Baddacelli
“Mommy? Mommy, is that you? Please! I’m in here. It’s so dark! I can’t see you, Mommy . . . come closer Mommy . . . ? Chkchkchkchkchkchkchkchkt!”
Condemned to eternal darkness, the sightless line of horrors known as the Baddacelli burrows through the network of catacombs that grow inevitably in the underground of all human cities. Whether lurking in collapsed sewer branches, abandoned subway stations, condemned basements or midnight labyrinths of their own construction, they hide — and hunt — in the dark places away from the sight of men and Kindred alike.
In these places, the Baddacelli dwell, shrouded in the darkness that is both their shield and their curse. Denied sight, they develop their remaining senses to preternatural levels and cultivate uncanny, horrifyingly effective abilities to aid in survival.
Everyone knows that sound can play tricks on you underground, but few suspect what a weapon sound becomes when touched by the unholy power of the Blood. When the Baddacelli infest the underground of a city, bereft mothers disappear into subway tunnels following the plaintive voices of lost children. Sewer workers separated from their crews hear their coworkers call from an unexpected direction and follow those voices — never to be seen again. Children hear the whimpering of lost pets coming from storm drains, and never realize until too late that a blind and hungry monster lurks in the darkness behind the wretched sounds. Enticing sounds that beg investigation, haunting echoes that confuse all sense of direction, chilling screeches that demand the listener flee ever deeper into the subterranean catacombs — all these and more drive unsuspecting victims to the waiting clutches of the Baddacelli.
The Kindred of this line are monsters and deceivers by nature. They have to be, in order to survive.
Therefore, they approach the world through the lens of that to which they are accustomed — cloaking themselves in secrecy and warding off trouble with misdirection. This is not to say that they just hide in their tunnels and ignore the world above; in fact, they are curious about the surface world, and drawn to it as only beings accursed to be forever separated from it can be. It is simply that they choose to touch the world the same way they hunt their prey: by bringing it to them unawares, and in manageable amounts.
In the early centuries after the fall of the Camarilla, infighting among the Kindred of the Roman Empire was at its peak. In one of these cities (Baddacelli legends differ as to which, though almost all agree it was within the bounds of modern-day Italy), one Nosferatu grew to prominence and took advantage of the chaos to Embrace in great numbers. He had been an exceedingly large Kindred, a fact that had earned him the appellation by which he was known to the vampires of his city: Botticello, or “The Barrel.” As his progeny grew to become a de facto faction of their own within city politics, they were in turn collectively referred to as the Botticelli, a diminutive form of their sire’s own name meaning “The Little Barrels.” The mutation of this name has accrued to the bloodline descendants of these Kindred, and predates the assumed provenance by several centuries.
Naturally, Botticello’s ascendancy made him many enemies — he was particularly known for humiliating rivals with uncanny impersonations of their personal foibles. Himself an unabashed pagan who still clung to the old Roman gods, he was particularly fervent in undermining and attacking the vampires of The Lancea Sanctum. It was perhaps only a matter of time before the conflict being played out in the city’s Elysium spilled over into outright violence. Over the next several years, the struggle took on the savage character of religious warfare fueled by strong personal hatreds on both sides.
In the end, Botticello was defeated, and the majority of his brood slain or scattered. He was captured by his rivals, who set about torturing him until Final Death. His remaining childer managed to rescue him, but not before his body was broken and both eyes burned from his skull.
Botticello and his loyal childer fled deep into the sewers and catacombs beneath the city. Initially, it is said, they planned to allow the elder to recover from his injuries and flee the domain. In time, however, it became clear that the injuries to his eyes were not Healing. It was unthinkable for a blind vampire to attempt to traverse the wilderness between cities in those nights, and so Botticello stayed hidden away in the underbelly of the city he had once sought to rule. A few of his most loyal progeny chose to remain with him. However, as the years passed, the Baddacelli began, one by one, to lose their own sight, and rumors spread within the brood that the sorcerers of The Lancea Sanctum had placed a curse upon their line. Some of the brood fled to distant cities in the hopes that by separation they could avoid a similar fate.
It was not to be. In the years that followed, most of the surviving vampires of the line lost the world of light and color forever. In lands distant from their city of origin, they, too, fled into the underground of their new homes. There in the endless darkness they hid, slowly learning mastery of the special talents and rarefied senses that could bring them the prey they needed. Sometimes, a recently Embraced vampire would attempt to flee the curse of the Blood by desperately seeking out a new city to call home. But the Baddacelli curse would inevitably have its due, and a new brood of blind horrors would begin beneath a new city.
Tonight, members of the Baddacelli bloodline can be found scattered throughout Europe, the Americas and the Middle East. Several major cities play unwitting host to a brood of these blind nightmares. Even where other Kindred are aware of the Baddacelli’s presence, these secretive Kindred keep their true numbers and the details of their existence to themselves. The Baddacelli survive, and they hunt in their lightless demesnes, and few indeed are the Kindred who would be willing to follow the Baddacelli into their catacombs to learn more of them than that.
