Crúac

The Kindred are largely immune to the dangers of temperature, pressure and other conditions that would kill or cripple mortals. A vampire can still be affected by the most extreme conditions, though, such as arctic cold. This minor ritual maintains a balance within a vampire’s Vitae, never allowing it to become too hot, cold, compressed or otherwise hampered by the external world. Under the ritual’s protection, the vampire suffers no dice-pool penalties due to climactic conditions or extremes.

This benefit does not extend to conditions that would actually cause injury or damage, such as sunlight. Nor does it eliminate wound penalties.

The ritual’s effects last until the next sunrise.

With the presence and power of her own Vitae, a ritualist can observe what happens in the vicinity of blood she leaves behind during the performance of this ritual. The performer must spend the standard one Vitae to complete the ritual, plus another Vitae (or possibly more) to bear witness at the site to be watched. The Vitae left behind must come from the performer, whether it’s vomited up, spilled from the wrists or via some other means. The blood may be dribbled on a floor, soaked into a rug, painted onto a wall or otherwise applied as the performer sees fit. However the blood is left behind, it remains as detectable as any ordinary blood. If it’s scrubbed away, the power of this ritual is broken.

For one full night per Vitae spent, the character invoking the ritual gains the ability to witness events at the location as though she were present and standing in whatever spot she had marked with her Vitae. If the character creates a trail of blood around a room, for example, she may later observe the room from any point on that “circuit.” Because the seer isn’t actually present at the location, she may even observe events that occur during the day — the images come to her in an achingly vivid dream while she sleeps. Some Acolytes use this ritual just to gain a glimpse of their own gardens in the sunshine. Seers are still subject to the Rötschreck, however, as the Beast panics in the light of the sun. Observers who succumb to the fear frenzy do not actually lose control of themselves, but do lose their connection to the Vitae they’ve used in this ritual. While the seer is watching through her blood connection, she is unable to see or hear through her own body.

The boundaries of this power are limited. Only one arcane connection can be employed by any single character at one time, even if multiple Vitae are spent on that connection. Multiple Vitae can be used to widen the area of observance, at one Vitae per room included. Vitae may be deposited in a vehicle, so the observer becomes a clairvoyant passenger. If the distance between the character and the Vitae exceeds 10 times the sorcerer’s Blood Potency in miles, the mystic connection breaks.

The observer’s perception is limited through the mystical connection, but not by physical barriers the character can see around. If a rug is laid down over the blood she leaves behind, she sees as if she stood on that rug. If a door is closed between her Vitae and another room, she doesn’t gain any power to see through it, but may hear sounds that come through it. Her powers of perception depend on her supernatural prowess. The number of successes on the Crúac roll becomes the number of successes she scores on all attempted actions to perceive the world through her arcane connection (such as Wits + Composure or Wits + a certain Skill; see p. 46 of the World of Darkness rulebook for details).

The testimony of the blood witness is affected by environmental impediments like darkness and smoke just as ordinary vision is affected. No other Disciplines may be used through the blood connection, so a character may not employ Heightened Senses, for example.

Tribulation brings enlightenment. Acolytes may surrender an advantage to glean more from their troubles, and there are several Crúac rituals that help put this philosophy into action. This is one of the simplest, removing the possibility of a lucky break for a time in exchange for a dose of insight and, thus, self-confidence. Once this ritual is complete, the ritualist loses the benefits of the 10-again roll for the rest of the scene. At the end of the scene, she regains one Willpower point. This ritual affords the character no ability to possess more Willpower points than her normal maximum.

The ritualist allows a few drops of Vitae to fall into a vessel of water while concentrating on a future action for that night or current circumstance. The blood forms patterns in the water that convey important information about the situation. The number of successes on the activation roll determines the clarity and usefulness of the vision imparted. On an exceptional success, the blood may form recognizable figures and play out a short scene, whereas a single success might net only two abstract figures symbolizing important factions involved in the situation.

This prophetic image grants a +2 bonus on any dice pools to investigate or research the imagery revealed by the ritual.

Prophetic Crúac
This chapter contains a number of Crúac rituals that allow some degree of prophecy. These need to be handled carefully. First, these rituals do not, strictly, foretell the future. Rather, they provide important information about the present that the sorcerer may not otherwise be able to see. Crúac prophesies tell the ritualist what is important now, but not what will happen tomorrow.

Second, you should account for these rituals when designing stories. Consider what clues a prophecy might reveal to help keep the scenario moving along without short-circuiting it. These rituals do not explain why something is important, only that it is important. So direct the diviner to look in the right place, rather than simply supplying answers. Many of these rituals are an excellent way for you to start stories, by dropping an important clue in the coterie’s lap. In such cases, the ritual might be a bit clearer than the number of successes would typically indicate.

When in doubt, if nothing else seems to work, a prophesied action can be granted bonus dice as a reflection of the sorcerer’s heightened awareness of the circumstances and potential outcomes of her action.

Using the same ritual repeatedly gives the same answer every time, until something happens to change the present situation substantially.

The ritualist turns her blood toward the process of artistic creation. For the rest of the night, she gains a number of bonus dice equal to her dots in Crúac on all Craft or Expression dice pools to create a particular work of art. The artwork must be specified at the time the ritual is performed. If creation is an extended action, the bonus applies to every roll made that night. The ritualist suffers a penalty equal to the bonus on all Craft or Expression dice pools to create anything other than the specified artwork; ideas for her artistic creation are burning her up, and she cannot concentrate on anything else but her mystically charged idea.

Another version of this ritual exists that can be cast upon others, rather than invoked on the sorceress herself. The roll to activate this counterpart ritual is penalized by the subject’s Composure.

The Sethites recognize that many locales bear the mark of Typhon Seth. They’re places of ill-omen: shorelines where ghost-villages appear by night, murder houses, graveyards and other places where the borders between the real world and the place of spirits and ghosts are thin. Using this ritual, a Sethite promotes chaos by increasing the supernatural ambience of a place. The Sethite leaves a tiny smear of Vitae somewhere on or near the location, for example on a rock, a piece of furniture or a wall.

A room goes cold. If outside, it starts to drizzle filthy, foul-smelling rain. Witch-fire plays around the trees. Apparitions flicker in and out of vision in the corner of one’s eye. Rot and mold spontaneously appear. Urban decay appears briefly to accelerate. All Social dice pools are penalized by -1, apart from Intimidation, which instead gains a +1 bonus.

This effect lasts for a scene.

The sorcerer causes feelings of intense hunger in a subject, who must be within sight. The afflicted subject feels the desire to eat or feed. Activation involves a contested roll against the subject’s Composure + Blood Potency, and resistance is reflexive. If the performer gets the most successes, the victim avails himself of any sustenance available. A mortal even eats raw meat, though he doesn’t resort to such dire acts as cannibalism or drinking blood. Kindred might attack nearby vessels or even fellow vampires if their hunger is severe enough to make them frenzy. Even after he eats or feeds, a subject’s rapacity does not subside until the effects of the ritual pass. (Vampires affected by this ritual are considered “starving” for the purposes of resisting frenzy; see p. 179.)

With the power of this ritual, a vampire may temporarily interrupt the reanimating effect of vampiric Vitae, rendering a Kindred immobile as the stiffening of muscles common to dead bodies takes hold. The number of successes garnered on the Crúac roll determines the number of dice by which the victim’s next Physical dice pool is penalized. This applies only to dice pools for actions, and does not affect Physical resistances. Rigor Mortis is useless against mortals, ghouls, Lupines and mages, since they don’t depend on the power of vampiric Vitae to animate their bodies.

The roll to activate this power is penalized by the subject’s Composure.

Ritual of of the Kinnaree

Throughout the stories of the Thai people, devotees of the Devi would perform rituals of sacrifice in the hopes of receiving blessings from their patrons. Rather than one specific ritual, the Tapas are a suite of rituals used to grant the penitent bonuses to certain dice pools depending on which spirit receives the sacrifice. The bonus lasts for one scene, but each one must be purchased as a separate ritual to a different member of the pantheon; three examples are listed below.

Tapas to Ma Durga: Calling out to the destroyer of demons, a petitioner must make an offering of the precious blood from her own tongue without showing signs of pain or suffering. This does not cause any damage, but requires a Resolve + Composure roll to resist a display of pain (add any dots in the Iron Stamina Merit to this pool). On successful activation of the ritual, Ma Durga grants the penitent two dice to any Weaponry roll that pertains to swords, Durga’s preferred weapon.

Tapas to Brahma: Like Shurpanakha’s wicked brother, a petitioner calls out to Shiva and stands on one foot for a full turn. Upon successful activation of the ritual, the penitent is gifted with a bonus of two dice to Politics rolls, or three dice for Politics rolls involving conquest or political domination.

Tapas to Hannuman: The King of the Monkeys was a great friend of Lord Rama, and a master of beasts. A penitent seeking Hannuman’s boon must symbolically break the neck of a hog or boar; this can be as simple as drawing a picture of the animal and tearing the paper in half. Upon successful activation of the ritual, the penitent receives a bonus of two dice to all Animal Ken rolls for a scene.

The ritualist must perform this ritual immediately before feeding from a vessel. While feeding, she learns one piece of personal information about the vessel — one thing the vessel feels is of immediate importance. On a dramatic failure, the vessel learns the piece of personal information about the vampire that she feels is of most immediate importance. This ritual works on supernatural creatures just as well as on mortals, as long as the creature has Vitae to drink. The piece of information gleaned through this ritual is gained in place of one Vitae.

