The rapacious, cannibalistic nature of Kindred lends them a nightmarish quality in fiction, but the Alucinor reside within those horrid dreams. This is not to say that they are nothing more than figments of imagination. Rather, the Alucinor have a powerful sensitivity to dreams and nightmares. While the potent psyche of the Beast allows some Kindred to invade the minds of mortals, the mind of a “Sandman” roams the dreams of other beings, collecting imagery and sometimes encroaching on mortal slumber with a restless, crawling sense of horror.

While evidence points to the foundation of the Alucinor sometime around A.D. 450, the bloodline has always remained small in numbers. For the most part, Sandmen have remained behind the scenes, using their curious oneiromancy to advise Princes or embarrass enemies. The most prominent, recent and known Alucinor appearance focused on one Ariadne Metaxas, a Greek Cypriot Mekhet, who created a stir in 1931 when she evidenced the unusual capabilities of the line. She was alleged to have sent dream-images to several of Paris’ established Kindred before she arrived at her first salon in the city, conveying a recognizable image of herself before they’d ever met. Ultimately, Metaxas proved to be little more than a social butterfly who’d attuned herself to the Blood after a series of haunting dreams. By 1935, she succumbed to increasingly traumatic nightmares. After becoming little more than a shattered husk of her former self, obsessed with the then-nascent writings of Carl Jung, she disappeared from the social scene. Sightings of Alucinor have remained uncommon since. Perhaps a dozen have made their way through American cities in the last decade.

Alucinor generally fall into one of two social categories: those whose obsession with dreams leads them into inward-focused detachment, and those who retain a keen insight into others’ psyches. The former rarely interact with other vampires, shunning contact because the fever-dreams of torporous Kindred often convey powerful, terrifying imagery. The latter tend to be hangers-on at courts, using their peculiar insights to play on the hidden fears and desires of the undead. More than one Alucinor has parlayed her visions into a useful advisory position, educating a Prince or elder about his enemies in exchange for protection and favors.

Even more so than most Mekhet, the Alucinor have a bent for prophecy. Their ability to interpret stolen dreams gives members of the line an edge in fathoming the hidden motives of mortals and Kindred. Overexposure to others’ dreams can cause problems, though. Alucinor suffer from occasional intrusions of dreams into their waking moments. Their own nightmares can also warp due to the influence of strong emotions from other sleepers, causing them to experience false memories. Much like Kindred who spend too much time in torpor, Alucinor can be uncertain of what memories are fact and what are imagined. Sandmen who become highly attuned to dreams are often withdrawn and cryptic, given to conclusions based less on logic than on hallucinatory insight. Most fear torpor and the inevitable nightmares that it portends.

On one recent occasion, an exclamatory Alucinor demanded audience at a Kindred gathering in order to give dire predictions based on the hidden tensions of the city’s political elite. His warnings proved at least partially correct. He suffered Final Death within a week when a particularly torrid nightmare gripped him and sent him sleepwalking during the day.

Covenant: Those Alucinor who focus on dream symbolism tend to avoid the social trappings of Kindred society and remain nominally unbound. Nevertheless, the Kindred need for social acclaim (or the pressure of politics) sometimes drives a Sandman into sporadic contact with certain others. The Ordo Dracul has the most contact with the Alucinor. The Order goes out of its way to puzzle out occult symbols in Alucinor dreams, while Sandmen appreciate the society’s focus on exploring the mysteries of the vampiric condition. Members of the Ordo Dracul suspect that Alucinor attunement to dreams may reflect a higher level of consciousness, and could be a stepping stone in the process of relieving the undead condition.

Some Princes of Carthian or Invictus bent seek the Alucinor out for their insights into the Kindred psyche, a role that the unscrupulous Sandman may even relish. Line members who don’t eschew society often fall into one of these camps, because resultant political contacts are useful in night-to-night survival. The worldly focus of both covenants also helps to ground the Alucinor in affairs of the present.

At least one line member has taken his dreams as divine messages and sought out membership in the Lancea Sanctum. The Spear as a whole has not yet decided whether the Alucinor are touched by holy insight or haunted by demons. Nevertheless, a significant faction argues that Alucinor dreams may be a sign of divine inspiration, or possibly visions of Heaven and Hell, so they merit further investigation.

The Circle of the Crone sees Alucinor insight as a feminine aspect, but the bloodline itself is equally composed of males and females, and the Sandmen generally have no special interest in the philosophies of Acolytes in any case. Some Alucinor believe the Circle may have a means to control nightmares, and seek out that information, but Kindred occultism being as jealously guarded as it is, no remedies have been revealed.

Appearance: Although young line members tend to dress in a manner suited to the time of their Embrace, the toll of an existence half-dominated by fantasy and whimsy causes them to become eccentric over time. New Alucinor favor tasteful, relaxed clothes from the mortal world. Eventually, the pressures of nightmares cause these undead to develop a distracted air. They give up on following kine fashions, instead becoming stuck in the same styles they wore when they joined the bloodline. Some go so far as to eschew care for their appearance completely, becoming haggard and unkempt. Alucinor who delve deeply into Insomnium sometimes become so distanced from their physical states that they wear only tattered nightgowns, worn-out ensembles or threadbare antiques, perceiving the physical world as somehow less real than their own dreams. Sandmen who remain tied to Kindred politics favor the dark, forbidding attire more common to the Mekhet in general.

Haven: Young and old Alucinor alike prefer secure, secretive lairs where they can conduct their studies of psychology in seclusion. For Alucinor with a bent toward politics, this means a compound in the city, usually in an academic, upper-class location. A few Alucinor even take up residence as “permanent guests” with their patrons. Sandmen who eschew politics gravitate toward rural estates, where they can avoid dealing with other Kindred. Rustic Sandmen focus ever more deeply on peeling back layers of meaning from their odd visions. Alucinor are as likely as any other Kindred to have (or not have) various servants in their homes. Most line members avoid using traps or heavy security; a single hallucinatory episodemight be enough to kill oneself in one’s own haven.

Background: The Alucinor bloodline has no moratorium on membership; Mekhet become Sandmen by personal predilection rather than by some sort of initiation. Exact membership numbers are impossible to determine, as the Alucinor would never congregate as a whole. Rather, they tend to spring from Mekhet who have an attraction to symbolism. Those who give themselves over to fantasies, flights of fancy or twisted imaginings. Alucinor often quest for the cryptic meaning hidden in some form of art, whether by seeking the underpinnings of James Joyce’s writing, by searching for connections to reality in Salvador Dali’s paintings, or by whispering prayers to every Catholic saint over a reliquary saved from destruction during the Dark Ages. These perlustrations through abstraction can lead to insight or madness. A vampire, whatever his reason to attune to the bloodline, tends to become consumed with symbolism to the point of losing functionality. For most would-be Alucinor, this is simply a journey into understanding a greater aspect of their own nature and subconscious urges.

When an Alucinor creates a new Kindred (a rare event), the convert is as likely as not to go his own way. Choices of progeny can range from the lures that attract normal vampires — utility, sensuality, camaraderie — to esoteric choices based on a moment of symbolism. Childer are not coerced into joining the lineage, although those who go out of their way to direct their blood in a different direction generally drift away from their sires. Outsider Mekhet who force themselves into alignment with the lineage may garner some degree of scorn or respect, depending on their approach. Those who don’t appreciate the significance of dream interpretation are often rebuffed, on the rare occasion of a bloodline meeting.

Character Creation: Most Alucinor are startlingly insightful, although the practicality of their erudition is another matter. As questers seeking self-knowledge and understanding of symbols, line members usually have sharp, intuitive minds. Mental Attributes tend to be high, with Social Attributes well-rounded and Physical Attributes ranging from frail to average. Many Alucinor have a low Resolve, though, stemming from their inability to separate fact from fancy. The Alucinor also tend to rely on Mental and Social Skills, while Physical Skills atrophy to rudimentary levels. Alucinor who’ve been around for any length of time often invest a great deal of effort into supporting a proper Haven, so that they can remain closeted away in safety.

Organization: There’s no organization to the Alucinor beyond their shared connection to dreams. Of course, Sandmen in reasonably close proximity become aware of one another quickly; use of the most basic Insomnium powers can let them sense the mélange of dreams that afflict any of their own kind. The Alucinor are probably one of the few bloodlines with a motive to actively discourage interaction with others of their blood. These vampires dislike being reminded of their particular burden, and tend to be embittered when forced into the company of others who represent their own shortcomings. Even Alucinor sires and childer tend to become estranged after a short time.

Concepts: Dreamtime shaman, information broker, lunatic, political analyst, oracle, psychologist, sleep therapist, surrealist artist

History
In spite of the Alucinor low profile until 1931, their history reaches back much further. Unreliable but recurring nightmares in the lineage suggest that the line founder was female, and she diablerized a much older vampire some time during the era of the Roman Empire. The imprint of the elder’s personality permanently twisted the psyche of the then-fledgling, leaving her sensitive to others’ strong emotions and personalities whil she slept. A few Alucinor even speculate that the diablerized elder’s personality has fragmented and resides in every Alucinor, emerging during slumber to look for tiny pieces of dreams that remind it of its former self. Since the founder remains hidden away, the brood uses the name Alucinor from the Latin term for the world of dreams. No other proper name is known.

Legend aside, the Alucinor definitely predate the modern era. The effects of their Insomnium Discipline may contribute to medieval stories of succubi. (Indeed, the Lancea Sanctum is quick to caution that this possible influence reinforces the possibility of demonic influence in the bloodline.) During the Renaissance, when artists called upon Muses and dreams for inspiration, the Alucinor may have had a hand in some of the disturbing (and later surreal) art that came out of the period.

If there is a founder from ancient times, her actual identity remains shrouded. Ariadne Metaxas supposedly aligned herself to the lineage after several months of communion in dreams, chasing after a barely visible image of an androgynous figure. This figure, presumably the line’s progenitor, has never been met in person in the modern age — at least, as far as anyone knows. Alucinor who commit diablerie reportedly suffer intense nightmares in which a shrouded figure beckons to them, accusingly or hungrily. It is even remotely possible that the first Alucinor has herself become nothing more than a roaming nightmare, limited to communion with her line through rare glimpses into their sleeping psyches.

Alucinor history in Kindred society primarily concerns the few who sell their services for political gain. This practice gives the Alucinor something of a mercenary reputation. As far as anyone knows, there has never been an Alucinor Prince, but there have been multiple Alucinor advisors to the throne.

Society and Culture
The Alucinor lack a coherent organization of their own. They usually retain their mortal habits and dress for a time, those behaviors falling away until only bits and pieces are left and a line member cannot even remember why they were important. Each Alucinor’s outlook on society, mores and personal morality is therefore an unconscious amalgamation of her mortal experiences, her vampiric urges, and the jarring images that lurk in her dreams. The danger of running afoul of another Alucinor in dreams means that the Sandmen tend to give one another a wide berth.

THE DREAM DANCE
Thanks to hallucinations brought on by waking dreams, Alucinor sometimes experience “events” that aren’t real, or misremember events in twisted ways. Ultimately, the burden is upon the player to portray the unique flaw of the bloodline, but players who insist on refusing to do so should certainly suffer its effects by Storyteller decree — and chronically. Alucinor can, after all, be victimized while asleep by the Insomnium powers of other Sandmen, or caused to misremember crucial facts. Since the Storyteller is the only arbiter on what any given character sees and hears, she can selectively edit a character’s experiences. Maybe a line member can puzzle out what’s true or false with enough reasoning and careful records, but who’s to say that some cherished memory isn’t anything more than a fantasy? This weakness could be handled as something like the Amnesia Flaw (World of Darkness Rulebook, p. 218), but without any experience point rewards for portraying the trait.

The Anvari claim to be one of the oldest bloodlines walking tonight. According to their legends, their founder was Sepehr Anvari, an opium-dealer in the last years of the Persian Empire. Like their Daeva parents, the Anvari are very sensual in nature, but unlike the Succubi, they do not compensate for their lost passions by manipulating others. Rather, the Anvari have turned to the use of opium and other narcotics to try to recapture their dead emotions. Over the centuries, the Anvari have come to view narcotics not only as a way to ease the torments of unlife, but as a way to ascend to a higher state.

The bloodline also relies on the addictive effects of narcotics to tie others to its members. Building herds of pliant kine is not only acceptable to the Anvari, but necessary. The line is so intertwined with drugs that a “Pusher” has difficulty feeding from a vessel who isn’t coursing with opiates. Such drugs tend to quickly addict their users and ironically lead them to rely on the very beings that feed on them. It’s a double-edged sword, though. The Anvari themselves are incapable of enjoying the euphoria of narcotics except through the blood of drugged vessels, leaving them tied in turn to their herds.

Other Kindred tend to view the Anvari with distaste at best, and as a constant threat to exposure among mortals at worst. The rest of the Daeva view Pushers as substandard members of the clan who are incapable of seducing prey through beauty and talent alone. That Anvari are not above feeding on addicts in slums and alleyways only reinforces Succubus opinion. Other vampires tend to consider Anvari use of addictive drugs to coerce kine as little more than a poor Kindred’s Vinculum, and indicative of lazy or inept hunting. Some Kindred fear that the Anvari risk exposing undead society as a whole. After all, heroin addicts are always heroin addicts. Who knows what one might say to get a hit, or what a vice cop might uncover during a raid? So, to participate in the Danse Macabre as equals, most Anvari keep their heritage hidden from their undead peers.

Covenant: More Anvari are drawn to the Circle of the Crone than any other covenant. The myths of Sumeria and Persia both have a strong female presence, leading many of the bloodline — particularly its elders — to be comfortable with the Acolytes’ general philosophy. Furthermore, as some rituals of the old ways employ psychotropic substances, the Anvari are able to barter influence readily among the cultists. The Carthians are probably the most common choice for young Anvari, if for no other reason than members are slightly less hidebound in their viewpoints than more staid covenants. The Invictus enjoys its share of Pushers as well, whether they are established elders with a secure power base or up-and-coming dealers building fortunes in the drug trade. The Ordo Dracul may interest the occasional Anvari who seeks to escape the Curse or addiction through covenant strictures, but by and large its rites and practices require more self-discipline than most Pushers are willing to devote. It is the rare Anvari indeed who heeds the call of the Lancea Sanctum, as the very nature of the bloodline’s relationship with narcotics is offensive to many orthodox followers of that group.

Appearance: While the lineage is originally of Middle Eastern descent, one can now find examples of nearly every ethnicity and race among its members, thanks largely to the global reach of narcotics. The Anvari aren’t as bound by physical appearance as are members of their parent clan. Nonetheless, few (if any) of the bloodline could be described as unattractive. The Anvari are also as in touch with the most recent trends and fashions as the Daeva, but are more likely to dress according to their surroundings, whether it’s an upscale social gathering or an inner-city crack house.

Haven: Anvari refuges are generally comfortable in their furnishings and insulated from the rest of the world in some manner, whether by location, construction or design. Most are also well-appointed, thanks in no small part to the fact that the majority of Pushers see sizeable profits from the drug trade. Many Anvari havens are well protected by security measures, ranging from hired guards to closed-circuit cameras to advanced intrusion-detection devices. As a result of drug seizure laws in the U.S., most Anvari there are careful to keep their havens far removed from any serious drug trafficking.

Background: The Anvari Embrace from all levels of society, but tend to favor those of upper-middle-class or higher financial status. Part of this predilection is due to the lingering influences of theDaeva, but it’s largely because the Anvari actually seldom have direct contact with poor segments of society. (Their agents and “employees” do the selling.) Among the Anvari who actually deal, many build sizeable herds among the lower social strata, where drug use provides an escape from the drudgery of existence. These street dealers are usually looked down upon by their “high-class” brethren.

Contrary to what one may assume given the bloodline’s close association with drugs, the Anvari rarely (if ever) Embrace an addict or even a frequent user. Experience has shown that addicts are ill suited to the bloodline’s weaknesses, quickly succumbing completely to the lure of opiates. Few Anvari suffer the Vice of Gluttony. A Kindred addict is a tremendous liability, risking not only business ventures, but also exposure to mortals. Pushers therefore tend to seek individuals with exposure to narcotics who’ve proven resistant to the lure.

Character Creation: Pushers call upon all aspects of their identity to perpetuate their existence and trade. Social Attributes and Skills are most useful for influencing the spread of opiate use, and can be used for such base activities as dealing drugs directly. Mental traits are only slightly less important in observing modern mortal society and perceiving ways to ensnare more and more users, and to then prey upon them. Wits is particularly useful for reacting to situations quickly, whether it’s recognizing that a city councilman could be lured into obedience through addiction, or to anticipate police presence before it makes itself known. Physical Attributes and Skills are pursued last but still important for self-defense and holding one’s own amongst competitors or drug-crazed vessels.

The Haven Merit is invaluable, specifically in terms of Security but also for Location in terms of access to drug users without immersion in them. Contacts, Allies and Retainer Merits are equally useful to Anvari as they are to mortal purveyors of illicit substances, be it to have favors done, to anticipate challengers or to win protection.

Whether a Daeva revels in her Anvari blood soon after the Embrace or well into her Requiem means little to the lineage. What she brings to the collective table is most important to fellow Pushers.

Organization: The closest the Anvari come to any formal organization is when two or more work together in a drug distribution scheme. Such deals are handled largely as in any criminal enterprise, although an elder member of the bloodline is granted respect regardless of his position in the arrangement. Otherwise, relationships among Anvari are largely limited to vampires with blood ties to each other. The very nature of their activity makes line members a paranoid lot on many levels, and most fear that any concentration of their number just begs to be exposed (if not as Kindred, then as drug dealers). Still, among elders — and a few young, traditional members — a simple ceremony of greeting is practiced when one member enters another’s domain. The host presents the guest with a single poppy, which the two then ritually cut into 12 separate pieces.

The strongest Anvari presence is currently in the United States. While the U.S. has only four percent of the world’s population, it consumes over 60 percent of its illegal drugs. Western Europe, particularly the Netherlands and Italy, are also home to several Anvari. There are more than a few members in the Golden Triangle region of Southeast Asia. Few remain in Middle East countries, as the current climate there isn’t as favorable to their pursuits as in ages past. There are also reports of isolated members in Mexico, Colombia, Pakistan and Afghanistan.

Concepts: Drug dealer, pharmacist, pimp, cartel kingpin, corrupt vice cop, substance-abuse councilor, musician, porn producer, burned-out veteran, research chemist

History
According to Anvari histories, the bloodline was founded sometime in the 4th or 5th century A.D. by an opium merchant named Sepehr Anvari in Ctesiphon, now a suburb of Baghdad. Anvari’s sire was an unnamed Daeva whose attraction to the man was apparently due in no small part to the fact that the vampire had become addicted to opium through feeding on drug-tainted vessels. Anvari’s Embrace may well have been an effort to establish control over the relationship between the two. Regardless, legend has it that the Daeva collapsed under her addiction and came to Final Death by falling into a drug-induced daze on a Babylonian rooftop before sunrise.

Anvari himself also indulged heavily in opium. He found it provided some relief from the loneliness of unlife. His customers also provided him with a readily available herd from which to feed. Anvari soon discovered he had no need to hunt or even use charm to seduce victims. More vessels than he could desire came to his lair every night to partake of his drug. By feeding from them while they languished, he introduced the drug into his system virtually every night.

It’s unclear even to elders of the bloodline if Anvari Embraced any childer prior to founding the lineage. It is believed by most that he became gluttonous in the years between his Embrace and the foundation, slipping into torpor numerous times. Even the duration of this period is a subject of debate, as no elder active in the western world claims to have been Embraced prior to the 16th century, although many assert they’ve met Anvari from the East who are far older.

The truth of the bloodline’s origins will likely remain a mystery as Anvari himself has not been heard from in nearly 500 years. What’s known is that his constant exposure to opium changed his Vitae in some fashion. He fed so frequently from vessels under the effects of narcotics that his addiction achieved supernatural magnitude. He ceased to be able to effectively draw nourishment from blood that lacked opiates. He could still feed, but it required much larger quantities of blood to sustain him.

In addition to an actual physical preference for opiate-laden blood, he was able to use his affinity for the substance to grant him a unique ability to induce narcotic effects in others — both mortal and Kindred. At that point, Anvari diverged from the Daeva. By the 14th century, opium use reached Europe and suitable vessels were plentiful. Anvari had Embraced more than a few childer, who had followed the opium trade west, hoping to find a climate more hospitable to them than that of their now primarily Muslim-controlled homeland.

Their parent clan soon came to regard the line with disdain and not a little fear. More than one vampire fell victim to the same trap that had caught Sepehr Anvari’s sire. The Anvari might not control the flow of opium, but they did hold sway over more than a few influential mortals who did — and they were willing to exploit any Kindred who fell under the drug’s power. Naturally, elders didn’t cherish the thought of some Anvari upstart achieving leverage over them.

The Inquisition
The coming of the Inquisition nearly dealt Final Death to the bloodline in Europe. Not only did Kindred themselves have to fear the Church’s Inquisitors, but opium itself became taboo. To the eyes of Inquisitors, anything from the East was tainted by the Devil’s hand. Thus, once-plentiful herds of opium users dwindled to a scattering of wary addicts.

It didn’t take long for more paranoid members of the Ventrue and Daeva clans to decide that the Anvari needed to be brought firmly under control. It was for the good of all. Indeed, the bloodline’s weakness provided a powerful tool to do just that. There was no need to risk exposing the Kindred as a whole. Culling the Anvari’s herd of vessels would serve just as well. A few years — and quiet accusations to Inquisitors by Ventrue and Daeva servants — later and the Anvari found themselves largely bereft of suitable victims in Europe. The clans then moved secretly against any of the bloodline that still persisted. In the end, the line effectively ceased to exist on the Continent. Only a handful in the Middle East and a rare, isolated member or two in the Far East remained.

Rebuilding
During the height of the Enlightenment, opium was reintroduced into Europe through a number of means. The medical community began widespread use of it as a painkiller. Laudanum, a mixture of opium and alcohol, became a popular remedy for a variety of complaints. Finally, the New World introduced Europeans and later easterners to the pipe, a Native American invention that made smoking opium — a practice discovered by Portuguese sailors — far easier.

At the same time, recreational use of opium became popular in Persia and India. The Dutch exported the drug — along with the pipe in which to smoke it — to China. British shipping spread the drug from India across southeast Asia. While conspiracy minded Kindred sometimes lay this explosion at the feet of the Anvari as a power grab, the truth is the bloodline had nothing to do with it. Certainly, they benefited from it, but at the time it’s unlikely they numbered more than a dozen or so due to the lingering effects of the Inquisition and the rapid spread of Islam. The truth is that mortals longed for euphoria as strongly as any Kindred, and opium could supply it on demand.

Regardless of the reason, the Anvari profited substantially from the expansion of the opium trade. Yet survivors of the Inquisition remembered all too well the dangers of their fellow Kindred. While they remained tied closely to the drug trade, they were careful to keep their involvement at arm’s length to defend against any return to harsh times. When they interacted with other vampires they presented themselves as Daeva. Only rarely did they coerce other Kindred through addiction. As the bloodline extended tendrils this time, members were careful to remain behind the scenes.

Over the centuries, opium use waxed and waned, but always remained a part of mortal culture. Indeed, kine proved innovative in finding new ways to use the poppy flower. Laudanum gave way to morphine and morphine to heroin — each more addictive than the last. Society was woefully slow to recognize the dangers of narcotic addiction. Heroin was marketed by Bayer as a cough medicine as late as the end of the 19th century, and opium dens were so prevalent at the same time that San Francisco alone had over 300.

By the time mortal governments realized the dangers posed by narcotics, the demand was too widespread to stop. Laws and active enforcement served only to drive up prices and increase the power of the criminal element. In the end, the attempt to stem the tide of opium created a thriving black market that in turn financed powerful drug cartels.

This period also marked the greatest growth in the bloodline’s numbers, with the Anvari swelling to over a hundred throughout the world.

OBSESSION
Although the word “narcotic” is often used tonight to mean any illegal drug, it actually refers specifically to opiates and opioids. When used in reference to the Anvari, it always means opiates and opioids.

Tonight
In spite of increased legal powers and more sophisticated technology to combat illegal drugs, the percentage of the population addicted to narcotics in the western world is nearly identical to what it was over a century ago. To the Anvari, who’ve resisted the temptation to swell the bloodline in response, suitable vessels are more plentiful than ever. While Pushers as individuals seldom seek to rise in the ranks of a drug cartel, fringe involvement in the narcotics trade has benefited them enormously.

Nonetheless, they have not forgotten the lesson learned during the Inquisition. Though they must take care to not draw mortal attention, perhaps their most dangerous foes remain other Kindred who fear their pervasive influence.

Society and Culture
The fulcrum on which all Anvari actions rest is opium. They need it to feed satisfactorily, they use it to bind their herds to them, and most use it to provide for at least some of their financial strength. It’s possible for an Anvari to exist without narcotics, but why?

For most members of the line, opiates are more than merely drugs. They represent a way to recapture a portion of what was lost through the Embrace. Throughout much of mortal history, opium has held an almost religious awe for mortal society. Every culture introduced to it has proven willing to use all of the drug available. The Anvari believe that this craving is due to more than simple chemical craving. Most view partaking of opium as an almost sacred ritual, made all the more poignant by the fact they can no longer enjoy its effects directly. Even the most jaded and cynical Pushers regard it as more than just a drug.

Bloodline elders teach that Sepehr Anvari eventually achieved a state of sublime bliss through his communion with opium, becoming something more than Kindred or mortal. Some lineage members of both the Ordo Dracul and the Circle of the Crone believe their founder may have discovered a “backdoor” to Golconda. No proof is offered of either claim, but the Anvari maintain that they know at least the first step down the path to true enlightenment.

Doing Business
Narcotics tonight are plentiful. Heroin has overtaken cocaine in many areas as drug of choice. Oxycontin and other synthetic narcotics flood the market from legal sources, from family doctors to dentists to internet pharmacies. In many ways, it is now easier to get narcotics on the street than alcohol.

Despite a variety of options, the drug of choice for both Anvari and their kine is heroin. The supply is plentiful, it’s often mixed with other street drugs, and it can (contrary to movies and TV) be taken through a variety of means, not just by needle. New heroin users tend to shy away from injections for a variety of reasons, such as fear of contracting AIDS or hepatitis, a desire to avoid telltale track marks, or the fact that they simply don’t like needles. The purity of the drug from many suppliers has risen to the point that users can simply snort it. As a result, it appeals to a more affluent clientele, especially since upwardly mobile professionals have discovered that after the initial euphoric sensation they can function in the workplace and home without the telltale signs of other drugs.

The Anvari don’t have to work too hard to find addicts. Nearly one out of every 200 U.S. citizens is addicted to opiates in one form or another. Since few show signs identifying themselves as illegal drug users, the trick is finding them — and even that isn’t too hard. There are numerous mundane methods: criminal contacts, frequenting clubs or areas known for drug crime, prostitutes and even the internet. One of the first abilities Anvari develop is a sense for opiates, even in another’s blood, allowing them to locate suitable prey quickly.

While finding existing addicts is far from an insurmountable challenge, many of the bloodline prefer to “grow” their own herds from non-addicts. These vampires claim that turning a non-user into a user gives them a greater hold over the victim. Someone who’s avoided hard drugs is likely to hide his new problem from family and friends. This secrecy creates a deep psychological bond in the vessel, particularly when the vampire occasionally and subtly reinforces any feelings of guilt in the subject’s mind.

Mortal dealers employ a wide range of tactics for drawing in new blood. The Anvari know all of those tricks and then some. The highly addictive nature of narcotics makes their work easy. Peer pressure or free samples are often enough to get someone started, particularly a young teenager, down that slippery slope. Spiking other less dangerous drugs to build addictive chemistry is another method. A more aggressive approach is to get victims to take a single dose and then, while they’re reasoning is clouded, keep refreshing the dose over a period of nights until, by the time the dealer allows the effect to wear off, users are addicted. The innate Anvari ability to manipulate blood chemistry also gives line members a powerful tool for establishing a pool of vessels.

Dealing
It’s almost unheard of for an Anvari to rise very high in a drug cartel. Drug lords draw too much attention to themselves and their organizations. Colombian cartels are frequently the target of Colombian, British and U.S. military action. The entire opium industry in Afghanistan has been attacked by the former Soviet Union, the Pakistanis, the Taliban and most recently the U.S. Southeast Asian cartels contend with government troops, guerillas and bandits all at the same time. None of this attention stops the industry, but only a reckless Kindred would thrust himself into the middle of that intensity.

TALKING THE TALK
Very few people associated with drugs on a regular basis refer to them by their formal or chemical names. The street names for drugs change faster than virtually any other slang, often in an attempt to stay one verbal step ahead of the authorities. Using the wrong name for a drug is a dead-giveaway that one is either a poser or a narc.
Amphetamine: Amies, bennies, black beauties, bumblebees, speed
Cocaine (powder): Blow, booger, candy, coke, dust, flake, girl, snow
Crack or free-base cocaine: Apple jacks, bad, ball, bazooka, bones, breakfast of champions, bullion, caviar, pasta
Hashish and opium: Black hash, black Russian, soles
Heroin: AIP (from Afghanistan, Iran and Pakistan), antifreeze, brown sugar, China White, garbage, junk, Persian, smack
Heroin (Mexican tar): Black pearl, chocolate, Mexican mud, tootsie roll
Heroin and cocaine: Belushi, speedball
Heroin and free-base cocaine: Chasing and basing
Heroin and PCP: Alien sex fiend
LSD: Acid, Alice, Bart Simpsons, battery acid, blue heavens, Chinese dragons, windowpane
Marijuana: Acupulco Gold, African bush, airplane, baby, Barbara Jean, blanket, blunt, chronic, ganja, grass, herb, joint, pot, weed, 420
Marijuana and heroin: Atom bomb
Methamphetamine: Crank, crystal, meth, yaba
Meth and crack: Ice
Opium: Auntie, black, hop, laudanum, op, Paragoric, poppy
PCP: Angel, animal tranquilizer, blue star, Cadillac, cyclones, dust, fresh, hog, jet fuel, peace, shermies, surfer, tranks, zombie dust

At the other end of the scale, few Anvari stoop to directly dealing drugs on the street. It’s not from any ethical code, but rather a survival instinct. So many law-enforcement agencies line their pockets with drug and property seizures that dealing is a high-risk venture. Cops look for chances to grab a nice car, boat or house. Most U.S. states allow an agency to keep half the profits of any sale of seized material. With that sort of reinforcement, it’s no surprise that most departments keep a careful eye on traffic. Not that it works that well to stem the sale of drugs, but it is a lottery ticket few Kindred want to play.

Those who do deal directly do so on a small scale, say at an exclusive party or members-only club. Not only does this limit their exposure to law enforcement, it helps keep their herds manageable. A small clientele base allows an Anvari to keep track of who’s a habitual user and who uses only on occasion. “Social” users are usually cut off soon after the vampire identifies them. They’re unreliable as vessels and also less reliant on the Anvari as a supplier.

While the bloodline needs narcotic-laced blood to survive, those Anvari who deal often diversify their offerings. They may find that a new buyer hesitates to shoot up, but is willing to sample ecstasy. Or maybe just a dime bag of marijuana to start off. As time goes by, with a little sales talk and misplaced trust, the Pusher creates a heroine addict and vessel.

Anvari dealers frequently keep costs to their herds below street value. Doing so makes it more likely that a vessel keeps coming to the vampire for her supply. The Anvari also hopes that by keeping the product cheap, the user buys — and uses — more. And a low cost makes it less likely that an addict has to resort to crime to fund her habit. This last reason doesn’t arise out of any concern for society’s laws or even the wellbeing of the addict, but from the fact that if the user gets busted, there’s a good chance she might turn her supplier in to cut a deal with the cops. Ultimately, even at a reduced cost, the profit on narcotics is considerable.

Most line members deal through third parties. The Anvari may provide a location suitable for transactions, such as a club or hotel, but otherwise keeps his hands clean of any connection. That approach keeps suitable kine handy without the risky legal entanglements. The drawback is that the vampire doesn’t have as much direct control over addicts, but for many the safety factor outweighs the convenience.

Others remain as removed as possible from the narcotics trade. They keep only a small supply on hand and distribute it to only a few close and trusted vessels. Although U.S. drug laws don’t differentiate on the amount of heroin or other narcotic in one’s possession, most law-enforcement agencies are so focused on numbers and statistics that a low-key operator can usually fly under the radar.

Feeding
One of the biggest dangers to Anvari Kindred is that they develop a personal addiction to narcotics. It’s inevitable given their need to frequently consume narcotic blood. While some show no trepidation for this fate and a few actively seek it, some take steps to avoid it. After all, they’re well aware of the power opium offers over their vessels. Few are willing to allow another to have that hold over them.

When feeding from a vessel under the influence of a narcotic, an Anvari suffers the full effects of the drug, just as if she had taken it herself (see “Drugs,” p. 176 of the World of Darkness Rulebook).

A common practice among the Anvari is to feed from a clean vessel every two to three nights. Since a Pusher has to take more blood than normal means she usually has to have more than one clean vessel from which to feed, or she needs to allow one time to recover before returning to him. Some solve the problem by maintaining a few non-user members in a herd, while others simply take to the streets and hunt like most Kindred.

Another way in which Anvari avoid addiction is to feed heavily one night and then fast for a night or two. The drawback is that a vampire may find her Vitae reserves short on one of the fasting nights should she have to fuel Disciplines or perform other supernatural feats. Regardless of how a vampire chooses to deal with addiction, an Anvari walks a fine line. The source of the bloodline’s unique power constantly threatens to cut members as deeply as it does their vessels. Many Anvari are consumed with loathing for brethren who succumb to deep addiction, perceiving them as weak or traitorous to their “higher calling.” It’s not unheard of for Anvari to occasionally embark on unsanctioned hunts to eliminate a badly addicted member of their kind.

WITHDRAWAL
Any character addicted to narcotics who avoids taking a drug for more than one or two nights suffers withdrawal. The character experiences nausea and vomiting (of blood), cramping, tremors and anxiety. All dice pools and Resistance traits such as Defense suffer a –2 penalty. Furthermore, a Willpower point must be spent each night that the vampire wishes to take any actions other than stay in her haven, fighting symptoms. Assuming the character continues to avoid taking the drug, withdrawal effects last for seven nights and then subside. Psychological addiction to drugs may last years, however.