In these places, the Baddacelli dwell, shrouded in the darkness that is both their shield and their curse. Denied sight, they develop their remaining senses to preternatural levels and cultivate uncanny, horrifyingly effective abilities to aid in survival.
Everyone knows that sound can play tricks on you underground, but few suspect what a weapon sound becomes when touched by the unholy power of the Blood. When the Baddacelli infest the underground of a city, bereft mothers disappear into subway tunnels following the plaintive voices of lost children. Sewer workers separated from their crews hear their coworkers call from an unexpected direction and follow those voices — never to be seen again. Children hear the whimpering of lost pets coming from storm drains, and never realize until too late that a blind and hungry monster lurks in the darkness behind the wretched sounds. Enticing sounds that beg investigation, haunting echoes that confuse all sense of direction, chilling screeches that demand the listener flee ever deeper into the subterranean catacombs — all these and more drive unsuspecting victims to the waiting clutches of the Baddacelli.
The Kindred of this line are monsters and deceivers by nature. They have to be, in order to survive.
Therefore, they approach the world through the lens of that to which they are accustomed — cloaking themselves in secrecy and warding off trouble with misdirection. This is not to say that they just hide in their tunnels and ignore the world above; in fact, they are curious about the surface world, and drawn to it as only beings accursed to be forever separated from it can be. It is simply that they choose to touch the world the same way they hunt their prey: by bringing it to them unawares, and in manageable amounts.
In the early centuries after the fall of the Camarilla, infighting among the Kindred of the Roman Empire was at its peak. In one of these cities (Baddacelli legends differ as to which, though almost all agree it was within the bounds of modern-day Italy), one Nosferatu grew to prominence and took advantage of the chaos to Embrace in great numbers. He had been an exceedingly large Kindred, a fact that had earned him the appellation by which he was known to the vampires of his city: Botticello, or “The Barrel.” As his progeny grew to become a de facto faction of their own within city politics, they were in turn collectively referred to as the Botticelli, a diminutive form of their sire’s own name meaning “The Little Barrels.” The mutation of this name has accrued to the bloodline descendants of these Kindred, and predates the assumed provenance by several centuries.
Naturally, Botticello’s ascendancy made him many enemies — he was particularly known for humiliating rivals with uncanny impersonations of their personal foibles. Himself an unabashed pagan who still clung to the old Roman gods, he was particularly fervent in undermining and attacking the vampires of The Lancea Sanctum. It was perhaps only a matter of time before the conflict being played out in the city’s Elysium spilled over into outright violence. Over the next several years, the struggle took on the savage character of religious warfare fueled by strong personal hatreds on both sides.
In the end, Botticello was defeated, and the majority of his brood slain or scattered. He was captured by his rivals, who set about torturing him until Final Death. His remaining childer managed to rescue him, but not before his body was broken and both eyes burned from his skull.
Botticello and his loyal childer fled deep into the sewers and catacombs beneath the city. Initially, it is said, they planned to allow the elder to recover from his injuries and flee the domain. In time, however, it became clear that the injuries to his eyes were not Healing. It was unthinkable for a blind vampire to attempt to traverse the wilderness between cities in those nights, and so Botticello stayed hidden away in the underbelly of the city he had once sought to rule. A few of his most loyal progeny chose to remain with him. However, as the years passed, the Baddacelli began, one by one, to lose their own sight, and rumors spread within the brood that the sorcerers of The Lancea Sanctum had placed a curse upon their line. Some of the brood fled to distant cities in the hopes that by separation they could avoid a similar fate.
It was not to be. In the years that followed, most of the surviving vampires of the line lost the world of light and color forever. In lands distant from their city of origin, they, too, fled into the underground of their new homes. There in the endless darkness they hid, slowly learning mastery of the special talents and rarefied senses that could bring them the prey they needed. Sometimes, a recently Embraced vampire would attempt to flee the curse of the Blood by desperately seeking out a new city to call home. But the Baddacelli curse would inevitably have its due, and a new brood of blind horrors would begin beneath a new city.
Tonight, members of the Baddacelli bloodline can be found scattered throughout Europe, the Americas and the Middle East. Several major cities play unwitting host to a brood of these blind nightmares. Even where other Kindred are aware of the Baddacelli’s presence, these secretive Kindred keep their true numbers and the details of their existence to themselves. The Baddacelli survive, and they hunt in their lightless demesnes, and few indeed are the Kindred who would be willing to follow the Baddacelli into their catacombs to learn more of them than that.
Culture
Culture and cultural heritage
Background: Almost all Baddacelli are themselves the childer of other Morlocks — few indeed are the vampires, even among the Haunts, who would willingly choose their blind, subterranean existence. Given the rigors of their state, the Baddacelli seek potential childer who are emotionally resilient and already dwelling on the fringes of society. Fortunately for the bloodline, the sort of person who would enter and/or work in their domain in the first place frequently fit this description already. Often, the mortals they select for the Embrace are already blind, since many Baddacelli hope that their childer will not resent them for stealing their sight.