The roll to activate this power is penalized by the subject’s Resolve.

To perform this prophetic ritual, an Acolyte smears a quantity of her own Vitae on her face before lying down to sleep for the day. As the hours of daylight pass, the Blood is transformed into a thin membrane that attaches itself to the flesh of her head. When she wakes, the Acolyte tears the membrane away, seeing the likeness of an individual who may be important to her situation from the shape, texture and pattern of dark and light spots on the skin in the moments before it collapses into ash. The number of successes on the activation roll determines the clarity and usefulness of the vision imparted. On an exceptional success, the shape of the torn membrane and the pattern of spots on it may form recognizable features of a face that even appears to move and mouth a few relevant words as the dead skin disintegrates; whereas a single success might only show an abstract representation symbolizing the individual’s name or affiliation.

This reading grants a +2 dice bonus on any dice pools to locate or identify the individual in question in the future. If the character using The Boyar’s Caul has Auspex, it may be applied to rolls made in an attempt to spot an obfuscated subject.

Note that the Acolyte has no control over who the Caul selects. The subject revealed is someone who is currently important to the Acolyte’s situation (whether friend or foe), and one who the Acolyte might wish to seek out. The subject of the ritual is chosen at the Storyteller’s discretion.

When this ritual is correctly performed, the subject appears to age 10 years. No physical impairment, no joint pain, memory lapses or hearing loss accompany this alteration. But skin sags and wrinkles, hair grays and recedes and flesh loses the vibrant tones of youth. The transformation lasts a number of nights equal to the successes achieved on the activation roll, then gradually reverses at about the rate of one year per hour. Repeated uses of the rite add more decades, up to a maximum apparent difference of 50 years.

Some Princes forbid the use of Visage of the Crone (if they’re aware of the ritual) declaring that it’s a Masquerade risk to instantly age a mortal in front of witnesses. The Acolyte counterargument is that the ritual’s proper use maintains the Masquerade, as Visage of the Crone enables ghouls and Kindred to appear to age as they ought (though admittedly this takes some effort).

Certain Acolytes in California have a similar ritual that causes an apparent reversal of age, down to a minimum apparent age of about 20 years old. While the ritual is in high demand among vain mortals, it’s intensely painful: the subject suffers no physical damage, but he has to be cut free of his own skin, like a snake. This ritual is called Pythian Renewal.

The roll to activate this power is penalized by the subject’s Stamina.

Amemet, a demon combining the attributes of hippopotamus, lion and crocodile, devoured the souls of the wicked; none could escape him. The Sethite who invokes Amemet takes on the role of patient pursuer. She lays a curse upon her victim, smearing blood on a small effigy. This done, whichever way the victim flees, he runsstraight into the arms of the Sethite. He leaves a room, and finds himself running back in. He turns a corner, and the next thing he knows, he’s turned 180 degrees and he’s traveling right back down the street, right back to where the smiling vampire awaits.

The activation roll for this ritual is contested by a reflexive roll of the target’s Wits + Composure + Blood Potency. If the caster rolls the most successes, the next time the victim tries to run away from her, he runs in her direction. She need not move, only wait for him to arrive. The power lasts for a scene.

This defensive ritual is used to mark an Acolyte’s territory and prevent entry by unwanted Kindred. To perform this ritual, the character draws lines of his Vitae across doorways, underneath windows or anywhere else she wishes to ward. One Vitae is necessary for each portal to be protected, in addition to the Vitae spent to complete the ritual itself. Multiple barriers may be created with a single activation roll, provided all barriers protect a single room or space and are linked by solid walls. The character can also define areas to be protected by painting circles or other shapes on a floor using Vitae. For this purpose, one Vitae is sufficient to create standing room for two average-sized people. The Vitae to be used can be donated by any willing or unwilling vampires.

Vampires with Blood Potency less than that of the Vitae used in the creation of the sanguine perimeter cannot voluntarily cross without making a Resolve + Composure roll and scoring more successes than were scored on the initial roll to create the barrier. Regardless, any Kindred crossing the barrier suffers bashing damage equal to the successes scored on the Crúac roll, minus his Defense.

The performer of this ritual must touch any Kindred permitted to pass the barrier before the barrier has been completely drawn. Kindred with permission ignore all effects of the Barrier of Blood, as does the sorcerer who cast it. The Barrier of Blood lasts for 24 hours.

The Rite of the Bloody Crossroads is a divination that predicts what Kindred are coming to a certain area from outside its boundaries. The region can be defined as an area as small as a haven or as large as Chicago or anything between (making it quite versatile). The rite provides fairly vague and symbolic portents, revealing immaterial factors like the vampire’s motives, desires and drives (“He comes with blood in his mouth, in search of black hair and blue eyes …”). On the other hand, this rite also provides a fairly concrete feel for the road by which the stranger will enter (“Evil comes across the Skyway — tonight.”). The ritual only senses approaching vampires and only works within the Chicago city limits.

The larger the boundary specified, the larger the penalty to the blood sorcerer’s activation roll. Divining visitors to a single building imposes no penalty, while divinations centered on a neighborhood might suffer a –3 penalty and divinations focused on a whole city would suffer a –5 penalty.

The information gleaned from the divination is often vague and difficult to understand. Some ritualists receive flashes of imagery and sound that are too intense to recall easily, but others reveal information in a voice that is not their own. Investigation or Occult rolls may be made to puzzle out the meaning of prophetic imagery, at the Storyteller’s discretion.

In general, the more successes achieved on the activation roll, the further the reach of the divination in space or time. As a general guidelines, one success equals one mile or one night. If a vampire within the power’s range is headed for the specified area, the ritualist receives a glimpse of her; alternately, if a vampire will arrive at the specified area within a number of nights equal to the successes achieved, the ritualist receives some sign.

This ritual imbues a male caster or target with sexual potency and fertility until he next sleeps. He can participate in and enjoy sexual relations normally, and his fertility is supernaturally enhanced—all such unions will prove fertile (see above for the implications of this). It is little known, but this ritual has an identical effect upon female vampires. The symbolism and ritual is so obviously male that few realize this, but it imbues a female with the power to impregnate others.

This ritual allows the performer to “ride the senses” of his subject. The subject must be within direct sight when the ritual is performed, but the subject can stray from the caster to any distance thereafter. At any time he wishes for the duration of the effect, the performer may see or hear through the eyes or ears of his subject. No other senses can be substituted — if the subject is blind or deaf or both, all “riding” yields is blackness and/or silence. A subject so “ridden” is unaware that his senses also report to another.

While riding another’s senses, the ritualist is only dimly aware of her own body, which falls into on a trance-like state. She is unaware of minor environmental stimuli affecting her own body (such as an insect crawling across her skin or drops of water falling on her head), but more aggressive actions perpetrated against her body draw her consciousness back to it.

This ritual remains in effect for one night per success on the invocation roll, though the caster may end the ritual at any time. The performer can therefore indulge in a subject’s senses and return to her own body as often as she likes throughout the rite’s duration.

The roll to activate this power is penalized by the subject’s Composure.

The Rite of the Circle Path is more subtle and mysterious. It is cast with a particular goal or object in mind, and, when successful, provides a vision of a traveler (human, Kindred or other) who can aid in the pursuit of that goal or who will come to possess the object in question at some point in the future. Unfortunately, this ritual only reveals the fateful connections between people and events or objects, but not when, how or why the connections exist. Thus, anyone coming to Chicago may, in all ignorance, be the tool the Circle has been awaiting for years, and neither the Acolytes nor the fated subject could encounter each other for years.

The power of this ritual does infuse the blood sorcerer with an intuitive sense of the subject, however. Should the ritualist find herself within a number of yards of the subject equal to 20 plus twice the successes achieved on the activation roll — or within sight of him — she may attempt a Wits + Composure roll with a +2 bonus to sense the subject’s connection to her divination. This intuition is entirely mystical; the ritualist does not have to consciously recognize the subject to make the roll.

This ritual works only in the city of Chicago. It can be successfully performed only once per year for any particular object or goal.

Ritual of of the Kinnaree

In the Ramakien, Shurpanakha used her demonic magic in order to transform herself into a beautiful maiden so that she might seduce Lord Rama. The Kinnaree say that the story is backwards. They claim that the lovely virgin with her long nails used blood magic to transform her child-like form into that of a potbellied, cross-eyed monster of a hag. Using this horrible visage, she terrified Lord Rama so he would be more apt to war against her brother Ravan. By smearing their lovely young skin with blood and the waste of animals, the Kinnaree becomes hideous and terrible. Modern Acolytes have found that they can perform the ritual without the excrement, but traditionalists scoff at the deviation.

Successfully enacting the ritual costs the ritualist her ability to use Socialize or Persuasion on mortals for the remainder of the night, but in exchange, she gains her level of Crúac as a bonus to Intimidation rolls. Any aggressors against the Kinnaree suffer an Initiative penalty equal to the caster’s Crúac as well. The character can also, by spending an additional point of Vitae, extend her fingernails out into wicked-looking curved claws. These claws inflict 1L damage in combat, but on a dramatic failure they snap, causing a point of lethal damage to the Kinnarree.

In times of war, many of the Yagnatia carry a braid of hawthorn branches, specially prepared by this ritual. It is used to halt the advance of a Kindred enemy, even if only for a moment — but that can be enough to turn the tide of battle.