Since the first temples were built, mankind has been fascinated with the meaning of buildings and the power of architecture. Standing stones erected to face the sun at the equinox, and palaces built to impress and cow the populace were combined with cosmology and sacred geometry to create complex and powerful forms and ideals for the glory of God, king and self. Nearly every culture has used these principles to one degree or another, shaping its world while shaping itself. The vampiric Architects of the Monolith emerged from this impulse as it coiled into the fevered torpor-dreams of the bloodline’s megalomaniac founder. From this brew of madness and art, the “Masons” have conjured a form of undead sorcery that gives them power over cities, inspiring them to consider themselves the ultimate masters of the gilded cage.

It is such vainglory that drives the vampires of the line to form a grand conspiracy that they claim spans continents and centuries, a sweeping plot for dominion that will supposedly bring the world under their sway. The same vanity has incurred the wrath of the Lancea Sanctum and other undead to the point that the Architects have nearly been scourged from existence. Remaining Masons linger not with humility, but with an understanding that they must keep their true plans and powers concealed, lest the jealousies of “lessers” be their undoing.

In the modern nights, those few Damned who know of the Architects of the Monolith think of them as an eccentric brood of Ventrue. Those who have had any direct contact may know that the line clings to antiquated notions of architecture, following Napoleonic ideals of city planning and ritual to keep the kine pacified. An even smaller number know that the brood is actually a bloodline, begun in Paris in the late 18th century, closely linked to the Ordo Dracul and known for producing brilliant Guardians and Kogaion. Those who have had direct experience with the Architects speak of darker things, of madness and destruction, and the sensation of being looked upon as a god would a flea.

Although all of these rumors have an element of truth, the last are most accurate. Every member of the bloodline believes she can literally control the world by channeling mystical energy through the focus of looming architecture.

The line’s founder even believes her lineage can make cities the focus of reality, turning both God and nature into mere trivialities banished to the shadow of her monolith. Bound by this mad and impossible vision, the bloodline works secretly and circumspectly. The result is a cult motivated by madness, backed by visions of conquest, and powered by esoteric sorcery. Though members’ insane visions of dominance are only so much torpor-delusion, the harm they can cause is very real. After all, individuals sacrificed for their plans aren’t any less dead, and communities wracked by their “progress” aren’t any less ruined.

Covenant: Most of the few extant Architects are affiliated with the Ordo Dracul. It was from the Order that they arose as a conspiracy and bloodline, and their ties with the covenant remain. It is even said that the line founder is a leading member of the Sworn of the Mysteries. While the Dracul see the Architects as too concerned with power and not attentive enough to personal transcendence, Masons still occupy a privileged position in the society. An unusually high proportion of Architects act as Kogaion. The fact that the Order expects and even encourages its members to conduct private investigations and occult experiments makes it a perfect home for the Architects. This hardly means that all Dragons are comfortable with the Architects, as the Order suspects the depths of the line’s madness, but the covenant is generally willing to give the Masons a chance to overcome their limitations — within reason.

Other Architects tend to be members of the Invictus. Though they often lack the formal occult teaching of Order members, Invictus Masons are still valuable to the bloodline for the political clout and connections they wield. Since conspiracies of power are the bread and butter of the First Estate, insightful Invictus Princes enjoy having Masons under their thumb in the urban night. A smart First Estate Prince or Priscus can even ply an Architect without causing himself too much harm, so long as he’s careful to play upon the line member’s madness to keep her under control.

Very few Architects become Princes themselves; it’s too public a position. They tend to do well in a Primogen capacity and often take Regencies over domains of construction, city hall or other areas that allow them to affect urban development. The rank and file of the Invictus are leery of Masons, uncertain of their occult dealings and put off by their overt madness.

There are very few Architects in any of the other covenants. The Carthian mindset doesn’t sit well with the ideals of control and mystery that dominate the bloodline. The unaligned often lack the power and connections valued by the Architects. The Circle of the Crone has no Architect members, as the phallus-centric paradigm of the Masons puts them fundamentally at odds with the Crones. And yet, the Architects would very much like to seduce knowledge of Crúac away from Acolytes in order to forward their own interests.

Longstanding members of the Lancea Sanctum have a special place for the Masons in their unbeating hearts. Not just because the Architects were founded by an apostate Cardinal and carry their founder’s blood-taint, but because the bloodline was once foolish enough to pit its sorcery against the Sanctified. The Masons are nearly as loving toward the Spear, as survivors remember (or have been beaten down with stories of) the nights when the Sanctified fell upon the lineage. While Masons are smart enough to avoid open hostility with the covenant, they would dearly love to strike back for their past humiliation. Of course, should the Sanctified find out that the Architects are still fully engaged in their blasphemous plans to take God’s power as their own, history could repeat itself.

Appearance: Members of the bloodline are every inch Ventrue, though they tend to be modern rather than conservative in their personage and apparel. Most old members are of European derivation, with a preponderance of French members with that famous Gaelic nose. In the modern nights, there are increasing numbers of Hispanic and Japanese members, as well as Americans of mixed background. All Masons dress well, generally in business attire, sometimes with a French flair designed to remind them of their glory days in Paris. A very few elders yearn for the days of Worth gowns, swashbuckling cuffs and hussar boots, and take formal parties as an opportunity to revel in their golden age, but few are so out of touch to think such apparel suited for nightly wear.

Haven: As the would-be masters of urban civilization, nothing but the best can serve as a haven for one of the Masons. Sixtieth-story penthouse condos with secret rooms, safety vaults and full security are possible, designed to be impregnable while maintaining the image of powerful nonchalance. Sprawling villas or small mansions with perfect French gardens in the high style of Le Notre are popular, though Masons in young and populous cities have had to give them up to maintain the Masquerade. Other than quality and elegance, the common feature of all Architect havens is that they are in someway imposing, impressive or mystically significant. Be this a fine historical pedigree or an avant-garde sense of space, something about a haven makes it “mystically powerful” in a twisted interpretation of sacred construction. Many Architects keep truly eye-catching elements confined to the interior of a haven, so as to avoid notice, while others ensure their havens disappear into the cityscape, despite their haute couture.

Background: Being Ventrue, the Architects take only childer who seem the best to their skewed perceptions. The main traits considered desirable are a craving for personal power and control; extensive knowledge of architecture, urban studies, city planning or the occult; and the ability to exist independently and quietly. This combination of requirements leads to many members being from mixed corporate and academic backgrounds, with a preference for those who are both well-educated and successful in businesses, such as in real estate and urban development. Above and beyond all else, each prospective Architect must prove her ability to keep a secret. The Masons have a natural flair for secrecy and dissembling to rival that of the Mekhet.

Other Ventrue who meet Architect standards can be adopted into the line. An Architect most likely approaches a prospective member, and then only after the candidate has been circumspectly but thoroughly tested on his initial sanity, ability to keep secrets and compatibility with the bloodline’s goals. These tests are generally hidden in the nightly politics of the Requiem, with false alliances and information being given and fake agents sent to trick, bribe or coerce information from the potential recruit. He is deemed of merit only if he can impress his assailant-adopters. Once a subject has been found worthy, the Architects approach obliquely, carefully sounding him out and making him take fearsome oaths before bringing him into their august ranks.

Character Creation: Chosen and groomed for mental acumen backed by social strength and secrecy, Architects tend toward high Mental and Social traits. Members have above average Resolve, Intelligence and Composure. It’s a rare Mason who doesn’t have a deep interest in and knowledge of the mysteries of sacred and mystical architecture, leading to a high level in Occult. Just after the mystical comes immersion in the theory of Academics, the practice of Crafts and the knowledge of Science as each relates to architecture, construction, gardening, demolitions and urban planning. Politics and Socialize are considered practical tools needed to impose one’s vision on the world, without being a primary focus. The splendid mansions, penthouses and castles of the Architects require a high level of Haven. Connections with urban-development offices, city government, architectural firms and construction companies require dots in Allies, Contacts, Resources and Status (among mortals). Despite social connections and Ventrue blood, few line members have Status in vampiric circles, due to their low profile and the madness that makes others shun them. Any character who immediately starts down the path of an Architect rather than as a mere land-speculating Ventrue needs a second dot of Blood Potency.

Organization: The Architects of the Monolith is a group of madmen and women overseen by a demoniac. From her palatial Parisian haven, Ermenjart la Charpentière rules her childer with power, fear, oaths and blood bonds. The elder has been active and alert, avoiding torpor for the existence of the bloodline, and her grasp on it is sure. In order to maintain control of her brood and to allow her to pursue her insane goals, she has turned the bloodline into something between a cult and a corporation, parsing out control and authority through a series of grandiosely titled subalterns.

Ermenjart herself is recognized as “The Carpenter” (“la Charpentière”) and does everything in her power to turn herself into a messianic figure for her childer. She promises them a new world based on their creations, a vampiric Zion in which all power will flow through urban channels to feed the Architects. Due to the weakness of the bloodline, almost every member accepts this goal wholeheartedly.

Under the Carpenter is the Main de Gloire, the trio of her eldest childer who govern the line when Ermenjart is too busy “bringing about the new salvation of steel, concrete and blood.” Decorated with titles and ranks, this triumvirate should have great authority, but the truth is the Main de Gloire is too divided by its own vision and madness to be effective in coordinating any united action of the line. The three are, however, extremely effective at punishing any Mason who betrays them or Ermenjart.

Beneath the Main de Gloire, the organization breaks down by location. Most cities are still beyond the reach of the bloodline’s limited numbers; many major cities are home to only a single Architect. Such a solo operative is known as a Lion de Zion. Lions work directly for the Main de Gloire, receiving bizarre and often contradictory orders that are supposed to further the great work. These representative tend to get very good at interpreting the Main de Gloire’s orders to fit their own particular madness, and spend much of their time furthering personal goals.

About a dozen of the most important cities in the world — New York, London and Moscow among them — have a cabal of Architects known as a Section d’Or. Each group is lead by a Clef de Voûte, who answers to the Main de Gloire and who ostensibly works with other cities’ Clefs de Voûte. A Clef de Voûte leads other Architects in a city, coordinating their individual projects toward the greater plan. Each member of the Section d’Or is theoretically responsible for her own domain, but in some cities the Clef de Voûte micromanages every aspect of Architects’ operations. Of course, groups and individuals have also become very good at interpreting mad orders from above to fit their individual delusions.

The Architects are most powerful in Europe and on the American East Coast. European Masons still rebuild from the carnage that the world wars inflicted, which has allowed American members in Chicago and New York to catch up. In the last 30 years, a few radical Lions have managed to gain the approval of the Main de Gloire with daring work in developing nations in South American and southeast Asia, taking credit for achievements such as the Petronas Towers in Kuala Lumpur (which they in fact had very little to do with). The bloodline also has aspirations of expanding into Japan, where megacity and neocity research and development promises massive rewards.

Concepts: Ruthless real-estate mogul, urban studies or geology professor, demolition expert, creepy architect, necropolis designer, urban-renewal politician, science-fiction writer/futurist (specializing in super-cities and arcologies), public-works engineer, master of traffic and transit, feng-shui mystic, ley-line tracker, urban spiritualist, landscaper/gardener, Napoleonic throwback

History
In the late 17th century, Ermenjart la Charpentière was a heretic against the Lancea Sanctum. She was newly risen from torpor and tormented with half-understood memories of building Louis IX’s Parisian Sainte-Chapelle, and working with great mystics in Prague. Her quest for comprehension brought her to the Ordo Dracul and they taught her about ley lines and mystical correspondence. Synchronicity brought her in contact, however briefly, with André Le Norte, architect and gardener for Louis XIV, and from that meeting Ermenjart gained vision.

Her newly inspired dream was of necropoli that would channel and control energy, using it to provide sustenance for the vampiric condition. For nearly a century she influenced and was influenced by mortal necrographers, resulting in mystical influence over the Pêre Lachaise cemetery in Paris. Upon the opening of the cemetery in 1804, Ermenjart realized that not only did construction of the place affect interior ley lines, it warped the flow in the surrounding city, changing the behavior of kine in surrounding neighborhoods.

This realization brought Ermenjart to her full vision: the manipulation of ley lines through sacred architecture to control cities, turning them into the center of reality. It was a megalomaniacal dream of nightmarish proportions, and Ermenjart knew she could neither accomplish it alone nor trust outsiders with the plan. (It’s also possible that some deep-seated part of her knew her vision was impossible, and she would not share it for fear of being confronted with the truth.) So it was that a bloodline emerged from la Charpentière’s efforts to see her plan to fruition, yet to keep it secret among trusted childer.

The early Architects used their Ventrue ties to gain influence and standing with the builders, planners, contractors and mystics of Paris. When Georges Haussmann began his renovation of Paris under Napoleon III, the bloodline was behind the scenes, learning and manipulating. Members were convinced that they had mastered the ley lines of Paris when they unlocked the secret sorcery of the Gilded Cage. That marked the golden age of the line, when the most members were Embraced and inducted, a time that elders now remember with nostalgia bordering on idolatry. To this day, the Paris of the Napoleons is upheld as an example of what the Architects can do, and of the world the Carpenter would create. Glittering, decadent, beautiful and utterly corrupt.

The golden age came to a crashing end when Ermenjart and the Main de Gloire overreached themselves and used sorcery to destroy a handful of Lancea Sanctum Bishops whom they felt opposed their plans. This outrage led to a backlash that shattered the Architects in London and Vienna, and left even the Paris faction decimated. The Carpenter learned her lesson and slunk into the shadows, letting the Sanctified think they had put and end to her machinations.

After years in hiding, the Masons spread slowly and quietly through many of Europe and America’s greatest cities. The dangers of travel and the still-angry Sanctified claimed several of the less cautious, but Section d’Or were soon established once more in London, New York, Chicago and Vienna. Meanwhile, young Lions established themselves in any city where they felt they could make a mark. With every new Gilded Cage ritual discovered, the bloodline was convinced it moved that much closer to world domination, and so continued plotting. The brood weathered the world wars and “great enemies” such as Daniel Burnham (who probably never knew the Architects existed), and moved into the age of skyscrapers and urban development with a grace that few other Ventrue could match.

As of the 21st century, the Main de Gloire estimates that the “great work” still has 450 years left until its completion, putting it slightly ahead of its original A.D. 2600 projection. Ermenjart herself wonders if she may have been overly conservative, however. With “triumphs” such as the Petronas Towers in Kuala Lumpur and the possibilities they open in developing Third World nations, perhaps the plan can be accomplished sooner. In these nights, the founder dreams of a world with cities as reality itself, wilderness reduced to mist and ash, and all the power of ley lines flowing into her hands. Perhaps it can all be accomplished before the turn of the next century! From her, the force of these dreams spreads through the bloodline, urging members to further madness and power, demanding that they become masters of their cities, no matter how much blood must be used
as mortar for the bricks.

Society and Culture
Ermenjart is the undisputed master of the Architects. Elders are blood bound to her, giving her a tight grip on the most powerful Clefs de Voûte. They, in turn, often blood bond their childer to make sure that the line’s mission proceeds without dissension in the ranks. A few young members see no need for such draconian measures, as they find the carrot of power, coupled with their own inherent madness, more than sufficient to keep their ambition in order. The selectivity with which new members are initiated also contributes to making the Architects a tight lineage. While it bears all of the usual rivalries of undead existence, each member knows where he stands. No matter how intense hatred from within becomes, anyone on the outside is automatically an enemy and potential inquisitor.

Nightly activity is mostly occupied with the politicking and hunting that dominates vampiric existence. Members also work toward the fulfillment of their great, deluded dream, building their imagined monolith brick by brick. How exactly an individual answers this call depends on her place and roll in the line. A Clef de Voûte’s time is occupied with keeping her Section d’Or coordinated. Members of a Section d’Or focus on their individual areas of talent, attempting to interweave the mortal, mystical and vampiric through all levels of their portfolio. They also spend a great deal of their time politicking, as they are the Architects most likely to battle over esteem and territorial disputes with other vampires. Not to mention that they often have their eyes on the Clef de Voûte’s position, either in their own city or in another. Lions de Zion have to do all of the above, acting as both Clef and Section for a city, without the direct backing of others. It’s a rare Lion who can actually advance his plans, as it takes both great subtly and vast aggression.

They types of projects that receive the nightly attention of Lions and members of the Section are wide and variable. Members of the Ordo Dracul focus on causing, dealing with and tracking ley-line shifts. That can include anything from studying the effects of wind dispersion from a new skyscraper to the energy created by a sewer or subway line. It also means playing shadow games with mortal mystics or Crone witches, and devising new, more complex and bloodier rituals. Members of the Invictus focus on playing power politics with other vampires, manipulating city resources and fiefs to manage both vampiric and mortal zones of influence, and keeping Mason activities beneath the notice of Prince and Primogen. In addition, there is any number of seeming illogical and random demands thrown into the mix, driven by the particular focus of any Mason’s madness.

Every bloodline member is involved in architecture and city planning in some way, though it need not be a directly obvious connection. Some specialize in coercing and bribing city planners into rezoning areas for development, or to allow construction of buildings that violate zoning laws. Others focus on gaining resources and funding for such construction, or stirring up fear and paranoia in neighborhoods so as to make them easier to rezone and keep the herd’s focus off encroaching expansion. Others put on architectural fares and exhibitions, trying to pick mortal minds for new ideas, or they infiltrate college faculties to gain access to the newest and brightest as potential blood members.

Others focus on less obvious endeavors, such as using origami to find more efficient building models, doing studies on how various materials channel mystical energy, or inquiring into how television shows influence the mental terrain of a city. How much respect Architects are given for such enigmatic pursuits depends on their ability to convince others of their utility. If a member can convince peers that her study of eggshells will yield great results 200 years down the line, she garners almost as much respect as the Mason who influences the construction of a 110-story skyscraper. If she can’t convince anyone of her purpose, she may quickly be reduced to obsolescence.

Kindred folklore is replete with tales of unusual bloodlines and the loathsome powers that are theirs to command, but few lineages are surrounded by as much exaggeration, misinformation, skepticism and trepidation as the Bohagande (or simply the “Jonahs”). According to stories, these Kindred are jinxes. Wherever they go, bad luck is sure to follow as certain as the sun will rise. Each telling relates different tragedies, from havens catching fire and their occupants burning to ash, to an ancilla’s entire financial portfolio crashing overnight, to the trespass of a Lupine in the halls of Elysium.

Many dismiss these stories as the product of overactive imaginations. These “Jonahs” are dismissed nothing more than shadowy bogeymen meant to worry neonates. Others wonder if there might not be such a brood after all, especially when they’re confronted by an extraordinary confluence of tragedies.

A rare few claim to have actually met one of these mythical Kindred. Although they cannot agree on specifics such as parent clan or where the bloodline originated, witnesses agree that the Bohagande are cursed, and that anyone who crosses their path is at great risk. They also claim there is more to the Jonahs than stories suggest, something even more inimical than the line’s telltale curse, further compounding the mystery that surrounds the lineage.

The Bohagande themselves tell progeny that they are the descendants of a Gangrel wanderer whose fateful encounter with a medicine man in the American West led to their creation. According to the most common account, the medicine man was cursed for a terrible crime against his people. Wherever he went, an ill wind blew and those around him suffered. Forced into exile, he sought revenge upon those who had cursed him, and he called upon the ancient spirits of the land to help him. One came to his aid, teaching him how to turn his curse to an advantage by taking the luck lost by others. When the medicine man met the Gangrel, the mortal mistook the vampire for the spirit that had once helped him. Seeking to impress his former mentor, the native demonstrated all he had learned and offered his blood as payment for his debt, thereby passing on his curse and his magic.

Due to their notoriety, the Bohagande rarely announce their presence, preferring to pass themselves off as ordinary Gangrel. It’s not usually long after arriving in some new domain, however, before use of their special Discipline draws unwelcome attention, forcing them to choose between denying their birthright or fleeing. Those who waffle are usually forced to accept the latter if only to avoid a blood hunt.

Aside from their habit of moving from place to place and their shared origin, little else defines members of this bloodline. Jonahs may come from anywhere and have nearly any personality, although some become thrill-seekers as a side effect of their Discipline. With time and fortune on Jonahs’ side, even the most improbable feats are within their reach and few things give a Bohagande as much of a rush as succeeding at the seemingly impossible. And yet, such accomplishments made public make line members’ intolerable to other Kindred. Few Prisci want to entertain a vampire who is prone to dangerous risks that might bring the Masquerade crashing down.

Covenant: Given their tendency toward anonymity and the response they can expect from many Kindred, Bohagande tend to avoid involvement with covenants. When they are drawn to the supportive and philosophical benefits that a society offers, it’s usually to those that recognize the value of these dangerous undead. The Circle of the Crone may boast the most Jonahs, but even then that number might be counted on one hand. Some Acolyte stories are reminiscent of bloodline origins, and curious Jonahs may explore a connection between their own Discipline and Crúac.

The Ordo Dracul can be alluring to Bohagande who hope to shed their line’s reputation through self-denial, or to transcend their curse. The Carthians may harbor a couple of these pariahs, but rare is the Jonah who’s so driven by politics to risk all by joining these blatant free-thinkers. Even so, a Bohagande in Carthian ranks could be a powerful weapon if directed properly, giving the covenant an edge over its competitors.

If the Invictus or Lancea Sanctum harbor a Bohagande, it’s unlikely that they’re aware of it. A Jonah’s membership depends on how well she can keep her true nature hidden. Neither of these groups would welcome a jinx in its midst. The First Estate would see it as a threat to stability, and the Sanctified would view her as an abomination, cursed by God and perhaps even an agent of the Devil himself.

By and large, the Bohagande prefer to remain unaligned, the better to maintain their cover and to pick-up and leave easily should the need arise. It almost always does.

Appearance: A typical Jonah appears no different from any other Gangrel who’s Embraced in the United States. Despite some connection to Native Americans in line origins, there is little evidence to suggest that the Bohagande especially prize those people as childer. In fact, the opposite may actually be the case, given the role the Shoshone played in first casting the hex that the line still bears. Still, a few Bohagande have adopted the practice of tattooing themselves — even beyond the grave — with Native American iconography as a way to at least forge some identify with their semi-mythical past, with the image of a crow figuring prominently in the decoration.

Haven: Knowing that in most cities their stay may be brief, Jonahs tend to seek out the most practical and least complicated havens possible. Abandoned homes and structures are typical choices, although due to their extraordinary luck, some members may be flush with cash and decide to live it up for a time in a penthouse apartment. No matter where they choose to stay, these undead invariably go to great lengths to ensure that they always have at least one means of escape in case the local Sheriff or Hound comes calling. Some choose a location that might pose serious risk to interlopers, like a dilapidated high-rise or a place undergoing construction. The kind of place where an unlucky trespasser may find himself in a very uncomfortable position. In suburban or rural environments, the vampires take what they can get, those who are able to simply slipping into the earth to avoid the sun’s rays.

Background: The majority of Bohagande are individuals who value privacy, who cherish their freedom and who are drawn to risk. People who have nothing to lose and who have no problem packing up and moving on at a moment’s notice are typically chosen. Daredevil types are not uncommon, and those who find a thrill in putting it all on the line are similarly favored. Drifters, gamblers, killers, grifters, extreme athletes and fugitives make up the bulk of the bloodline, but it’s not unheard of for a Jonah to choose, say, a simple roadhouse waitress who’s down on her luck.

Character Creation: Mental traits are perhaps admired most in prospective line members. While Social traits are definitely helpful in getting into and out of trouble, plying them makes for mundane means of interaction and survival. Anyone can have a silver tongue, so where’s the challenge? Mental Attributes and Skills are respected more for the opportunities and angles that can be perceived; plots and schemes to pull from which the lineage’s trademark can be used to escape. Physical traits are a close rival to Mental, simply for the backup they provide in getting out of a scrape.

Merits that lend themselves to solitary survival are also prized. Those include Direction Sense, Danger Sense, Unseen Sense and Fleet of Foot. Social Merits don’t usually qualify among such traits.

If a Gangrel Embraced to the line seeks to explore the potential of his blood early on, an extra dot of Blood Potency initiates him.

Organization: It’s rare for more than one Bohagande to be found in a single domain. There are hardly enough line members as a whole to constitute anything that could resemble a formal gathering. Their proclivities and concerns preclude all but the most informal and temporary organization, with the sire-childe bond the only one that’s commonly observed.

One Jonah in a given city can cause enough trouble. The presence of two or more could result in catastrophes that even the luckiest Bohagande might be unable to escape. The bloodline holds that whenever members encounter one another, the eldest may claim the right of residency. The younger must leave immediately, unless she wishes to challenge the elder. If that happens, the eldest chooses a single test of luck in which each competes. The winner may stay and the loser is bound to depart. Those who go unbeaten long enough are accorded special status among the bloodline. The Bohagande who has gone the longest without being bested is given the title Storm Crow. There’s some disagreement as to the identity of this figure at any given time, and some claim the position is more rumor than reality.

The founder of the line is also recognized as particularly deserving of respect. Lucas Harwood does not wield any authority over his brood, but his voice carries special weight. Because few claim to know where he is or even if he still exists (and fewer still can honestly say they have actually met him), respect is usually shown through reverence to the words ascribed to him. A body of stories about Harwood’s travels, his personal experiences and his advice to his progeny exists and is passed from Bohagande to Bohagande, albeit in no fixed form. More fable than dogma, these tales are important to the bloodline and are perhaps its strongest connection to its origin.

Jonahs are found most frequently in North America and generally outside large cities, where they avoid persecution. The line’s numbers are few, since there’s no significant advantage to siring given the conflicts that arise with one’s own childe. Members found elsewhere are true rarities, but they have a distinct advantage. Few Kindred outside North America have heard stories of the Bohagande and the curse that follows them. Jonahs who travel to a distant land may find it easier to hide their true nature and may even fit into vampiric society by adopting less nomadic and paranoid ways. Yet there is still the challenge of avoiding the wrath of undead who suffer chronic bad luck.

Concepts: Drifter, card sharp, small-time grifter, traveling carnival act (The Luckiest Lady in the World!), thrill-seeking biker, wandering preacher, carefree rock guitarist, eerie fortune teller, professional art thief, stock market “day” trader, street vigilante, freelance photographer

History
Few Bohagande are terribly concerned about their origins. Even though they tell similar (or different stories), rare is the Jonah who actually considers them anything more than entertaining folktales. One story is as good as any, providing just enough history to answer the most nagging of questions. Even those who claim to be familiar with the bloodline’s founder exhibit skepticism about the details of their origin, admitting that he may be guilty of more than a little fabrication. The Bohagande are who they are. Given their more pressing concerns, such as avoiding blood hunts, the specifics of their creation pale by comparison. Still, a similar story is passed on to new members if for no other reason than to provide some sense of shared identity.

In 1848, somewhere on the edge of the hellish expanse known today as Death Valley, a Gangrel named Lucas Harwood met a man who changed the Savage forever. Harwood had spent the bulk of his unlife prowling the burgeoning cities of the East, preying on the increasingly urbanized masses, or on their cousins in the small towns that had arisen between the Atlantic and the Mississippi. And yet, Harwood was most tempted by those he perceived as his mortal counterparts: Native Americans. Their primitive ways, ancient roots, fearsome medicine and savagery in battle struck a chord and drew him to their rich blood. The Shawnee, Chickahominy, Rappahanocks, Lenape, Cherokee, Saponi, Chicora and other tribes became his favored vessels, but their numbers dwindled and many tribes were only a shadow of what they had once been. Harwood longed to drink from a well undiluted by the taint of European civility, and so in the early 1830s he turned his back on his former hunting grounds and set off for the unsettled West to quench his desire.

He traveled with a single retainer, a rugged scout of French extraction who claimed to have heard from Meriwether Lewis’ own lips of lands and people that stretched to the distant shore. Trusting his guide to keep him from harm, Harwood joined the flood of wide-eyed settlers, prospectors, charlatans, prostitutes, soldiers, entrepreneurs and fugitives seeking fortune, adventure and sanctuary in the nation’s western reaches. The journey showed the vampire things he could not have dreamed, and dangers that nearly sounded the last note of his Requiem. Harwood was enslaved by the experience. He roved across the land, led by the Beast that he had caged for so long.

For a decade, Harwood stalked natives for the challenge they posed. The fearsome kine were not easily caught off guard, and because they suffered under no Masquerade, they did not hesitate to accept the existence of the creature that harried them. Skilled hunters, some braves tracked the Gangrel by day and discovered his haven, brutally murdering his retainer. Only the Disciplines of his parent clan saved him from a similar fate. The myriad dangers that Harwood then faced did not deter him, however. He thrilled to solitary existence and honed his predatory abilities to new heights. Eventually he even learned to take the form of a coyote and crow, the better to go where he pleased. It was in bird form that he came upon a lone mortal one night, high upon a rock overlooking Shoshone land. The individual was a gifted medicine man — a bohagande in his own language. Once named Seeing Star for his knowledge of the heavens, the man was now an outcast. He had slain an innocent child in order to work a great rite, which had been forbidden by his elders. Seeing Star was brought before a tribal gathering, judged guilty and sentenced to exile from his people.

To ensure that the medicine man would never again haunt them, the three wisest of the tribe laid a curse upon him so that bad luck would come to any who took him in, a curse that turned his hair white. Finally, the name Seeing Star was stripped from him, robbing the man of his identity and thereby denying him the power he once commanded. From that point forward, he was no longer Shoshone and was forced into the wastelands to meet whatever fate the Great Spirit held for him.

Word of the curse and its nameless bearer spread across Sogobia, the tribal homeland. Everywhere he went, disaster was at his side. Left to places deemed desolate, he struggled to survive and railed against the heavens themselves, swearing revenge. When the man was at wits end and with nowhere else to turn, Crow agreed to aid him. Laughing, the spirit told his petitioner that he did not possess the power to remove so great a curse. Angered, the medicine man tried to grab the bird, but Crow had luck on his side and escaped. The spirit told the wretched Shoshone that he was not laughing at the man’s misfortune, but because the outcast was too blind to see the powerful gift he had been given.

“There is no such thing as bad luck,” Crow said. “What some call bad luck is only luck’s absence. Wherever you go, men around you are the cursed ones, not you. Your gift steals the luck they all carry with them, leaving them empty. If you knew how, you could take their luck and have it for yourself. Instead, you let it fall through your fingers like sand. That is why I laugh at you. You shake the fruit from the tree, but you leave it on the ground to rot.”

The medicine man realized the truth in Crow’s words. The suffering of others could be his strength. He threw himself before the wise spirit and begged Crow to show him how to master his curse, offering everything he had as payment. Crow accepted, saying that the price would be to one day teach the spirit something that the man had learned. The deal struck, Crow showed his pupil a new path. He also gave the man a new name — White Star, inspired by his hair — to restore the power he had lost.

Then Crow took flight, leaving the medicine man no longer eager for death’s comforting welcome. White Star quickly mastered what he had learned and went among men again, exacting his revenge. Each of those who had cursed him died in a terrible accident. The elders that had condemned him met their end, and any other who crossed his path found catastrophe to be her new companion.

When Harwood alighted on a bluff near White Star, still in the form of a crow, he first thought the man was quite old because of his hair. Perhaps this mortal had come out here, far from his people, to seek a vision, a desire with which Harwood was familiar. Although wary of some hidden danger, Harwood approached, his unquenchable hunger overriding caution. Before he could shift form and pounce, the man turned and proved himself to be younger and more capable than Harwood guessed. The native was grim and exuded a power that belied his calm demeanor. Fearful that the man might be a Lupine or worse, Harwood maintained his feathered seeming and prepared to escape. He had spent enough time around the tribes to understand native tongues, and was surprised when the man spoke to him as if he was an old friend.

“Many seasons have passed since we last spoke, Crow,” the man said. “Your medicine is strong and with it I have had my revenge. I know why you have come back now. It is time for me to repay you as I agreed. Tell me what you wish to learn and I shall teach it.”

Startled by the mortal’s manner, Harwood didn’t know what to do. He was intrigued by the prospect of a gift, but the Beast had other plans. The vampire shed his winged guise before the man’s eyes and leapt for his throat. To the Gangrel’s chagrin, his foot caught on a stone and his wicked claws barely grazed his intended victim, drawing only a trickle of blood that the attacker licked clean. Now White Star was ready, and when the Savage lunged again, his blow went wild. His Beast enraged, Harwood snarled his determination and made what would surely be a killing blow. But the medicine man was favored by fate once again and the assailant was almost sent over a precipice. Misfortune plagued the vampire’s every move. What should have been the simplest thing was a harsh lesson in futility. When the first rays of sunlight shone across the flat land, Harwood, so focused on his intended prey, was taken by surprise. Howling his frustration, he sank into the cold earth, still desperate for nourishment.

When the Gangrel crept from the ground the next sunset, he was amazed to find the white-haired man still there, clearly awaiting his return. Unwilling to repeat the same mistakes of the night before, Harwood pushed his hunger as far down as he could and sat across from the Shoshone, respectful of the man’s evident power. White Star still believed that Harwood was Crow, regardless of the form the spirit took, and wanted to know why Crow had tried to kill him. “I had promised to teach you as you had taught me. Our bargain was not for my life.”

Harwood was confused, but caution kept his tongue. The outcast bohagande awaited an answer, but when none came, he offered his own interpretation. “Ah, you have forgotten who you are, Crow. So it is when you wear the skin of another for too long. Because you have forgotten, I shall repay you by teaching you what you have lost.” As the stars wheeled in the heavens and Bat chased Moth across the valley, White Star showed Harwood how to use spirit medicine as Crow had once taught him. Again the sun rose and once more Harwood slept beneath the desert. When he awoke this time, however, he was alone. The curse of the bohagande and the medicine of Crow were now his.

Society and Culture
Treated like lepers and hounded by their fellow Kindred, yet possessed of a power that enable them to accomplish the seemingly impossible, the Bohagandes’ Requiem is like no other. The temptation to exercise the line’s special Discipline is difficult to resist, especially knowing that the hammer of a Prince’s law may descend without warning. Being so lucky as to survive such a surprise is as practical as it is irresistible. Jonahs therefore tend to view others, Kindred and kine alike, as vessels containing not only blood, but the luck they need to survive. Indeed, many line members are addicted to the rush of stealing another’s fortune.