To prepare for this ritual, an Acolyte must first grow a Hawthorn Mandragore infused with Kindred Vitae, entwining and braiding the branches as they grow. In winter, when the thorned branches are without leaves, the braided segments (each about six inches long and half an inch around) are cut away and dried.

To perform the ritual, the Acolyte must grasp the braid tightly, allowing the thorns to pierce his flesh and bleeding a few drops of his Vitae onto them. If he then throws the braid on the ground, it creates an invisible barrier to vampires that extends outwards about one foot from each end, creating a space effectively two and a half feet wide that no Kindred can easily pass.

Vampires with Blood Potency less than that used to activate the Hawthorn Barrier cannot voluntarily pass through it without making a Resolve + Composure roll and scoring more successes than were attained on the ritual’s activate roll. Those with higher Blood Potency may freely cross. Regardless, any vampire stepping through the mystic barrier suffers bashing damage equal to the successes scored on the Crúac roll, minus his Defense.

The Hawthorn Barrier lasts for one minute per success scored on the activation roll.

This ritual is believed to compel a particular spirit to appear before the ritualist. The spirit is named three times during the ritual, and appears as its name is spoken the third time. The ritual does not provide any control over the spirit, but as the spirit appears in physical form, physical defenses are effective.

The ritual actually makes it possible for a spirit to manifest in the physical world, taking on a physical form. Any one spirit present may do so, and may choose the form it takes freely, even if it is normally restricted to appearing in a single form. If multiple spirits want to manifest, a contested Power + Finesse roll determines which one manages to take advantage of the ritual’s power. A manifested spirit can use its traits to affect the physical world, but mundane weapons can cause Corpus damage to the spirit. The spirit can stay manifested for a number of hours equal to the successes on the ritual’s activation roll.

Except as noted above, this ritual allows a spirit to use the Materialize Numen, whether or not it has that Numen normally.

With this power, the ritualist enhances the blessed virtue of unbroken skin. Any attack or source of injury that would break the surface of the subject’s flesh has its edge turned away at the moment of impact, rendering slashes and piercings of the flesh into blunt, shallow injuries. The number of successes scored on the activation roll becomes the Rating of a kind of mystical armor that clings to the subject’s flesh like sweat. This armor has no Defense penalty or Strength requirement, but it persists only for a number of turns equal to the ritualist’s dots in Crúac. Maiden Skin only protects against attacks that break the skin; fire, blunt trauma and falling damage (among many other sources of damage) are unaffected.

The ritualist creates a work of art (see p. 58 of the World of Darkness Rulebook), incorporating at least one Vitae into the substance of the work. This is easiest to do with paints, hence the common title of the ritual, but possible with most plastic art forms. The work of art must depict a frightening situation, or depict an object or place as frightening.

Anyone who sees the artwork must make a Composure + Blood Potency roll, with a difficulty number equal to the number of Vitae expended in creation. If the roll fails, the viewer is struck with a minor phobia (as the derangement) of whatever the painting shows.

The power of the artwork lasts for one night for every success on the Crúac roll, but the ritualist herself can reactivate the power at any time by expending a single Vitae. Each Vitae used reactivates the power until the next sunset. Phobias inspired by the artwork last until the power lapses; an Acolyte who spent an additional Vitae every evening could keep them going for years, in principle.

The creator is not immune to her own work, but does receive a +5 bonus on the resistance roll. The artwork cannot inspire a phobia of the viewer himself; thus, a specific individual depicted in a painting is immune to its effects. A white man is vulnerable to an artwork inspiring fear of white people; he gains a phobia about all other white people.

By seeding the ground with her blood, the ritualist curses those who would tread on it. Any character or creature that moves within a space around the sorceress equal to twice her Crúac dots in yards becomes the subject of an immediate attack from a dice pool equal to the successes scored on the ritual’s activation roll. Defense provides no benefit against this attack, but armor does. The attack comes from phantom thorns and brambles that slice like razor blades and pierce like syringes. Creatures within the ritual’s area of effect can avoid being attacked by moving two or fewer yards per turn. Characters who Dodge within this area are automatically attacked by the phantom thorns, too, though any individual creature can only be attacked by the thorns once per turn.

This ritual’s effects last for a number of turns equal to the sorceress’s dots in Crúac. The ritualist is not immune to her own Path of Thorns, but she can attempt a reflexive Dexterity + Occult roll to move her Speed through the area without being attacked by her own phantom thorns.

With this ritual, a Savage cultist can become a preternaturally gifted tracker. The ritual helps “mark” a target, be it living or vampire, supernaturally infecting their blood with some element that the Gangrel can feel at the back of his mind: a faint tickle, the sound of wind whipping, the feel of a tongue on brain tissue. The elemental feeling increases when in proximity to the marked target. This means that the Gangrel gains substantial bonuses when attempting to track this marked individual. Survival rolls made to track the target gain a +4 bonus. This lasts for a number of nights equal to the Savage’s own Resolve score.

If the Savage attempts to track a vampire, however, the roll to mark the blood of the Damned is penalized by that vampire’s Blood Potency score unless the target Damned is aware of the ritual attempt and approves its use (meaning, the character could mark the blood of a pack or cult mate as long as they know and agree, and the penalty would therefore not apply).

The mind does not survive torpor easily. Nightmares besiege the unconscious. Memories twist and tangle like a wall of swiftly-growing vines. Elements submerge beneath a demented fog. But for those who know this ritual, sacrifice can make it all better. The vampire must first blood-let an animal, human or vampire, inflicting a number of lethal points of damage equal to the character’s Blood Potency score (yes, this may kill the creature). The blood must be spilled into a censor, where it is mingled with the vampire’s own Vitae and then burned. As the acrid smoke rises, the vampire must whisper entreaties to Ianus, beseeching the god to look backward through the vampire’s Requiem for some kind of clarity. For the remainder of the night, the vampire’s mind is not given over to the fog of eternity, and she can remember everything about her Requiem without having to overcome torpid dementia (though the Storyteller may still require an Intelligence + Composure roll to remember certain things).

This ritual has a few restrictions. First, all the blood sacrificed to Ianus must come from a single creature. So, vampires of higher Blood Potency must sacrifice larger and larger animals… or, of course, humans. Second, the vampire may only cast this ritual once per week, with the exception being during the month of January (Ianus’s month, the beginning and end of the year). During January, the ritual can be applied every night.

If the vampire chooses to sacrifice another vampire, however, the effects of this ritual last a full week instead of one night.

This ritual focuses the occult power of the blood and stores it, much like Vitae Reliquary. Unlike that simpler spell, it does not merely make the blood available as blood. It makes it available as a raw force of will.

When the ritual is performed, it infuses energy into the offering object. When that object is used (often kissed, broken or swallowed), it adds two dice to one Theban Sorcery roll. The object (typically a pendant or ring — it can be anything with a pearl on it) is consumed through use. The object can be used by any Sanctified ritualist, not just the sorcerer who empowered it.

Offering: A pearl and a blood sacrifice of two Vitae

This ritual allows the ritualist to put a bit of her very soul into a work of art. Soul’s Work can only be used when creating a work of art through an extended action, and must be cast immediately after the final roll of that extended action. If the ritual is successful, the Acolyte successfully instills a single point of her Willpower into the artwork. With an exceptional success, two points of Willpower are invested into the artwork. These Willpower points no longer count towards the character’s total.

To use a Willpower point invested in her art, the ritualist must engage the artwork according to its form — a painting must be viewed, jewelry worn, music heard. Only the ritualist may use Willpower points she has instilled in the Soul’s Work. Once the last Willpower point in the artwork has been used, the piece fades, cracks or is otherwise damaged. This does not utterly destroy the piece, but instead renders it a broken remainder of what it once was.

A sorcerer may only have one Soul’s Work in existence at a time.

This rite allows the ritualist to store more Vitae in her system, but at a disgusting cost: the extra blood is not carried efficiently in her veins, but in bulging, fleshy sacs the size of softballs in her major lymph nodes. For each success rolled, a Vitae is forced into the vampire’s limbic system, where one taut and glistening pustule forms and the Vitae is stored above and beyond the normal limits of Blood Potency. The Vitae contained in a Succulent Bubo may be used by the ritualist herself or drained by a biting vampire. The ritualist cannot divert more Vitae to these pustules than she currently has in her system, no matter how many successes she rolls. When she chooses to spend Vitae, she can spend it either from buboes or from her normal pool of Vitae. Vitae she consumes can only fill her regular Vitae capacity; this ritual only transfers blood from the ritualist’s own body to her own buboes.

The buboes form, similar to those from bubonic plague, along the neck, in the armpits or in the groin. While the buboes are awkward and uncomfortable, they don’t meaningfully impair the vampire’s movements. If the pustules are visible (either to the naked eye or as bulges in clothing), they may penalize Social rolls.

Nothing is more dangerous to a vampire roaming the world than the burning kiss of sunlight. A temporary haven is never truly safe, not when a single hole in a wall can let in the sun, or an invading witch hunter can tear away a protective curtain. While this ritual cannot guarantee any kind of safety, it can give a vampire an extra moment of grace when disaster strikes, perhaps allowing her a chance to scramble to safety. Her Vitae becomes preternaturally sensitive to changes in surrounding light levels, and pounds quickly through her veins should she be forced to wake during the day.

The successes achieved on the invocation roll are added to any Wits roll made to wake during the day, as long as the circumstances involve exposure to sunlight. A ghoul sneaking into the vampire’s haven and stealing documents doesn’t trigger the benefit, but if the ghoul then attempts to let in the light, the bonus is added to your Wits pool (+ Auspex dots, if any). The bonus dice are also added to the Humanity roll to determine how long the vampire can remain active upon waking. The effects of the ritual last until the next sunset, even if the caster is forced to wake several times during the day.

By invoking this ritual, the performer protects himself from would-be diablerists and from those who would otherwise feast upon his blood. This ritual transforms the sorcerer’s Vitae into a kind of poison. Kindred who drink it suffer one point of lethal damage for every Vitae consumed; mortals who imbibe suffer two points of lethal damage for each Vitae. When a Kindted consumes a quantity of venomous Vitae, she cains no nourishment from it.

Vitae altered by this ritual is poisonous only so long as it’s in the performer’s body (or until the next sunrise). If the Vitae leaves, it becomes as any other Vitae spilled from a Kindred’s body. Thus, it cannot be used to create poi- soned weapons, and if one consumes the Vitae from a con- tainer after it leaves the body, it is simply normal, non- poisonous Vitae.

This rite is a useful defense against meddling mortals in the best of times, and potentially deadly to them at the worst. What it does is extend the preternatural slumber of the subject vampire to the next mortal or ghoul to get within three yards of the sleeping subject Kindred. The first mortal to approach the subject while the ritual is active must make a Resolve + Stamina roll, with the Composure and current Blood Potency of the subject (accounting for diminishment over time) as a penalty to the roll. If the mortal fails, he falls asleep and cannot be awakened until the Kindred wakes or is destroyed. Thus, if Trap of Slumber is cast on a torpid Kindred, a mortal victim could sleep through starvation and into death.

A single activation of Trap of Slumber affects only a single mortal or ghoul victim, but persists until the ritual has been successfully triggered (that is, until one victim has fallen into slumber) or until the subject awakes. A single vampire can be the subject of one Trap of Slumber equal to her Composure. Multiple “layers” of this ritual do not require a single victim to resist each Trap of Slumber. Rather, each instance of the ritual allows a subsequent victim to be affected.

Offering: A crumb of discharged eye matter — what ritualists call “sleep sand” — from a living mortal

Upon successfully activating the ritual, the ritualist enters a creative trance for a number of hours equal to 6 – his Crúac dots, producing a work of art in his favored medium. While creating the artwork, the ritualist is not truly aware of what he is doing. When he comes out of his trance, he finds that he has created a puzzling work of divination. When first viewed, its meaning is indecipherable (though the artwork grants a +3 bonus to Empathy or Investigation dice pools to scrutinize or analyse the artist). The work’s meaning becomes evident to the artist later when, in the heat of some later moment, he experiences a flash of insight revealing what risk or opportunity the artwork was presaging.

In game terms, the ritualist may re-roll any one failed dice pool on the same night that his soulful work is created. The results of this re-roll must be used, even if they are less desirable than the initial roll’s results. Only instance of this ritual can be in effect for the caster at one time.

“Deodand” is an archaic British legal term that applies to any object used in an unlawful killing. (Some nobles were entitled to claim deodands from crimes committed on their land as a fine.) To use this ritual, the sorcerer must obtain an item used to kill someone, e.g. a hangman’s noose, a killer’s knife or the gun that fired the fatal shot. When the ritual is performed over the item, it forms a mystic link with the ritualist. If the item is used again, the ritualist gains one Vitae from every subject wounded by the deodand. Distance doesn’t matter, but the weapon must be used within a number of nights equal to the successes achieved on the activation roll. Likewise, for each success scored on the activation roll, the weapon can feed its master one additional time. A Beloved Deodand can only draw one Vitae from each individual victim of the weapon per casting.

Some Acolytes use these weapons themselves, as an efficient way to feed during a fight. Others find it meaningful to create them and release them, with serene faith that tools of ill omen tend to get used again and again.

Beloved Deodands do not drain Vitae from Kindred, but living supernatural creatures are typically affected. The Vitae collected through a Beloved Deodand is “neutral” — it does not count toward Vinculum and it carries no supernatural augmentation in the case of, for example, werewolf blood.

The performer invokes a mystic protection against attempts to impale her heart with a stake. If the ritual succeeds, any attempt to stake the vampire fails for the duration of the spell. Stakes used in this manner rot or disintegrate as wielders attempt to use them against the performer. An attempt to stake the Kindred in question must be made for this ritual to take effect. (It does not simply rot all stakes and would-be stakes in her presence.) This power cannot be invoked to protect others; it works only on the sorcerer herself. This ritual fades at sundown of the subsequent night, though it may be invoked again immediately thereafter.

When the body enters torpor, the vampire’s mind is awash in fog and nightmare — but what if it was active? Able to see the world? This ritual ensures that the vampire can watch the world change while her body remains torpid, whether for one night or one century. It necessitates, however, casting the ritual before torpor occurs, which can be a bit tricky to guess (which leaves some vampires casting this ritual “just in case”). First, the vampire must slumber beneath a door frame, gateway, archway or other portal. When she awakens the following evening, she may cast this ritual by spilling her own Vitae upon the floor along with some bits of hair from a chosen target. If the vampire enters torpor during the next 30 nights, her mind transfers away from her slumbering form and enters the mind of the chosen target. The target must be willing to accommodate the vampire’s conscious mind, however. If the target is unwilling, he’ll notice and can spend a point of Willpower to eject the vampire’s consciousness back into her torpid body. The target can be forced into willingness, as it were, using Dominate or Majesty.

While in the target’s mind, the vampire can choose two senses to share with the target for the duration. The vampire can communicate with the target and the target can communicate back, but this achieves another level when the target sleeps — the two may meet in the theater of the mind, face-to-face in dreams and nightmares.

This lasts for as long as the vampire is in torpor, or until the target ejects the vampire by spending a point of Willpower. If the target dies, the vampire goes back to her body. The vampire may not access any Disciplines or make any rolls other than Social rolls (used against the target).

This ritual does nothing for the Fog of Eternity when the vampire awakens from slumber — the events that occurred before torpor may be obscured by broken memory. But the vampire can clearly remember everything witnessed while in the mind of the target.

At the climax of this ritual, the ritualist kills one of her own Retainers, without drinking his blood. The Retainer Merit is immediately lost. (If it would take more than simple murder to destroy the Retainer, the ritualist must do whatever it takes — she must genuinely sacrifice the Retainer to complete this ritual.)

The ritualist immediately gains a number of temporary dots equal to the rating of the Retainer. These may be applied to any Attribute or Skill possessed by the Retainer, even taking them above the normal limit determined by her Blood Potency. The dots may be spread among different traits. With Storyteller approval, the ritualist may also apply the dots to Mental or Physical Merits formerly possessed by the Retainer. These bonus dots may never be applied to Disciplines or any other supernatural abilities, even if the Retainer possessed them. These bonus dots last for one night per dot the sacrificed Retainer Merit was worth.

Alternately, the ritualist may choose to re-spend experience points that were previously spent on the sacrificed Retainer Merit to permanently raise any Attribute or Skill the Retainer possessed at a level higher than the ritualist. Experience points not immediately re-spent are lost.

The roll to activate this power is penalized by the higher of the subject’s Stamina or Resolve.

Example: An Acolyte sorcerer sacrifices her lawyer, a ••• Retainer, in preparation for facing a highly persuasive opponent. The vampire uses the three dots from her sacrificed Retainer to boost her Composure from its normal • to ••••. Alternately, she could “cash out” the 12 experience points paid for her Retainer and use 10 of them buy a permanent second dot of Composure. The remaining two experience points are lost

This ritual prepares a vampire female to carry a child, and renders her fertile until she next sleeps. She is fully able to conceive after relations with a mortal. See above for the difficulties and special rules for a pregnant vampire.

Knowledge of this ritual has been passed down from the most ancient vampires, according to those Acolytes who use and teach this horticultural rite. With it, a character grows a unique species of red lily said to have been brought back from Hades by Persephone. The flower grows only in mortal blood — which must be supplied in total at the start of ritual — but is traditionally grown from a human corpse. To raise a Flower of Demeter, the sorcerer’s player must make a successful invocation roll once per week until the three successes necessary to satisfy the roll have been accumulated. (In this case, the extended action happens over the course of a week or weeks, not turns as is normally specified by Crúac rituals.) Over this time, the stalk of the plant grows slowly taller and taller from the ground or corpse that supplies its blood, up to a height of about six feet. Once the three successes have been garnered, the Vitae of the Acolyte brings the flowers to bloom. One bud on the stalk blooms per dot of the character’s Blood Potency, less one per week it took to cultivate the stalk, with a minimum of one.

The plant itself is inspiring to Kindred in an intangible, mystical way for as long as at least a single blossom remains on its stalk. All Craft and Expression rolls made in the presence of the flower gain two extra dice. This inspirational power is said to be an echo of Demeter’s springtime joy.

A vampire who swallows a Flower of Demeter experiences the blush of life until the next sunrise, with no expenditure of her own Vitae. She is capable of keeping down food, keeping up sexual activity and mimicking respiration and blood flow almost without thought. When the sunrise comes, however, the vampire undergoes an awful purge, vomiting up all food and drink consumed and experiencing tremendous but harmless anguish described by those who’ve experienced it as a “mourning of the flesh.”