Since use of Sunnikuse does not go entirely unnoticed, Bohagande are forced to be as careful as possible. Simply going around, stealing luck is a good way to call down persecution. A Bohagande thus finds a gimmick that fits her personality and special talents as a cover for her larceny. She might stick to something overt, like engaging victims in a game of chance, or she might use straightforward psychology as the best subterfuge, suggesting how a victim invites bad luck and then offering proof. Whatever method she uses, her modus operandus provides just enough justification for ill events. Such deceptions are certainly not necessary, but without one a victim is likely to lay blame outward rather than inward.

When two Bohagande cross paths, the elder has the right to command the younger to move on. If the younger wishes to challenge, the older declares a contest, with the winner claiming the right of domain. The challenge can take nearly any form, so long as its outcome depends primarily on luck. Even if the contest requires substantial physical exertion or a particular test of skill, the ultimate criterion hinges on whether or not luck can prevail.

Shortly after entering a city, a century-old Jonah may discover the presence of another of his bloodline, a neonate who has made his haven there for a dozen years. Unless the senior Bohagande simply wishes to move on, he can challenge the younger and declare the terms. There is no shame in the neonate acquiescing without a contest, but if he does accept it’s considered terribly bad form to withdraw prematurely.

The challenge might be as simple as a game of Russian Roulette or as outlandish as a 100-mph race in the wrong direction on a busy highway. Most of the time, the more dangerous the contest the more respect the winner receives. Given the risks involved, it’s not uncommon for Bohagande to meet Final Death in these contests. It’s also perfectly acceptable for participants to use Sunnikuse against each other before and during a challenge. Thus, a normally fortunate Jonah may discover herself robbed at the worst possible moment. Eventually, luck does run out, even for members of this line.

Besides Lucas Harwood, the only other Bohagande to claim any special recognition is the one known as the Storm Crow. This individual has supposedly never been defeated in a challenge and is deemed the luckiest Kindred walking the earth. Some stories claim that the current Storm Crow is a particularly feral Gangrel named Becky Finch, the moll of a successful Kansas City mobster before her Embrace. Some disagree, saying that she was finally bested by another, or that her claim was never legitimate.

The name Cameron is bandied about as the possible identity of the Storm Crow, but few can agree on any details about this little-known figure. Ultimately, the concept of Storm Crow is more tall tale than reality to most, a character suitable for yarns and emulation. That doesn’t stop some Bohagande from actively seeking out a master of luck, however. These competitive Jonahs hope to challenge and defeat him, claiming the title for themselves. Equally motivating, rumors ascribe strange powers of Sunnikuse to a Storm Crow. Would-be usurpers hope they can learn these tricks for themselves.

Every Bohagande possesses a secret that he protects over and above all else. Upon a Gangrel’s initiation, a sire or Avus bestows a Shoshone name that makes the new Bohagande known to the spirit Crow, who’s held as the true father of the line. The name is written on the newcomer’s chest in the Avus’ blood, but is never again recorded or spoken, not even between these two Kindred. Anyone who learns this name and understands it for what it is has a powerful charm over the subject, whose use of Sunnikuse against that individual is compromised.

Some Bohagande seek out the names of others of the line in order to give themselves an advantage in future confrontations, but most Avus are loath to part with such knowledge. Should a betrayal be traced back, they run the very real risk of having their own names revealed, effectively robbing from them of their own power. Other Kindred who discover a Jonah’s Shoshone name may not know the power that comes from sharing it. Few if any outside the lineage are aware of this Achilles’ heel.

The Gethsemani are an enigma that brings out the best and worst of the Kindred. Named for the place of Christ’s crucifixion, the bloodline is an offshoot of the Nosferatu that possesses an uncanny ability to cause others to exhibit the wounds suffered by Jesus on the cross. More disturbing, the stigmata that appear on victims seem to be imbued with a portion of divine — or diabolical — power. Those who drink from them gain access to miraculous capabilities. So controversial is the source of the bloodline’s unusual power that member’s find themselves the objects of fanatical devotion or damnation as blasphemous servants of the infernal.

In some domains, these Ecstatics may find quick acceptance, especially if the local Bishop or other authority chooses to recognize the Gethsemani as instruments of the Almighty blessed with the power to recreate the sacred works of Longinus. Even if the Sanctified don’t have a significant presence, a small community of faithful may offer a Gethsemani sanctuary, keeping the ward safe from other vampires. Indeed, keepers’ fanaticism can be so extreme that a Gethsemani’s Requiem is little different than imprisonment. The Gethsemani is followed everywhere in case some miracle occurs on her account, and to forestall any conceivable danger to her person.

Elsewhere, the Lancea Sanctum may look upon the Gethsemani as vile corrupters and seeks to run them from a city, or even destroy them outright. It’s not unheard of for the hysteria around a line member to become so great that a blood hunt is called to cleanse the unholy taint ascribed to this odious spawn of Satan. Only where the Spear is particularly weak and the Kindred in power do not hold a strong opinion one way or the other do Ecstatics find a real measure of personal freedom.

The bloodline has its origins in Europe of the late 16th century, when a pious Nosferatu was so taken by the religious devotion of an elderly nun (who was renowned for having demonstrated stigmata) that he Embraced her, hoping that his own curse might be lifted. Instead, the nun discovered that her saintly touch caused others to suffer ecstasies and bleed as she once had. So inspiring was her passion and the wonders she could perform, she became nothing less than a saint among local undead. Her later canonization by the mortal Church in Rome only increased her Kindred standing.

She became the Archbishop of Florence and established a special monastery for her progeny beneath her old convent in nearby Prato. Choosing only other, mortal stigmatics for the Embrace, her line grew slowly.

Although their numbers are assumed to still be few tonight, the Gethsemani can be found nearly anywhere. Most seem to cleave to their religious origins and accept their role as agents of the divine where they are so received. They maintain the practices taught in the Prato monastery and seek out mortal stigmatics where they can to bolster their numbers.

A growing minority of Gethsemani forsakes such traditions, however. These naysayers consider the Embrace a cruel curse that robbed them of God’s special favor, for which they have in turn cursed those responsible (or at the very least have sought as much distance from them as possible).

Others have simply been subverted by the dark tendencies of their kind, allowing their previously strong religious convictions to be trampled under their addiction to blood, the howl of the Beast, and what they see as the necessities of the Danse Macabre. These disillusioned Kindred no longer place importance on religion or its trappings and see the Lancea Sanctum as more prison than pulpit. No longer sure of God’s role in their Requiem, they cannot fully explain what it is they do, but given the nightly demands imposed on all Kindred, they don’t dwell on it too much. Some of these apostates have joined the Invictus, with its similarities to the Lancea Sanctum, while others have turned to the Ordo Dracul to better understand their nature and perhaps transcend their curse. A rumor circulates that a few have thrown in with the Circle of the Crone, which is not entirely unlikely given the central role blood plays in the covenant’s philosophy. Finally, some whisper that one or more Gethsemani have become members of Belial’s Brood and are influential in that diabolical sect.

Covenant: The Lancea Sanctum claims the lion’s share of Gethsemani, coveting them as saintly figures who must be adored, emulated, idolized and protected from harm in those domains. A Gethsemani may be granted a ridiculous degree of influence that he can easily turn to his advantage. This is the primary reason why most Ecstatics join the covenant, or at least choose to remain within its parochial reach. The downside is that Ecstatics are rarely allowed much freedom, as they are hounded from sundown till sunup by Kindred desperate to be near them, whether to receive some special blessing or out of fanatical devotion. Where the Lancea Sanctum is of lesser standing, Sanctified may be even more smothering, terrified that their unliving saint may come to some harm by non-believers.

Of course, not every scion of Longinus accepts the Gethsemani as specially touched by God. In those infrequent domains where the covenant sees Ecstatics as a danger — to its faith, its political power or both — a Gethsemani’s Requiem can be hellish. Inquisitors seize every chance to harass and perhaps torture an Ecstatic in hopes of demonstrating to all the diabolical nature of the bloodline.

The Invictus typically follows the lead of the Sanctified when it comes to the Gethsemani, though the First Estate is rarely as extreme in its veneration or demonizing. If the Lancea Sanctum has a relatively insignificant presence or if it is openly at odds with the First Estate, the Invictus is likely to suffer a Gethsemani, accepting him as little more than an unusual Nosferatu. For line members not entirely convinced of the virtue of the Sanctified, or who are labeled infernal, the First Estate can offer a suitable welcome. Even so, not even the most apathetic members of the Invictus are so blind as to overlook the instability that an Ecstatic can cause. Covenant members therefore take care to watch over a Gethsemani for any sign that his presence may threaten their power. Rarely is an Ecstatic granted any true political standing, either.

The Carthians are rarely of interest to members of the bloodline. The covenant’s potential lack of hierarchy offers the Gethsemani little protection, and few Carthians are likely to become the kind of adoring devotees that so many Ecstatics count on for support. Only the most apolitical and irreligious of the line are typically drawn to this group.

Gethsemani are creatures of deeply mystical significance, regardless of whoever or whatever else they may be. The Ordo Dracul recognizes this reality, even if the covenant might downplay religious connotations, and takes an active interest in learning more about the lineage. The covenant’s relatively clinical approach to stigmata holds a strong appeal for a minority of Ecstatics. Those individuals can be themselves in such circles, rather than be what’s expected of them.

The Circle of the Crone has its own appeal, too. Blood is central to pagan rituals, and Ecstatics certainly encourage bloodletting. Line members might find sympathy rather than adulation within the covenant, but may also find themselves the objects of rituals rather than participants.

Those Gethsemani who forsake the community and protection of any covenant are rare in the extreme. These few pariahs tend to have lonesome Requiems, pursuing personal goals far from the prying eyes of other Kindred.

Appearance: The Gethsemani are no different physically than other Nosferatu. They suffer the same horrible disfigurements or nauseating demeanors. Most stigmatics hail from cultures where Christianity has had some lasting influence. They’re mainly of European stock or were Embraced in the Americas. Those who are particularly religious tend to dress in a way that reflects their devotion, whether that means rich vestments or the threadbare garb of a pious ascetic. The minority who have fallen from grace dress in whatever fashion best fits their personality and position in Kindred society.

Haven: Where a Gethsemani is treated as an unliving saint, a haven is likely to be provided by her true believers. If followers are few, the haven may be a humble dwelling. If admirers are many, the Gethsemani may enjoy a ridiculously overwrought home, possibly attended by a few zealots who dedicate their Requiems to the Ecstatic’s protection. In either case, the ha-
ven is decorated with appropriate religious paraphernalia, from
small icons, crucifixes and candles to full-blown biblical mu-
rals, exquisite artifacts of precious metal, and possibly even an
ornate throne. Gethsemani who do not enjoy this kind of
adulation or who seek some measure of privacy prefer havens
that do not belie their true nature. Town homes, apartments
and ordinary houses are all possible.

Background: The Gethsemani Embrace only mortals who have demonstrated stigmata at some time in their lives, even if it was only for a brief period. They go to great lengths to discern the veracity of any reports of miracles, relying on Church records of witness testimony and clerical investigation. Because a new childe cannot claim her full inheritance until the potency of her blood is demonstrated (she joins the bloodline), a sire is often unsure of whether a fledgling was a true stigmatic. Only when the postulant’s potency has grown sufficiently can the truth be known.

Those who were not genuine stigmatics in life (victims of the Stigmatica Discipline do not count; their stigmata are not spontaneous) are never able to join the bloodline, remaining ordinary Nosferatu. There is no chance for them to become Gethsemani (though they may seek to join another bloodline in the usual manner). In the case of a true, mortal stigmatic, her long suffering ends upon the Embrace and she never bears the mystical wounds again. The stigmata are now hers to inflict. There are no known cases of vampires displaying genuine, spontaneous stigmata, at least none that have been made common knowledge.

Most childer are of European or American origin, given that most cases of stigmata are concentrated in those regions. It is traditionally accepted that only extremely pious kine can bear stigmata, but there are enough exceptions to conclude that while most Gethsemani were very religious in life, a handful were relatively agnostic and did not accept their experiences as spiritual. Similarly, some who were once paragons of Christian faith did not remain so. All were (and are) still viable as initiates to the bloodline, but the Requiem exacts a terrible toll on a Kindred and Ecstatics are no different. Some turn away from their faith after the Embrace, and a few actually turn against it, cursing God for delivering them into damnation.

Regardless of their beliefs or cultural backgrounds, nearly all Gethsemani feel a heavy loss after becoming the undead. The pain they endured from the stigmata was intense. Even if not considered to be of religious origins, it was supernatural nonetheless and marked them as someone special. This fact was a profound part of their psychology and their identities were permanently tied to their suffering. The hunger that haunts them as Kindred is not quite the same as the agony of the stigmata, no matter how difficult it is to bear. Unlike the stigmata, the hunger can be quenched, even if only temporarily. The agony that came with the wounds could not be. Within a few years of becoming Gethsemani, a Kindred experiences a growing need to reclaim the suffering that once defined them. Before long, he feels emotionally satisfied only through masochistic practices. This self-abuse can be extreme, with flagellation, piercing or even more outrageous self-injury. Sadism is not far away on the spectrum of derangement. A number of Ecstatics find fulfillment in the torment of others. Miracle workers or depraved torturers, the Gethsemani can be truly terrifying.

Character Creation: Given the unpredictability and inexplicability of stigmata and its manifestation in mortals, would-be Gethsemani sires have little choice in whom to choose for the Embrace. No one outlook or skill set is ideal for childer. The line can’t afford to be that choosy. Thus, no particular Attribute and Skill group prevails among Ecstatic characters. Individual Skills can be common, though. Any of Academics, Investigation, Medicine, Occult or Science is often possessed thanks to explorations of who and what stigmatics are. Empathy, Expression, Intimidation and Persuasion can arise from efforts to cope with manifestations and others’ reactions to them.

The Fame and Inspiring Merits may have arisen from days or nights spent reveling in religious conviction or influence. Haven and Retainer may be possessed by a vampire now venerated by followers. And, of course, an extra dot of Blood Potency is required at character creation for a seemingly “ordinary” Nosferatu to be eligible to join the line right away.

Organization: In places where more than a single Gethsemani can be found, the bloodline usually organizes as an exclusive and secretive monastic order within the Lancea Sanctum’s existing hierarchy. The eldest Ecstatic assumes the title of Passionente, essentially the head of the order, and her word is law in the community. This individual is usually one of the Anointed, but rarely assumes the responsibilities of the covenant’s leadership. (There are no reports of Gethsemani Bishops or Cardinals.) The Passionente dedicates herself to inspiring other Kindred to recognize the Testament of Longinus as sacred, and to abandon agnosticism in favor of the doctrine of the Sanctified. The rest of the domain’s Ecstatics perform their sanguine miracles before unbelievers, demonstrating what they claim is the divine power that God has seen fit to bestow upon them, Damned though they may be. The Passionente leads her community in private prayer and oversees opaque rites carried out within the impenetrable privacy of the Gethsemani cloister. Some communities obey strict rules of conduct that can include oaths of silence, blood fasting, a proscription on all light, and assigned labors, the last performed primarily as a show of spiritual devotion. Besides Passionente, other titles may exist, usually created based on the designated role of an Ecstatic, such as the Epistolarian or Tabernacula. In those domains where asceticism is the predominant flavor of worship, Gethsemani titles are typically eschewed.

Line members who have abandoned religion stand outside these communities, left to seek their own places among Kindred however they might. To the rest of the lineage, they are seen as the worst possible traitors, for they have turned their backs on God, who in His mercy has marked them as special among the Damned. For these individuals, there can be no clemency.

As mentioned, rarely do the Gethsemani claim full authority within a domain. This is in large part because the Lancea Sanctum, as much as it might venerate the Ecstatics, also fears them. Covenant leaders do what they can to keep the bloodline from gaining meaningful political authority, concerned that its secretive and tight-knit ways might threaten their own standing. This paranoia is not completely unfounded. Some Gethsemani, particularly where their numbers are significant (three or higher), do indeed seek to enforce upon their fellow Sanctified what they see as acceptable religious policy, feeling that they more than any other Kindred are close to understanding the true Will of God. More than one Passionente has studied the Danse Macabre and has used this mastery to advance her views throughout the Lancea Sanctum. Most are smart enough to do so with cautious subtlety. They’re all too aware of the calamity that might befall them and their followers should their actions be perceived as a direct challenge to the established order. One fearful Priest spreading rumors of infernal rites can bring a quick and merciless end to all that the Gethsemani have accomplished.

The bloodline is understandably concentrated in areas with a rich tradition in Church influence. Cities in Mediterranean Europe and France, parts of North Africa, and North America are the most likely places to find Ecstatics. The largest known population is at the Convent of San Vincenzio in Prato, Italy, where the founder continues to minister to her descendants. Some say as many as a dozen Gethsemani make that place their haven. Outside such gatherings, Ecstatics are itinerant. They’re some of the most devoutly religious members of the bloodline, ready to risk their unlives to pursue God’s work far from the security of their own.

Concepts: Kindred saint, obsequious penitent, visionary hermit, violent iconoclast, suicidal basket case, sideshow miracle-worker, deluded Christ-figure, ritualistic serial killer, inspired artist, diabolical cult leader

History
In 1522, young Alessandra Lucrezia Romola was baptized in a chapel in Florence. For her, life would not take its usual course. God had marked her as his instrument for the duration of her mortal years, and for all those that would follow. Her father, Pier Francesco de’ Ricci, was descended from a long line of wealthy merchants and bankers, but it was her stepmother who instructed her in faith, assuming responsibilities when the girl’s birth-mother died. Fiametta da Diaccetto was fascinated by Alessandra’s habit of spending hours each day in solitary prayer, and did what she could to nourish the child’s sense of devotion.

So certain of her calling, Alessandra declared her desire to join a convent at a very early age. An atmosphere of relative laxity pervaded the monastic orders of the time, however. Alessandra would settle only for a place that demanded the strictest observances, the better to serve God. She found her convent at San Vincenzio, a rigid religious enclave established in 1503 by nine sisters devoted to the teachings of the controversial prophet and reformer Girolamo Savonarola, a Dominican friar whose sermons relied heavily on Revelations and the threat of damnation. From the moment she set foot in the convent, Alessandra’s destiny was clear.

First condemned by the community for the stigmata (or “Ecstasy of the Passion”) that she suffered, Alessandra’s humility and piety eventually won over all around her. She took the new name Catherine de’ Ricci and was appointed to a succession of increasingly important offices, eventually serving as prioress until her departure from the mortal realm on February 2, 1590. Her holiness was such that she was eventually beatified by Clement XII in 1732 and made a saint 14 years later by Benedict XIV. The kine of Tuscany still celebrate her feast on the 13th of February, holding a special mass at the covenant, now called Santa Caterina. Catherine de’ Ricci did pass from the realm of the living, but an unidentified Nosferatu did not allow her to depart from the world. The Haunt had traveled far to gaze upon the prioress, risking all in the hope that her blessing might transform him physically and spiritually. The Requiem was difficult for this misshapen creature. His once-staunch faith had all but fled him, bludgeoned by the demands of unlife and the sinful urges that claimed his trembling, dead flesh. Hearing of Catherine’s miracles, he found his way to the convent, desperate for some final shred of mercy from on High. His devilish talents allowed him to penetrate the inner chambers without disturbing the sisterhood, until he entered the private apartments of the Madre Sanguigna of San Vincenzio. He found her alone and bent in prayer, and such was her holy presence that his deceit failed and he stood before her unveiled, body and soul. Catherine had been waiting for his visit for more than a year, for she had already been made aware by the Holy Spirit of how she would serve next. She had been one of His most heavenly children and now she would be one of his most damned.

To the dismay of Kindred theologians, no further mention of Catherine’s sire is found in scripture or oral history. As he came to her, invisible and unknown, he left her. Some apocryphal texts hint that when he saw that he had Embraced a creature already certain of her place in Hell, he retreated in horror. Unable to face what he had created, he left her and in some cases is said to have destroyed himself at sunrise.

Whatever the case may be, the experience transformed Catherine in more than just the “usual” ways. The suffering that she had lived with for so long was now hers to give with but a touch. Others would come to know the Ecstasy of the Passion as she had, and would be redeemed in their agony. They would come to understand through the stigmata that to be close to God one must first suffer as God. It was her holy purpose to bring others to God, and so she set forth on this labor. She sought kine throughout Europe who were rumored to be ecstatics, testing each until she was pleased with the purity of their wounds. These she Embraced them, sharing the rapture that was already hers and instructing them in the strict monastic rules she established. Her childer stayed with her at Prato, where she oversaw the construction of a subterranean cloister to provide a haven for her new order, the Gethsemani. As in life, she presided over the community, and only those who proved their devotion were allowed to continue her holy purpose in the world outside the walls of San Vincenzio.

Society and Culture
Gethsemani carry on the traditions and mission of Catherine de’ Ricci — respectfully referred to as the Madre Sanguigna — wherever they’re found (with the exception of those who have turned away from their religious origins, of course). The bloodline is both a family and monastic order, and is therefore unusually tight-knit. The Passionente is father and mother to his community. In places where the Lancea Sanctum is not particularly influential, the Passionente may even serve as the highest spiritual authority among the Gethsemani.

Nothing is done without permission of the local elder of the line, who dictates the precise rules for the group. All observances and proscriptions are his to decide, and in many cases can be quite harsh. Few Nosferatu not sired by an Ecstatic ask to join the bloodline; fewer still have the bona fides required. One has to have been a true stigmatic in life. Two to four Gethsemani is typical when they are found together at all. When procreation is forbidden or difficult, an Ecstatic is prone to recruit ghouls from the ranks of stigmatics, instead. Even so, the deficit of actual stigmatics in a world where faith has largely evaporated means that few congregations ever number more than a half-dozen members, Kindred or ghoul.

The strict rules promulgated by the Passionente regulate nearly every aspect of a Gethsemani’s Requiem. Feeding is particularly restricted. Kine are often brought to a convent where they serve as blood dolls, providing sustenance even as they serve as subjects for repeated use of Stigmatica. Vessels are usually so overwhelmed by the repeated experience of inhuman pleasure and pain that accompanies their blood loss that they cannot be allowed to return to the day-lit world. Most survive only a few years before their bodies collapse under the tremendous physical and emotional abuse. By tradition, Gethsemani are permitted to drink their fill only at scheduled times, commonly an hour after sunset, at midnight and an hour before sunrise. These are communal feedings; an Ecstatic in a community may feed elsewhere or at other times only with special dispensation. Individuals abroad feed alone, of course, but at the prescribed hours.

Clothing is also governed by rules set forth by the local Passionente. All members in a domain might be required wear a similar outfit, perhaps a simple robe or something more elaborate. Other times, rules might proscribe certain particularly offensive elements of fashion, such as wearing of anything on the head. Language may be regulated, with one convent requiring use of Italian for all conversation, while another may actually disallow any speech, perhaps providing an hour’s reprieve once each night. Gethsemani can be restricted in what they may possess, as well. In very rigid environments, ownership of even a book might be a violation. In general, the community relishes this kind of self-denial and structure. Although members are Damned, religious structure presumably brings them closer to God. This does not mean there isn’t regular disobedience, only that it is usually in the form of minor illicitness, not wholesale rebellion.

The 2nd night of February is celebrated by the bloodline to venerate the Embrace of the Madre Sanguigna. In most domains, Gethsemani go to great lengths to fortify themselves for the all-night mass known as the Passion of the Damned. From dusk till dawn, they abandon all restraint and visit all manner of abusive horrors on themselves, fellow Ecstatics and on hapless kine gathered for the occasion. It’s a night of unimaginable pain and pleasure, not to mention bloodletting. The use of Stigmatica is crucial to the experience, as blood from victims’ wounds is imbued with a power that fuels even greater ecstasy. Few kine survive the night, and it is not unknown for line members to fall into torpor during the Passion. Some have even been destroyed, so great was their suffering.

Not every Ecstatic spends her waking hours in meditative prayer, menial labor or masochistic exultation. In an increasing number of cities, community rules are quite relaxed, possibly even informal and left to the discretion of each individual Gethsemani. A Passionente is still recognized and his word is still binding, but that’s because he chooses not to apply strictures to each Gethsemani’s Requiem. Ascetics, hermits and “reformed” Ecstatics are likely to apply a light hand to their communities, putting emphasis on practice and mystical understanding of Stigmatica rather than on governance. This lenience leaves a Gethsemani to do as she pleases so long as she doesn’t blatantly violate a Passionente’s general instructions. She is free to congregate with other Kindred, pursue personal affairs and even become involved in the mire that is Kindred politics. This is especially true where Gethsemani presence is minimal. Here, one can capitalize on the curiosity and fervor of other Kindred and make a place for oneself. Of course, an Ecstatic may still remain a pious devotee to the Madre Sanguigna. The individual is just outside a community of her own kind.

Regardless of the Requiem of a given Gethsemani, all conduct themselves with care. Not so much to avoid falling from the path of holy purpose, but to avoid theever-present dangers posed to figures of such religious controversy. Even where she is adored, the wise Ecstatic keeps her true nature known only to those she can trust. She may have a congregation of devotees and admirers, but outside this circle she typically presents herself as nothing other than a particularly spiritual Nosferatu.

Too many Kindred eye Stigmatica and its practitioners with measured skepticism. Even if they do not see it as a blasphemy to be crushed, they might easily spread word of Gethsemani to those who would. Most Ecstatic groups are therefore advertised to other Kindred as nothing more than unusually private coteries of strong religious persuasion. Many remain entirely hidden within the hierarchy of the Lancea Sanctum, obfuscating their nature to avoid the kind of response that sometimes arises from detractors. This secrecy is even more important to lone Gethsemani who have no community to turn to for protection. A solitary member is likely to be exceptionally private, practicing Stigmatica only when he is sure to be safe from prying eyes.

The ancient Khaibit bloodline is dying out. This
Mekhet offshoot seems to have lost its reason for ex-
istence. Traditionally, members of the lineage have
served blood magicians in the Circle of the Crone. A Khaibit procures victims for his master to
feed upon, manages her worldly affairs and
generally frees her to concentrate on her
mystical research. When necessary, a
Khaibit also serves as bodyguard,
thief or even assassin.

A Khaibit’s favored Disciplines make him an excellent guard: Auspex to notice a danger, Celerity to react quickly and Vigor to strike hard, replacing the Mekhet’s usual penchant for concealment. Khaibit also carry an aptitude for a rare Discipline, generally believed to be the line’s invention long, long ago. Other Kindred call the Mekhet “Shadows,” but the Khaibit can develop actual power over darkness. Indeed, their power to evoke, shape and become darkness led to the bloodline’s name — the ancient Egyptian word for “shadow.”

Now, however, few people accept eternal service to another, living or undead. Old Khaibit seldom find childer willing to carry on the bloodline’s traditional role. Young Khaibit refuse to serve and sometimes join covenants other than the Circle. Disgusted sires may refuse to initiate such “disobedient” neonates into the bloodline’s power, or elect to teach childer who awaken Khaibit blood on their own. Increasing numbers of Kindred think of line members simply as “Mekhet with shadow powers.” Indeed, many young Khaibit see themselves that way.

Covenant: In the last thousand years, the Khaibit have served the Circle of the Crone almost exclusively. More than half the bloodline sticks by this old bond. Indeed, some Asps have become competent blood magicians in their own right, instead of merely serving them. In the last two centuries, some Asps took service among the Invictus, the Ordo Dracul or to a much lesser degree the Lancea Sanctum and Carthians. Now, Khaibit who don’t know or care about tradition join whatever covenant suits their personalities or goals.

Appearance: As with the parent clan, there’s no such thing as a typical Khaibit. Line members can be male or female, young or old (in mortal appearance, anyway), or of any race. Asps dress to blend in with the kine around them. Those who fulfill roles as Retainers

Very few neonates ever learn their bloodline’s true, original purpose. Then again, few elders remember it, either. The Khaibit were not always “undead butlers.” The lineage’s true history is hidden by time and geography.

Long ago, Mekhet vampires led a secret cult dedicated to Set, the Egyptian god of war, desert, chaos and darkness. Some Mekhet also became warriors of the cult. Their symbol was the asp — a silent, deadly killer, and one of Set’s totem animals.

As Christianity spread, the Cult of Set declined, even among the undead. By A.D. 1000, the Dark God’s cult was nearly extinct. Tonight, some Khaibit protect the few ancient Kindred who still revere the Dark God, and tend to the cult’s long-hidden subterranean temples. They also protect other ancient sites that the world has forgotten. On rare occasions, they travel in order to recover artifacts of the cult and other potent magical relics. Most of the bloodline, however, abandoned their duty with the Cult of Set’s demise. Remnants of the group joined the Circle of the Crone and brought many other Khaibit with them. Over the centuries, the line became procurers and valets, leg-breakers and guards, a veritable emotional compensation for the higher duties their blood once demanded, but which were lost.

The ancient Egyptians regarded Set as a dangerous, frightening and evil god… but it took a fearsome god to protect the world against yet darker powers. The Sun God could not rise every morning without Set to battle Apep, the primordial serpent-demon of darkness. Set kept the demons in the Netherworld, where they belonged. The “Asps” aided Set’s work. They walked shadowy places where other Kindred feared to go, and made darkness their servant. They fought entities from beyond death and before time began, creatures that would have destroyed Creation or remade it to suit their own malignant desires. Some Khaibit still maintain their ancient duty, watching gates that must remain closed, and hunting the servants of the Eldest Powers. Few of them remain, however. So few to keep the sun rising, a sun they can never see themselves. often prefer their clothes either loose-fitting or carefully tailored to hide protective armor or amulets.

Haven: Khaibit who serve as Retainers do not possess havens of their own. They dwell with their masters. Asps who serve as Creation’s unseen defenders keep their havens well hidden, and often underground. These dwellings tend to be small and bare, since a line member may need to abandon it if it’s compromised. The Khaibit who protect the Cult of Set’s longhidden fanes in Egypt (see below) dwell in cabal temples. These magnificent subterranean complexes include shrines, dormitories for Asps’ mortal servants and vessels, training arenas, libraries of ancient lore, and vaults full of salvaged artifacts of the Cult of Set.

Background: The Khaibit look for potential childer who share their ethos of respect and support. They typically Embrace mortals who already serve a master or some allied Kindred. Tradition holds that a prospective Asp should first honor his sire and his sire’s master as a ghoul, learning the skills needed to serve and protect. Modern Khaibit often forego this requirement, along with the rest of the bloodline’s calling, siring whomever is useful. These rogues are in for a surprise if the bloodline’s past ever catches up with them: Some Khaibit ancient enemies remember the bloodline and still hold a grudge.

The few Asps who carry on the ancient duty of guarding the world from ghosts, demons and worse things were often mortals who fought the supernatural, or who were victimized by it. The Khaibit do not always ask such a prospective childe’s permission before Embracing him. When a neonate is simply taken, a sire spends at least seven years training and indoctrinating the childe.

Character Creation: The majority of line members who serve as mercenaries or agents got other vampires typically offer a forte that’s most useful to a master or employer. A Kindred who seeks a bodyguard and protector typically needs an Asp with primarily Physical traits. Someone who needs an assistant or proxy makes Mental or Social traits a criteria. A character’s relative strengths and weaknesses can therefore suggest the type of role he might play as an agent-for-hire. Appropriate Physical, Mental and Social Merits only further specialize a Khaibit’s appointed role. Expertise in fighting styles, sense for the supernatural or relationships in mortal affairs makes a servant all the more useful in a particular regard.

A Khaibit Embraced to the world’s defenders ultimately seeks as much balance as possible among Attributes and Skills. While Physical Attributes might be primary at character creation, Physical Skills might be tertiary, for example. Such well-rounded capabilities are called for since no supernatural being that threatens to invade the world can be defeated in only one way. It takes all of a defender’s faculties to prevail. If a character is initiated directly into the line shortly after the Embrace, an extra dot of Blood Potency is required.

Organization: Those Asps who still protect the relics of Set’s cult and who hunt monsters form tiny, cult-like, militant coteries that protect torpid members, record their rule, and preserve their traditions through the centuries. Most Khaibit, however, never meet any other Asps other than their own subservient sires and broodmates.

Concepts: Bodyguard, valet, detective, assassin, modern knight, Hound, business manager, vengeful ronin, Lupine-hunter, hospice night manager, personal trainer

History
For most Khaibit, their bloodline lacks any history beyond the personal. A member may learn the background of his sire and sire’s sire, but that’s all. The problem is like that of writing a history of the English monarchy’s butlers. For centuries, no one thought the people or their experiences were worth recording. When Khaibit appear in chronicles and legends of the Damned, they usually do so as the lackeys — loyal, treacherous or victimized — of more famous Circle of the Crone members.

Legendary Origins
The Khaibit emerged from the Mekhet so long ago that history has passed into legend, and few now remember even the legend. Asps who want to hear stories about their bloodline’s origins must seek the most erudite loremasters of the undead, or find one of the tiny, long-isolated Khaibit coteries that still guards a site of mystic power.

What’s more, a dedicated investigator discovers multiple stories, not one. Each legend may contain bits of history, but not even the coteries that claim to preserve the ancient ways can tell which details are fact and which are fancy. Tales of the ancient Khaibit and Cult of Set drip with romance. Even vampires who know they are not the world’s only supernatural denizens cannot believe these legends of gods, ghosts, wizards, were-creatures and otherworlds.

The Cult of Set
Legends cannot assign a beginning to the Cult of Set. Crumbling scrolls and moldering tomes say the Egyptian god Set founded the group himself before history began, making it the first “covenant” of Kindred. These purported histories do not mention any events earlier than Hellenistic times, though, and even those stories may be fabrications. (No one has ever scientifically dated any of these manuscripts, which may be copies made later.)

The most consistent myths say the cult existed to protect the world from perils far worse than vampires. The Damned had to dwell in the world and needed live humans to sustain them. Other creatures did not. The warriors of Set therefore fought evil and powerful ghosts that wanted to drag the living into the world of death. They hunted malignant cults and crazed enchanters who served gods of madness, destruction and oblivion. They battled spirits and monsters from beyond the stars and below the depths of Hell. Things so foul and alien that their very presence warped and eroded reality.

The cult’s greatest strength lay in its homeland of Egypt. After Rome conquered Egypt, the cult spread throughout the Mediterranean world and the Middle East. The scrolls and inscriptions in the cult’s long-lost temples say that Set’s paladins of the night saved the world (or at least provinces) many times.

Entertaining stories, if one can believe any Kindred could act so selflessly.

Dark Power
The lost myths of the Khaibit ascribe the bloodline’s genesis to contact with various spiritual or magical forces. The simplest story merely says the god Set gave the lineage’s first members their command over shadow. He supposedly gave that gift so the Khaibit could penetrate the deepest darkness, even unto the deathly realms where light could not shine, and to fight creatures that were shadows themselves.

Another story ties the line’s Obtenebration power to the blood of a god. In this romantic myth, a mortal coven summoned Seker, the god who ruled the deepest region of Duat, the Egyptian underworld. Seker sought to bring all Egypt into his realm. Three cunning and mighty Mekhet warriors forced the death-god to return to Duat. They tasted the god’s spilled blood, conferring upon them a measure of dark, divine power.

A variation on the same story says a Mekhet warrior fought an enchanter who served Seker. The sorcerer called on Seker’s darkness to destroy the Mekhet. As shadows curdled around the vampire, however, he seized the enchanter and sank his fangs into the mortal. When the shadows dispersed, the enchanter was gone and the Mekhet’s blood had changed.

A quite different story says the Khaibit began with the efforts of a great Mekhet sorceress. This blood-witch conjured water from the River of Death that flowed through Duat. She chose the three greatest mortal warriors who served the Cult of Set and gave them the water to drink along with their Embrace. The Water of Death changed the childers’ Vitae, making them the first Asps.

Other myths present minor variations on these stories. Sometimes three Mekhet become the first line members (or sometimes seven, or only one). Instead of Seker’s divine blood, supernatural identity comes from feeding on a demon, a ghost or a Nameless Thing. Instead of an undead sorcerer, a mortal mage enchants the founder and changes his blood. Instead of the power coming as Set’s gift, the nascent Khaibit steal the secret of Obtenebration from Seker or learn it from Thoth, the god of magic. After more than 2,000 years, the truth probably doesn’t matter.

Segue to Servants
Legends about the Cult of Set describe a number of conflicts with ancient covenants. The Camarilla is now the best known of these elder groups. The cult did not disappear because of war with another sect, however. The Egyptian gods simply went out of fashion. By A.D. 200, Egypt was firmly Christian. By 400, Christianity was the official faith of the Roman Empire. Never mind finding childer who still worshipped the Egyptian gods. The Cult of Set had increasing difficulty finding recruits who could treat Set as anything but a fable from pagan times.

The Cult of Set was never officially destroyed. It simply withered away. Remaining members joined the Camarilla (assuming that elder covenant was not mythical itself). From the Camarilla, the cult’s mystical secrets passed to the nascent Circle of the Crone.

Like the cult, its enemies seem to have declined as well. Perhaps the ghosts, demons and nameless horrors found it more difficult to invade the material world. Perhaps their depredations simply weren’t recorded in the chaos and ignorance that followed Rome’s decline and collapse. Whatever the truth of the matter, the fading sect ceased to chronicle epic battles against its otherworldly foes.The Khaibit followed other Cult of Set members into the Circle of the Crone. And yet that group bestowed its greatest honor unto blood magicians, not warriors. The Khaibit continued to fight enemies of the old cult, such as Lupines and hostile vampires, but they fought at the blood-sorcerers’ command. Gradually, the bloodline shifted from a lineage of shadow warriors to a lineage of bodyguards and minions. Khaibit seldom appear as the protagonists of Circle history or legends. As magic slipped from the world and the covenants established their new balance of power, the bloodline’s martial prowess became steadily less important. Now, even the warriors’ tradition of service is a quaint anachronism. Nobody really needs the Khaibit anymore.

At least, they won’t until the gates to the Other open again, and the spectral enemies return.

Society and Culture
At least half of all Khaibit serve other Kindred. As far as other Damned are concerned, their servants are a bloodline of just that. The Khaibit receive some respect for their capabilities, especially those who are masters of Obtenebration who can take the form of a shadow. Many Kindred would be astonished to learn that the Asps once defended the world from unholy forces. Most Kindred wouldn’t care, though. What could an ancient fight against ghosts and demons matter now?

An Unlife of Service
Even if a Khaibit chooses not to follow his line’s tradition of service, many do. The lineage’s historic role influences who becomes a Khaibit, why, and how other Kindred treat members.

Retainers and Retainees
A Khaibit character might serve another
vampire, or even another player’s character.
Playing a Retainer deserves special discussion.
As a supernatural creature, a Khaibit is a five-
dot Retainer. If the Khaibit’s master is a Storyteller-
controlled character, this cost doesn’t matter
much. Supporting cast members have as many dots
to spend as the Storyteller wants. Of more
practical importance, the Khaibit player must buy
the character’s employer as a Mentor. As usual,
the master’s value as a Merit depends on her
power and willingness to help the character. A
Circle Hierophant who treats the servant as a
valued agent costs five dots. The Hierophant’s
spoiled childe who treats her Khaibit bodyguard
as a slave costs only one.
What if a Khaibit’s master is another player’s
character? In this case, the players themselves
work out the relationship, and the Storyteller
decides how to represent it in terms of Retainer
and Mentor. If the players decide their characters
are master and servant in name only, and actually
treat each other as equals, neither needs to buy a
Merit. If the master intends to exercise real
authority over the Khaibit, and the servant feels
some obligation to obey, players must buy suitable
Merits for their characters.

Employers
Most Khaibit work for prestigious and powerful members of the Circle of the Crone. In some cities, a Khaibit majordomo is a badge of honor for an Acolyte. In such cities, some Kindred may retain at least a subconscious awareness of the bloodline’s ancient purpose. Master magicians know that when a Crúac experiment goes wrong, it’s good to have a Khaibit on hand to deal with whatever arrives in response. A few practitioners of Theban Sorcery or other blood magic seek Asps as well. The desire to co-opt anything the competition values brings Khaibit into the Lancea Sanctum and Ordo Dracul, not to mention among the Unaligned.

Some Invictus elders (and those of other covenants to a lesser degree) also seek Khaibit servants. These employ-ers don’t care about blood magic, but they like the idea of a servant as eternal as themselves. Not many Kindred ever accept an eternal unlife of servitude; the Khaibit offer it as their raison d’être. One could always keep a few ghoul retainers, of course, but some elders prefer a servant who doesn’t crumble to dust if you forget to feed him personally and on schedule. A ghoul’s emotional dependence on his regnant also irritates some elders who prefer a cool, professional relationship with an agent.

A Khaibit’s employer is not necessarily some moldering elder who tries to uphold the customs of centuries past. Some sires believe their childer deserve perpetual lackeys of their own. The vampire sires a childe, and the elder orders her Khaibit minion to sire one as well. On rare occasions, parallel lineages of Khaibit and members of another clan may be traced back for generations.

Most often, a vampire simply hires a Khaibit. Once upon a time, Asps swore oaths to serve their masters. Sometimes an Asp had to accept a blood bond to seal the contract. Very few Princes enforce this tradition anymore (or even know about it). If no Khaibit look for work, a vampire might strike a deal with an Asp’s master. In return for some boon, the master orders his servant to sire and train a childe. Of course, a vampire can also approach a Khaibit and simply try to lure him away from his current master.

In some cities, a Khaibit servant comes as part of an office. A leading Acolyte may receive a Khaibit servant along with his appointment as Hierophant. Primogen or Prisci may receive a Khaibit’s service as well. This happens most often among the Mekhet, but can occur for leaders of other clans, too.

Making of a Khaibit
A century ago, Khaibit had no problem finding prospective childer. A sizeable portion of the kine population still lived as some kind of servant, especially in Europe. Mortals would not rebel against the notion of serving one master forever. Now, matters are very different. Even a professional butler or live-in valet thinks of himself as a contractor, not a retainer. He provides a service, not servility.

Some employers and Khaibit sires accept this change in social attitude. They seek childer among mortals who possess valued talents: professional bodyguards or security guards, secretaries or business managers. Other Asps look for prospects with an emotional need to serve. Nurses, people who have spent years caring for sickly relatives, employees at non-profit and charitable organizations, and all sorts of volunteer workers attract their attention. Quite often, a would-be sire finds a childe among immigrants from the Third World. A Guatemalan au pair or Nigerian waiter may lack the talents to assist a blood magician or to defend a Primogen, but he or she is willing to serve. Knowledge can come later, and the Damned have plenty of time for training.

Sometimes a sire tells a prospective childe she has a job offer with unusual opportunities. Only later does the mortal learn that her “job” requires the Embrace. Other times, a sire merely Embraces a mortal, tells her she can’t go back to her old life, and gives her a choice between service and destruction. (Such childer quite understandably show little loyalty to their sires or masters.) Some Asps prefer to blood bond a mortal and train her for several years before delivering the Embrace. When a would-be master contracts for a Khaibit childe, the master may blood bond and train the mortal instead. An Asp sire supplies the Embrace, but may have no other contact with his own childe.

Duties
A Khaibit’s master defines the extent of his agent’s duties. Common roles include:

• Assistant: Khaibit who serve a blood magician often learn something about their master’s dark arts, so they can prepare materials and contribute to rituals. (Such an assistant is traditionally called a famulus.) Just as important, a good assistant knows when not to intrude on a mystic rite.
• Bodyguard: An Asp is often expected to protect his master from her enemies, whether they be mortal witch-hunters, marauding werewolves or rival vampires.
• Crime: In addition to defending his master, an Asp might attack his master’s enemies. Experienced Khaibit become very good at slipping into a location, administering violence and slipping out again. An agent’s master may also send him to spy on mortals or Kindred opponents, or to steal items needed for rituals (or just items the master wants). Requesting (or demanding) such tasks requires a certain degree of loyalty in a servant, of course.
• General Factotum: An elder might spend time scheming against rivals and not worry about the trivialities of her Requiem, while a blood magician might not want to take time from research to manage his household or connections to the mortal world. A Khaibit Retainer might serve as secretary, chief of staff overseeing mortal servants, or business manager, in addition to any other duties.
• Hunter: A blood magician trying to devise a new ritual doesn’t want to waste time seeking sustenance. Instead, she can send her servant to bring her a vessel. Afterward, the agent can make sure the mortal doesn’t know what happened — or if it comes to it, dispose of the body.

All in all, a Khaibit servant can find his unlife as exciting and unpredictable as any other vampire’s. One night, he delivers a bribe to a city councilman. The next, he sneaks into the Primogen council as a shadowy spy. The night after that, he defends his master against an out-of-control demon. On top of this, a modern Khaibit can also find whatever personal interests and entanglements he chooses… or that choose him.

Terms of Service
Modern Khaibit expect something in return for an unlife of dedication. Many receive a straightforward salary. Like mortal cooks and housekeepers, line members often demand and receive regular nights off duty. A Khaibit (or any similar Kindred Retainer) receives a traditional privilege to hunt in his master’s territory, or to feed from her herd. He may also dwell in his master’s haven. In fact, that’s usually part of his duties.

Princes often extend a limited immunity to Khaibit or other Kindred Retainers. If a Khaibit commits an offense against other undead at his master’s behest, the master bears the responsibility. Of course, that assumes anyone can prove the master gave the order… or that the master is not too powerful or too valued an ally to make prosecution a solution. A Khaibit who becomes the fall guy for his master, and other Kindred know the truth, may suffer lighter punishment than another vampire would (at least in some cities). Such dispensation of a servant usually ends the Khaibit’s service, though, unless the master has some other hold on his Retainer, such as a Vinculum or a threat to mortal loved ones. Unfortunately, some elders don’t realize that modern servants are not willing to fall on their swords for their masters’ sake. Modern Khaibit can strike back at treacherous employers and teach other Kindred to fear the shadows.

Shadow Warriors
A fraction of the Khaibit bloodline does not serve other Kindred or operate as “Mekhet with shadow powers.” These few secretly preserve the bloodline’s ancient duty as the world’s guardians. Some of these Asps tend the last, long-hidden shrines to Set, or guard weak points in reality where Things From Beyond can break through.

Most of the Cult of Set’s so-called fanes are located in Egypt, but a few secret shrines survive in Europe, the Middle East and North Africa. These temples hold the cult’s records, written on papyrus and parchment scrolls, or inscribed on the walls in classic Egyptian fashion. Anyone who finds one of these shrines learns a great deal about the Kindred of the ancient world. How much of what they learn is true is open to conjecture. Members of the Cult of Set were just as likely as any modern Kindred to misremember the past after a long torpor, and to rewrite history to serve their own interests.

More importantly, fanes are treasure-troves of elder magic. The Cult of Set practiced a form of Crúac based on Egyptian ritual magic, concentrating on the use of wax or clay images, hieroglyphic inscriptions, blood offerings, and invocations to Egyptian gods. Any vampire who could retrieve such ancient lore would win great fame in the Circle of the Crone and the Ordo Dracul. (The Sanctified might seek to destroy this “pagan” sorcery, though you never know. Power is power.) The shrines also hold items that ancient cultists re- garded as magical. Perhaps some of them still retain their power. Exorcistic sand from the deserts of Duat, blades enchanted to kill spirits, amulets to protect against possession, Dominate or fire — it’s anyone’s guess what wonders a fane might hide.

A few other Khaibit keep watch over places where ghosts, demons and stranger things once erupted into the world, and where they might break through again. Sometimes mages in search of knowledge or power deliberately open gates to realms beyond. Khaibit guards make sure no one else foolishly dares these portals, and watch for dark things that slip through. Every century, one or two Khaibit discover their historic role and accept their duty. If they among the undead don’t protect the world, who will?

Typically, a small group of Khaibit (or other vam- pires descended from Cult of Set members) guards each post. Some members lie in torpor while others remain active. If a member suffers Final Death, the others look for a mortal they can Embrace and train to join them. When a shrine or breach-point is far from a major city, the Khaibit might assemble a blood cult of mortals to serve as their herd and additional guards. Some of these little cults have persisted for centuries.

Guardian-coteries don’t usually know about each other. Each believes its members are the last to keep the old ways. They have simply lost track of each other over the ages. At most, a coterie might know of one other guard post, thanks to sending mortal allies in search of other lost shrines or breaches.

On very rare occasions, Khaibit risk their unlives in quests to retrieve mystic artifacts or to stop spiritual invasions. These Asps seek relics of the Cult of Set for practical and cultural reasons. A ceremonial rod from the old cult might bear some useful enchantment. It might also set mortal archeologists to asking dangerous questions. No Kindred wants the kine learning about ancient cults supposedly led by vampires. Rumors of curses or hauntings may also lead an Asp to seek items or places where outsiders invade the world. If a Khaibit finds such an object or place, he cleanses it or takes it back to his shrine for safekeeping. Discovering a new portal in the world may prompt an Asp to stay and sire a new brood of guards.

Discovering Heritage
Any vampire might serve as another Kindred’s Retainer. The Khaibit stand out because of their secret heritage. You can play a Khaibit without ever bringing in that demon-hunting background, but that background is what makes an Asp more than just a vampire with shadow powers.

Most players know a lot more about the World of Darkness than their characters do. The Khaibit just push that distinction a little further. Part of the fun of playing an Asp lies in discovering the character’s heritage as a shadow-warrior. You and the Storyteller may conspire to build a story arc around the discovery, and how your Asp responds to the knowledge that she has a rare power to fight spiritual foes. Does she accept her power and destiny? Does she try to avoid her duty? How do other Kindred — especially a Khaibit’s master — react when they learn the truth?

Threat Revealed
If a Storyteller wants to incorporate Khaibit heritage into her chronicle, she needs to establish a danger that Asps are uniquely qualified to fight. Perhaps Kindred come under attack by incorporeal spirits. Maybe vengeful ghosts possess a coterie that lairs in an old mausoleum. A bungled (or successful…) experiment in blood magic could release shadow-creatures that feed on vampires the way vampires feed on mortals. Workers digging the foundations for a new skyscraper could break open a long-sealed and buried portal to a nether-realm. There’s no shortage of possibilities.

Next, a Khaibit needs some reason to believe he can do something about such a problem. The easiest way is to have some knowledgeable Kindred say so. Very few vampires know Khaibit ancient history. What luck that one of them dwells in the city! Or a Khaibit from a guard-post coterie might arrive and ask the character to help deal with a problem.

For a less blatant approach, an Asp character might receive clues when he uses Obtenebration. He could see a spirit while using Night Sight in total darkness and realize that he can see things that other vampires can’t. Maybe those invisible, incorporeal creatures have some connection to the strange events that so frighten the Kindred community? A Khaibit who has mastered Shadow Form can even touch spirits. An Asp conducting an errand in shadow form might encounter a ghost or demon by chance, suffer an attack, and discover that he can fight an enemy whom no one else can see or strike.

Or a spiritual foe might seek out a Khaibit. Kindred have forgotten the Asps’ role in expelling evil spirits from the world, but otherworldly beings have not. The Khaibit is the antagonist’s first target, which gives any “sensibly” paranoid vampire a clue that someone considers him a special threat. But why?

In Search of Lost Secrets
Once a Khaibit realizes Obtenebration makes her unusually qualified to deal with spirit foes, what does she do about it? She may try to avoid the situation, of course. Once other Kindred learn of her power, that probably ceases to be an option. Vampires want protection against the invisible, intangible menace, and put pressure on the Asp to defend them. Whether the character selflessly accepts or extorts every concession she can is her choice.

The Khaibit quickly realizes that she needs to know more. What is the enemy? How can she fight it most effectively? Have other Khaibit done this before? Is the ancient connection between the line and the Circle of the Crone mere coincidence? Does Obtenebration offer greater powers that are perfectly suited to fighting spirits?

When a character learns everything local vampires know about the lineage’s past (which is not much), she can seek information elsewhere. Local Acolytes can contact savants in other cities. The Asp can offer favors in return for information, or even ask for a letter of introduction so she can ask questions in person. A coterie may travel more safely than a lone vampire, so all characters can embark on a thrilling journey and see how the Kindred govern themselves in another city.

Then again, a character might tap non-vampiric sources of information. Masters of Crúac or Theban Sorcery might be able to summon oracular spirits to answer questions. Naturally, such covenant members demand favors in return, which can hook an Asp and her coterie into further stories.

Ultimately, a line member might find a long-hidden, guard-post coterie and discover her “deathright.” If players want to make Khaibit heritage a major story arc, the coterie might travel all the way to Egypt. (Perhaps with the help of a Rakshasa smuggler? See that bloodline’s description.) This would be a quest worthy of an ancient Khaibit champion.

Dark Heroes
A Khaibit who battles for the sake of the world receives no gratitude from mortals (they can never know a fight took place), and very little from her fellow Kindred. Some vampires surely try to exploit a spiritual threat for their own ends. Never mind the danger to the world, as long as they can use the crisis to discredit their rivals! Such Kindred might oppose a would-be shadow warrior, because they don’t want the danger to end on any terms but their own. Other vampires could simply loathe the thought of a servant gaining such power and influence. Still others try to make a Khaibit their own servant, so they can extort favors from other Kindred. In the end, saving the world from nether horrors may be easier than finding a reason to save it at all.

In the darkest moments of the night, when the halls and corridors of hospitals have fallen quiet, monsters come out. Creeping from their dark holes and hiding places, they assail the old, infirm and mentally ill. While liver-spotted hands are tangled in IV tubes and mad eyes roll like those of panicked cattle, bodies restrained by straps and masks, these victims are abused again and again, their very lives made forfeit. Worse still is when survivors babble their stories through tears and lips flecked with spittle, and their caretakers laugh at them, mock them or slap them until they fall silent. Sometimes, however, caretaker and dependant look into each other’s eyes and see that the same fear haunts them both.

The perpetrators of these horrid abuses are the Morotrophians, leaches who prey upon the lost, desperate and mad during victims’ greatest weakness. For hundreds of years, the bloodline has focused its attention on dominating enclosed institutions where captive and voiceless populations are turned into a constant, constrained and inconsequential buffet for their wicked appetites. Even other Kindred are repulsed by the “Monks’” habits, though such revulsion is not enough to preclude them from retaining the offenders’ services. The liberty to access an imprisoned vessel for weeks on end is a profane joy that few Kindred have experienced in centuries, and the Morotrophians can offer such delight on a nightly basis.

Contrary to perception, not all Morotrophians haunt the sterile halls of mental institutions and retirement homes. Though such havens do make for a majority of the bloodline’s domains, members’ focus is wider. The Monks slip through the cracks and hide in the shadows of any enclosed, controlled facility. In medieval nights, the then “Abbots” preyed on monks or nuns trapped behind monastery or convent walls. Some still follow that tradition, though in modern nights they’re more likely to lurk in the gloom of cult houses where mortal pawns use charisma and religion to bind kine with dependence and the need for acceptance. Others dip their withered fingers in the pies of orphanages and rehab clinics, and a few have even managed to infiltrate prisons (though the last are dangerous places for any Kindred, given tight government control and constant surveillance). Any place in which there is a restricted, contained and mostly voiceless population is prime territory for members of this lineage.

And yet, in the modern nights, Morotrophians face a new challenge as the Malkovian bloodline spreads into one of their traditional seats of power — the mental asylum. The few Kindred who know of both lineages think of them in much the same way (or as one!), but the truth is the two could not be more different.

Where the Malkovians are mad, the lunatics running the asylum, the Morotrophians are stone-cold sane. They use the madness and dependency of others and hold Malkovians in contempt. While it may come back to haunt them, the Morotrophians are certain that it will be they, not the Lunatics, who will rule the roost.

Covenant: The majority of Morotrophians are members of the Invictus, as that group’s insularity and respect for rank and position suits the Monks’ institutionalized mentality. The normal lack of advancement that troubles young Invictus neonates strikes the Morotrophians less severely. They expect to have to earn their place with years of work, and need the security of belonging to a group more than they need immediate opportunity for progression.

The Lancea Sanctum numbers the second most Monks, as the old religious ties of the bloodline have not faded completely. Those Abbots who still fraternize with cults and secluded religious institutions often join with the Sanctified, seeing themselves as brothers in monstrosity. Not all in the Lancea Sanctum share this bond, however, as some orthodox view Morotrophians as particularly noxious abusers of faith. Some Monks have overcome this stigma by assuming the role of “invisible angel,” punishing the wicked on their hunting grounds and bringing death to those in pain. These angels consider themselves to do God’s work, and gain respect for it.

The Morotrophians have a minor presence in the other covenants. There are a few powerful if not respected Abbots in the Ordo Dracul. These Monks bitterly resent their weaknesses and limitations, and strive to overcome them. In doing so they often attain great mystical understanding, but their reliance on human weakness offends many members of the Order, and attempts to escape the bloodline’s history insults brethren. The Carthians tend to be too idealistic and egalitarian for the manipulative and cloistered Morotrophians, though a few reformers whose ideals outweigh their vested interests occasionally join up. The Circle of the Crone includes almost no Morotrophians. The wild, mercurial nature of the Crone is at odds with the conservative, siege mentality of most Abbots. Occasionally, a line member whose influence over a particular institution has brought down condemnation has decided to spend his Requiem alone and unaffiliated, to enjoy his self-proclaimed haven and hunting grounds for himself.

Appearance: Unlike some of their Nosferatu kin, Monks are rarely outright monstrous in appearance. The mark of the Blood is more subtle than that, and perhaps more damaging in the long run. Every Morotrophian has a look about her that most people instinctively associate with a doctor who does lots of unnecessary surgery. It’s a look that combines certain aspects of inbreeding and dead fish — bulging eyes, sallow skin and long, thin fingers that twitch and fidget. Thinning hair, balding pates and over-pronounced, bobbing Adam’s apples are also common.

Monks tend to dress according to their assumed roles, donning costumes that suit their surroundings. An Abbot in a mental hospital, for example, may dress like a nurse or staff member, in a rumpled suit and a (stolen) clip-on nametag. It’s uncommon for a Morotrophian to attempt to appear to be upper management or part of an institution elite. They attempt to blend into the undifferentiated middle ranks, posing as mid-level staff, interns or guards. Some find practicality better than pride and dress the part of the lowest level of employee — janitor, orderly or something similarly faceless that allows them to be anywhere they need to be. Very few Monks assume the roles of inmates; doing so would make them victims, not predators. Those who pose as prey are viewed with a mixture of contempt and horror by their brethren.

Haven: Morotrophians tend to make havens in the bowels of their pet institutions, or in nearby, accessible areas. The most common locations are mental institutions, old folks’ homes, cult houses, monasteries and occasionally prisons or prison-supply houses.

Elder Morotrophians often have secret chambers, hidden in the maze of halls and access corridors of a large institution, constructed during the building or renovation of the place. Some of these hidey-holes are hundreds of years old and are taken for granted as part of a building. No one has any idea that they’re there, they overlook them in plain sight, or they don’t consider what such places are for.

Young Abbots and those who have to infiltrate a foundation do not usually have this luxury, so have to work to maintain their security. They typically chose places deep in the heart of a compound, in cellars and access corridors, where there’s no chance of accidental exposure to sunlight. These areas are then guarded and warded through a mixture of ghoul servants, influence over mortal inmates, and judicious use of the Institutionalize, Nightmare and Obfuscate Disciplines. Given enough time, even a young Morotrophian can make a small area in a secluded corner into a place where no one goes and no one discusses. (This last represented by a Haven with considerable dots in Location and Security, but typically few in Size.) Most Monks are obsessively attached to their havens. The sites are difficult to set up (finding a secure resting place in the midst of a human institution is no small task) and take time to secure and control. There are tales of Morotrophians whose monasteries were closed a hundred years past, yet they still haunt the ruins, slowly starving and giving in to the Beast. Woe betide the Kindred who attempts to unseat a Morotrophian from his home.

Background: Elder line members were often religious heretics, monks or nuns in their mortal days. These Abbots are the source of the line’s old nickname. Many still have a medieval bias to their worldview, and they influence whatever institution they haunt to be run like a monastery, with strict observance and routine that turns obsession into dogma. It’s not unknown for such elders to regulate how many times a day those under their power may blink, going to extremes such as taping eyes open to control the “willfully disobedient.”

Young Morotrophians tend to be chosen from among psychiatrists, psychologists, health-care workers, prison guards and orderlies. Humans who have a personal understanding of institutionalization and the closet society of compounds tend to do best as Monks, and already have access to the resources they will need as members of the line. Combined with the obsessive and controlling nature of lineage elders, these backgrounds lead to young Monks being just as fanatical as their progenitors, simply with a different focus. Where elders may concentrate on isolation and flagellation, young line members use drugs and psychological torture. The results are generally the same, but neonates and ancillae have an easier time passing unnoticed in modern, secular nights.

New inheritors of the line’s blood are also important to elders. The more Morotrophians who are spread through institutions, the greater their collective ability to influence the mortal organizations that control such institutions. Where a single Morotrophian working alone has trouble swaying the kine in charge of an institution, especially if the outside world interferes, a group of line members can collectively blackmail, coerce and intimidate on a wider level. For example, many of the standards and praxis for mental institutions are decided by panels that dictate terms to all locations. A single Morotrophian might be able to coerce only a few mortals on such a panel, but a brood spread through several dozen major foundations may be able to intimidate and Institutionalize a majority of the board. Mortals who already have such influence over councils and administrations thus make ideal candidates for the Embrace.

Character Creation: Morotrophians who lurk within mental institutions and old folks’ homes are an intelligent lot, used to getting their way by force of mind. Their focus on psychiatry and psychology (or at least on passable sounding quackeries of such) leads to a focus on Mental Attributes and Skills, with Academics, Medicine and Politics being common. Those who still infiltrate cults and cloistered religious communities tend to rely on Social Attributes and Skills, despite the fact that they do not come naturally. Empathy, Intimidation and Subterfuge are likely. Such Monks focus on understanding and exploiting the social weakness of others. Line members’ own weaknesses are obvious enough, so they spend a great deal of energy making sure everyone else’s are as well.

Almost all Monks have some level of Contacts and/or Status to represent their ability to infiltrate and manipulate private, enclosed institutions. Herd represents their victims in those places. Abbots who live on facility grounds need sufficient Haven to cover their security, and many have dots of Retainer to represent a ghoul guard or assistant.

Finally, any character who starts play as an Abbot needs a second dot of Blood Potency to be able to join the bloodline. Without it, a character is not given aid in finding her own institution. Nor is she allowed to shelter with her sire. The Morotrophians take care of their own, despising wayward children who don’t shore up the foundations of the system.

Organization: Morotrophians are insular and don’t deal with each other on a nightly basis. Occasionally two Monks share domain over an institution of considerable size, such as a state mental institution that deals with 20,000 cases a year, but this is the exception rather than the rule. Most Morotrophians are obsessed with being lord of the manor and have no desire to allow anyone to compete for their power (much less someone with the same powers and capabilities). When a Monk decides to create progeny, he typically does so by creating a ghoul and seeing how well his servant takes to the ways of the line. The ghoul is taught the ways of Monks, and her ability to survive and thrive under the difficult conditions of an institution are tested. Needless to say, if this indoctrination was discovered by other Kindred it could lead to a blood hunt as a Masquerade breach, but Morotrophians are quiet and careful. If a ghoul ever slips up, she’s destroyed. If she proves her worth, she’s Embraced and sent off to find her own institution. Most sires do a thorough job of setting up a childe, with even the stingiest calling in of favors and using Disciplines to start a neonate off right. Once the setup is complete, however, the childe must stand on her own. The exception is if the childe does not join the bloodline, in which case she is disinherited and never receives any help from the lineage unless she repents and returns to the fold.

Beyond the sire-childe bond, Monks who infiltrate similar institutions maintain a network of correspondence and alliance that they use to manipulate the systems that organize and control their realms. Members who lurk in mental institutions, for example, conspire to intimidate and corrupt groups such as the National Medical Accreditation Committee and State Departments of Mental Health. This cooperation is largely ad-hoc and a matter of common sense. If mortals allegedly in control of such institutions actually bothered to work at controlling them, the Monks would be in very grave danger in very short order.

Favors done outside the shared system (say, a Monk who resides at a prison arranging to have a patient transferred to another Monk’s asylum) are recorded meticulously, and debts owed are one of the few really binding forms of social interaction that occurs between Morotrophians. Every Monk in an area of control knows who owes what level of favor to every other member in and out of that field (old folks’ homes, for example). Anyone who bilks on a debt finds himself out in the cold. Repeat offenders may even be chastised by suffering a government-agency or news-crew investigation of their fief, possibly resulting in the Abbot having to flee his haven for a period.

Concepts: Cruel psychologist, doctor who performs unnecessary surgery, abusive orderly, prison guard, power behind a charismatic cult leader, lurker in the basement, orphanage director, trauma counselor, the thing that watches without being seen, death-row haunt

History
In early 16th century Northern Italy, a young German monk named Ludoldus Bischoffshausen, who was helping to run the pazzarella in Rome, was Embracedby a Nosferatu. Who this mysterious sire was has never been determined, even though many Abbots have spent years researching the subject. What is known is that his childe soon discovered that he had a crippling weakness. He was unable to leave the walls of the pazzarella or his monastery without suffering crippling bouts of nausea and panic. After a breach of the Masquerade that nearly sent Ludoldus to the flames, he fled to France, where he coerced and bound an old friend into giving him refuge.

Ludoldus found that the youths of his new abbey, young and cut off from the world, made a perfect source of sustenance. Shame, fear, force and isolation silenced them about his nocturnal visits. Within a year, Ludoldus had turned his old friend into a personal ghoul, and ruled the roost from behind one abbot or prioress after another.

Eventually Ludoldus created childer, an act born of loneliness and despair. It quickly became obvious, however, that he could not live under the same roof with his progeny. While the feeding of one vampire could be hidden behind closed doors, the feeding of more could not. So he used the influence he had gained to allow his childer to infiltrate abbeys and monasteries of their own. Over the course of a century, perhaps a half-dozen sacred houses were so corrupted, with greater and lesser degrees of success and control. Ludoldus’ brood seemed to established a solid power base.

Members of the line have different explanations for what happened next. Elders say that events were a punishment meted out by God. While Ludoldus always fed in the walls of sacred houses, he took sustenance only from those who sinned. He would watch from the shadows and come forth to punish those who partook of lust, gluttony or pride. (It was believed that for this scourging, God allowed the vampire a place in His home.) Ludoldus’ childer were not so pious, however, and took without caring about acts committed, turning innocents and sinners alike into vessels. In His anger, it is said that God swept His Inquisitorial hand to smite them and teach the brood humility.

Young, secular members of the lineage say the purge was a simple matter of too many institutions with too little influence over space and occupants. It was inevitable that the unscientific methods of control used would fail, especially in an atmosphere of paranoia and hatred.

Whichever interpretation of events is correct, the Inquisition recognized that something was foul in the abbeys of Aix-en-Provence and Bamberg. In the midst of witch and heretic trials, signs of “Devil’s marks” left by the Monks’ feeding blazed a trail that could not be escaped. Half the bloodline was wiped out in a decade, some surviving only by forcing ghouls and patsies to confess for them. (Some Abbots’ control of Institutionalization had grown to a point that dupes feared removal from their own prisons more so than death.)

The Inquisition may have been the end of the bloodline if not for the actions of Ignace Loix, one of Ludoldus’ youngest childer. Following a witch trial in which a doctor convinced the court that the accused was innocent, that it was insanity and not possession that led to the accusations made, Loix attached himself to the doctor and followed him to the growing mental asylums of France’s Great Confinement. There, the vampire recognized thousands of vessels, often chained to beds and unable to move, all of whom were known to be mad and who thus had no voice. It was, in short, a perfect feeding ground for the bloodline, where the terrified tales of madmen would bring only silencing beatings rather than Inquisitorial torches.

Over the next hundred years, the lineage spread throughout mental asylums, finding shelter and protection as confinement and punishment of the mad gained momentum. Though the Great Confinement ended, the asylum as an institution prevailed, and the insane remained victims. It was during this period that the Discipline of Institutionalization saw full flourish. Under its auspice, members of the lineage spread to other foundations: prisons, “homes” for embarrassing members of upper-class families, and the charismatic cults that grew up around the Great Awakening.