An Acolyte cannot raise a new Flower of Demeter until her current specimen has been fully deflowered or allowed to die. The plant suffers all the anathema of the Kindred, and is destroyed in seconds by fire or sunlight. Blossoms clipped from the plant lose all mystical properties at the next sunrise, when they flake away in sheets of ash like burnt paper.

pon completion of this ritual, the sorceress may alter the precipitation within one mile of her current location for the remainder of the scene. She may call for fog, rain, sleet, snow or clear skies. In game terms, she may summon or cast away environmental penalties equal to or less than her dots in Crúac. Thus, with Crúac •••, she can raise a fog capable of imposing a –3 penalty on dice pools to see, shoot or otherwise act within the fog, or she could clear away up to –3 dice worth of penalties from a similar naturally occurring fog.

Once conjured, this weather is real in every way. The ritualist has no power to dismiss it again without another use of this ritual. Likewise, the ritualist is as vulnerable to the dice-pool penalties the creates as any other vampire is.

Ritualists believe that this power compels a spirit to carry out a single command. The command can take any length of time but must be something that the spirit is naturally capable of doing; the ritual does not grant the spirit any extra abilities. The command can be quite complex but must be a single action, possibly including an instruction to report back when the task is complete.

The ritual actually offers a valuable reward to the first spirit to complete the task described. Twisting the spirit of the request denies access to the reward. If multiple spirits are present, they might race to earn the reward. The more successes the ritualist gains, the greater the reward — on an exceptional success, affected spirits may even risk destruction, if the risk is small enough. However, if the task is too difficult or risky given the reward, no spirits will act.

The ritual generates one point of Essence for every success on the activation roll, available to the first spirit to complete the task specified. This Essence can only be used by genuine spirits — it is not usable by werewolves and mages can’t translate it into Mana even through the use of the Prime Arcanum.

On the road, a vampire risks not just danger but anonymity — if she dies at the hands of her enemies, far from her allies and blood “family,” no one may ever know her fate or be able to take revenge. This ritual mitigates some of that danger; it strengthens the ties of blood between childe and sire, grandchilde and grandsire, allowing the Acolyte’s extended brood to sense her in moments of crisis, no matter how far removed she may be.

Once the ritual is performed, the vampire’s “relatives” can sense her using blood sympathy (see p. 163 of Vampire: The Requiem) no matter where she might be, rather than just within 50 miles.

The effects of this ritual last until the next sunrise.

The ritualist writes a proposed course of action on some surface, and eats the surface while performing the ritual. If the course of action is a “bad” idea, he vomits the surface up in a mouthful of blood. If the action is a “good” idea, he retains it in his stomach without problems. On a failure, the writing is vomited up without blood. The course of action need not be one that the ritualist wants to take, and the writing must specify who is doing it. The actor must be someone the ritualist knows, however. The assessment only applies if the action is undertaken in the immediate future, which normally means that it applies to the night on which the ritual is used.

(For the purposes of this ritual, a “good” or “bad” idea is one that leads to measurable benefits or suffering for the individual taking the action, respectively.)

Ritualists in Toronto typically write on living mice, but paper works perfectly well. Those relying on allied Kindred as oracles should bear in mind that any Kindred can vomit blood by expending one Vitae, and keep anything down for a scene by expending Willpower.

In game terms, this ritual grants the sorceress a glimpse at the future, which bestows on her a beneficial confidence. In the scene when the prophesied action comes to pass, the ritualist immediately and automatically regains the first three Willpower points she spends on dice pools that do not result in a success or an exceptional success.

With this ritual, the Sethite can drive a possessing spirit out of a body.

The body must be immobilized (held down, tied up or chained) within sight of the caster. The caster smears some of the mixed sacrificial blood and Vitae on the bare skin of the target while pronouncing a brief, formulaic imprecation to Typhon Seth. If the roll is successful, the possessing spirit must leave its host, and cannot attempt to possess its original victim or any other for a number of turns equal to the number of successes rolled.

The ritual doesn’t damage a spirit, and can only be used on a spirit possessing a body.

Also called “Afanasiia’s Blessing” by elder or nostalgic Boyars, this is the ritual that allows a member of the Yagnatia to Embrace another into the bloodline. Without it, the Vitae flowing through the Boyars’ veins is sterile and unable to pass on the curse of vampirism to another. The existence of this ritual is completely unknown outside the bloodline, where it would be useless anyway, but is the most closely guarded secret of the Yagnatia.

The high priestess anoints the intended sire with a mixture of honey, sacred oil (usually olive) and a point of her own Vitae. The whole of the Chorus joins her in an ancient, dirge-like chant. If the ritual’s casting succeeds, the recipient has 24 hours in which to Embrace an individual before his Vitae becomes sterile once more. This blessing is only good for a single Embrace; multiple vampires cannot be created. An individual can only receive The Mother’s Blessing once a month, usually on the night of the new moon, and it cannot be cast on oneself. Perhaps as a holdover from Afanasiia’s curse upon Konstantin, only women are able to cast this ritual successfully.

The ritual developed by Carle Vernet to paint unlife into a portrait has strong resemblances to the Crúac arts of Vitae manipulation. Similar to them, the Vernet Ritual requires the subject (and the painter, if they are different) to actually spill her blood to supply the Vitae for the effect, and requires an extended casting time. The ritual must be cast each night over a maximum of seven nights, through the dark of the moon.

The model for the portrait need not sit for it, and need not know the ritual for an Imago of her to be created. She must only provide (willingly or unwillingly) at least three Vitae to be mixed with the pigments to form the paint. Only the painter must know the ritual; his spilled blood, taken with a sacred or enchanted knife, does not mingle with the pigment. The painter may paint the model at any age; as far as can be determined, however, the only consideration here is the sitter’s vanity.

At any age, the Imago resulting from a successful casting begins with the Vitae painted into it. The Imago’s immediate attitude toward the model and painter varies with the degree of success (and most likely with Storyteller whim). Rumor has it that Vernet experimented with attempting to blood bond an Imago to himself by painting his own Vitae into the canvas along with the sitter; the experiment was apparently unsuccessful.

Cost: 1 Vitae every other night from the painter; at least three Vitae from the model
Dice Pool: Intelligence + Crafts + Crúac; with an unwilling model, the roll for this ritual is penalized by the model’s Resolve.
Action: Extended (six successes; one roll equals a night of painting)

Roll Results
Dramatic Failure:
The portrait is destroyed in a sorcerous feedback loop, and the model loses all budgeted Vitae at once. For example, a sitter intending to pose for an Imago with five Vitae who suffers a dramatic failure on night two loses five points of Vitae at once, even though she has already lost two Vitae over the last two nights in the nightly casting process. A really dramatic failure might create a homunculus (see p. 225 of Vampire: The Requiem) from the lost Vitae, with the closest of blood ties to, and a psychotic grudge against, the model.

Failure:
The portrait goes awry and cannot become an Imago. The portrait cannot be used as the basis of a new Imago, and all spent Vitae is lost.

Success:
The portrait continues to take shape.

Exceptional Success:
The Imago is completed that night, with one more than its full intended Vitae score. The painter can determine its initial attitude toward the model and himself. In addition, the portrait is a near-masterpiece in appearance (+1 modifier on all rolls to fascinate, attract or compel a viewer).

Suggested Modifiers
Modifier — Situation
+2 — Self-portrait.
+1 — Portrait is of a model with whom the caster has a blood tie.
+1 — Model’s native soil used in pigments.
–1 — Model is unaware of the ritual nature or existence or both of the portrait being painted.
–2 — Portrait is not being painted from unlife.
–3 — Caster has no specialty in Painting.

This ritual creates a homunculus (as described on p. 225 of Vampire: The Requiem) and is particularly prized by Mother and Father Acolytes. This is a lengthy and elaborate rite, not to mention painful.

Females begin by obtaining human semen and then introducing about five pounds of sliced up animal parts into their body cavity. They must have enough organs and limbs for a nearly complete animal — a brain, a heart, legs (if it must move), eyes (if it must see) and so on. When the vampire invokes Ti’amat, mother of monsters (or, in regional variations, Lilith or Kali or other figures of dire fertility), the limbs fuse into a homunculus and it is born, mewling and repulsive. In this case, the results of the rite shed the blood needed to power it. The mother bleeds in birth, even if the homunculus fails to thrive.

The masculine version references Zeus, who gave birth to Athena directly from his head and to Dionysus after that god was sewn into Zeus’s thigh. Males don’t need to harvest seed as the succubi of legend, but they do need to cut themselves open to arrange the body pieces among their organs. The Vitae they spend to heal themselves with the nascent servitors inside also powers the ritual. As to how the homunculus emerges, it varies but is universally painful and terrible to behold.

Regardless of the gender of the creator, the pieces must remain inside his or her body for at least 13 hours before being born at the next midnight. While the pieces are in place, the Acolyte appears pregnant and suffers a –1 penalty to all Physical dice pools.

BETTER HOMUNCULI

With the Circle’s emphasis on creation, Acolytes are very interested in making homunculi. Other than the Embrace, these warped and shriveled creatures are the closest Acolytes can come to real progeny. Due to their research, they are able to improve homunculi while they are still in what passes for the womb, though (as is typical for the Circle) it’s a route fraught with agony.