By the 18th century, the Morotrophians had spread throughout Europe and achieved a strong hold in America. It was in the New World that the next evolution came, as mental institutions were increasingly used to house the elderly who could no longer take care of themselves. Monks found that the aged made nearly as ideal victims as madmen. For almost two centuries, the Morotrophians were unchallenged and comfortable, lurking in the dark places of vast asylums.

The greatest blow since the Inquisition was dealt to them as late as the 1960s, when a new movement for deinstitutionalization of mental patients swept the United States and parts of Europe. Vast state hospitals were closed down or nearly emptied. The number of patients under state care dropped from 500,000 to 100,000 in less than a decade. Many Morotrophians elders were unable to adjust to the decline and were forced into torpor as their Vitae supplies were reduced to a trickle.

Young members of the bloodline adapted quite handily, though, assuming positions that elders’ failure had opened. Morotrophians simply moved from state-controlled hospitals to privately run and funded shelters, taking their place in the cottage industry of care that arose. Many even found the new arrangement to be superior to the old. Though their havens held fewer victims, there was less governmental control and regulation at work, giving the predators greater freedom and power than ever before.

The latest trend — eagerly adopted by the youngest members of the line and feared by the eldest — is Monk influence of deprogramming and rehabilitation clinics. Lax laws in many jurisdictions allow the manipulators to virtually kidnap victims off the streets and hold them long enough to feed at will. With sway over psychiatrists and lawyers, it’s fairly easy for a modern line member to arrange forced hospitalization of victims for reasons of “danger to self or society.” Some Monks have even made a nocturnal business of it, offering specific victims or types of victims to other vampires with special feeding requirements or jaded pallets. Line elders fear such open manipulation. Rising court cases and public attention reminds them of the scrutiny that preceded the Inquisition.

Society and Culture
After Ludoldus went into torpor in the late 1970s, there has been no current leader of the Monks. Ignace Loix is the most influential member still active, but his power is limited to line members who work with mental hospitals, and mostly only in America and France. While that covers a large portion of the lineage, members outside that group are vocal and independent. Indeed, even Abbots under Loix’s patronage consider him more a figure to be respected in a distant way than a power player to be obeyed. Tom West, the infamous Prince of Bedlam, is the most important British Abbot and is only slightly under Loix in stature thanks to the massive number of favors his “generosity” has accrued over the past five decades.

In general, Monks are not overly concerned with patronage within the bloodline. (Favors owed is their greatest commodity.) Each member is a solitary power, lurking in a cage. Except when dealing with mortal oversight groups, a Monk has little reason or interest in working with others. Members do worry about their status with the Nosferatu overall, as their cousins can often get favors or information not available behind sheltering walls. For that reason, it is not uncommon for a Monk to have a closer (or bitter) relationship with local Nosferatu than with his own bloodline. Abbots often trade other members of the clan shelter, access to Vitae, and a place where Haunts need not feel like freaks or outcasts in exchange for information or services outside a compound. This exchange is often rewarding for both sides. Abbots can be other Nosferatu’s only source of strength and civilization, while Haunts are Abbots’ main line to the outside world.

A Monk seldom steps out of her shelter to play a part in city or covenant politics. If it happens, it’s a result of another vampire intruding on the Monk’s territory, a threat that makes any Morotrophian take extreme measures. He uses all his power and connections with the Nosferatu to force the intruder to back down. The normally retiring Monks can even be driven to physical violence and murder by such invasions, so few Kindred are willing to cross them that way. A few Monks have also found that the undead society of many cities, especially Invictus cities, are incestuous and cliquish enough for the Institutionalize Discipline to function on local Kindred. In such cities, an Abbot may become a political player, parlaying reliable access to blood and the ability to make problems vanish by having mortals committed or imprisoned.

The Nahualli is a relatively recent bloodline, barely more than a century old. The lineage was founded near the end of the 19th century in Mexico, by a Ventrue of Spanish descent named Vinicio Peralta de Mosquera. Taking inspiration from certain aspects of Aztec religion, de Mosquera came to the conclusion that a Kindred was in effect a dual being, a dark soul and a light soul, sharing a single body. The Beast was one aspect of this nature, and the conscience remaining from before the Embrace was the other. Only through the acceptance of both could a Kindred attain a perfect existence.

Tonight, the Nahualli have splintered into two factions, each led at least nominally by de Mosquera’s two childer, Roca and Bellido. Roca’s followers pursue the founder’s teachings under the guise of religion, while Bellido’s group takes a more studied, almost clinical approach.

In keeping with de Mosquera’s dictates, those of his lineage usually appear cultured, even genteel. They not only invite the Beast’s urgings freely, however, they practice ritual murders that chill the Vitae of even the most jaded Kindred. The “Jekylls,” as they’re known in undead circles (where they’re known at all), hope that such extreme, dichotomous behavior will somehow further their progression to the perfect balance of their dual natures.

The Nahualli are shunned in traditional vampire society, not only because of members’ grisly practices, but because they tend to be volatile and a risk to the Tradition of secrecy. Of the few Kindred aware of the line’s existence, most believe the Nahualli are simply Ventrue who have a weakness for multiple-personality disorder… and serial murder.

Covenant: Nahualli who regard their condition as primarily one of philosophical choice gravitate toward the Carthians, who represent a political allegory to line members’ own personal condition. Those who walk a more spiritual road are drawn to the Circle of the Crone, their theology being readily adaptable to that of the Acolytes. The Invictus draws members across the bloodline, no doubt due to the lingering effects of Ventrue parentage. Remaining Jekylls tend to go unaligned, as they prefer not to adopt a single set or communal goals. While a few join the Ordo Dracul for its dispassionate analysis of what would otherwise be regarded as horrific abuses, few members find a home in the Lancea Sanctum. Conflicting theology or a specific lack of spirituality is simply too great an impediment to being Sanctified.

Appearance: The Nahualli originally Embraced only childer of Mexican-Spanish heritage. Virtually all elders are of such origins. This tendency is more a result of geography than any racial preference, however, and the line now has representatives of most races. Like the Ventrue, Jekylls tend to dress as befits their status, although their attire is often less ostentatious than that of some in their parent clan, because many Nahualli have an academic background.

Haven: Line members, like the Ventrue, favor well-appointed retreats. A Nahualli’s abode is more likely to be stocked with texts on religion or psychology, or with archaeological artifacts than with designer furniture. Elders of the lineage often favor stonework over other building materials, perhaps as a reminder of the havens of their early days. Due to the nature of their practices, most choose shelters isolated from society to lessen the likelihood of discovery. Those who don’t have such a luxury usually find a separate location where they’re safe to conduct their rituals. If not without fear of discovery, they can at least go without fear of compromising their havens.

Background: The Nahualli are exceedingly particular about indoctrinating new members. The very nature of their rituals would draw the attention of mortal authorities, so discretion is mandatory. The only time a would-be sire Embraces is when a new cabal of members is founded, and even then careful consideration is given to any choice. Philosophy is also central to the very being of
the Nahualli and requires a certain mindset in a prospective inductee. Those of Roca’s following choose childer who might be described as charismatic, but naïve, with few social ties (the very sort targeted by religious cults). The more studious members descended from Bellido focus primarily on academics who’ve proven capable of entertaining unusual premises, or who are simply amoral in their pursuit of knowledge.

Character Creation: A character’s faction in the bloodline is influential to the qualities that he’s likely to possess. Roca’s initiates favor Social Attributes and Skills, the better to pursue and spread the gospel of their faithful interpretation of the vampiric “twin soul.” Meanwhile, Bellido’s colleagues focus on Mental Traits, primary Intelligence and Skills such as Academics, Investigation, Medicine, Occult and Science. The same can be said of Merits, with the first faction putting emphasis on Social ones such as Contacts, Mentor and Resources, and the second group seeking immersion in Mental Merits like Common Sense, Eidetic Memory, Encyclopedic Knowledge and Meditative Mind. Both sides recognize the importance of Physical traits, though, and give them due attention.

Highly prized across the bloodline is the Humanity of a newcomer. While the lineage’s practices soon wear morality down, a strong foundation helps establish a middle ground with the Beast in an effort to balance the two parts of the soul. Someone who joins who is already a moral degenerate faces a much more challenging struggle to find balance. Indeed, a wanton killer might never find equilibrium and makes a target of himself among brethren who decide he’s lost his way.

Organization: Roca’s religiously motivated group is formally structured. That isn’t necessarily surprising, since the bloodline is similar to a cult in many ways, and Roca is at the top. All of her followers in a given city belong to a group referred to as a calpulli. There are nearly always three to five members in a calpulli, unless it is still formative. Fewer than three are unable to properly complete the bloodline’s ritual practices. More than five are not only unnecessary, but often pose a risk of exposure. Seldom are all the members of a calpulli Kindred. One or two might be vampires and the rest ghouls bound to the eldest line member. The eldest Nahualli in a calpulli serves as a leader in rites, and is sometimes referred to as Tlamatinime (the Knower). For bloodline matters within a calpulli, the Tlamatinime’s word is law. Needless to say, no Prince would smile upon such usurpation. All the more reason why Nahualli typically present themselves to Kindred society as “mere” Ventrue.

For Nahualli who take Bellido’s intellectual approach, no formal organization exists. Seldom more than a single Nahualli of this sort is found in a city, and little communication occurs between them. Each pursues his study on his own, sharing little for fear that his brethren will steal any “discovery” he makes and claim it for their own.

Concepts: Actor, archaeologist, cult leader, museum curator, psychologist, smuggler, surgeon, theologian History

The bloodline’s founder, Vinicio Peralta de Mosquera, was Embraced by an unnamed Ventrue sometime during the late 16th century in Seville, Spain. De Mosquera was an instructor in theology at the university, which attracted his sire’s attention (himself a fairly well-placed member of the Lancea Sanctum). De Mosquera joined his sire’s covenant, but also continued to follow his own studies.

De Mosquera remained Sanctified for over a century, but had increasing difficulty reconciling the teachings of the covenant with his own inclinations. Why, for example, would God choose to set up as an example of wickedness a being more powerful than a righteous mortal? The mortal Church insisted that God did not tempt mankind, yet it seemed to de Mosquera that the immediate power of undeath posed exactly that to short-sighted kine. Even worse, the prospect of true damnation seemed distant to a being who could easily exist for centuries — and possibly longer. De Mosquera found it harder and harder to accept the Spear’s doctrine as the truth of the Kindred condition.

While De Mosquera was inquisitive, he wasn’t foolish. He understood all too well what the fate of any outspoken critic would be. (Especially one whose arguments could cite book, chapter and verse of a long list of contradictions in Scripture.) By that time, Spanish colonies in the New World had considerable size and population. Seville, the main port of call for vessels traveling to and from the colonies, provided de Mosquera with the opportunity to escape the oppression of his covenant.

New Spain
De Mosquera departed for the colony of New Spain, what roughly corresponds to modern Mexico, near the end of the 18th century. He settled in Mexico City, which by that time had a population of well over 100,000, the vast majority of whom were poor, indigenous people. Easy prey for one of the earliest Kindred in that region.

For years, de Mosquera existed virtually alone, devoid of contact with other undead, and interacting with mortals only to feed. The New World had not drawn many of his kind for fear of travel and lack of vessels. De Mosquera therefore distracted himself by studying the Aztec culture still in evidence. Remnants of an older city, Tenochitlán, the capital of the fallen civilization, occupied the same site as Mexico City, and remains of it were apparent everywhere. Street vendors sold Aztec relics, pottery and jewelry. The very stones from Aztec buildings were used to erect new structures in the contemporary city.

Even after decades as an inhuman predator, de Mosquera was shocked by the apparent viciousness of Aztec religious practices. Ritual sacrifice was practiced regularly in a manner that seemed almost gluttonous in its excess. He found evidence of mass killings that reached into the thousands. Beheading, flaying, the drowning of children, and the cutting out of hearts from living victims were practiced in regular cycles to appease the gods, both benign and malignant. The sheer brutality of the culture captivated the vampire. He made numerous nighttime visits to the University of Mexico where the Spanish viceroy had ordered most Aztec artifacts to be stored. The Church, and thus the viceroy, believed the relics could instigate anarchy by their very presence, and the public needed protection from them. Perhaps there was some foundation to these fears, for de Mosquera felt his blood stir just being in their presence.

The Nahualli
One of the elements de Mosquera found most intriguing about the Aztec religion was the concept of deities having multiple aspects. The chief god of the pantheon, Tezcatlipoca, was a dark and primarily evil god. He was the deity of night and deceit, famine and disease. His name meant “The Smoking Mirror,” for he represented all that was veiled in the world.

De Mosquera noted, however, that Tezcatlipoca also had other aspects. To the Aztecs, another identity wasn’t merely another focus or realm of authority, it was for all purposes another entity. Tezcatlipoca, could also appear as Quetzalcóatl, the Plumed Serpent, god of knowledge and light. The concept was foreign to de Mosquera’s western philosophy, but he saw a parallel to the Kindred’s unliving yet immortal existence.

The Ventrue recognized Tezcatlipoca as a more appropriate patron for the Kindred than the righteous God of the Lancea Sanctum. Tezcatlipoca was lord of the night, whereas the Christian deity was associated with the sun. Tezcatlipoca was the dark reflection of life, a smoking mirror of perception. But, like the Kindred, there remained aspects of good within his being. Where the difference came, in de Mosquera’s view, was that nowhere did he find evidence that Tezcatlipoca tried to reconcile his different aspects. In his evil aspect, Tezcatlipoca had the potential to destroy existence itself. But when in his good aspect, he represented renewal and protection.

After decades of studying Aztec spirituality, de Mosquera came to the conclusion that his elders had led him down a path doomed to failure. Since he had been Embraced, he had been taught to control the Beast, similar to the way in which he had been taught as a human to avoid mortal sins. Were it necessary to protect the Tradition of secrecy, perhaps he could have understood it. Yet most Kindred spoke of the Beast as though it were an alien creature to be feared and avoided. De Mosquera recognized that the Beast was merely an aspect of a vampire’s existence, neither to be feared nor preferred over the more reasoned existence most Kindred sought to lead.

Sometime about the mid-19th century, de Mosquera diverged from the Ventrue clan by the force of his new convictions, initiating his own bloodline. Or at least that’s the story the Nahualli tell. Other Kindred who know of the lineage claim that’s when de Mosquera finally succumbed to Ventrue fragility and plunged into full-blown dementia. There may be some truth to both accounts. Regardless, it was sometime around the middle of the century that de Mosquera stopped considering himself a Ventrue and took the name Nahualli, which he felt was a more appropriate descriptor for his new course.

The Ritual Of Flaying Men
At the middle of March, a calpulli or solitary Nahualli captures a male victim, preferably a warrior of some type (the term “warrior” can be interpreted liberally if necessary; a fireman or police officer might apply). The victim is skinned alive and the regional Tlamatinime or other performer wears the skin for the remainder of the night.

This horrendous practice is ironically performed by line members when they’re most grounded — they’re fed and avoid possible triggers of derangements. De Mosquera began this tradition in tribute to Aztec practices, making offerings of his own to the Beast, what he came to call the Smoking Mirror. De Mosquera believed that by performing such gruesome acts while in a rational state, he honored the irrational aspect of the vampiric condition. Thus, he recognized the two sides of undeath, but distinguished them from each other. Tonight, outsiders point to the Ritual of Flaying Men and others like it as proof that the lineage founder had gone raving mad. That his childer still perform the rite might be testament to their own instability.

Early Nights
De Mosquera Embraced his first two childer at the end of the 19th century. Perhaps still influenced by his Ventrue heritage, he chose both from influential backgrounds in Mexico City. Luis Valdivia Tavares Bellido was a prominent philosophy professor at the University of Mexico who was intrigued by the radical theories of psychology developing in Europe. Beatriz Quadros Roca was the only remaining member of a family that claimed to trace descent from Moctezuma, one of the last great Aztec emperors. The fact that Roca had inherited a small fortune from her family’s silver mining concerns probably influenced the choice as well.

In time, de Mosquera found his childer receptive to his teachings. Neither balked at the ritual murders to which he exposed them (but then again, prior to their Embrace, neither had to drink blood to survive, either). Given their isolation from established Kindred society, the childer had no other frame of reference from which to view their new reality.

The small coterie practiced all manner of ritual murder. Victims were beheaded, skinned, burned, drowned or had their hearts removed while they still lived. De Mosquera taught these gruesome practices, he said, to allow the neonates to honor their own Smoking Mirrors. The rituals were planned to coincide loosely with Aztec festivals, initially only as a matter of form. When rites were not performed, de Mosquera required his childer to exhibit benevolence toward mortals. His requirements did not prohibit feeding, but he stressed that such should be as gentle and painless as possible. Only by so dividing the aspects of their Kindred nature could the childer realize their potential as dual beings.

Although both were receptive, the two approached their sire’s lessons in drastically different ways. Bellido focused on psychological aspects, noting that the Aztecs believed the soul resided in three parts, which largely corresponded with Freud’s concepts of the id, ego and super-ego. Roca was drawn to the religious aspects of her training, perhaps due to her own claimed heritage or simply to differentiate herself from her undead sibling.

This divergence between the two led to a competition between them for their sire’s approval. Bellido’s academic background allowed him to converse with de Mosquera about matters to which Roca had little if any knowledge. Meanwhile, Roca, an attractive and forceful woman, could easily hold her own in gaining de Mosquera’s attention, if by less intellectual means.

The Great Feast Day Rite
In this ritual, a female captive is beheaded while standing. Participants push her body around until it falls, allowing the blood shed to cover as much ground as possible.

Final Death
By the time de Mosquera founded his lineage, his blood had grown in potency to the point that only other Kindred Vitae could sustain him. The three solved this problem in a fashion that traditional Kindred society decries as both repulsive and incestuous. The coterie Embraced new childer for the sole purpose of appeasing the elder’s hunger.

In order to avoid the risk of the Vinculum, de Mosquera drained newly created vampires completely. As a further safeguard, he instructed Roca and Bellido to impose Final Death on any who happened to survive his ministrations. While he informed his childer that such measures were simply meant to limit the strain that more vampires would inflict on the city’s mortals, both suspected there was another reason.

Each sought to pry the answer from their sire, and both were able to piece together much of the truth from the partial answers they received and from their own observations. Roca recognized the potential to gain control of the coterie. Knowing her own weakness in resisting the Beast, it took little effort to stage feedings for de Mosquera with “half-full” vessels. If her sire succumbed to Wassail, she simply made sure that she was the first he reached.

De Mosquera took no notice of his childe’s manipulation. Some modern Nahualli believe he had separated his aspects so thoroughly that the two had no knowledge of each other’s actions. His rational self was unaware that the Smoking Mirror risked Vinculum. Other more cynical Kindred are of the opinion that de Mosquera was a victim of multiple personality disorder, likely triggered by frenzy. Either way, the end result was the same.

Roca’s sibling Bellido was not as blind as his sire. Some time after de Mosquera fell under Roca’s influence, one of the two childer inflicted Final Death on the sire. Two stories are told about how the founder was slain, depending on which faction tells the tale.

Those of Bellido’s ancestry assert that the relationship between the men was close, and Roca feared that Bellido would alert the sire to the woman’s treachery. She therefore drove de Mosquera into torpor with a stake through the heart and had mortal underlings drag him into the daylight.

Roca’s followers claim that Bellido murdered the sire because de Mosquera favored the woman more. They freely admit to Roca’s attempts to trap de Mosquera by the Vinculum, and insist that proves the truth of their account. Bellido’s only choice was to be damned to the bottom of the coterie’s pecking order or to eliminate his creator.

The Nahualli Divided
Not surprisingly, the two remaining members of the bloodline split. They had already drifted considerably in their interpretations of de Mosquera’s teachings. More and more, Bellido focused on the psychological aspects of differentiating the Beast from the more controlled portion of the vampire psyche. Roca continued down the spiritual road, adopting de Mosquera’s concept of the Smoking Mirror as not only a separate entity outside a vampire, but she elevated it to almost godlike status.

Ceasing Of Water
By Aztec tradition, this ritual is performed in mid-February. The ritual victim is beaten until he cries. At that point, the beatings cease and participants hold the victim under water until he drowns. Staying true to Aztec practices, the Nahualli prefer to subject a child to this atrocity.

For a short while, the two Nahualli continued to exist in Mexico City, but grew increasingly hostile. Both realized the need to build their own coteries, not only for protection against each other, but to assist in performing the rituals that de Mosquera had taught them. Roca was determined to remain in the city; she claimed her ancestry gave her that right. Furthermore, the nearby ruins of Teotihuacán, the City of the Gods, held tremendous importance to her beliefs. Bellido, looking on Roca as primitive and uneducated, ceded Mexico City, insisting that his enlightened view was not tied to the “geography of superstition.”

Over the decades that followed, both factions grew significantly and extended from central Mexico. The surge of population in the United States drew their largest numbers, although some (primarily those of Roca’s faction) traveled to South America. By the 1940s, they had increasing contact with other members of Kindred society as more and more traveled north.

Some foreign Kindred were initially confused by the Nahualli’s seeming gentle nature. Other vampires quickly saw the newcomers as dangerously unpredictable and a threat to the Traditions. Not only was the bloodline apparently susceptible to frenzy, few of its members even attempted to resist the urges of the Beast. Their ritual practices were horrifically violent, apparently for the sake of violence itself, and they left the bodies of victims in their wake.

Nahualli cabals were soon considered a danger to Kindred as a whole, regardless of whether they violated secrecy or not. In some cities, Princes declared blood hunts to eliminate the bloodline. Others exiled Jekylls, hoping that others would find a way to deal with the problems the outcasts posed. Only in a few cities, usually those where the Circle of the Crone held considerable influence, did Kindred leadership tolerate the Nahualli (unless their activities posed an unmistakable threat).

Society and Culture
Tonight, the Nahualli have learned to keep a low profile among mortals and other vampires. Nearly half a century of blood hunts and exile has taught them that the average Kindred is too bound by tradition or too narrow minded to accept a dual nature. When dealing with other undead, Jekylls usually present themselves as simple Ventrue, if the subject arises at all. They don’t see this as a deceit, but just another aspect of their faceted nature.

Nahualli are generally very civil, bordering on kindness to both mortals and other vampires. Elders stress such decorum as necessary as willingness to accept the Beast. To those unaware of line members’ dual identities, Nahualli often seem to be moral exemplars (or naïve fools who look like easy victims).

Day Of The Dead
Traditionally, this festival is recognized by the bloodline sometime in mid- to late August. A victim is lowered into a fire pit or placed on a pyre and burned alive. Before the victim expires, she is pulled from the fire — usually with chains so the Nahualli avoid the flames — and her heart is cut out.

As a whole, Nahualli seldom become as involved in Kindred politics and infighting as their parent clan members. They find such endeavors distracting from their higher pursuit. Such dissociation is probably a survival trait as well. A Nahualli is ill prepared to take a Harpy’s barb in court without loosing the Beast.

During their many of their rituals or when in frenzy, the veneer of Nahualli benevolence is torn asunder. Any acts committed during frenzy are “the province of the Smoking Mirror” and a line member professes no remorse over them. Likewise, no matter how vile a ritual turns, it is the dark side that’s served, not the light. Or so the brood claims. Simply saying it doesn’t necessarily make it so, however.

Humanity usually dwindles quickly in the Nahualli soul. No one, no matter how pious or how caring they once might have been, can perform such acts of cruelty without suffering. And loosing the Beast freely just reminds it how it hates to go back into its cave. Weak-willed Nahualli can succumb to their inherited weakness for mental failings in short order. For the strong willed, it may take longer, but the ultimate outcome is rarely in doubt. In either case, the once-benevolent face of a Nahualli becomes nothing more than a mask for the madness raging beneath.

The Two Factions
Both Roca and Bellido’s factions exist tonight. The Nahualli, never a wide lineage, was significantly reduced by backlash from traditional Kindred society. Neither faction is represented in more than a handful of cities. Together, total membership may number a few dozen.

Each group insists the other is not truly Nahualli, but a degenerate offshoot. Both continue to practice the same rites that de Mosquera taught. Each also maintains the belief that by separating the aspects of their vampiric nature, they can somehow attain a pure state of being.

Roca’s faithful approach the line’s tenets with a religious reverence and have gravitated toward traditional Aztec trappings, using obsidian blades and even wearing ceremonial garb. They deify the Smoking Mirror (their Beast), and understand frenzies to be a form of divine possession. By extrapolation, bestial impulses are merely the gods’ aspects made manifest. It therefore falls to the individual to perfect the light aspect of her nature when a god is not upon her.

Bellido’s students take a clinical approach, although their efforts are no less supernatural. They use modern implements to perform de Mosquera’s rituals and refer to the rites as “exercises.” They insist that the Beast is an external manifestation of the id and that repression of it is damaging to the undead psyche. Likewise, the superego — that part of the self that is often associated with a “conscience” — must be cultivated. Given the dual nature of the Kindred condition, the perfect model is a dual-natured mind.

While factional differences seem vast to the Nahualli, their conflict seems semantic to an outsider. In fact, to other Kindred, the Nahualli can be an erratic and volatile menace.

Rituals of Damnation
The Nahualli do not murder with wanton abandon, contrary to the claims of other Kindred, and contrary to seeming evidence. Following their interpretation of de Mosquera’s teachings, the factions practice grisly but highly regimented murder. Specific acts, approximate times of year, and appropriate types of victims have long been decreed. The founder derived each from Aztec tradition, because he believed it to in some way strengthen the demarcation between light and dark aspects. Samples of those rites are scattered throughout this bloodline write-up.

To the modern reader, Aztec sacrifices read like something from a horror novel. While archaeologists and historians argue about the exact nature of these practices, the fact remains that the Aztec population accepted them as a part of life, without necessarily sinking into depravity as a culture. Social and religious tenets allowed them to accept and even celebrate rites that tonight seem abhorrent to all but the most bestial.

And yet, de Mosquera’s followers do not have the Aztec’s unique viewpoint on ritual sacrifice infused into them. In spite of the progenitor’s teachings and claims to the contrary, the Nahualli do risk loss of Humanity and degeneration. Thanks to the power of the bloodline’s belief, however, degeneration rolls made for acts committed in rites do receive a +1 bonus. The performers believe (to varying degrees) that a part of themselves becomes “pure” as a result of such actions. This bonus applies to only degeneration rolls called for by acts committed during a Nahualli ritual.

Despite this emotional reinforcement, many of the bloodline rapidly slide into the depths of depravity. A few draugr arose early during Nahualli expansion, complicating relations with other Kindred. Tonight, the bloodline keeps a close eye on its members, quickly and quietly dispatching any who sink too far into the Beast. These fallen individuals are considered to have lost the balance of their aspects, forever indulging in the Smoking Mirror alone.

The potential for a Nahualli to frenzy during a ritual is great. The presence of vast quantities of blood is often unavoidable, and some rites involve fire. While the bloodline in general does not restrain frenzies, members are aware of the potential for disaster. It’s standard practice for all participants to have fed fully before beginning a killing, at least reducing the chance of Wassail.

Nahualli groups that survive more than a short while in a city have a secured location for their repugnant practices. It may be an abandoned portion of a subway or a maintenance tunnel, although the presence of Nosferatu or other undead who also lurk there makes such a choice a risky proposition. Others rely on wealth to protect their “temples,” hiding them atop penthouses or on country estates. Finding a suitable location is the first priority of any Nahualli calpulli in a new city.

Tezcatlipoca’s Gift
Some Nahualli groups practice a year-long rite that requires them to hold a male captive the entire time. Young, male Kindred are ideal subjects. During the year, the victim is confined but granted any luxury short of freedom. At the end of the year, the group takes the victim to a designated shrine and removes his heart, preferably before administering Final Death. Needless to say, this ritual alone is likely to turn most of Kindred society against the bloodline.

Spawned in Czechoslovakia, the Nelapsi are an odd breed. Their appetites are legendary, as are their tendencies toward obsessive and quirkish personalities. Indeed, given their extreme thirst, it’s probably fortunate that few have spread beyond the Zemplin region, where they first emerged. Even other Kindred consider the Nelapsi something of a plague. This impression, and their moniker, relates to line members’ monstrous hunger, which is sufficient to depopulate a small community in short order. Despite their proclivity for charming personality and political savvy — no doubt due to their Daeva lineage — “Gluttons” often find themselves accused of endangering the delicate blood supply for all undead. And matters aren’t helped by rumors of the Nelapsi taking pleasure in “haunting” areas that they frequent, primarily by inspiring feelings of dread in the mortals whom they stalk.

Records of the Gluttons stretch back to folktales of the Dark Ages, many of which may be the result of just a few of the brood who hunted and thrived in and around eastern Europe. According to the stories, the Nelapsi mixed their tremendous appetites with cunning and charm. Superstitious locals ascribed all manner of hauntings to the vampires, and it’s sure that at least some of those assertions are true. Unlike certain other Kindred (such as the early Invictus) who sometimes took up a mantle of authority among humans, the Nelapsi often indulged in curiously anarchic behavior. Many a tale relates how one decided to prey on a particular village, but instead of exercising authority through the powers of undeath, he let strange sightings and ghostly sounds work the villagers into a pall of fear. By influencing the minds of the herd with nightmares and hallucinations, the Nelapsi sowed confusion, distrust and misdirection, thereby hiding his own part in the chaos. A Nelapsi who does the same in modern nights could seem like an unflagging, stoic individual in the midst of widespread terror, drawing mortals to himself through his stability and apparent dauntlessness.

Tonight’s Nelapsi have spread somewhat from their ancestral home. Still, they’re uncommon in the Americas, and this situation is unlikely to change. Thus far their predation has not drawn the full wrath of other Kindred upon them, but the Gluttons do make convenient scapegoats when feeding problems or conflicts over herds arise. Nelapsi are not widespread as a result, and groups of them are particularly unusual. While in earlier nights, line members would have inhabited towns with a reasonably large populace, the better to slake their tremendous thirst, there’s too much danger of running into another Kindred in tonight’s major cities. Many Nelapsi take residence in outlying towns and villages where they can be sure to avoid running afoul of competition.

Old World line members take some pleasure in cowing mortals into submission through use of indirect fear, triggered through their special Devotions. Modern Nelapsi usually avoid confrontation altogether if possible, but still keep a territorial watch over their own small fiefdoms. The presence of even one other vampire in an area can be a serious problem, since the Gluttons have enough trouble dealing with the difficulties of their own feeding. A few young members establish residence in suburban areas and occasionally drive into larger cities, but they don’t receive a warm reception from resident Kindred and rarely make their way into the society of the undead.

Modern Nelapsi often exhibit skittish behavior around other vampires, which isn’t surprising given their inherent tendency to threaten the Masquerade. Choices of childer (when the Embrace is granted at all) reinforce this manner. While siring is a dangerous proposition for straining an already stretched blood supply, Nelapsi can sire for any of the reasons that motivate other Kindred: jealousy, loneliness, anger, remorse. As a Daeva bloodline, they sometimes pick childer who resonate with a sire’s own vices. Old Gluttons often exert a powerful influence over their neonates, repeatedly hammering home the necessity of caution in dealing with other Kindred. Those rare vampires who align themselves to the bloodline out of personal predilection soon discover that other Nelapsi are quick to watch and slow to trust newcomers. All of these conditions combine to make new Nelapsi uncommon. The lineage has little more than suspicion to offer outsiders who join, and no compelling reason for a young Daeva to seek the blood out. A few would-be Nelapsi childer resist their sires’ influence and go their own way or even join a different bloodline, but such rebellious youth are scorned by their progenitors and former cousins.

Covenant: Nelapsi relations with covenants tend to be extreme, based primarily on how a vampire society views Gluttons’ insatiable hunger. Most Nelapsi gravitate toward the Invictus, whose feudal model appeals to the old European sensibilities of the line’s origins (which are also passed from sire to childe). While Nelapsi don’t seek out positions of authority in the First Estate (it draws too much attention), they usually have the social graces, appreciation of authority, and sense of decorum that helps them to integrate well into that stratified group. Elder Nelapsi who make their peace with other Kindred (uncommon though such a thing may be) also gravitate toward the Invictus. They find a certain comfort in Invictus attitudes toward hierarchical control, which mirrors the Nelapsi tendency to exist as secretive monsters presiding over whole villages through a combination of terror and awe.

The Carthian Movement, by contrast, is a subject of bitter divide for the bloodline. Old Nelapsi consider the Carthians little more than peasant rabble, not worthy of their own Vitae. Age, cunning and strength, elders proclaim, should be the basis of rulership. Some young line members aren’t so sure. Since gathering a herd poses special difficulties for Gluttons, modern converts assert that blending in with mortal institutions and adopting their policies is the best way to avoid drawing unwanted attention. More importantly, quite a few young Nelapsi chafe at the bonds imposed by their sires. Constant communication and over-the-shoulder interference by distant masters causes more than a few neonates to seek a more egalitarian society.

The Ordo Dracul and the Nelapsi have ties stemming from mutual geography, but the transmutative practices of the covenant have a limited benefit to the bloodline. Nelapsi have a cordial relationship with the Order, but rarely work their way up its ranks or delve into its affairs. There’s just not enough reward for the Gluttons, compared to the gains that other Kindred make. Young Nelapsi can try to honor the tenets of the Ordo for several years, but often give up in frustration when the Coils of the Dragon cannot slake their thirst.

The Circle of the Crone doesn’t overtly recruit Nelapsi, who for their part usually consider the covenant archaic and absorbed in ridiculous pagan idolatry. Nelapsi with memories of the pre-Christian days of eastern Europe are the most likely to deal with Acolytes, but even they consider the covenant needlessly brutal and steeped in self-mortification. The Circle’s magic, for all that it works with blood, does little good for the Nelapsi, whose hunger costs them too much Vitae to waste any. Some members of the Circle believe that the lineage’s feeding problem has metaphysical significance, but are split on its meaning. Some say the Nelapsi should consider it another challenge of vampirism to overcome and thus treat it as a valuable lesson. Others argue that the line’s hunger simply wastes precious blood, and is evidence that the Nelapsi are little more than sieves who should be destroyed for the sake of preserving the herd.