It is possible to create smarter, stronger or otherwise better homunculi. Doing so is a two-step process. The first step is to design a ritual that imbues the creature with the desired properties. The character must succeed at an Intelligence + Occult roll to figure out how to do this, but the player must actually describe what the ritual is. The Storyteller may give bonuses for really evocative descriptions, or even just allow the roll to automatically succeed. Scant or inappropriate descriptions, on the other hand, may impose penalties.

Secondly, the player must spend the experience points required to buy the desired Skill or Attribute, just as if the homunculus were a character. Once a player has improved a homunculus, any subsequent homunculi created by that same character are born with the same advanced traits. A homunculus may only be given Physical Merits with the Storyteller’s permission. A homunculus created with Crúac cannot be larger than Size 2.

The vampire curses the flesh of a mortal with this ritual. That person’s body now holds more blood than it once did, up to twice the normal amount (which is equivalent to twice that human’s Health score in points of Vitae). Provided that the mortal target doesn’t lose blood during this time in a substantial way, he actually bloats and gains one point of fresh blood regenerated per day (upon awakening in the morning). As this happens, the skin stretches, the belly and fat bloat, the body shifts and distends like a tick filling up on dog’s blood. This “livestock” process does not increase the person’s Health per blood point gained, but he does gain +1 Health by the end of the process because of all the swelling and distension. She stops gaining the “one point per day” whenever blood is drawn from her in large quantities (at least a point taken). Some call this “lancing the boil.”

Whereas drawing blood from humans invokes one lethal point of damage per point of Vitae taken, this is now changed to one point of lethal damage per two points of Vitae taken from the body. In this way, some Savage cultists create whole farms of humans who bloat unnaturally with twice the blood a normal human body can hold.

The caster performs this ritual (Manipulation + Occult + Crúac is rolled) and channels his righteous ire into a tangible force. If the performance roll is successful, the user’s mere touch becomes deadly. The sorcerer must then touch a subject with his open palm. (See “Touching an Opponent,” p. 157 of the World of Darkness Rulebook.) Contact inflicts an amount of lethal damage equal to the number of successes gained on the activation roll. (The power cannot be delivered through a punch or other unarmed close-combat attack.) This harm can be delivered only once per performance of the ritual, and the user’s touch has the potential to inflict harm for one hour for every success gained on the activation roll. If that period of time passes without a touch being made, the power fades.

The mark made by contact is physically manifest in accordance with its severity. A Touch of the Morrigan that inflicts one point of damage looks like a minor scar or livid bruise, while one that delivers five points of damage leaves the subject almost entirely blackened and charred looking. The visible injury fades as the damage is healed. This power affects only vampires, ghouls and other supernatural creatures. It seems that Kindred cannot inflict their viciousness on mortals in this manner.

Kindred believe that this ritual marks a mortal as cursed, and that the power of the magic forces spirits to harass him. The subject must be within sight of the ritualist when the ritual is completed, or it fails automatically. The subject’s Composure is subtracted from all activation rolls. The effects of the ritual persist for one night per success on the activation roll.

This ritual does not actually curse a mortal, it simply makes him visible and significant to spirits. In practice, this is a curse, as plenty of spirits have no love for humans. This means that machines may refuse to work (as the spirits in them decide not to cooperate), animals become hostile (possibly even attacking) and plants and weather really do conspire against the subject. As a rule of thumb, the subject suffers a one-die penalty to any actions taken while cursed, and must deal with a great many unhelpful circumstances, as the Storyteller sees fit (rain, broken equipment, etc.).

The ritual has no effect on Kindred — their corpses cannot be brought to the attention of the spirits in this way. The ritual also has no effect on werewolves and mages, as they are already the subjects of much spiritual notice. The ritual does affect ghouls, the wolf-blooded and Sleepwalkers, although spirits may react slightly differently to such mortals. Ghouls, in particular, tend to be the target of more focused hostility.

The Sethite smears a knife or sword (ritually, the Sethites favor the use of the bronze Khepesh, the dog-legged scimitar of Ancient Egypt) with the mixed blood of the sacrificial victim and his own Vitae. If the activation roll for this ritual is successful, the blade gains the power to cause aggravated damage to ghosts and spirits, whether in twilight or materialized. The weapon is no more effective than usual against anyone else. The effect of the ritual lasts until dawn, when the weapon rusts or rots away and can never be used again.

This bizarre ritual creates a guardian that watches over a vampire as he sleeps — an undead, spidery homunculus with fangs dripping bloody venom. To perform the ritual, the Acolyte must surrender a portion of her Vitae to create her guardian’s physical form. The ritual creates a large, crimson spider resembling a tarantula that guards her haven as she rests for the day. The creature has the following traits.

Attributes: Intelligence 0, Wits 1, Resolve 1, Strength 1, Dexterity 4, Stamina 1, Presence 0, Manipulation 0, Composure 1
Skills: Athletics 2, Stealth (Hiding in Plain Sight) 4, Survival 1
Willpower: 2
Initiative: 5
Defense: 4
Speed: 8 (species factor 3)
Size: 1
Weapons/Attacks:
Type Damage Dice Pool
Bite 1 (L) and poison Successes of the invocation roll
Health: 2

The blood-spider’s unnaturally powerful fangs also contain a preternatural venom, a corrupted Vitae that affects mortals and Kindred alike. Against mortals, it makes attacks with a number of dice equal to the invocation roll’s successes (usually four, given that this is a •••• ritual, but extra successes on the activation roll do count), inflicting lethal damage. In other words, don’t roll the spider’s Strength + Brawl — use a dice pool of the successes achieved upon activation. Attacks staged against Kindred are resolved in the same way, except each success rolled taints one Vitae in the victim, making that Vitae useless (remove it from the Vitae pool; it nauseates the Kindred but not to the degree of impeding any dice pools).

The blood-spider is absolutely loyal to its master, and en- joys a form of blood sympathy with her. If the blood-spider is injured or destroyed, the Acolyte senses it automatically. No Wits roll is required to check if the character can detect trouble while she sleeps, but a Humanity roll is still required to awaken. The spider cannot be frightened off or repelled by mundane forces or threats, and the ritual’s invocation successes are added to its Resistance traits against Disciplines or magical powers that might drive it off or take control of it. It stays animated and on guard until sunset, at which point it breaks down into a puddle of clotted and rotting blood.

The sorcerer mystically claims one third of the Vitae that a subject imbibes. The subject must be within sight when this ritual is performed. Every time the subject feeds, a third of the Vitae he consumes is denied him and transfers invisibly to the sorcerer, regardless of either vampire’s location. This Vitae is “neutral,” which is to say that the feeding Kindred does not subject the sorcerer to a Vinculum in this manner, and neither does feeding from a third-party vampire apply any blood bonds to the sorcerer (though it certainly does to the feeding vampire). The effects of this ritual expire after one feeding or the next sunrise, whichever comes first.

A contested roll is made to activate this power, pitting the sorcerer’s Manipulation + Occult + Crúac versus the subject’s Composure + Blood Potency, and this resistance is reflexive. If the most successes are rolled for the caster, the subject has no idea where some of the Vitae he consumes disappears to, yet he knows that he goes undernourished.

Acolytes believe this ritual binds a spirit to serve as the ritualist’s guardian. It does not obey particular commands, at least not without the use of another ritual but remains close to the Kindred and uses its powers to protect her from harm. A vampire can only have one such spirit guardian at a time, and the ritual must be directed to a particular spirit.

Despite the name of the ritual, it has a limited duration, ending at the next full moon. Wise ritualists thus cast this ritual on the day after the full moon, for maximum benefit. If the subject spirit is destroyed, the effects of the ritual immediately end, of course.

This ritual actually lets a spirit draw a great deal of power from the vampire. First, the vampire’s presence allows the spirit to linger in the physical world. Second, every time the vampire spends Vitae, the spirit potentially gains power. Third, the spirit can materialize in the ritualist’s presence, spending one of the Kindred’s Vitae to do so. (The vampire cannot resist this, as she gave the spirit permission by performing the ritual.) Thus the spirit is given good reason to remain present and protective of the vampire — if the vampire is destroyed, the effects of the ritual end for the spirit. On the other hand, the spirit does not want the vampire to conserve Vitae, and may use its powers to encourage expenditures of the Blood.

The ritualist becomes a fetter for the subject spirit, even if the spirit does not normally have that Numen. Every time the Kindred spends a Vitae, for any reason, including waking for the night, the spirit gains one Essence if it is within five yards of the Kindred, present in the physical world and succeeds on a reflexive Power + Finesse roll. If the vampire spends multiple Vitae in a single turn, the spirit gains one Essence per success, up to the number of Vitae spent by the vampire. The spirit may materialize, as the Numen, by spending one of the Kindred’s Vitae, as long as the spirit is within five yards of the Kindred. The spirit does not need to spend Essence to manifest in this way (the Vitae is spent in its place) and can always materialize for one hour, even if the spirit gains no successes on the Power + Finesse roll.

The ritualist spills a point of Vitae over the surface of a mirror. As the ritual is completed, the Vitae steams and boils away, leaving the mirror clean. The reflection in it is perfectly clear, and it is the face of the person the ritualist most needs to confront at that time.

The ritual does not say why the ritualist must confront that person, although sometimes it is obvious. There is no guarantee that the ritualist even knows the person. The image is, however, clear and free of deception, and if the antagonist has commonly used disguises, the image shifts to show them as well. The ritualist, and anyone else who looks in the mirror, can easily identify the person shown if he sees her in the future.