The Lancea Sanctum often views the Nelapsi as frivolous tricksters and troublemakers, but does not overtly turn them away. After all, God’s righteous judgment afflicts all Kindred, and all should bow to His grace. Nelapsi who lived during the religious Middle Ages and early Renaissance tend to gravitate toward the Spear, finding the message of penance and holy retribution appealing in light of their curse. Sanctified Gluttons consider their condition a double curse. One erudite Nelapsi claims that every member of the bloodline houses a demonic soul as well as a former human one, and that the lineage’s thirst is a burden handed down by God to scourge the demonic soul for its pride in coming to Earth. Young Nelapsi tend to scoff at these fables, but the unusual Devotions common to the line lend at some credence to such claims.

Appearance: Like the Daeva stock from which they come, the Nelapsi often have a refined, genteel bearing. To better avoid notice among their prey, Gluttons tend to suffuse themselves with Vitae in order to maintain the appearance of mortality. After all, since they have to acquire large amounts of blood to survive, a little bit more won’t hurt when it helps them blend in. Eastern European styles of apparel are most common, with old members wearing finery reminiscent of ancient nobility. More recent arrivals appear in anything from tailcoats to the faded jeans that sell so well in former Soviet Bloc countries. Jewelry, especially silver, is a staple of Nelapsi wardrobe. Abstract or pattern designs predominate, and sires are quick to dictate appropriate choices to childer who seek to style themselves in garish or “low-class” garb.

Haven: Many Nelapsi relish their immortality and surround themselves with art, fine furnishings and sumptuous apparel. Security is always a concern, of course, but so is comfort. Perhaps because they’re used to being feared by mortals, Nelapsi tend to feel that they deserve a fine existence. Line members have a tendency to adapt the places where they lived as mortals, turning them into acceptable havens. This trend stems from their old habit of remaining cloistered away in a familiar area where they can hunt with relative safety, away from other Kindred. Poor neighborhoods rank low on their list of possible haven locales, despite the presence of humans who won’t be missed, because Gluttons tend to have an aversion to “slumming.”

To avoid running into other Kindred, Nelapsi pick an odd assortment of havens. Some find comfort in isolated communities, especially areas where residents are suspicious of outsiders. With their Majesty powers, Gluttons can easily make themselves fit the “accepted though eccentric neighbor” stereotype. These parasites slowly sink their influence into local families through a stick-and-carrot combination of Majesty and Nightmare, causing people to fear change and the outside world while simultaneously making themselves out to be a comforting, familiar (if cold) presence. A few Nelapsi, as befits the quirky nature of the lineage, take up residence in abandoned places where their Nightmare powers can make full use of the surroundings. That includes haunted manors, decaying amusement parks and old, worn-down or abandoned strip malls. They cause outsiders to shun such places as haunted (or at least unwholesome), while they cruise nearby neighborhoods for prey, sometimes even setting up local groups of ghouls who reside in these same decrepit pits to intensify to the unwholesome décor.

Nelapsi familiar with modern business are extremely likely to finance or otherwise have a hand in any local Rack, both for personal use and to watch for potential competitors.

Background: Nelapsi take care to Embrace individuals who show enough raw ingenuity in life to turn that innovation to the problem of excessive feeding. Even then, the Embrace is rare. Too many gluttonous vampires around is simply too dangerous for all. Those chosen therefore possess high social acumen and similarly high intelligence. All the better to be creative and to be able to match wits with belligerent vampires. Or so it goes in theory. In practice, the challenges that Nelapsi sires face are passed down to their progeny. The oldest tend toward various obsessive neuroses, and pick would-be childer with similar quirks. The tight bond of training between sire and childe means that many elders pass on their peculiarities, habits, mannerisms and prejudices. This inheritance puts pressure on new Nelapsi to conform to the line’s long-held curiosities. Indeed, some Gluttons don’t even realize that their fears of “magic herbs” or their terror of being nailed into their coffins are purely psychological, not mystical.

Old Nelapsi come almost exclusively from Slavic stock. The lineage branched out only in the 19th century, so non-Europeans are rare.

Character Creation: As a Daeva bloodline, Nelapsi usually have high Social Attributes and Skills. Some cling to attachments with mortals they knew in life in order to find shelter from the abuses they inflict. Others rely on sophistication to convince mortals that they couldn’t possibly be the root of local troubles and fears. Wits is prized by the breed, while Resolve tends to lag, if only because line members don’t bother fighting their bloodlust after a few years. Physical Attributes and Skills aren’t very important to most Gluttons, who rely on their powers of misdirection and preternatural speed and might to carry them through.

Members tend manifest supernatural oddities, even for Kindred. Legends tell of a vulnerability to blessed herbs or an inability to cross a line of poppy seeds. Such foibles of the psyche are not isolated; Nelapsi sires tend to reinforce their own psychoses in their childer. (A derangement could be taken as a Mental Flaw at character creation, or mental ailments acquired in play could reinforce existing peculiarities.) Merits usually focus on Resources, a secure Haven with a good location, and a large Herd. Recently Embraced members tend toward influence and meddling in mortal affairs, so Contacts, Allies and Retainers are helpful. Status is less important to Nelapsi than it is to other Kindred, although they certainly scrutinize members of their own narrow lineage.

Organization: For a bloodline that strains feeding capacity and relies on tricks and illusions, the Nelapsi have a curiously rigorous hierarchy. That may stem from the fact that creation of new members is rare. Any Glutton potent enough to create others is unlikely to want competition for blood, so he seeks standing by presiding over his lessers rather than actually creating them. As a result, the Nelapsi didn’t expand from Czechoslovakia until the 19th century, when the introduction of railroads and ironclads made long-range travel feasible. Even with such transportation, though, rumors of Gluttons rarely surface outside of eastern Europe. While it’s possible that Nelapsi have gone anywhere in the modern world, it seems unlikely. There’s little incentive to travel outside one’s domain and risk insufficient blood, insufficient security and insufficient space to avoid other Kindred. The founder of the line presumably still resides in the Zemplin region. His brood has spread, but they typically remain in contact through letters or occasional telephone conversations, sharing information about their travels.

Nelapsi sires realize that they will be blamed if a line member imposes too much strain on an area’s blood supply, so they take pains to ensure that lessers are cautious and astute. That means frequent check-ups in twisted parent-child relationships, with all the turmoil that one would expect from an archaic parent trying to control an undying child who’s already left home and grown up. Yet, frequent contact does help the Nelapsi avoid some trouble. They address their own before other vampires do, and Gluttons use their information network to alert kin to tyrannical Princes, trouble spots or blood hunts that could be problematic for all.

Concepts: Club owner, charlatan, corporate financier, eccentric millionaire, Old World noble, prestidigitator, socialite

History
Oral reports of the Nelapsi date back to the 12th century, and if the bloodline stretches back past that, any prior activities are unknown. The reclusive founder, likely responsible for many early legends of his brood (also called upir) in Czechoslovakia, is presumed to be in torpor. The last reliable reports of contact between he and his childer ended in the 17th century.

Before the advent of modern transportation, the Nelapsi were little more than a curiosity. Less than a dozen existed, and all confined to eastern Europe. The line has not increased much in number even with the advent of rail and air travel. Sightings and stories pop up every few decades in distant cities, but it’s hard for members to see the benefit of leaving behind their caches of blood, useful contacts and well-established herds. Since the Nelapsi spend a great deal of time in torpor as well, they are generally less mobile and less accustomed to changing technology than even other Kindred.

Although the Nelapsi scrupulously keep track of their own kind, reports of the bloodline’s malcontents and rising stars are plagued by the fact that any Glutton of reasonable Blood Potency is at high risk of disappearing into torpor. The threat of excessive thirst drives some into self-imposed slumber, if only to escape the possibility of Vitae addiction. Others struggle on and simply cannot remain active from night to night. Such trends make Nelapsi hauntings cyclical. A Glutton rises from torpor, preys upon an area and a disproportionately large number of victim, returns to torpor and the whole matter is pushed aside until it happens again.

Society and Culture
The Nelapsi have a fairly rigid structure of sire mentorship and childe responsibility. Every one recognizes that an untutored line member could have disastrous feeding habits, so customs of indoctrination are strongly ingrained. Nelapsi use the term predek (“predecessor” or “ancestor”) to refer to sires, and the young are called operit (“fledges”) until they demonstrate capability with the Nightmare Discipline (until they gain three dots in it).

Since Gluttons face dire problems if their hunting grounds overlap, they consider the Second Tradition the most important of the three. Nelapsi almost never Embrace out of spur-of-the-moment passion. If they do, they often destroy the hapless childer. Each Glutton holds to a sort of “extended accounting” by which she considers the actions of any childe or grandchilde to reflect upon her. Since it’s presumed that no sire would be so rash as to leave an uneducated operit and thereby risk the reputation of the line, any mistake by a childe invariably reflects ill upon his creator(s). Failure to blend into society and to follow the Traditions haunts a Nelapsi forever, but also leaves a permanent stain on the reputation of his progenitors. For this reason, Clan Status is extremely important to Nelapsi. Gluttons pay close attention to troublemakers, and spread rumors of poor behavior through their correspondence network.

Daeva outsiders who for some inexplicable reason attune themselves to Nelapsi blood have a difficult time finding acceptance. The responsibilities of a cautious predator, old Nelapsi proclaim, are far too important for an untutored Daeva to risk the whole bloodline with his clumsy flailing. A Nelapsi ope ́rit who runs into another Glutton of no apparent traceable lineage is almost certain to send a message about the individual back to his sire. Similarly, a Nelapsi elder is likely to confront an unknown line member to make sure the stranger understands the risks inherent to his “condition.” Such a confrontation is unlikely to be physical. The elder probably sends agents or possibly even an operit to intervene and set the matter straight. A Daeva Kindred who aligns himself to the lineage for some unfathomable personal reason had best be prepared to face a host of suspicious investigations, feints from ghouls testing defenses, and runins with “natural born” Nelapsi who make certain that the newcomer won’t bring ruin upon them all.

Devotions
The Nelapsi lineage does not have a signature Discipline of its own, but does manifest several unusual Devotions. These powers accentuate rumors of line members’ haunting capabilities, and offer several tricks that help to overcome the brood’s inherent challenges. Gluttons do not teach these Devotions to outsiders. It’s more rewarding to demonstrate a few powers here and there and let others speculate about the range of strange capabilities at a line member’s disposal.

Most vampires haunt cities, making the urban landscape their hunting grounds. Few are willing to dwell outside metropolitan areas. Not only are the dangers abroad unseen and untold, but the feeding is meager.

The vampires of the Oberloch bloodline purposefully choose to stay away from cities and suburban sprawls. This choice is made partly out of ignorance (only a few Oberloch kin are even aware that other vampires exist, let alone in cities), but it’s also a strategic choice. The “Brood” opts to spend the Requiem in towns far from city lights, existing only in small burgs and hamlets many miles from any highway. They’re self-made rulers of these places, for such rural towns provide wide-open territory and self-contained fiefdoms.

The Oberlochs began as a bloodline in the most literal of senses, as an actual mortal family. The human clan, running a successful coal-mining company in Pennsylvania, grew wealthy on the blood and suffering of immigrant laborers. The workers had their revenge in 1869, forming a mob and murdering some of the family after dragging members down into the mines. The rioters, shepherded into fury by a Gangrel vampire, unknowingly left a few Oberlochs clinging to life. The Savage decided to “test” the family’s survival skills by Embracing the survivors. He didn’t stay around to shepherd his childer through those first nights. Left with little understanding of the curse levied upon them, the remaining family were forced to endure.

And they did. The undead clan not only grew, but its blood changed in subtle ways, deviating from that which created it. The vampiric Oberlochs continued to consider themselves a family. Indeed, they did so obsessively. They believed that the blood that sustained them, while technically dead, still carried their lineage, regardless of its bodily origin. They sired more “members of the family,” gathering runaways and castoffs, and brought those chosen mortals into the unliving fold of the Brood. By selecting miscreants and outcasts with cruel, tough demeanors, the bloodline grew slowly but constantly. The family couldn’t remain local, though. Wanderlust combined with growing numbers forced some from their original home and out to the dark corners of rural America.

Now, the growing Oberloch family lives at the edges of civilization in small towns just far enough from big cities, watching private herds with a protective, ravenous eye.

Covenant: This bloodline is largely hidden and ignorant of vampire society outside its own grim, backwoods niche. Categorically speaking, the lineage is almost universally unaligned. A rare number of Oberlochs have purposefully escaped the family’s clutches, fleeing to parts where they can’t be found or won’t be sought. Such fugitives are any covenant’s game, often hiding anonymously among the ranks of whatever group seems the most capable of sheltering them.

Appearance: Family members are almost exclusively Caucasian. The Oberlochs, originally of Swiss blood, generally reject the concept that someone from another race can truly share their lineage, even through the Embrace. The family has a few members of “color,” but only because those mortals seemed exceptionally suited to the clan and its ways. Oberlochs tend to dress in whatever clothes they pilfer from whatever wayward travelers mistakenly come through their small towns. The family favors modest dress, rejecting fancy clothes as a mark of self-importance and frivolity (essentially, “the city”). Their garments tend to become dirty and tattered over time.

Haven: When the family moves into a new town, spreading its influence, members start off by securing the biggest house around, whether it’s a crumbling mansion, an old farmhouse or a doublewide trailer. The oc- cupants are killed, Embraced or made the first members of the herd. Initially, all family members present dwell in this single location. As time passes, however, young Oberlochs may move out to small satellite homes in the immediate area. Should any overcrowding occur, some lesser family members may leave the sanctity of home to move on to another small town.
Background: The family has no interest in growing bigger than its britches, so to speak. Embracing new kin is allowed only when approved by the Grandmother or Grandfather of a given territory. Each family member is expected to Embrace at least one other at some point in his Requiem, however. Fostering new children is the only way the family remains strong.

These vampires Embrace only those suitable to carry the Oberloch name. Candidacy typically requires an individual to be tough as nails, a true survivor. The Oberlochs also choose those with few connections to the wider world. In other words, so no friends, family or law enforcement comes knocking. Prospective childer are often town members (spinsters, hermits or single mothers) with few temporal connections. Yet, some of the Brood like to Embrace from those who come from outside of town, such as runaways, wayward vacationers or hitchhikers. The Oberlochs verify the aptitude of a future family member through a variety of homespun tests. Such rites are often made up on the spot, but involve survival-based challenges. (A mortal may be kidnapped and left in the middle of a forest, for example, or be set on by a pack of starving dogs.)

Character Creation: Oberlochs value family members of keen mind and strong body. Either Physical or Mental Attributes are dominant. Social Attributes fall by the wayside as the Oberlochs feel that social graces are a needless luxury that don’t apply to them. As rural predators, what does it matter if you say “Please,” or “Thank you,” or know which goddamn spoon is the proper one for soup? What matters is a sharp eye, a hunter’s instinct and a strong back.

The family prides itself on choosing “kin” with prominent Physical Skills, as well (Athletics, Brawl and Survival being chief among them). A handful of other Skills are also seen as indications of “good breeding,” such as Animal Ken, Intimidation, Crafts and Subterfuge.

The most prized Merit among the Oberlochs is Haven. Most family units pool dots in the Merit to equate whatever large shelter is taken over and occupied.

Organization: Oberlochs organize somewhat like a mortal family. “Parents” hold authority over their childer, and their own sires hold authority over them. All members in a given territory are beholden to the rule of the single oldest predecessor (always referred to as “Grandmother” or “Grandfather”). Beyond that, the only authority figure is (according to some family members) a myth. Family legend holds that one of the original progenitors still lives in the coal-saddled hills of upstate Pennsylvania. This matriarch, the Oberloch known only as “Old Alice,” is said to send her own childer out from time to time to “check up on” family members in the wide world. Her legend mainly makes for a boogey man story told to keep young kin in line, but enough evidence of family condition, structure and tradition suggests that the story could be true.

Concepts: Teen runaway, town mayor, lost traveler, unsuspecting vacationer, store owner, park ranger, hillfolk, deer hunter, miner, hermit

History
In the 19th century, coal mining was a reliable — and deadly — profession for men in places like Pennsylvania, Ohio and West Virginia. Miners (typically immigrants) were subject to constant risk while ferreting out anthracite coal deep in the earth. Mines could collapse, gases could suffocate or burn workers, and as if the chance for instantaneous death wasn’t enough, the long-term hazards of black lung made the career terminal. Thousands upon thousands died mining black-diamond veins, perishing from unmitigated dangers.

And yet, conditions above ground were as bad as those below, but in this case the danger was to a man’s coffers. A miner in a given town was subject to the whims of his employer, a so-called “coal baron,” who owned and operated the company. Initially, pay for a miner was based on how much coal he was able to bring to the surface, and that compensation did little more than keep he and his family afloat. Coal barons realized, however, that their own families could gain far more if they exploited their workers even further.

Barons — already the owners of coal-town markets and stores — decided on a system of economy that bypassed the federal dollar. They established markers or “chits” that served as payment to miners. These chits were good only at marketplaces owned by the barons. And while chits were valued at roughly the same as a dollar, prices in stores were elevated unreasonably. Miners were paid the same, but in limited funds, and costs skyrocketed.

The Oberloch family, of Swiss-German descent, arrived in America in the early 1800s. While most immigrants who weren’t English or Welsh were relegated to gutter jobs (such as coal mining), the Oberlochs were fortunate enough to bring much of their family wealth with them. Within two decades, the family (changing its name to the more American “Overlock”) was owner of its own industry. In 1826, the A.A. Overlock & Brothers Mining Company was founded under coal baron Alfred Alexander Overlock and his wife Alice.

Blood and Black Dust
The immigrants — mostly Irish and some Polish — who worked for the Overlock family struggled to keep their own loved ones fed. The chit system destroyed their livelihoods above ground, while the hazardous conditions of the job murdered them below ground. Still, few immigrants entertained the idea of revolt. It meant a complete loss of income (and thus food and shelter). Meager earnings were better than none, and with an ever-growing population of migrants ready to replace the dead or dismissed, most miners settled into the futility of their situation.

That is, until Bartholomew Ahern came along. Ahern, a Gangrel vampire, kept watch on his mortal family from the forests surrounding the Pennsylvania hills. He checked up on his mortal kin every few years, who had had come to work for the Overlock company, and their living conditions were deplorable. They were practically starving, and two brothers had died (along with 75 others) in a subterranean explosion. The Overlocks did nothing to compensate the families, and went so far as to fire the men who were only injured in the accident. Ahern recognized the greed and exploitation at work, and chose a path of brutal vengeance. Over a period of weeks, the Gangrel organized many of the émigré miners, stirring their emotions into a grim frenzy. Such agitation soon erupted and the workers revolted.

They stormed the Overlock mansion — the biggest on Millionaire’s Row — and kidnapped the family members. The mob, lead by a feral Ahern, dragged the Overlocks into the mines. The family men were beaten, cut, stabbed and dragged across jagged outcroppings of black rock. The women were raped. The children were whipped with axe handles. All were left for dead.

The eldest Overlock brothers, Gerard and Jacob, died from contusions to the skull. Alfred’s sister Katrina and son Theodore both died from multiple wounds. An elderly uncle, Konrad, suffered a fatal heart attack, although that didn’t stop the mob from breaking his body.

There were unexpected survivors, however. Patriarch Alfred lived, as did his wife, Alice. Their 14-year-old daughter, Sophie, also managed to survive. All barely clung to life and might have passed yet if not for the further intervention of Bartholomew Ahern. The vampire, surprised that the parasites could weather such horrific treatment, decided to visit the curse of the Requiem upon them. He thus expended a great deal of his own power to extend his vengeance on a permanent level. He left the remaining Overlocks, alone and starving, to their own devices and suffering.

Princes to Paupers
The three surviving family members were not shepherded into their condition. They were given no instruction, no clue as to what had befallen them. Left to their own survival, they learned lessons the hard way. No sunlight. Blood for food. Mad, unquenchable urges. They could not return home. After the revolt, the mansions of Millionaire’s Row were burned to the ground. No one would accept or help them. Seeing no other choice, they fled under the cover of night.

The next 20 years passed in a hungry blur. The three vampires — only partly cognizant that they were blautsauger at all — stayed to the edges of existence, traveling from town to town and farm to farm. They fed on livestock or any unfortunate individual who stumbled too far from the mortal herd. They stole clothing, slept in abandoned houses and kept to less-traveled roads. Few of the mortals they encountered were allowed to live. When they were, the family went by the old name Oberloch, to avoid being identified and to paint themselves as destitute immigrants.

Paupers to Predators
It was not patriarch Alfred who worried over his family’s condition. He seemed curiously content to remain at the margins of human existence, numbly feeding off pack animals and wayward victims. It was wife Alice who shook clear of her bloodthirsty fog after almost three decades. She began to see the truth of the family condition, recognizing just how far they had fallen. At that point she had some comprehension of their abilities and curse, and wondered if they could do more. Didn’t their curse afford them some benefit? They were once the royalty of a small but comfortable castle. Could become such again?

Alice decided that sleeping in mud and dirt (or at best, in the husk of a burned-out barn) did not suit her clan. With that decision, she marched into the nearest town, a place called Harmony that boasted less than a 100 citizens. Now, like before, she saw the townsfolk for what they were — resources. Except now they were not beings who could be exploited for money. They were bags of fat and muscle who could be exploited for their blood, and with blood came strength. Alice found great delight in doing what she wanted, when she wanted; her family could exist like kings again. But she also saw the potential for even more freedom than before. Alice felt that her family was still human to a point, only without any need for morality or mortal law. She saw the town of Harmony as the first stop on the road to reclaiming her family’s wealth and power.

Family Legacy
After a couple decades spent in Harmony, Alice could see what was happening to her. She was growing old. The effect was barely noticeable to others, but the faint stench of entropy wafted from her flesh and bones. Her hair lost some of its luster. The skin around her eyes tightened.

Alice felt revulsion at the notion. If her loved ones still aged, were they truly immortal? Or were their lives only extended, their days multiplied until an ineluctable death? The family couldn’t be allowed to suffer such a fate. Time could still destroy them, it seemed, and so she set them to breeding.

Of course, “breeding” involved the Embrace and bringing chosen humans into the fold. The first adopted Oberlochs were selected for their hardiness of body and cruelty of intention. Unfortunately, extending the family came with the unanticipated consequence of the clan growing too big for its tiny town. Food supply was limited, so Alice sent her new children away to make a “life” of their own a few towns over. She gave them the latitude to choose their own paths and set them off.

Since that night, the Oberlochs have carried on the family tradition, unknowingly honoring the decisions made by the Brood matriarch so many years ago. The family spreads to new towns, driven by wanderlust and that slow-burning need to procreate, and there it sets up shop. If blood runs dry or family gets bored, they move on. Over the years, some have considered going to the city where food would be more plentiful, but whispers of other creatures and a general disgust for all things urban have kept them to the backwater burgs of North America.

Old Alice
The family matron now known as Old Alice is still around, despite suggestions that her existence is nothing more than a fable. She still dwells in the first family haven of Harmony, Pennsylvania, contained mostly to a single room where she rants and raves about what she believes is prophecy, and what her keepers believe is mad gibbering. Her tenders (old members of the line) take her out from time to time to “visit” with other Oberlochs. Such ancillary family rarely meet Old Alice’s expectations, and end up as either food or ash.

Society and Culture
The Oberlochs are unlike most other Kindred. The unique features and attitudes of the line keep its members isolated — both physically and socially — from other vampires. The Brood maintains its own tenets and traditions, many of which are detailed below.

Ties That Bind
Oberloch vampires are obviously not family in the strict sense of the word. Vampires may not be able to breed biologically, but they do have the ability to create progeny by supernatural means. Any mortal found to be a candidate for membership is introduced to undeath. Prior to the Embrace, however, mortals are put through a grisly initiation.

Qualification involves no one thing; initiation customs differ from town to town. For the most part, tests cultivate the tragic bond that can arise between battered wife and abusive husband, or hostage and hostage-taker. The family creates in the mortal a sense of “learned helplessness.” The Oberlochs strip everything from the victim: money, possessions, transportation, family, friends. The Brood assumes control of his resources or replaces them. In the case of money, the Oberlochs take it and offer to spend it sparingly on the victim’s needs (on food, for instance), provided he “stays put.” In the case of friends and family, the vampires attempt to subsume those roles. When the subject needs something, the family may indulge it — or may inflict violence. The mortal is deprogrammed through a cycle of intermittent reward and punishment. Months pass and the subject’s life becomes the property of the Brood. Provided he remains sufficiently debased, but strong enough to be worthy of the family name, he is Embraced.

Establishing bonds doesn’t end there, though. Family is the cornerstone of the bloodline. Members hold no actual love for one another (attempts at manifesting the emotion result in little more than funhouse mockery of the sentiment), but they do maintain powerful bonds of loyalty and protectiveness over those “of the blood.” It’s therefore critical to ensure that the newly inducted are faithful to flesh and blood. The family inflicts several tests of loyalty over the first few years of a neonate’s existence. Such tests are meant to reveal just how far a vampire is willing to go to fulfill the family’s greater good. Will she kill a puppy? A human child? An adult? Will she risk Final Death to obtain an old Oberloch heirloom or sepia-stained photograph? Family members are encouraged to come up with new tests and challenges on the fly, all in an effort to gauge a neonate’s fidelity. (Sometimes, these tests manifest as blood bonds with one another; some Oberlochs do mistakenly associate this supernatural devotion as some kind of twisted “love.”)

A neonate who fails a test is not cast aside or destroyed. After all, the family doesn’t bolster its ranks by senselessly punishing transgressions. Family is family and each member, young or old, deserves some latitude. Should enough tests (or one important one) fail, however, the transgressor is sure to be punished beyond the rational thresholds of education and pain. The same goes for any Oberloch of any age who attempts to betray the line’s heritage. Treachery against the Brood — which might be as simple as fleeing the family or cursing the Oberloch’s good name — is forgivable, provided the offender is duly punished and makes up for such duplicity. Serious betrayals (such as killing a Grandparent or calling down mortal authorities on the family) are met with a slow and arduous Final Death.

Small-Town Horror
The villages and hamlets of the world are largely unoccupied by Kindred. Most vampires flock to cities because they offer both anonymity and an unending supply of blood. The Oberlochs have little interest in traveling to cities. Not only are they filthy places, dens of the kind of corruption that corrodes family ties, but members see little reason to be the little fish in a big, stagnant pond. They’d far rather be the biggest — the only — predators in a given area, so they choose the small towns of America to settle down.

The Brood looks for a few key characteristics when attempting to stake its territorial claim in a new place. First, a town has to be self-contained. A tiny burg of 200 or so people usually does the trick, but some members have been known to settle down in towns populated by just under a thousand. Second, a town can’t be too close to urban civilization. Not only does such modernity make old Oberlochs uncomfortable, it doesn’t lend itself to the tried and true techniques of domination that the clan has established. Thus, a chosen town must be at least 10 miles from a major highway, and at least 50 miles from a major city. Places located between cities are ideal. Such locales can attract travelers who stray from the beaten path, and they make for good, untraceable blood sources. Oberlochs also select new members from the ranks of these wayward folks.

Most Brood members are completely ignorant of vampire society, so know nothing of the Traditions. And yet, the line upholds a loose version of the Masquerade. Such a rule has no name and no Oberloch is techni-cally bound by it, but the experience of old family members makes it clear that lording too openly over humans is likely to get one beaten or destroyed. That said, the Oberlochs don’t hide, either. Mortals living in a town with these backwater monsters tend to sense that something is wrong, even if they don’t know what.

The family tells of a few towns — locations hidden far from cities in states such as Alaska, Colorado and Maine — where Oberlochs live openly as vampires, ruling human herds as a rancher does cattle. Such stories may be legend, but some Brood swear they’ve been to these promised lands.

Generations
The bulk of the family far and wide consists of neonates and ancillae. It counts only two or three known elders, and few have ever encountered these Oberloch forebears.

As mentioned, neonates are put through sporadic examinations of loyalty, but that’s not to say they’re distrusted completely. New vampires of the blood — usually called “striplings” or “saplings” — are treated as if part of something far bigger than a normal, mortal existence. While they receive nothing that could be termed love or compassion, striplings do enjoy an occasional modicum of respect. They’re treated better than other mortals who wander into town, for example.

Such consideration is simply tempered with a dose of caution for new blood, as a newly Embraced member technically remains “undeclared” until her Blood Potency reaches 2. Until that time, the neonate is watched askance to make sure she doesn’t bolt for the hills. As the months and years pass, neonates are given longer leashes by their sires (or “parents”) in an effort to engender faith.

(Note that the Oberloch family does not allow other vampires to become part of the Brood. While a Gangrel can enter the family at Blood Potency 4, no Grandfather allows such a violation of familial trust. Other vampires are seen as weak-willed cousins at best. At worst, they’re perceived as diabolical outsiders worthy of a “burnin’ out back of the house.”)

Duties and Traditions
The following is a brief list of potential obligations observed by many Oberlochs. This list is hardly exhaustive. Nor is it codified in any way. Any Brood in a given town may adhere to these customs as if they were handed down by God, or may ignore them altogether in favor of a different set of practices.

• The oldest Oberloch in town is called Grandmother or Grandfather. His or her will supercedes the judgment of all other local family members.
• Those vampires below Grandmother/Grandfather who have sired childer are called father or mother.
• Neonates are allowed to Embrace another when their Requiem has reached 10 years. At that point, they gain what is typically referred to as “breeding rights.” An Oberloch may sire only one childe every 10 years (and are, in fact, expected to). Excess breeding results in the destruction of a new childe… or of an old one. Sire’s choice.
• Neonates are expected to fetch food for the oldest Oberloch in town.
• Should family members choose to ghoul local mortals, such people are called “cousins.”

The only rule in place that’s considered inviolate is what the family calls “The First Law.” This obligation, taught to potential Oberlochs even before their Embrace, is simple. “Blood comes first. Never betray the Blood.” While the law is purposefully vague, it implies that any treachery against the Brood will be met with the harshest of punishments. The First Law often adorns signs posted on or around family property, sometimes scrawled in blood, paint or feces. Some rebuke such disgusting ways, instead making cross-stitched wall hangings or wooden carvings with the message front and center.

Horror Houses
When select members of the family branch out and attempt to settle down in a new town, the first thing they do is seek out an appropriate familial haven (referred to as a “homestead” or “rooming house”). This group dwelling is usually the biggest and most obvious building in town. It could be anything from an antebellum old-money mansion to a crumbling old sewing mill; from a run-down amusement park to a doublewide. The Oberlochs kill the occupants or keep them alive (for food or to become future Brood members), establishing a “safe” place from which to pursue family endeavors. In these horrid sanctuaries, the Oberlochs acquire food, raise grotesque pets, Embrace new childer and even hold violent parties and gatherings.

Despite the family’s auspicious and mannered origins, havens tend to run toward disheveled and disgusting. Some actually refer to these places as “horror houses” (as a point of pride). Over time, the places can become models of chaos and fear. Pictures are torn off walls, claw-foot bathtubs are stained with blood, human and animal carcasses are buried haphazardly in the yard. Some havens don’t maintain utilities (although wise members know to steal money from travelers or townsfolk, which can be used to pay power and water bills). Some may even have animals (feral cats, possum or bats) living in otherwise unoccupied rooms. Not all the Oberlochs exist like this, though. Young members tend to preserve a greater semblance of humanity. It’s the older, stranger Brood who often reside this way, making lurid hell-houses out of once-stately manors.

Moving in
When one or several Oberlochs move into a town and establish a new home, they apply a loose-but-effective strategy in “claiming” the area. The first move involves gaining control over a few prominent townsfolk. These could be deputies, reverends, ministers, teachers or clerks. The means of influencing such people varies. Clever newcomers dig up dirt on mortals, hoping to gain some kind of blackmail leverage. Bribery or threats also work. Some Oberlochs go so far as to kidnap a loved one, using the victim as a semi-permanent bargaining chip. Beyond that, other methods include use of Disciplines (specifically Dominate) or making targets into ghouls. Only under extreme circumstances do Brood members Embrace significant townsfolk this early on.

From there, the Oberlochs choose their homestead for at least the initial stages of settlement. Some make this the first step, but many recognize the need to have a few “fish on the line” first. After all, taking over a house by murdering its occupants could attract local police. It helps to have one or several officers already under thumb.

A homestead provides a place to plot how to claim more of the town as a hunting ground. Is there a bus depot that brings in the occasional runaway? Does the police station have holding cells that might contain a few drunks who won’t be missed? Where do the bad kids, small-town criminals or hermits live? As the months go by, the Oberlochs scheme to take control of these areas. Of course, “control” is an ambiguous term. It could mean simply putting one of the family nearby to stalk such places and bring back food, or it could involve actively Dominating or ghouling appropriate parties to claim new turf.

Oberlochs may stay in a given town for six months or 60 years, depending on how secure the family’s hold is. Should the Brood feel that it’s losing control, it may move on. The family may also pack its bags for other reasons, such as if law enforcement threatens dominance, if other supernatural beings intrude, or if the accursed city encroaches upon rural existence. Any of these are reason enough to skip town. The world is full of meaningless little villages, each one practically bursting with unclaimed blood.

The Brood rarely chooses territory that’s already claimed, whether by blood kin, other vampires or other creatures. The clan prefers fruit that’s free for the picking. Too many conflicts from the get-go only serve to weaken the family unit. That’s not to say, however , that members don’t accidentally settle down in someone else’s backyard. The Oberlochs aren’t omniscient.

Human Perspective
What do local townsfolk think of a cadre of Oberlochs moving in? Often, not much. They certainly don’t assume that such backwoods oddballs and nocturnal rednecks are creatures of the night. The general assumption is that the newcomers are just goddamn weird. Most small towns have families like that. They might live up on a hill just outside of town, have a pack of barking dogs penned up by chain-link fence, or can be seen staring through the windows of shops or restaurants. The unsettling family, whether alive or dead, is the object of whispered rumors and legend. Locals recognize that such people are off-kilter or potentially dangerous, but are often content to leave it at that.

Of course, that’s until their kids go missing after playing too close to “the old farmhouse.”

Family Fugitives
Not all Oberlochs are happy to be a part of such a tight-knit, undead family. Truth is, most neonates are frightened and appalled at what they are, but are made to see the error of their ways by parents and elders. Happy or not, few Oberlochs ever escape the family’s clutches. Oh, most try. Few are able to succeed for long, though.

Members who go over the fence often make it one or two towns down the road, maybe getting as far as a couple counties away. The Brood doesn’t take to such treachery, and goes through Hell and high water to bring escapees back. The clan organizes what’s commonly called a “rabbit hunt.” Most times the escapee is found, corralled and returned, whether willingly or by force. The fugitive faces whatever justice the Grandmother or Grandfather deems appropriate. Punishment is usually harsh and torturous, but rarely involves destruction unless this isn’t the first or even second attempt. Under those circumstances, getting the offender to cut himself his own switch has obviously taught him nothing, and the next “switch” is driven into his heart.

A handful of the Brood has managed to escape completely. They find relative safety in cities. While a hunting party may attempt to track a “rabbit” into the urban press, hunters lose much of their power in the city. Not only are family members uncomfortable or ignorant about metropolitan areas, but their allies there are few and far between.

Those rare Oberlochs who make it to the outside world of vampire society find it quite surprising. The sheer presence of a city may not be shocking (some individuals came from cities), but the existence and nature of other supernatural beings — especially other vampires — is often unforeseen. Leaving the relatively simple rules of the Brood behind means entering a realm with infinitely more complex social and political entanglements.

It’s important to note that any Oberloch character who goes to the city as a fugitive is ignorant of most of vampire society, and may run afoul of the Traditions. Resident Kindred who come across such a newcomer may try to learn more about this aberrant bloodline (and may be surprised to discover that the countryside harbors more of these back-road bloodsuckers). Or they could try to put the Oberloch to Final Death should the rube breach the Traditions too often or too blatantly.

Ignorance
“No man is an island,” or so the saying goes, but the Oberlochs try very hard to make that proverb true. Family members have little interest in interacting with the outside world. Extending a hand to the unknown is an invitation to have it bitten off at the wrist. The Brood would rather remain insular and regionally powerful in the small towns it has infested.

This isolation translates into a general ignorance about other supernatural beings. Publicly, the family knows enough about Lupines (see below), very little about other vampires, and nothing about the existence of witches or wizards. Such ignorance is not applicable across the board, though.

While neonates almost certainly go dumb, old Oberlochs (some ancillae and the scarce few elders) know more than they’re willing to share. It’s inevitable that over a period of nearly two centuries some members have run into Kindred from other clans and covenants. While such run-ins haven’t yielded a great deal of information, providing only a piecemeal understanding of vampiric existence outside the family, some Oberlochs at least realize that they’re not alone in their condition. Obviously, the bloodline’s progenitors (Old Alice, specifically) had awareness of other vampires, but none ever anticipated the scope of Kindred existence.

Some old family members have also had encounters with supposed witches. Most of these hypothetical snake charmers were just as isolated as the Oberlochs — women of the Jersey Pine Barrens capable of casting hexes, or Appalachian men who could tell the future by throwing turkey bones and reading animal droppings. It is as yet uncertain if the lineage has ever encountered “real” mages.

No matter what, the Oberlochs keep the existence of other supernatural creatures hidden from most family. Elders find it useful to keep the majority in the dark, making the oldest the be all, end all of the unearthly world. This code of silence does, however, leave elders alone to speculate about the connection between them and the world’s denizens. Most are content to dismiss other Kindred as nothing more than inferior cousins, but some wonder if they themselves are the true aberrations.

It’s rumored that some of the Brood have kidnapped a few “city” vampires, and keep them contained in old root cellars to learn more about the deviant relatives. Since none have ever witnessed such outsiders, it’s hard to tell if such tall stories are just that, or if victims simply have yet to escape.

Lupines
The Oberloch line has had its share of contact with werewolves. The first encounter was in 1922 in the small town of Henley, deep in the Jersey Pine Barrens. Local family members clashed with the brutish wolf-men over the course of several nights, engaging in a bloody, protracted game of cat-and-mouse. The vampires didn’t know what the hell they were dealing with. Obviously, monsters existed; the Oberlochs were proof positive of that. But these things were different: savage and unkempt, coordinating attacks with a feral intelligence. The family didn’t fare well. Only one member escaped, one-armed but with his unlife intact. That vampire, said to be a Grandfather of the Daniel clan, passed on what little he could discern to family members a few counties over.

It has since been an implicit family directive to learn more about shapechangers. Specifically, how to kill the Godforsaken predators. Some family members aren’t quite experts on the subject of Lupines, but know more than most. The Brood asserts many “truths” that are actually home- spun superstitions (the beasts are men who fornicated with he Devil, or that werewolves aren’t men at all, but vengeful spirits). One piece of Lupine lore that’s both superstitious and accurate is that these creatures can be harmed by silver. (Indeed, the occasional Oberloch can be found in the cellar of his haven, smelting the previous owner’s silverware down into weapons.) Curiously, many Oberlochs know more about werewolves than they do about other vampires.

Texas Silver
The western town of Fort Assumption is home to an old collapsed silver mine called the Babyhead Mine, named for the dried-up creek bed it parallels. The town, once booming, is now mostly devoid of a populace, being counted among the throng of ghost towns in the American West.

The town does have a few temporary occupants, though: three Oberloch vampires who subsist in a broken-down RV. These undead (two men by the names of Martin and Uriah, and a recently Embraced teenage girl who goes by Dani) travel to and from the ghost town for one purpose — to collect silver meant for those “damned critters.” These three single-minded Brood members cater to no discussions or alliances with werewolves, and hope to put every last one of them six feet under.

Despite the family’s ancillary obsession with Lupines, they don’t care enough about the beasts to get too close. The Oberlochs have little interest in a bloody territory war. If there’s proof that werewolves are in an area and could potentially threaten a power base, the vampires are likely to pack their bags and get out of town. There’s no reason to tempt fate. After fleeing, the family may return a few weeks later to test the waters again. If found secure, they probably settle down. If the Lupines continue to loom, that town becomes more or less “dead” to the clan. Only a rare few Oberlochs have attempted to defend their territory against werewolves. The family can relate even fewer success stories.

Devotions
The Oberloch bloodline does not possess its own unique Discipline. The vampires don’t really know enough about their condition, even after a hundred or more years, to truly manifest any unique strains of power. The fact of their deviance from the Gangrel clan is as much demarcation as they are intuitively capable of.

The family has, however, managed to evolve a few special tricks in the form of Devotions. These powers are largely secret and are meant for the bloodline alone. While it’s not impossible that outsiders would or could learn these powers (see “Family Fugitives,” above, for an idea on how another vampire could encounter Brood members), it’s unlikely. Besides, while these Devotions serve the family and its needs well, they may not be much good to other Kindred.

The following capabilities are only a sampling of what the Oberlochs know. The family is spread far and wide, but also very thin. Some clusters may know these tricks or be altogether ignorant of them. Others may have concocted their own home-brewed powers meant to suit the specifics of their nightly existence.

The maternal instinct needn’t die with the body in a vampire’s Embrace. It is not a thing driven by love. It’s something altogether more biological, more innate. Many mortals cross the threshold between life and the Requiem and leave any parental inclinations behind, choosing to dwell in the darkness of unlife and adopt complete and total self-interest. Vampires of the Qedeshah bloodline, however, do not choose such selfishness. At least, not from their perspective.

This lineage — composed purely of women, for men suffer a grotesquely failed Embrace — began just after the Judaic Babylonian exile of ancient nights, or so the story goes. Once temple whores and priestesses to a purported deity known as the Queen of Heaven, the bloodline has shifted and adapted over the ages, joining the modern Danse Macabre as very different creatures from their progenitors.

The Qedeshah, also known as Hierodules, see themselves as the mothers of all the Damned. Nursemaids to the Kindred. The Embrace is a curse to be sure, but the Qedeshah prefer to see it as closing one door and opening another. The Requiem does not end their matronly duties, they say. Nor does it kill the capacity for unfettered creation. The Qedeshah understand that they can have children, and while creating offspring now involves a considerably different process than before, both acts are still wet with blood and wracked with pain. The rules of larger Kindred society deny a vampire’s act of procreation without a temporal Prince’s permission, but the Hierodules ask doesn’t such a ban deny the freedom that God Himself granted? He obviously allows for the proliferation of the Damned through the Embrace. Isn’t that permission enough?

Covenant: The Qedeshah belong to all — and none — of the covenants. As a bloodline, they do not hold literal allegiance to any of the factions, for none of those groups espouse precisely what members of this bloodline are taught to believe. The Hierodules mask themselves as members of all covenants, however, because they need to remain hidden (their flagrant denial of the Traditions would get them destroyed). Most tend to gravitate toward the populist Invictus or the religious Lancea Sanctum. The women would like to have more members hidden among the Ordo Dracul and Carthians, but so far such attempts have yielded little fruit.

The Lancea Sanctum is a curious conundrum for the Qedeshah. In a sense, it’s easy to hide among the group’s ranks, in part because belief systems are at least similar enough on the surface. Both pay homage to God and agree that He is directly behind the existence of vampires. Of course, the Qedeshah have a number of “alternate” theological beliefs, too, including the existence of the lesser divinity the Queen of Heaven. Such conviction makes the Qedeshah directly heretical to the Spear. Elder Sanctified may even recall standing orders to drag these “vampire mothers” before Archbishops for persecution. Thus, Qedeshah who mask themselves as Sanctum members walk a thin line. It’s easy enough to take part in some of the Sanctum’s rites, but should a Qedeshah be revealed, her Requiem may be cut painfully and prematurely short.

Of all of the covenants, the Hierodules have most in common with the Circle of the Crone. At least, that seems to be the case. Both groups recognize that undeath is an unnatural but powerful state, forcing a once-living thing into a lifeless existence. Both also revere a semi-mythical feminine being. The similarities end there, though. The Qedeshah do not count themselves as sorceresses or witches, and maintain that their origins are Judeo-Christian, believing in a patron goddess from Hebrew tradition. And yet, Acolytes do believe in a kind of “Kindred empowerment,” which allows the Qedeshah to exist somewhat easier (though still hidden) among such vampires.

Appearance: Virtually all Qedeshah are female. Almost no male members of the bloodline exist. The Hierodules do not care about uniformity in physical characteristics. It is far easier to stay hidden when shape, age and dress are heterogeneous.

Haven: Different Qedeshah choose different styles of haven. Many see themselves as humble matrons (even martyrs), choosing simple, minimalist affairs that require only minor rent and upkeep. Other women, more interested in eternal potential, lean toward opulence and luxury. One common factor is that Qedeshah tend to choose havens near other Kindred. Not only does this allow them to act appropriately as “mothers” of other vampires, but it’s far easier to remain hidden in the crowd than apart from it.

Background: The Hierodules covertly reject the Second Tradition, Embracing more often than most Kindred. God has granted them the right of creation, they believe, and the women do not reject His will lightly.

The single requirement for a Qedeshah’s Embrace is that the Requiem must unquestionably be better than a life of continued suffering. It is in this way that the curse becomes an endowment. The Hierodules choose women who are beaten and diminished by life, whether they have suffered at the hands of abusive husbands or fathers, or have been driven to addiction, homelessness or mental illness. It isn’t necessary for a newly sired Qedeshah to have the characteristics of a “good mother.” The limitless time of the Requiem can be devoted to instilling such qualities.

Character Creation: Social Attributes are favored among the Qedeshah, not only for the practical purpose of remaining hidden, but because such traits suit motherhood more than any others. Curiously, many Qedeshah also prize mortals in good bodily condition, with strong Physical Attributes. Some Hierodule understand the need to protect their “children” (whether such offspring are technically ghouls, childer or simply “adopted” Kindred depends on the vampire), and such protection sometimes requires violent contact. Like a mother lion guarding her cubs, a Qedeshah may need to rely on some manner of physical being to keep her “babies” safe.

In regard to Skills, a Qedeshah may have dots in Survival (the once-mortals were survivors in some fashion or another), but probably favors Social Skills such as Expression and Socialize. Merits tend to manifest as Allies and Contacts, for a Hierodule needs these to survive and remain protected throughout the Requiem. Many also have dots in Haven that go toward a well-placed and convenient home, or that contribute to a sanctuary (see below).

Organization: Formal meetings are difficult for a perse-
cuted bloodline. And yet, they’re encouraged whenever
possible. These meetings, held in places referred to as “sanc-
tuaries,” are offered on days corresponding to most Judeo-
Christian holidays (Easter, Christmas, Good Friday, Rosh
Hashanah). No Qedeshah is required to attend, but most
make the effort (if only to maintain Status).

The only official position within the bloodline is that
of the Dea Nutrix. This rank, literally translated as “nurse
goddess,” is granted to any member who maintains a place
of sanctuary (which is usually a haven located outside a
city, such as in a closed-down church or abandoned
schoolhouse). The Dea Nutrix calls, holds and directs
meetings. This is a position of honor within the blood-
line and requires at least Clan Status • and Haven ••• for
both the position and the location of the sanctuary.

Concepts: Prostitute, homeless woman, battered wife, teenage runaway, addict, Cancer patient, nun, nurse

History
What the Qedeshah believe about their origins and what is true differs in many places. The history of the bloodline is marred by legend and inaccuracy. For the most part, the Hierodules believe what they believe, and hold negligible interest in the “reality” of their birth. Whores of the Temple

This is what the Qedeshah claim as their history: Before the Babylonian exile, the temples of Judea were presided over by men. Hebrew priests and officiates were almost exclusively male. Women were not consistently allowed to venerate Yahweh in any formalized manner. As a result, many women honored both the religion of the Hebrews and the beliefs of multifarious fertility cults. They usually merged the two devotions, forming a syncretic agglomeration of faiths. Yahweh was believed to be the divine patriarch of heaven and man, but the women also accepted the existence and worship of one or several subservient goddesses.

Those who believed in one goddess often maintained that this fertile matron was literally the second “half” of Yahweh, and they called her Shekhina or simply the Queen of Heaven. Others accepted that this goddess was one of many cultic mothers, such as Ishtar, Astarte, Ashareh, Anath and even the dark Sumerian queen Ereshkigal. Whatever the specifics, women were allowed to offer faith in this system unhindered. They were also allowed to be priestesses, and the class chosen to be such officiates was the temple whores, called Qedeshah or Hierodules.

The holy prostitutes served many functions within the temples and towns of Judea and beyond. Aside from the core purpose of cultic sexual practice, the Hierodules were counselors, singers of lamentation, nurses and priestesses of the Queen of Heaven. They prayed to idols of the goddess (usually wooden or clay pillars called dea nutrix, indicating a goddess of nurture) and provided aid to those who suffered. The temple harlots could not marry, as such practice was forbidden by Judaic law. Women who were considered unsuitable brides for Hebrew men — specifically, women who were no longer virgins through wanton behavior or rape — were accepted as Hierodules without question, inducted into serving the holy needs of the Queen of Heaven.

Temple prostitutes were allowed to serve in such capacity until the time of the Hebraic exile into Babylonia. After the exile, everything changed.

Denial of the Goddess
The time of syncretism was over. No longer would any deities other than Yahweh be observed. In an effort to wipe clean any pantheistic influences, the Hebrews delivered the Deuteronomic laws that proscribed any functionary — specifically the Hierodules — who served “immoral” purposes or who worshipped outside the accepted Lord God.

The priestesses were targeted as blasphemers and given little chance to change their ways. Altars and statues were destroyed. Sacred groves dedicated to worship were burned. The homes of the Hierodules were razed, and many of the temple whores themselves were imprisoned, exiled or murdered in secret. Such slashing and burning took place over a period of years, and the house of the Lord was duly “cleansed.”

Presence of the Queen
Not far from the hills of Megiddo and the town of Nazareth sat a fallen village that was once a royal Canaanite city. This town, called Taanach, was the location of one of the few remaining goddess temples. The shrine — actually at the bottom of a large, long-forgotten cistern — was home to a handful of lingering Qedeshah, who prayed to the Queen of Heaven to save them. The women gathered around the altar made of baked earth and old blood, and waited for a savior — or an executioner.

Initially, no savior came for them. Men from nearby Nazareth came to punish the blasphemous women, instead, and dragged them into the night where they would be killed under the open sky, where God could see.

But then, she came. A woman, radiant of form and with bright, flashing eyes silently crossed the plain with surprising speed, murdering the men in one fell swoop. She spoke to the Qedeshah with a commanding voice, claiming to be the very being they venerated — the Shekhina, the Queen of Heaven.

The goddess did not reward her disciples. She did not present words of divine gratitude or holy accolade. Instead, she spat invective at her priestesses, accusing them of laxity in worship and impurity of soul. She called them dogs, insects and a host of other names, and each slight and slur wounded the Hierodules.

It was then that she gave them their new charge. The world, she said, was mired in suffering. Mankind endured much pain, but some men had become monsters, and those monsters suffered most of all. She told them they must become monsters to fulfill their purpose, which was to be mothers to all the demons of the world, helping to soothe the anguish of the Damned. The Qedeshah would be the secret matrons and nurses of Hell itself.

This woman — this goddess — Embraced the temple whores, and then left them.

Identity Of The Goddess
Who was the “goddess” who created the vampiric Qedeshah by sheer force of will? Was she really divine? And what do the Hierodules truly know of her?

Young Qedeshah of little faith suggest that she was not a goddess at all. They say she was divine in no way beyond being a mad vampire caught in the throes of a tortuous Requiem. Others say it’s all just a tall tale, and even then is inconsistent, the story changing from teller to teller. The town may change (“Was it Taanach or Lachish?”), as may the creator’s name (“She was Anath, bride of Baal, daughter of Yahweh,”). And yet, regardless of perspectives and details, believers in the story never question their creator’s divinity.

Those Qedeshah who are simply resigned to their reality accept that the so-called Queen of Heaven was likely a Mekhet vampire, potentially a woman who was once a temple whore herself. Was she scorned by the patriarchy of the religious order? Was she persecuted and destroyed, but saved by some other vampire? Her reasoning and story remain hidden behind that impenetrable curtain of history, and stand little chance of ever being revealed. Nobody is even sure if she is around anymore to ask. And even is she were, could her account be relied upon after all these ages?

Society and Culture
As a scattered, disparate bloodline that attempts concealment from the rest of Kindred society, it’s difficult for the Qedeshah to maintain any kind of unified society or codified laws or beliefs. Line members make every attempt, however, to teach some presumed universal truths and behaviors. Such information is passed along as a function of pseudo-spiritual philosophy and simple pragmatism.

Motherhood of the Dead
The Qedeshah teach one another that they are quite literally meant to be the mothers of Kindred. These women believe that they belong to a singular lineage, one created by the actions of God and the Queen of Heaven. They’re meant to be the matrons of vampire society. It goes beyond that, though. They believe the motherly instinct drives them, their blood literally urging them to act in accord with matronly duties. Even if a Hierodule was raised in a vacuum with no contact with others of the same blood, she would feel the same instinct.

Of course, being a “mother” among Kindred is not only a difficult proposition, it isn’t concretely defined. Technically speaking, motherhood isn’t possible as a vampire. Such parentage is supernatural, not natural, and undead birth can only come from death. The Qedeshah, unlike other Kindred, see these realities not as a denial of maternity, but as a “second chance” at it. Some even see the Embrace as an advanced means of procreation, a form of reproduction that comes with choice and control, whereby parents do not perish and children do not abandon their blood relations.

Regardless of the beliefs and blood-borne impulses of the Hierodules, Kindred society maintains firm disdain — if not violent reproach — for Kindred creating offspring. The Second Tradition, while clearly an oft-ignored convention, can still get Qedeshah destroyed or exiled for their flagrant disavowal. Some women find other ways to express their incontrovertible motherhood. Others are willing to take the chance.

The Embrace
The first — and in a sense the last — choice a Qedeshah comes to in regard to expressing her matronly instinct is the Embrace. Hierodules believe that the Embrace’s mere existence proves that it’s sanctioned by God. Most Qedeshah wish to create many childer, but they recognize that such brazen disregard for the Second Tradition would do them and their progeny little good. Prevailing Kindred society simply precludes such creation. Some, however, defy the Second Tradition as a violation of their rights, both biological and spiritual. Qedeshah who actively snub the Second Tradition tend to Embrace freely and without care. Such a Hierodule may drag only a single mortal into the Requiem over a 10-year period, while another may bring three or four into unlife in a single night. Of course, any Prince or Priscus who catches wind of such treachery is sure to take quick action. Qedeshah who choose to Embrace without caution are often exiled outside of their city or are destroyed outright. Some escape unharmed or are able to hide their children, but such luck doesn’t usually last long.

Eunuchs
The Qedeshah cannot Embrace men. Any attempt to do so fails miserably, and harms the mother as well. The bloodline is still home to a rare few male members, though.

How is this possible? When a Mekhet from outside the bloodline reaches Blood Potency 4 or higher, he may choose to join the ranks of the Qedeshah (provided one of the bloodline allows it).

Unfortunately, such a choice has a grim consequence. Once a male vampire becomes part of the line, his Vitae is sterile and dead. His blood no longer carries the curse; he cannot Embrace or turn mortals into ghouls. His blood functions properly in all other ways, though. He can instigate or become part of Vinculums, he can exhaust blood to heal wounds or activate Disciplines, and he can drink blood and feed his own to others. But no Embrace and no ghouls. (Any pre-existing ghouls or childer remain; they do not explode or disappear in an exhalation of blood.)

Under these circumstances, few men are willing to join the bloodline. The few who have joined over the last several centuries have done so because of those very consequences, hoping to destroy some small part of their awful selves, guaranteeing that they will never be able to drag another into the never-ending horror of the Requiem.

Adoption
Fortunately, many Qedeshah are willing and able to control their urges and restrain themselves from creating offspring left and right. Procreative energy is simply diverted so that a line member may still fulfill her matronly passion. One option is adoption. Ultimately similar to the human practice, it involves a Qedeshah choosing another vampire to be her “child.” Qedeshah usually choose neonates for this role (after all, the term neonate implies infant), and in most cases both vampires agree to this pseudo-familial relationship. And yet, some Qedeshah choose Kindred who may decline the opportunity — or worse, who may not even know that such an opportunity exists. Targeted neonates can be kidnapped and taken away, potentially to a Qedeshah’s haven, where the young vampire is “mothered” by whatever standard the Qedeshah upholds. The reasons for adoption vary. Some Hierodules simply find other vampires that need their aid. Cries for help go a long way toward drawing a Qedeshah’s concern. Many line members came from the lowest levels of mortal society, so are sympathetic to someone with similar needs. A member may even try to rescue a neonate from an abusive or outright sadistic sire (though what the Qedeshah perceives as “sadistic” may be very different from the neonate’s opinion). Most (though not all) adoptions are sealed with the blood bond. The resulting sense of love between the two vampires isn’t precisely genuine, but it helps a Hierodule fill the void.

Ghouls
A lesser form of expressing motherhood involves creating ghouls. Subjects are chosen from any of society’s strata, but most come from the same pool of down-and-outs from which the bloodline’s members might have originated. The poor, the destitute and the used and abused. Curiously, many Qedeshah also choose men as ghouls, if only because they cannot Embrace men into the blood.

Qedeshah ghouls manifest a few subtle but noticeable quirks. Many become meek and seemingly helpless (thus allowing a Hierodule to enact her matronly instincts all the more). Some are also feminized, even men. Female ghouls seem almost exaggerated in walk, voice and demeanor, while males tend toward androgyny. Nobody is precisely sure why this is, but common sense suggests it’s because of the overtly feminine nature and population of the bloodline.

Occasionally, particularly desperate Qedeshah ghoul children, emulating motherhood from life, but also to empower beaten or defeated children to oppose their parents or oppressors.

Degrees of Darkness
On the surface, the Qedeshah are ultimately compassionate beings. They certainly intend to be; motherhood is not meant to involve cruelty or brutality. Most are capable of expressing such gentleness, repressing the darkness of their Kindred souls long enough to attempt some good for other vampires. Acting as surrogate mothers allows them to help the Damned find some kind of center, even aiding all involved to hold onto their Humanity when all else seems lost.

And yet, the road to Hell truly is paved with good intentions. While Hierodules may perceive their motherly intentions as best for all, the sentiment may not be reciprocated. Sometimes maternal instincts get out of hand, doing more harm than good. A Qedeshah who Embraces a handful of teenagers in a given night may overestimate her ability to handle and parent these wayward neophytes. The poor young vampires enter unlife guideless and without the firm hand of a strong mother, which may ultimately get them sent to an untimely demise. Alternately, a Qedeshah who takes a neonate away from an abusive sire may not fully grasp the consequences of her action. Rescuing him may seem right at the time, but it may call all manner of trouble down upon both their heads, even if that trouble comes from the furious sire alone.

Harm done by a forceful mother could also be devastating. Some Hierodules — perhaps old vampires who have long suppressed themselves, or ones who were particularly frail mortals — just can’t handle their compul- sions. Breakdowns may be temporary and last only a few nights, or could last decades. In such a period, a Hierodule takes irrational and even violent actions. A few Qedeshah have actually kidnapped other vampires (again, usually neonates) with the intent of raising them. The mother’s mental faculties are unfit to allow any kind of real care, however. She typically ends up torturing a neophyte psychologically or physically in an effort to express her “love.”

One infamous Hierodule called herself Mother Mary. She didn’t kidnap just one neonate. She traveled from city to city, managing to survive long enough to abduct dozens of newly sired vampires. She finally settled in a country haven, where she conditioned her victims through grueling periods of reward and punishment, pausing long enough to line them up like dolls and dress them in outfits that she had sewed. It took years to track Mary down. By that time her “babies” were too deranged to be fit for Kindred society. Rumor suggests that her awful children are still out there somewhere.

Remaining Hidden
Some vampires are aware of the Qedeshah. The bloodline has not been able to conceal itself completely over the ages. The few elders who remember the Qedeshah believe them to be lunatics. What vampire chooses a path of motherhood, attempting to empower the Curse? Not only are line members regarded as insane, they’re decried as heretics to Kindred society.

It isn’t altogether too difficult for Hierodules to remain hidden. At least, not at first. They tend to mask themselves as Mekhet. The problem of staying hidden arises when a member wanders afield, running afoul of the Second Tradition. A solitary mother who’s determined to protect her own family might turn a blind eye to the persecution of a fellow line member. That isolation is ultimately shortsighted, though. Some elders understand that where there’s one of the line, there could be many, many others, and a purge gets underway. Thus, where one Qedeshah is endangered, solidarity tends to endanger them all. Fortunately for the bloodline, its kind are little known and therefore escape casual notice until some mother over indulges her impulses.

Worship and Veneration
The Hierodules accept that they owe their existence to divine intervention, believing that their bloodline literally spawned from the Vitae of a goddess. Having almost no written account of their beginnings, most of what the bloodline tells its childer is oral legend. This story — which may change in the telling from woman to woman — almost universally includes the goddess as Hebraic in origin and as half the Judeo-Christian God or as a being subservient to Him. Regardless of the story, the current conclusion is that the patron goddess and her offspring (i.e., the Hierodules) serve Yahweh. None are equal to the King of Heaven, and the Queen of Heaven is his second.

In the past, much of this legend was the focal point of the bloodline’s very existence. While motherhood was certainly important, it was possible only because the Queen of Heaven begat the bloodline and gave it purpose. Hierodules were once very spiritual as a result. They engaged in prayer circles, offering praises and hymns to Yahweh and then to Shekhina. Such faith was not only encouraged, but expected.

Over the past hundred years or so, the bloodline has lost some of its devotion, becoming predominantly secular. Most Qedeshah tonight pay lip service to the religious aspects of the line, saying the occasional prayer or using religiously loaded greetings (“May the Mother of Heaven see you safe”), but only elders offer any real piety or devotion anymore.

This transition has occurred in part because modern vampire society is overcrowded. Venerating such ancient and syncretic beliefs would reveal Qedeshah for who they are. Some Qedeshah also maintain ties to the more common practices of Judaism and Christianity. Achieving some small piety in these overarching religions at least helps a Hierodule show deference to her supposed origins. By venerating Yahweh in a more common and unexceptional manner, she is still able to offer faith to God the Father, while remaining safely in the larger fold.

Ultimately, the rigorous religious beliefs of elders and the diffused practices of the young majority has caused something of a schism in the bloodline. The rift has yet to cause the Qedeshah any lasting harm, but it may bring trouble given enough time and conflict.

Rituals and Beliefs
The full regimen of the bloodline’s doctrines has been lost to the ages. Elders are incapable of remembering them, and the young Qedeshah don’t care enough to practice them. A few customs are perpetuated, mostly by elders, and some modern Hierodules take the time to pick and choose from these as befits their Requiem.

• Offer prayers and libations first to Yahweh, the Lord Father
• Offer hymns and incense second to Shekhina, the Queen of Heaven
• The Embrace is holy and sanctioned by God. To not Embrace is to defy God.
• Anoint your children’s foreheads with a tincture of blood and oil
• Never kill a human in hunger. Motherhood brings life, not death.

A few Qedeshah also practice strange, more extreme rituals. Some elders cut themselves once a month, letting Vitae spill in an effort to simulate the menstrual cycle. Others may feed on only children and infants in hopes of growing more “in touch” with their maternal instincts.

Some also establish small altars to the Queen of Heaven in their havens. These shrines take many forms: wooden pillars with female figures carved in them, clay fertility figures and even icons representing the biblical Mary.

Sanctuary
One practice that remains strong in the bloodline is the maintenance of “sanctuary.” A sanctuary is meant to be a safe house for condemned Kindred (usually women, though not necessarily). This vampiric “halfway house” is a communal haven established by an old Qedeshah (called Dea Nutrix, or “nurse goddess”) as a place for victimized Kindred.

If a Qedeshah finds a neonate who suffers torture at the hands of his sire, she may offer him succor in the form of sanctuary. Some Hierodules don’t ask, acting on the principle that some beings simply don’t know what’s best for them. With that in mind, a Qedeshah abducts the vampire in a supposed act of “goodwill” and “motherhood.”

The conditions required for a Kindred to be allowed entry into a sanctuary are subjective, given to the whims and interests of the founding Qedeshah. One may believe that an ancillae hunted by the Lancea Sanctum as a heretic deserves asylum, while another may feel that such a reckless creature warrants whatever suffering he brings down upon himself. If terms of welcome into a sanctuary are too broad, vampires crowding together could lead to blood-soaked conflict. Needless to say, doors are always opened to fellow Hierodules, especially when they and their childer are subject to a blood hunt.

Some Qedeshah create sanctuaries away from cities, but near some kind of blood source, like a town. A remote sanctuary might be founded at an old hotel, a derelict schoolhouse or even in an abandoned mine. Distance from cities offers some respite for refugees, but also little avenue for escape if inhabitants are hunted down. Sanctuaries established in cities could be located anywhere: the sub-basement of a tenement, deep within an old subway tunnel, or in a well-guarded mansion should a Dea Nutrix be wealthy (or cruel enough to take the place from its mortal occupants). Such urban retreats are often launch points for refugees. They can’t stay (too many vampires in one place would reveal the location), but escapes from undead authorities can be prepared and initiated from these sites.

Sanctuaries aren’t strictly halfway houses, though. They serve as general meeting places for line members. Gatherings are usually held on holy days. Services were once overtly religious, but are now opportunities for Qedeshah to drop all pretense and be what they believe themselves to be — mothers. Meetings also allow them to teach other, newly sired Hierodules exactly what such a calling means, and what’s involved in offering motherhood to accursed creatures.

Of course, some sanctuaries are not the places of peace and safety that they’re advertised to be. They’ve been twisted into menageries by Qedeshah mad with the urge to procreate. Such locales are less about asylum and more about trapping “pretty bugs” in a jar so that the presiding Dea Nutrix can take care of them.

In the last decade, several cities throughout Europe, the Americas and Australia have received immigrants from India. Hideous vampires called Rakshasas, who have petitioned Princes to accept them among local Kindred. Although few in number, these self-styled “Demons” present themselves as members of a large bloodline, a Nosferatu offshoot so old and pervasive that Indian Kindred treat it as a clan unto itself.

Hindu, mortal mythology describes rakshasas as a sort of demon. The horrific and evil monsters of those stories are deadly enemies of humanity and the gods themselves. They supposedly exercise their murderous malice with the help of a power to assume both human and animal form. The Indian Nosferatu claim they are the inspiration for the legend.

Vampiric Demons can fight as well as their mythical namesakes, and proudly claim the rank of Kshatriya (warrior) in the Hindu caste system. Indeed, some emigrants have traded on their martial prowess. Rakshasas who have taken up physical professions such as bodyguard or Hound distinguish themselves through great courage and loyalty. Others, however, offer to sell Kindred access to the realm of influence these vampires have established: shipping, specifically of the undead. Kindred who want to smuggle cargo into or out of a city can hire the Rakshasas and their ghoul minions. The Demons also claim they can safely ship other Kindred anywhere in the world… though few vampires are brave or trusting enough to accept the offer. Meanwhile, most Rakshasas seem genuinely concerned about building a reputation for honest dealings.

Covenants: The covenants in India bear no relation to those known in Europe and the Americas. Rakshasas who come west describe themselves as Kshatriyas, or members of a warrior caste. In India, castes seem to play a role among the undead not unlike they do with mortals.

Of all western societies, the Lancea Sanctum offers the least to Demons and treats them with antipathy. The immigrants do not believe Sanctified quasi-Christian myths about the origin and purpose of vampires. I will strive to obey your laws, but I must fulfill other duties as well.

The Invictus and Carthians treat the Rakshasas as just one more faction to recruit in their political and business struggles. Members of both groups cultivate alliances with Demons in hopes of monopolizing their shipping services. Some Acolytes want to learn the mysticism of the East, though the Rakshasas pay little heed to magic. The Ordo Dracul likewise sees the Demons as possible routes to whatever occult lore the Kindred of India might possess. As yet, few western Rakshasas show much interest in joining the covenants, remaining unaligned.

Appearance: These Nosferatu tend toward grotesquely inhuman appearance, extreme even by their parent clan’s standards. Rakshasas have skin colored pustulent yellow, rotten green or bruised blue. Their arms or legs may be too long or too short for their bodies, while their claws and fangs never retract.

Rakshasas often carry a dagger, a custom borrowed from mortal Sikhs as a means of demonstrating their status as warriors. While they may adopt turbans on formal occasions, emphasizing their difference from other Nosferatu, these immigrants prefer modern business suits (tailored for their misshapen forms) to traditional Indian garb.