The ritual works on any creature, including spirits. However, an image of the ephemeral state of a spirit may be of little use. If the main antagonist has supernatural means of concealment, and they are active at the time, the score in the relevant Ability is subtracted from the ritualist’s dice pool. For example, if the antagonist were a Kindred with Obfuscate, his dots in Obfuscate would be subtracted from the ritualist’s dice pool if he was using the Discipline at the time. If he was relaxing in his haven, with no Disciplines active, there would be no subtraction.

This ritual is largely a Storyteller’s tool, but the following mechanical benefit gives it teeth: In the scene when the ritualist finally confronts the figure revealed in the mirror, she enjoys the benefits of the 8-again rule on all dice pools made against the revealed antagonist.

When this ritual is activated, the sorceress must specify a target from which she intends to feed that same night. For every Vitae she would normally gain when feeding from the target, she instead gains one dot in a Skill pos- sessed by the subject. The subject loses Vitae as normal.

The ritualist cannot drain more dots than the vessel possesses, but also cannot drain more than the amount of remaining blood. Drained dots are not added to the ritualist’s own score; instead, she can use the drained ability if it exceeds her own rating in the Skill.

The ritualist may choose to specify a particular Skill to drain, in which case she gains nothing if the vessel has fewer dots in that Skill than she does. Alternatively, she may choose to drain the vessel’s highest Skill.

One of the stolen dots fades every time the sun rises. As long as the ritualist has at least one stolen dot, she has access to the vessel’s Specialties in that Skill, as well, and may apply them to her own score in the Skill or to a stolen score.

The roll to activate this power is penalized by the target’s Resolve.

When this ritual is completed, the sorceress must specify a target from which she intends to feed. If the ritualist successfully feeds from the target within that same night, the ritualist gains no Vitae, but instead gains the identity of the vessel. Her appearance changes to match his, and she gains a degree of his knowledge and memories. Scientific tests may be unable to distinguish the ritualist and the vessel. Supernatural senses reveal that some mystic power is at work, but most do not reveal exactly which.

The ritual has some limits. It does not change clothing or anything else aside from the ritualist’s own body. The ritual also does not stop the vessel from interfering with the feeding. The greatest limit is that, when used on supernatural creatures of any sort, Mask of Blood does not convey any supernatural abilities. If the subject is mundane, the successes achieved on the ritual’s activation roll automatically become the equivalent successes on the ritualist’s disguise roll to pass herself off as the victim.

Even more useful than this is access to some of the vessel’s knowledge. The ritualist gains a bonus to Subterfuge dice pools to pose as the subject equal to the amount of the subject’s Vitae she has in her system, to a maximum of her dots in Crúac.

The ritual can be used on anything with blood. The vampire’s own Attributes are unchanged, so if she uses this ritual on a raven, she becomes a very tough raven. Only her Size changes.

The effects of this ritual end at sunrise. The dice pool to activate this power is penalized by the subject’s Composure.

The ritualist sacrifices part of her body in return for increased power. She cuts off an extremity or sense organ, inflicting a single aggravated wound, and the benefits of the ritual last until she heals the wound.

The extremity severed comes with a penalty. Despite the mythic resonances, male Acolytes get no benefit from severing their genitals, and female Acolytes get none from severing their breasts. The main choices are a hand, a foot, an eye or the tongue. In addition to the wound, this mutilation imposes a penalty of –3 to –5 dice on actions that would normally use the organ in question, and may impose a similar penalty on Social rolls.

While suffering from the sacrifice, the ritualist gets a greater-than-normal benefit from spending Willpower. If spent to enhance a roll, one point grants five bonus dice, rather than the normal three. If a Willpower point is spent to enhance a defensive Attribute, the spent point raises the trait by three, rather than the normal two.

A ritualist can only benefit from one use of this ritual at a time.

The Sethite must perform this ritual in the open air, throwing Vitae and sacrificial blood into the air and screaming for the coming of Apep, the Great Dead Serpent, Bringer of Discord.

Success brings about sudden extreme weather conditions: lightning, freezing rain, hail or snow, howling winds and similar phenemona.

Suggested Modifiers: Weather already poor (+1), weather exceptionally fine and warm (-2).

The performer makes herself immune to the Vinculum and blood addiction when another Kindred’s Vitae is consumed. After this ritual is performed, if another vampire’s blood is taken in the same night, no step is taken toward a Vinculum with the provider of the blood, and no addiction to blood forms for the character. Of course, the blood donor has no idea that the recipient is immune. The ritual cannot be performed on another vampire, only on the caster’s self. The ritual does not countermand or alleviate any existing Vinculum to which the caster is already subject.

This ritual for creating gargoyles only takes a moment to enact. The Acolyte writes a name in Vitae under the creature’s tongue or on its forehead (sometimes the name of a deity, sometimes the Acolyte’s own real name from life) and what was inanimate becomes mobile.

Awakening the gargoyle isn’t easy, but it’s quick. Building the body in the first place isn’t even quick. It’s an extended Dexterity + Crafts roll. Each roll represents two hours of labor. When 40 successes have been amassed, the body is ready. While many are carved stone or kiln-fired clay, other Acolytes have made them out of carved hardwood or even by training thick vines into human form. Rumors say there are mannequin gargoyles seeing use in Scotland, but most Acolytes are more interested in a reliable creation than in experimenting.

If this power is used to activate a gargoyle that was not crafted specifically to accommodate this ritual, the gargoyle functions only for a number of turns equal to the successes scored on the activation roll.

Creation gives insight into destruction. If a character knows A Child From the Stones, she can use it to deactivate someone else’s gargoyle (often by defacing the name that animates it). She has to touch the gargoyle within three turns of completing the ritual, however, to counteract its creation.

All Crúac blurs the line between the ritualist and the physical world, allowing her to work her will on people and objects and energies as of they were limbs of her own body. As One extends that principle farther and deeper, investing an area with her spirit and, at the same time, making her a reflection of that territory. Many Crones consider this ritual a pragmatic apotheosis: the ritualist literally becomes a local god, at least for a while.

This ceremony requires significant time. The Acolyte must sacrifice at least three living things, at three different locations, thereby marking out the boundaries of the region she wills as her own. (Some perform more sacrifices, thereby creating a square or irregular domain instead of the usual triangle.) All three sacrifices must be made during the same night, with the Acolyte making the roll and spending her own blood after the final bloodletting. No vampire, spirit or other supernatural creature may feed from the dead — doing so ruins the ritual.

Once the region is marked out and the attempt succeeds, the Acolyte operates as a local patron spirit to that area for a number of nights equal to the total successes she rolled. The Storyteller may adjudicate just what it means to be patron in terms of minor effects, but the player also chooses a concrete manifestation of authority for the character. This effect can be different each time the character performs the ritual. Doing the ritual again while it’s already in effect does not allow a second manifestation but does extend the duration of the effect already in place.

Players and Storytellers should work together to develop the effects of As One. Some examples include the following:

• Eyes of the Wise. Whenever she meets a living person who resides within her territory, she learns one thing about him that she has no other way of knowing. This could be innocuous — “Her husband’s private nickname for her is ‘Lollipop,’” or that he sexually assaulted his eight-year-old cousin when he was 13 and they’ve never spoken about it to anyone, even though they see each other every Christmas.
• Make Straight the Royal Highway. The Acolyte takes no penalties from mundane physical obstacles while on foot. Anything she could push through without physical harm, she can now pass through without impediment. Thus she can run full speed on ice without falling or pass through a crowd of slam-dancers without slowing down. She can walk through a downpour without getting wet and across dry leaves without making a sound. Furthermore, once per night she can defy one obstacle that would normally halt her: she can command a door to unlock or walk across the surface of a pond.
• Immortal Viands. Instead of spending a point of Vitae to wake for the night, she can instead drain the vitality of her domain. This can’t be used for anything but waking, can only be used once per night and while the damage is subtle, definitely harms the location she rules. If she’s in a forest, the damage might strike dead one tall tree or invite a blight that threatens all of them. If she’s in a city, a building might catch fire, a business might fail or a malevolent ghost or spirit might suddenly wake up feeling right at home there.
• The Very Stones Defend Me. Once per night, the Acolyte can have her land attack somebody. Both the Acolyte and the target of the attack have to be in her realm. The nature of the attack always seems to be an accident — anything from a car crash in the city to a falling branch in the woods to a lightning strike on the plains. The Storyteller decides if the damage would be bashing, lethal or aggravated. The pool for bashing damage is the ritualist’s Presence + Occult + Crúac. For lethal, the pool is Occult + Crúac. For aggravated, it’s equal to her Crúac rating only.
• Cowan’s Mark. Once per night, the Acolyte can curse one person who does not routinely spend time in her region with the Nosferatu clan weakness. The cursed person seems untrustworthy, shifty — like a stranger.
• The Trees Give Voice. Once per night, the Acolyte can gain information from her territory. This may take the form of a vision (quite similar to those garnered from The Spirit’s Touch, as described on p. 121 of Vampire: The Requiem), only the vision is specific to the information the character seeks. Alternately, she may call up minor spirits that reside in the area and interrogate them for what they know in a question-and-answer format. It should be noted that this power only works on physical events that happened in her terrain. This power cannot explain what someone there was feeling, only show what that person did.
• Taste the Blood of the Spirit. Any time Disciplines or magic of any genuine sort are used in her territory, the ritualist knows it. If it’s a Discipline she herself possesses, she recognizes it and gets a vague sense of the direction where it was used. If it’s something different (a sorcerer’s spell taking effect or a werewolf changing shape) she knows something happened and has a vague idea of how powerful the effect, but she doesn’t know what or where.
• Sanctuary. Once per night, she may declare an area of about a 20-foot radius as her sanctuary. No one outside that area can enter unless he wins a contested roll. The interloper rolls Resolve + Composure + Blood Potency. The ritualist rolls Presence + Occult + Crúac. Sanctuary lasts for one scene.