Haven: The aristocratic Demons refuse to dwell in filth. Crypts and abandoned cellars are the humblest havens a line member may accept. Rakshasas who have enough talent at Obfuscate to pass for human may dwell in posh hotels, handsome townhouses or mansions. The Rakshasas say that back in India, their elders and leaders dwell in ancient palaces, fortresses, temples and royal tombs. Demons with sufficient skill at Protean often sleep while melded into earth or stone, but prefer to rest in the wall or floor of a pleasant, well-appointed haven.

Background: All Rakshasas come from the Indian subcontinent, particularly southern India and Sri Lanka. Players should consider what specific circumstance prompted a character to make the difficult passage to a distant land. The few line members Embraced in the West come from mortal stock of Indian descent, though this tendency results in part from mere propinquity; Demons tend to dwell among their mortal countrymen and favor them as vampires and ghouls.

Most would-be Demons spend several years as ghouls before being Embraced. Rakshasas value hard work and street smarts, as well as aggression and ambition. They select their servants, and therefore their childer, from the full range of mortal society. In life, many Rakshasas were laborers, petty tradesmen, beggars, gang members or outright criminals. Other Demons select childer from the police or military, as the modern warrior elite. Like their parent clan, however, Rakshasas sometimes use the Embrace to punish mortals who take great pride in their looks, standing or wealth. Such nascent line members must endure years of humiliation and abuse, and must work twice as hard as any other childe to gain acceptance in the lineage.

Organization: Western cities seldom see more than three or four Rakshasas at a time. As these immigrants are quick to admit, they’re fortune hunters or refugees. Back in India, the bloodline has fallen into a feud so vicious that migrant Demons prefer the risk of transcontinental travel. Brood members tend to have at least one ghoul servant, while some keep multiple ghouls as well as assorted blood bound, mortal minions. (In part, this is simply because a vampire needs such servants to travel.) Most Rakshasas maintain contact with sires or older Demons back in India, who coordinate the bloodline’s fledgling transportation network. Modern communications technology lets members stay in contact around the world.

A city’s Rakshasas work closely with each other, even if individuals join coteries of other vampires. They even share their ghouls, as a common asset of their private corporation.

Character Creation: Mental Attributes and Skills are often primary among Demons who are entrepreneurial, all the better to recognize opportunities or to create them where they don’t exist. Social traits are important to those line members who seek the wider world, so that they may ply their trade among the Kindred. The failings of their Blood might make deal-making a challenge, but Rakshasas seem to believe that the quality of their services wins out where their own demeanor founders. Physical traits may be primary to those Demons who pursue their martial calling first and foremost, putting emphasis on personal combat before ranged combat. No matter what, Physical Attributes and Skills are at least secondary among line members when another class of trait takes precedence.

Haven is an important Merit for Demons, specifically Location or Size. Retainer is also common in the form of ghoul servants who may or may not receive the Embrace one night.

Of course, if a Nosferatu of Indian heritage is to join the bloodline shortly after the Embrace, two dots of Blood Potency are required. It is highly unlikely that a non-Indian Haunt would be accepted into the line.

Concepts: Loan shark, urban legend, warrior poet, guardian monster, guru, spy, modern Robin Hood, security consultant, man about town, personal-combat trainer, tech-support night manager, gambling-den proprietor, former professional athlete

History
According to legends told by Indian mortals, the god Brahma made the rakshasa-demons from his foot. Indian vampires consider this story allegorical at best. Eastern Kindred tell several myths about their origin, all just as unverifiable as the legends of western undead.

Most Rakshasas believe their bloodline descends from the arch-demon Ravana, the legendary king of their race. The story of Ravana and his struggles against the gods is told in the Ramayana and other myths. The Ramayana says the hero Rama, an incarnation of the god Vishnu, killed the Demon Emperor using an arrow fashioned by the creator-god Brahma. Vishnu incarnated as a mortal because Ravana used magic to become invulnerable to gods, beasts and all the powers of nature, but not to mere men.

Because Rama was actually a god and used a god’s weapon, however, the Rakshasas say his victory was a deception. Once the gods bent their own rules, the demons could too, and became flesh and spirit. They could incarnate as mortals and then regain their demonic powers through the Embrace. Ravana is said to have been the first to reincarnate this way, transforming into a vampire through his own spiritual power. He became the first Rakshasa vampire, and supposedly one of the first Kindred. The Rakshasas say the other Nosferatu bloodlines in India split off from Ravana’s brood. His brother Kumbhakarna became the first of the Sudra, or common Nosferatu. Prominent Rakshasa sub-lineages claim descent from Ravana’s son Meghanada, his sister Surpanakha, and his minister Maricha.

The Rakshasas believe Ravana ruled their bloodline-caste for more than a thousand years, and Demons ruled the night in southern India.

The Kshatriya Ascendance
In truth, the Rakshasas cannot prove they existed before a thousand years ago. As with all Kindred, their early records have been corrupted through self-serving forgery and revision, or were destroyed in ancient conflicts. Their legends first intersect mortal history in 500 B.C., when India underwent political and religious turmoil. Around that time, India’s mortal Kshatriya aristocracy adopted Buddhism and suppressed the Brahmins’ religious authority. Kindred tradition holds that this period saw great strife among Indian vampires.

The bloodline was confined to southern India. The Rakshasas fought a long series of battles with other clans and bloodlines to become the dominant lineage of the region. The Rakshasas’ traditions say they Embraced mortals from aristocratic families, and so were Kshatriyas from birth and from the “second birth” of the Embrace. Many Rakshasas also clung to Buddhism from their mortal existence. Indeed, the bloodline preserves a substantial body of legend about members who became “wrathful protectors,” battling monsters and demons on behalf of mortal monasteries, and even escaping undeath through Buddhist devotion (which is perhaps the origin of the Kindred myth of Golconda, which bears the name of an Indian city).

And yet, other accounts claim the early Rakshasas were vicious, almost mindless beasts that roamed the forests and villages, slaughtering mortal prey at whim. The stories say that in the centuries before the Common Era, undead Brahmins trained some Rakshasas into a reasonable approximation of civilized humanity. These disciples founded the Rakshasa lineage of southern India.

Regardless of content, all of these accounts date from centuries later, and credit the undead Brahmins with all the achievements of Kindred society in Indian. Whatever the truth of their origins, the Rakshasas spread from southern India until they dwelled throughout the subcontinent. Their expansion occurred through adoption as much as through the Embrace. Many Nosferatu are said to have joined the line and contributed their own childer to its growth. The lineage used the promise of higher rank to recruit low-caste Nosferatu as warriors for the cause.

The Brahminical Revival
After A.D. 400, Buddhism lost its grip in India and Hinduism reasserted itself — but a Hinduism extensively rewritten to favor Brahmins. The caste system hardened for Kindred as well as kine. For the next four centuries, Brahmin vampires mobilized other Hindu undead to suppress the Buddhist Rakshasas and install Hindu Rakshasas as local leaders. Rakshasa tradition claims that at that time the Brahmins had mastered the potent blood magic that became their hallmark and key to power. (Brahmin Kindred, meanwhile, claim they always possessed it.)

As Brahmin vampires achieved greater power in Indian cities, they discouraged the practice of adoption between bloodlines. Nosferatu (and other Kindred) who dwelled in villages continued the custom, but India’s urban undead came to regard it as indecent… unless sanctioned by a Brahmin. In fact, the Brahmins established an opposing custom of expelling bloodline members who disgraced themselves by violating their caste duty, or by showing insufficient respect for Brahmins. Through a variation on the adoption ritual, a Brahmin with powerful blood could strip a Kindred’s Blood power, turning him back into an ordinary member of his clan. Such degraded Kindred were deemed Untouchable. The most powerful blood-magicians could even curse disinherited vampires to force them into new Untouchable bloodlines of their own.

Rakshasa immigrants to the West cannot provide any details on this potent rite. The Brahmins supposedly keep it even more closely guarded than the rest of their blood magic, assuming it exists at all or the secret has not been lost altogether.

New Invasions
The Rakshasas paid little heed to the early Muslim invasions of India, which began as early as the eighth century A.D. In the 13th century, however, Demons in the Sultanate of Delhi began Embracing Muslims, and many old line members converted. Rakshasa tradition ascribes spreading conversion to a Muslim holy man who showed the supremacy of his faith by requesting the Embrace, and then restoring his own humanity. This saint, remembered as Nur-al-Hayy (“Light of Life”), also performed various other miracles before he disappeared as mysteriously as he had appeared. Continued Muslim invasions and conquests, such as Timur’s sack of Delhi and Babar the Great’s founding of the Mughal Empire, led to more northern Rakshasas accepting Islam. They saw it as a faith of conquerors. Smaller numbers of Demons converted to Sikhism, a new faith combining aspects of Hinduism and Islam, and which enjoined all men to consider themselves warriors.

The 16th century saw a new factor enter Indian politics, when the Portuguese and other Europeans established trading posts such as Goa. India’s Kindred largely ignored such visitors until the 18th century, when the British subjugated Indian kingdoms. In response, the Kindred of many domains attempted a campaign to expel the British as defiling foreign conquerors. Once again, the Rakshasas clashed with several Brahmin bloodlines. Demon elders saw the Brahmins’ call for a pan-Indian alliance of vampires as a scheme to subvert Rakshasa independence. Although Demon groups had fought over hunting territory and prestige for centuries, they found a common purpose in asserting their right to fight each other free of Brahmin interference. The Rakshasas also fought against other Kshatriya lineages that joined the Brahmins for reasons of their own. Such infighting (the Rakshasas were hardly the only group to oppose the plan) rendered local Kindred irrelevant to India’s war for independence. Many vampires supported the movement against colonialism, but they did not drive the struggle or play a crucial role.

The 20th Century
The infighting of the 19th century led to a powerful alliance of Rakshasa leaders in southern India. This pact sought a return to tradition in the face of cultural change among Kindred and kine. For instance, the new Indian government supported British attempts to break down the mortal caste system, which led to some young Kindred to challenge the old ways as well. Although Rakshasa elders welcomed any movement that weakened Brahmin authority, they did not want to accept undead from lower castes as equals. Elders also condemned the minority of Rakshasas who supported the undead Brahmins’ anti-colonial campaign, saying they were not worthy of Ravana’s blood. Some pro-Brah- min Rakshasas had been adopted from other Nosferatu stock, or descended from adopted sires or grandsires — enough of them for elders to link adoption with disloyalty and impure blood.

Naturally, proud Rakshasas resisted attempts to be degraded into second-class members of their bloodline. Some Demons left their cities and returned to the lineage’s tradition of rural hunting. Others schemed with fellow Kindred to overthrow the elders, or to at least reduce their power. Sometimes these plots worked, but they inevitably led to more suspicion in Rakshasa communities.

By 1990, undead conflicts escalated to all-out war. In some cities, Rakshasa elders sought to destroy all Demons who lacked a sufficiently ancient pedigree. Others offered Demons of “impure” blood amnesty — if they would submit to blood bonds. Young Rakshasas fled north if they could, but other Indian cities were already overcrowded, and existing residents did not care for the upstart newcomers.

The most desperate Rakshasa tried to leave India altogether. Some already owned or exploited trading companies. They used their cargo vessels, ghouls and mercantile connections to ship themselves out of the country, risking everything for a chance in a new land. The first would-be expatriates suffered Final Death as often as they succeeded, but each Rakshasa who sent word of his success back to his allies inspired a dozen more to seek their fortune abroad.

The journey west remains dangerous, but the Rakshasa gradually become better at it with practice. The full implications of this diaspora remain to be seen — as does the potential emergence of a system that enables vampires to cross continents.

Society and Culture
Until recently, as the undead reckon such things, western Kindred weren’t sure India had vampires. Thus, they feel they cannot take anything about the Rakshasas for granted. Demons do not display any supernatural powers unknown to western vampires, but their culture presents many puzzles… and what seems straightforward often becomes strange when looked at more closely. The Rakshasas say they are warriors, but they do not merely fight mortals or other vampires. They claim to exist to fight the gods themselves.

Caste And Dharma
Hinduism divides humanity into five classes technically called varnas (“colors”), but they’re more often called castes. Not only does Hinduism forbid intermarriage between castes, but people born into a particular caste can perform only certain types of work. Other occupations defile them. Each varna includes numerous specific castes and sub-castes. Some represent occupations, while others began as tribes, religious sects or other divisions. One ethnologist compared the caste system to dividing the population of Britain into “families of Norman descent, clerks in Holy Orders, noblemen, positivists, iron-mongers, vegetarians, communists and Scotsmen.”

Priestly Brahmins perform sacrifices and claim most of the educated professions for themselves.

Kshatriyas were the land-owning, warrior aristocracy of old India, and rivals of the Brahmins as India’s ruling caste. After centuries of religious and political conflict, the Brahmins eradicated the old Kshatriya families. Over the centuries, however, the Brahmins awarded Kshatriya status to one conquering military elite after another as a way to curry favor with the new ruling class.

Vaisyas began as farmers and tradesmen. They eventually claimed many of the middle class, mercantile and artisan occupations.

Sudras are peasants and menial laborers.

The Pariahs or Untouchables consist of all the people (and their descendants) who have fallen off the bottom of the caste system: aboriginal tribes; non-Hindus; criminals; slaves; the offspring of forbidden, inter-caste unions; and people who perform jobs the Brahmins thought especially degrading, such as sweepers and garbage men. The very lowest castes were believed to defile high-caste people by proximity or merely by being seen.

Brahminism defines separate and distinct codes of conduct and ethics, called dharmas, for each of the castes. A Brahmin who acts like a Sudra sins as greatly as a Sudra who acts like a Brahmin. Indeed, deviation from caste duty threatens the very order of the cosmos. The world will end when it reaches a state of complete adharma, when no one obeys the purity taboos and codes of conduct set by their castes.

Jainism, Buddhism and ascetic Hinduism challenged the caste system by positing universal dharmas: codes of conduct, ethics and supernatural merit that applied to all people, regardless of caste. Even Demons could gain merit as ascetics, or convert to Buddhism and turn their violent natures to good use as “wrathful protectors” or “guardians of the dharma.” Islam and Christian converts rejected the caste system, but it has survived every challenge.

Indian Kindred possess their own versions of the mortal castes. Each clan possesses lineages in one caste or another. The Rakshasas began as a Kshatriya division of the Indian Nosferatu. Other Haunts belonged to other castes. After centuries or millennia of separation, bloodlines barely recognize each other as members of the same clan. To a large degree, castes take the place of covenants for Indian vampires.

The Dharma of Demons
Some Kindred wonder how creatures who consider themselves actual demons can treat their fellow Rakshasas and other Kindred with honor. Rakshasas appear in tales as murderous monsters, eagerly committing every crime imaginable against mortals and gods. The Rakshasas do not deny such portrayals. They say that as demons, their dharma or caste duty is to prey on the living and to fight the gods. As warriors, however, they have a duty to show martial virtues of courage, loyalty and honesty to their own kind… and they say all vampires are demons. Their creed says the Rakshasas were incarnated into mortal flesh for a time, but the Embrace revealed their true nature, as their destiny foreordained. Other Kindred merely retain a greater semblance of humanity, but none of them were ever really human. After Final Death, Rakshasas believe they may reincarnate as higher creatures, such as mortals of higher caste, if they fulfill their dharmas in undead existence.

As enemies of the right and proper order of the world, Rakshasas know they should try to work evil and disrupt mortal institutions. In practice, they know that constant savagery toward mortals would quickly send them into the madness of the Beast. Their creed describes feral behavior as full acceptance of vampires’ demonic nature, a fulfillment of their dharma (which makes it right for other Rakshasas to destroy a rampaging vampire, so he can pass to his next incarnation). In practice, most Rakshasas seek to delay this holy consummation while paying lip service to it as a goal.

Rakshasas can attack the world by other means than murder, though. Orthodox Hinduism sets forth a sacred order in which everyone takes his father’s occupation, obeys authority and observes the rituals and taboos that sustain reality. Violating that order threatens reality itself. A Rakshasa can strike against the gods by disrupting a religious ceremony, or by leading a mortal to act like someone from another caste. Crime, rebellion and chaos all bring the world closer to ruin.

Indian philosophy also lends Demons the notion of universal dharma, which can counteract caste dharma. Indian Kindred have developed a large body of moral philosophy on how to resist the Beast while remaining technically evil. Every Rakshasa seeks his own balance between the universal dharma of maintaining Humanity, and the caste dharma of performing evil. For instance, a Rakshasa struggling to resist frenzy might pit greed against the Beast by concentrating on the financial harm he can cause. Another Rakshasa might turn “Robin Hood,” using crime to attack the distinction between rich and poor, a distinction much valued by the rich.

The mortal world doesn’t care as much about caste taboos and religious rituals as it once did. Emigrant Rakshasas react to modern society in a variety of ways. Some believe their traditional duty is irrelevant in the West. In a society with no castes, where people value self-expression instead of keeping their place, where mass media celebrates greed and lust, and faith is a lifestyle choice, what’s left for a demon to do? Like many immigrants, they try to assimilate into their new land as quickly as possible, perpetuating the sins already performed there.

Other Rakshasas continue their traditional practices as best they can. Many American and European cities now have Indian minorities and at least a small Hindu temple. A Demon can torment people from the old country, vandalize the temple and spread chaos in the community.

Still other Rakshasas believe the West has its own gods and dharmas — different from India’s, but just as sacred to western mortals. These Demons believe their duty lies in attacking and subverting the sacred order of western culture, whatever it may be. Business, politics, public morals — all have their own codes of virtue and disgrace. Instead of killing a prince a vampire can rig an election. Instead of vandalizing a church, he can cause a schism in the congregation. He can spread chaos by destroying reputations and trust in institutions.

Demons cunning enough to evolve such schemes are usually clever enough to realize how much western Kindred depend on mortal institutions. An immigrant doesn’t tell Kindred that he intends to bankrupt the Prince’s corporation, or ruin the reputation of the Ventrue Primogen’s city councilman. Once the brave, honest and very polite Rakshasa gathers his own power base, other Kindred simply suffer a shock when they learn how that power base is applied.

Career Changes
A Rakshasa’s activities and occupations depend on his mastery of Obfuscate. Without that Discipline, no Demon can pass for human. Seen in his true form, he terrifies mortals and breaks the Masquerade. Such a scandal matters somewhat less in India than in the West, since many mortals there still believe in evil spirits of monstrous appearance. Until a Rakshasa learns to cloud the mind and delude the eye, he cannot engage in any normal activity among mortals.

Thus, before they master Obfuscate, many Rakshasas exist as pure predators, completely cut off from human society. They may stalk the countryside, relying on Haven of Soil to shield them from the day, or they may slink through the night as urban terrors. Young Rakshasas work especially hard to gain acceptance among other vampires, because other Kindred provide the only social interaction they may enjoy. A Demon can act through blood-bound mortal proxies, but overseeing ghouls is a poor substitute for a calling of one’s own. A few Rakshasas find companionship as well as feeding stock by setting themselves up as the demon-gods of blood cults, but the tradition-minded frown on the practice. It strikes them as more suitable for Brahmins than for warriors.

Once a Rakshasa gains proficiency with Obfuscate, he may at least move among the kine unseen. Some Demons find solace in being near people. Others find that walking among mortals, unseen and ignored, makes them feel all the more isolated. A Rakshasa’s choice of havens expands, though, once he can enter and leave without fear of mortals seeing him.

Rakshasa tradition teaches childer to accept their complete separation from humanity, because they were never really human to begin with. Nevertheless, Demons who learn The Familiar Stranger often devote great effort to creating an ersatz mortal identity. Then a line member can dwell in a comfortable, somewhat public haven, with mitigated concerns of exposure (except for preventing mortals from seeing him asleep during the day). Demons take great pride in their power to pass for human. Rakshasas can spend years practicing their social graces with other vampires so that they can pose as gentlemen and ladies once they rejoin mortal society.

You Can’t Show Your Face In Public
Playing a Rakshasa (or any other vampire who cannot pass for human) presents special challenges. Such characters cannot interact with mortals as much as other vampires can. A number of strategies may help Rakshasas function when showing their face means breaking the Masquerade.

• Blood Cults: Some Hindu gods take a monstrous appearance at times. A daring Demon might be able to convince Indian immigrants that he’s an incarnation of a god, recruiting them to a blood cult. This gives the Rakshasa a pool of mortal lackeys, as well as a Herd. Running a blood cult takes as much work as running a business. Or a clever Demon might run his cult as a business, combining the roles of company owner and god.
• Concealment: Unfortunately, people who wear masks or bandages all the time attract more attention than a vampire would like. Wearing a ski mask and an oversized coat, and sticking to dark rooms and alleys may enable brief contact with mortals.
• Coteries: A Rakshasa really needs allies among other Kindred. A coterie can explain the customs and etiquette of western vampires, so the Demon won’t cause offense through ignorance. When a Rakshasa absolutely needs something done among mortals, it helps if he can ask another vampire to do it for him. A wise Rakshasa seeks every opportunity to do favors in advance, using whatever assets and abilities he has.
• Ghouls: A ghoul doesn’t care how his master looks. A Demon can use a ghoul Retainer as his proxy for dealing with mortals. Prudent Rakshasas treat their ghouls well (or at least watch them closely) to forestall any chance of resentment or rebellion. The danger is that a ghoul character may become more active and interesting than the vampire character.
• Urban Legend: Many regions have persistent legends of monstrous humanoid creatures such as the Mothman, the Jersey Devil or Spring-Heeled Jack. A clever vampire might deliberately create such a legend by showing himself to drunks or known tellers of tall tales, giving them a harmless scare and perhaps pulling an odd prank or two. Once the tale is established, the authorities probably discount any further reports of the vampire.

Warrior-Merchants
Rakshasas know how to fight. They prove it when they meet hostile receptions in the West. The Demons escape more often than not, and then take lethal revenge on their attackers before departing for some other city. Like most Nosferatu, they combine great strength with supernatural stealth, but Rakshasas add the bestial prowess of Protean as well.

When immigrants come to town, they don’t look for fights. They show utmost courtesy when petitioning a Prince for the right of residence. Quite often, they send a ghoul ahead to make an initial request. Once accepted into a Prince’s domain, Demons often go into business with the help of their servants.

Many Rakshasas plan to form a loose mercantile co-op, centered on India and extending around the world. Colonies usually include at least one Demon or ghoul who works to set up a shipping business. In addition to legitimate cargo, Rakshasa-owned companies smuggle everything from counterfeit clothing to pirated DVDs to people. The vampires form a small but growing syndicate within the billion-dollar racket of smuggling illegal migrants from Third World countries. The profits are secondary, however, to the experience gained at moving bodies covertly. The capabilities they develop at moving mortals help them move Kindred.

Rakshasas smuggle themselves along with mortal cargo, and offer the same services to Kindred who want to travel. They charge thousands of dollars for transportation (as well as promises of favors in return). A Rakshasa “travel agent” does his best to provide lightproof hiding places for sleeping through the day, and a ghoul steward to deal with emergencies, to bribe customs officials when necessary, and to see to a traveler’s comfort. Sometimes Demons send Kindred with a group of mortal migrants. The kine make excellent provisions along the way, and no one complains if a few don’t survive the trip. A long journey may require a partnership between Rakshasa shippers in different cities, but modern communications makes that easy to arrange.

As yet, only the most desperate Kindred entrust themselves to the hideous strangers from the East. Anyone who questions the Demons closely learns they haven’t perfected their travel arrangements. Kindred shipped around the world still face great danger from customs officials, accidental exposure to sunlight and other hazards. Not everyone shipped by a Demon survives. If the Rakshasas can perfect their techniques for smuggling vampires, the bloodline will have a powerful and precious service to vend.

Kindred who dig a little deeper find the Rakshasa network incongruous. Line members describe themselves as warriors — aristocrats, even — but India’s caste tradition does not regard commerce as a suitable occupation for knights or lords. The Rakshasas point out that moving people and goods is logistics, one of the military sciences. A Demon who engages in other sorts of commerce must also find some military aspect to it, or he loses the respect of his brood. Demons also claim that smuggling adds criminality to their work, and therefore an element of danger.

Modern India
The Rakshasas seen in western cities are a small fraction of the bloodline. Most stay on the Indian subcontinent, their culture, history and conflicts unseen and unknown to western Kindred. Their greatest strength lies in southern India. In their homeland, Rakshasas follow a quasi-feudal hierarchy, with ranks analogous to squires, knights and nobles.

• Rajah: All the Rakshasas of a province bow to an elder called a Rajah, who combines the role of Priscus with some powers of a Prince. The Rajah adjudicates disputes and orders punishments for members of the line. He also allocates hunting territories, along with promotions of rank. In many parts of southern India, the Rajah is a Prince for all practical purposes, and Kindred acknowledge his rule. In other provinces, the Rajah merely serves as leader and spokesman for local Rakshasas, with no authority over any other vampire.
  Occasionally, a Rakshasa gains enough power or reputation to force other Rajahs to swear fealty to her. These higher nobles adopt imperial titles such as Sultan or Nizam. The little “empire” may encompass several cities, but such a realm seldom lasts for more than a few decades before the difficulties of travel and command break it up. No Rakshasa in a thousand years has dared to call himself Maharajah. Only Ravana himself may claim the title of Demon Emperor.
• Nawab: Respected elder Rakshasas receive this aristocratic title. Nawabs, as the principle vassals of the Rajah, receive limited authority over young, low-ranked Demons. They allocate feeding territories and decide when a childe receives promotion to neonate status and full membership in the bloodline.
• Praharan: The title for the lowest rank of Rakshasa society translates variously as “fighter,” “hero,” “murderer,” “destroyer” or “debaser.” It corresponds loosely to a western neonate. A Rakshasa childe starts by serving his sire, much like he did as a ghoul, and remains almost a slave until his sire grants him the rank of Praharan. Sometimes, a Nawab or the Rajah himself may order a childe’s promotion if a sire is unreasonable in recognizing his progeny’s competence.
  A Praharan owes many duties to his sire, like a squire to a knight. The neonate must show respect; assist his sire in battle; tithe a fraction of any loot he acquires; and accept whatever feeding territory his sire grants, subject only to the will of the Rajah. War-loot matters less in modern nights than it once did. Modern Rakshasas observe the tradition by saying a Praharan must give his sire a cut of any profits, however obtained.
  Once a Rakshasa becomes a squire, he can petition a Nawab or Rajah to transfer his fealty from his sire to some other Demon. This is a small loss of face for the young vampire, since it implies disloyalty or weakness, but it also marks the sire as a martinet who treats childer as if they were mere ghouls. A proper knight shows respect for the warriors under his command.
• Rawal: A Rakshasa gains full independence and responsibility for his actions when a Rajah promotes him to Rawal, or knight. This never happens until a Demon learns the rudiments of Protean. Demons may have to wait decades for this promotion, making most of them ancillae by western standards. Neonates who cannot or will not accept their bloodline’s powers and costs remain squires forever, or risk expulsion to become Untouchable outcastes (unless some other Nosferatu bloodline adopts them).

Although India’s cities hold the greatest concentration of Rakshasas, line members depend less on urban prey than do many eastern Kindred. Once a Rakshasa learns the Haven of Soil power, he can hunt in India’s myriad villages, or out in the country. Demons esteem sojourns in the wilderness as tests of hunting skill and courage. Their willingness to travel extends Rakshasa domains from single cities to whole provinces. Kindred who fear being caught without a haven — even among India’s close-packed villages — often hire Rakshasa couriers when a mission is too important to entrust to a ghoul.

Not all Rakshasas can claim an equally prestigious heritage. The more generations back a Rakshasa can trace his private lineage, the more pure and noble is his blood. Other Nosferatu can petition to join the Rakshasas, but they never achieve any formal rank higher than a junior knighthood, and they never receive the same respect as a Rakshasa by Embrace. Indeed, their childer also receive less respect from elders. In southern India, any Rakshasa whose parentage in the bloodline extends back less than a thousand years may be derided as “new blood” by Demons with longer pedigrees.

And that’s why young Rakshasas leave the homeland. In the last 200 years, the bloodline has split into higher and lower subcastes. Conflicts with other clans and castes has weakened the bonds of loyalty. In province after province, the elite of “old Rakshasas” — or as they like to say, “true Rakshasas,” supposedly descended from Ravana or other legendary founders of the line — systematically exclude “new Rakshasas” from councils, deny them promotions, honors and financial opportunities, and assign them the worst hunting territories. Allies among Kindred Brahmins endorse the elders’ claims of pure blood and perpetual dominance.

Such insults outrage Demons of recent origins, especially neonates whose attitudes have been shaped by a century of mortal efforts to end the caste system. Night-time wars of assassination have erupted between Rakshasa factions as a result.

The Diaspora
As the civil war has escalated, some Rakshasas have decided they’ve had enough. Why waste their unlives fighting for scraps of hunting ground? Southern India isn’t the world. Mere mortals have left India in droves to seek their fortunes abroad. Should the heirs of Ravana, the greatest enemy of the gods, fear to follow? The first emigrants had tremendous courage. No vampire in memory had dared to cross oceans or continents. The success of survivors encouraged more to follow, including Muslim and Sikh Rakshasas grown weary with their second-class rank in Brahmin-dominated cities. Young Rakshasas often require the help of wealthier, older Demons to leave India and establish their companies. In return, they send shares of their profits back to their sponsors, enabling elders to fund still more emigrants. The expatriate network grows steadily.

As more Demons flee India, the old Rakshasa elite grows more afraid. Increasing numbers of Rakshasas plow their wealth and influence into the expatriate network. Who knows what allies might be imported from distant lands? Already, sponsors are known to make deals with strange foreign vampires. Other Kindred spread rumors that oppressed young subcastes plan a mass exodus once the travel system can handle dozens of vampires at a time. If the rumors prove true, hundreds of Rakshasas might surge into the West, scattering across dozens of cities. What might happen then is anyone’s guess.

Rakshasa Customs
In their millennial history, Demons have accumulated an elaborate, courtly culture, most of which expatriates leave behind. Along with the classic military virtues of courage, self-discipline and loyalty, Rakshasas esteem the arts and fine manners. A Demon who spent his living days as a mugger might work mightily to change his accent and at least pretend to appreciate painting and poetry. Rakshasas like to think of themselves as sophisticated monsters.

Each Rajah holds court once a month, typically at the dark of the moon. Rakshasas present their disputes, petition for hunting territories in a city, curry favor, and raise other concerns they feel deserve the bloodline’s attention. The assembly also makes deals and engages in the same sort of intrigue found in any Elysium or Prince’s court. Other Kindred may attend these courts if a Rakshasa sponsors them and takes responsibility for their conduct.

At least once a year, a Rajah hosts a spectacular party for his subjects. These gatherings combine religious rites, blood feasts, music, poetry recitations, contests of Discipline use, athletics and combat prowess. Participants flaunt their grotesquery through gaudy costumes, Obfuscate illusions or ornaments made from parts of their human or animal victims. No Rakshasa is compelled to attend a Rajah’s court, but the yearly festival is the best possible time and place for line members to meet, negotiate and scheme. The Rajah may grant knighthood or Nawab’s rank at the festival. Some Rajahs permit small numbers of other Kindred to attend — a very great honor, although any sponsoring Demon must ask his Rajah’s permission beforehand.

Sires generally wait for the festival to present their childer to the Rajah, acknowledging them as Rakshasas by blood, and to ask for a childe’s promotion to Praharan. Adopted Nosferatu are also inducted during the festival. A new childe stands in a circle of 10 flaming braziers. He recites the story of how Ravana meditated among 10 fires for ten thousand years, and at the end of each thousand years cut off one of his 10 heads and cast it into a fire as an offering to Shiva. Just as the Demon Emperor was about to cut off his final head and destroy himself, the god appeared to grant him the power he desired. As the recently Embraced vampire tells the story, he cuts himself nine times and shakes blood into the braziers. Just as he’s about to cut his own throat, his sire steps in, playing the role of Shiva, and proclaims him a true heir to Ravana. The presiding Rajah then gives the new Rakshasa a taste of his own potent blood, to initiate the vampire’s transition from ordinary Nosferatu to a member of the lineage. Nosferatu of non-Rakshasa origins require a more elaborate ceremony, in which the Rajah or a designated Nawab plays the role of Shiva, and assumes the duty of Avus to give the recruit blood.

The Protean Discipline not only helps distinguish Demons from other Nosferatu, it gives them greater freedom of movement than most Kindred. As a Rakshasa learns each new Protean power, he is expected to demonstrate it before his Rajah or a Nawab. No Rakshasa receives his commission as a Rawal before proving that he knows at least the rudiments of the Discipline. Tradition further holds that once a Demon learns the Haven of Soil power, he should spend a year in the country, hunting beasts and villagers. During this time, the Rakshasa is enjoined to reflect on his existence as a predator and a demonic force of chaos. The Demon also collects trophies of his exploits. This wanderjahr isn’t mandatory, but a Demon who puts it off too long or who cuts it short may gain a reputation for weakness.

Once a Rakshasa graduates to Rawal, he can accumulate other honors based on Disciplines learned, enemies or fierce animals slain (the bloodline has a tradition of hunting for sport as well as for sustenance), or on winning a Rajah’s favor. Each domain has its own system of honors, but titles often refer to gods and legendary Rakshasas. For instance, in Mysore province a Rakshasa who achieves five dots of Vigor is called a Valiant Son of Ravana, while a female Rakshasa who achieves five dots of Nightmare wins the title Handmaiden of Kali. Any Demon of Rawal or higher rank may be addressed as subhadra, or “strong-armed,” a traditional epithet for Ravana as a general term of respect.

Demons see nothing inconsistent in worshipping the gods they claim to oppose. They direct most of their worship to Shiva, the god of enlightenment and destruction, and to the deity’s roles as Rudra, the god of hunting, wild beasts and storms; Bhairava, “the Terrible”; and Mahakala, “Lord Time,” who brings destruction to all things. Ravana is said to have written a collection of hymns to Shiva that remains well known even among mortals. It’s the only known work of Indian Kindred literature to achieve this distinction. Rakshasas also worship Shiva’s consort Shakti in the form of the battle-goddess Durga, and Kali as the Death-Mother. And of course, they revere their progenitor Ravana.