On top of those effects, the Storyteller either rolls a die or secretly chooses one of the side effects listed below.

• Sketchy images of her face appear in stains, or arise momentarily from TV static or seem to form briefly in the patterns of rain rolling down a windshield.
• Every time a radio is playing in her presence, it plays music appropriate to her mood or situation.
• She seems very familiar to everyone in her territory, even if they know they’ve never met her before.
• Small plants die and instantly wither when she steps on them.
• All animals stare at her and fall silent in her presence. Unless compelled to do something else (a dog is told to heel or a car bears down on a cat in the street), the animals keep a wary distance and gaze at her intently.
• People cannot catch their breath if her shadow is touching them. Prolonged exposure won’t kill someone, but he pants and feels an icy chill clutch his chest.
• No one in her territory can speak her name.
• Her mood affects the weather. If she’s sad, the sky is cloudy. If she’s enraged, there are sandstorms or hail. If she’s content, expect unseasonably pleasant skies. This cannot create rapid or unnatural changes, but it’s definitely perceptible.
• Sensitive artists have to roll Resolve + Composure every night, or else suffer a nightmare about the Acolyte.
• In her presence, shadows thicken, flames gutter and waver while light bulbs flicker and dim. All attempts to hide from sight get a +1 bonus, and all damage pools from fire get a –1 penalty. This effect happens anywhere she can be seen.

This potent ritual taints the blood of its target, whether mortal or vampire. Roll Manipulation + Occult + Crúac in a contested action against the target’s Stamina + Blood Potency (resistance is reflexive). If the roll for the caster gets the most successes, that number of successes is inflicted as lethal damage to a mortal target. A vampire target immediately loses the equivalent of Vitae in his system and could be subject to frenzy as a result. Indeed, a vampiric victim might be forced into torpor. The caster must be able to see the intended victim when the ritual is performed.

While blood of terrible potency is a powerful tool, it can also be a burden, especially when it restricts feeding. Most elder Kindred wind up using torpor to ease this burden, sooner or later. Powerful Acolyte sorcerers have a different option.

The Crone’s Renewal allows a character to voluntarily reduce his Blood Potency by 1, but at the cost of siring a childe at Blood Potency 2. This is a standard Embrace in all other ways, including the Willpower dot sacrifice, but the childe begins play at Blood Potency 2. This means that it is possible for her to be an active member of a bloodline from her very first night — often led by an Avus who is weakened, but reveling in a feeding pool that’s 50,000 times larger than it was the week previous.

In the hands of blood sorcerers, this curse is a personal and dangerous blight, for it can turn a respected member of a domain into an outcast, forced to flee for his unlife. While under the effects of this ritual (which lasts a single night), a vampire’s Beast is ascendant and uncontrollable. The Predator’s Taint flares every time a vampire encounters him, even one he has known for centuries. In cases where the subject uses powers such as Mask of Tranquility or Aspect of the Predator, compare the Blood Potency of the vampire using the power to the Blood Potency of the vampire enacting this ritual. If the ritual performer has the higher trait, the subject’s Mask of Tranquility or Aspect of the Predator has no effect. If the subject’s Blood Potency is equal to or higher than the ritual performer’s, Mask of Tranquility or Aspect of the Predator works normally.

The vampire targeted by this ritual must be visible to the invoker. A contested roll is made to activate this power, pitting the sorcerer’s Manipulation + Occult + Crúac versus the subject’s Composure + Blood Potency, and this resistance is reflexive.

When the performer calls upon the power of the Crone herself (by whatever name is used), and a Vitae is spent, the vampire’s mouth transforms into a maw of wicked, gnashing teeth. The vampire need not perform a grapple attack in order to bite a victim; the attack is made directly. The number of successes achieved on the ritual’s activation roll is added as bonus dice to attack rolls, and aggravated damage is inflicted. Note that these teeth are so vicious that feeding cannot occur when they are borne; too much blood is wasted in the gory slaughter to get nourishment. Feeding the Crone remains in effect until another Vitae is spent to revoke the change, or until sunrise.

At times, it seems like all is tied to a vampire’s Blood Potency. It is the core of the creature’s power, the center of his vampiric nature. This ritual borrows Ianus’s ability to look and move both forward and backward in time — with it, a vampire can temporarily change her Blood Potency score up or down. She can lower her Blood Potency score a number of dots up to her Resolve score. She can raise her Blood Potency score by the same number. This lasts for the remainder of the night.

In raising Blood Potency, the vampire now has access to a larger pool of Vitae and can spend more per turn (most likely). Feeding restrictions may change (see “Effects of Blood Potency,” p. 99, Vampire: The Requiem). Certain traits or conditions (joining a bloodline, going above 5 in an Attribute or Skill, gaining certain Merits found in this book) necessitate having a high Blood Potency, and the player can purchase these with experience points and utilize them while her character’s Blood Potency is elevated. Once that rating returns to normal, she doesn’t lose the traits gained, but she loses access to any of those benefits. If she joins or creates a bloodline, it’s almost as if the bloodline hasn’t yet “taken hold” — it remains a temporary condition until she either uses this ritual again or bites the bullet and raises her Blood Potency through time, diablerie or experience points.

Lowering one’s Blood Potency means that the character’s trait maximum, max Vitae pool and max Vitae per turn will all likely drop. Of course, it also may change one’s feeding restrictions for a time. It might also make an elder a less-tempting target for diablerists.

Note that if the character has more Vitae in his pool than what his “max pool” eventually becomes (say, the character has 20 Vitae when his pool shifts down to a maximum of 15), that blood is violently ejected from the body out of any pore or orifice. It causes one point of aggravated damage during this process.

This strange ritual allows the sorceress to divide her Crúac dots over any of her Haven Merits. The ritualist must be within her haven to use this ritual, but by using it she can warp the haven beyond the normal limits of the Merit. Regardless of the changes wrought to the haven, they endure for only one scene. However, the inside of a haven altered by this ritual no longer needs to correspond to its outside, or even to the strictest rules of reality.

Here are some examples of what this ritual can do with each of the three Haven Merits:

Haven Location: Relocate the haven’s doors or physical boundaries. If the ritual increases this Merit to five dots or less, nothing obviously supernatural occurs. If this ritual increases this Merit’s rating to 6–9 dots, the haven’s exterior boundaries warp subtly, bending around alleys, opening up on neighboring streets or into the back rooms of nearby buildings where previously the haven did not. These changes always occur in the blink of an eye, without any obvious mutation to the structure. If this ritual increases the Merit to 10 dots, it becomes possible to enter the haven in one part of the city and leave it in a wholly other part of the city. That is, if the haven is normally located in The Docks, the coterie might enter it instead through a door in Midtown. Either the entrance or exit of the haven must still be located in the haven’s typical location, before this ritual was activated.

Haven Security: Augment the haven’s defenses with vanishing doors or magical warning creatures. If the ritual increases this Merit’s rating to 6–9 dots, doors may be replaced with brick walls or iron sheets. Windows may vanish. Gargoyles turn their heads to follow passersby with their eyes. If the ritual increases the Merit’s dots to 10, the haven actively works to thwart intruders, including squeezing shut brick doorways around trespassers or trapping feet in floor drains.

Haven Size: Alter the haven’s interior, possibly making it larger inside than it is outside. If the ritual increases the Merit’s rating to 6–9 dots, the haven gains one or two rooms and a maze of passages branch out from the existing rooms, many of them leading nowhere. It becomes quite easy to hide or stalk prey within the haven. If this ritual increases the Merit’s rating to 10 dots, the haven takes on an utterly surreal appearance to intruders, including upside-down rooms, smoky corridors and passages that lead directly, impossibly back to the very doorways from which they began.

The vampire walks by night: that is the orderly way. And so, this is the most evil of rituals, for it violates the cosmic order, and needs a life to make it possible. Having slaughtered some conscious human victim, either unwilling or willing (or at any rate, brainwashed into being willing), the vampire cuts out the victim’s heart and eats it. Then she retires to her haven. She falls into a deep sleep. Come sunrise, she leaves her body, getting up and walking about in the broad daylight. Although insubstantial, she appears to be completely solid, and can interact with anyone she meets. She can’t make use of Disciplines, however, and can only touch the physical world for a few seconds (to brush a hand across a face, write a brief message on a piece of paper, open a door, or the like) if her player spends a point of Vitae and makes a successful roll of Presence + Occult. Even if the vampire is not a Hollow Mekhet, she has no reflection, no shadow, and does not appear on film, nor does she create an echo or register on any device that records or transmits sound.

The vampire can see ghosts and spirits in this state, and can touch and even fight them, but is under a great deal of risk, since she can bring no weapons or equipment with her and cannot access her supernatural powers.