In recent nights, some Baddacelli have been seeking potential childer proficient with modern communications and technology to bring into the fold. As voice recognition and other compensatory technologies improve, many Morlock broods see greater possibilities opening up to improve their access to the surface world (or at least its wealth of information) without placing themselves entirely at the mercy of sighted Kindred.
In the years that followed the Baddacelli’s defeat at the hands of the Sanctified, the vanquished brood hid in the catacombs beneath the city. As time passed and Botticello realized that the injuries to his eyes were not going to heal, he came to fear that his childer would abandon him rather than remain hidden with their blind patriarch. In secret, he began to place his closest childer under Vinculums, bonding them to him with the unnatural affection of the Blood. About this time, he was also beginning to realize the uncanny proficiency with sound that he was developing as the Blood, unable to heal his wounds, responded to his will by adapting to compensate for his new limitations.
Thus it was that the alterations taking place in his.
Vitae were transmitted to the childer of his brood even as they took root in his own undead body. In seeking to bond his childer to him, Botticelli unconsciously acted as Avus to his fledgling bloodline.
Fear spread through the brood even faster than the affliction. As one after the other of Botticello’s closest childer lost their vision, those who remained unaffected looked on with horror. It wasn’t long before the exodus began; vampires who had not yet succumbed to The Vinculum stole away in hopes of escaping the terrible curse on their line. For many this was a vain hope, as even partial Vinculums to their potent elder were sufficient to transfer his influence over their blood.
This established the pattern that would account for the bulk of the bloodline’s geographical expansion in the coming centuries. As a Baddacelli brood grows, sometimes a childe will flee — either to escape harsh treatment at the hands of elder broodmates or in hopes of evading the expression of the bloodline’s unique traits. In many such cases, the bloodline’s curse will defeat their hopes and manifest when their blood reaches the requisite potency.
It goes almost without saying that not every vampire of this line who attempted to transplant himself in this fashion was been successful. Particularly in the early nights of the bloodline when travel was far more difficult than it is today, many young Kindred met Final Death in the wilds between far-flung cities. In some cases, Kindred were rendered all but helpless when the bloodline’s curse manifested on the road. In other cases, they reached their destination, only to fail to survive the transition to the sightless condition when it came upon them in their new homes. As a result, the Baddacelli’s spread has been sporadic, and the cities that host these nightmares seem to bear no discernible geographical pattern. Great gaps exist between the homes of the Baddacelli in modern nights.
Invictus and Lancea Sanctum records indicate encounters with strange, pagan vampires in the Viking port of Horsens as early as AD 1000. As described, these blind Kindred dwelt in natural caves formed in the walls of the fjord, where a small cult brought them offerings of blood. These creatures claimed to be avatars of the Norse God of Night, Hödr. They maintained that Hödr, himself portrayed in myth as blind and able to summon visions of far-off lands, had bestowed blindness upon them to mark them out to his faithful, and granted them otherworldly senses that they might aid in protecting his mortal servants. As small and secretive as this cult was, the First and Second Estates declared it a violation of the First Tradition, and spent much blood in the effort to stamp it out. To this night, though the few remaining descendants of the Horsen brood now give nominal allegiance to The Invictus, it is not entirely clear that they have abandoned their pagan ways.
At least one brood of these Kindred is known to have made a home in the vast subway, service tunnel and sewer systems that existed beneath New York City some time around the middle of the 20th century. The leader of the brood then was a Morlock by the name of Hendrik, who first arrived in the city as a Haunt when it was still called New Amsterdam. He lost his sight only a few years before the English conquered the city, and as an influx of new Kindred asserted control, it was easy enough for him to go overlooked. So it was that he was able to accommodate himself to the rigors of his new existence with relatively little interference.
Hendrik had already established for himself a small brood before his presence was discovered. He reacted by immediately committing himself and his childer in service to the ruling Invictus, who elected to hold their noses and accept the advantages offered by fresh numbers in a segment of the city few other covenants would be in a position to contest. This move proved beneficial to the Baddacelli as well as their First Estate Allies over the years, at the cost of making the bloodline more visible than they would normally prefer to be. Hendrik fell into Torpor in the late 1980s, and the Baddacelli of his brood withdrew from the vampire Court en masse shortly thereafter. Rumor abounds that they remain politically active, but few Kindred can either confirm or refute this assumption directly; these Baddacelli are rarely seen.
It is unusual, however, for a Baddacelli brood to grow beyond half a dozen members. For while it is true that few Kindred are interested in descending into their midnight lairs to try and control their population, wise Baddacelli do not press their luck by overburdening their hunting grounds.
Unlife within the Baddacelli brood is rarely easy. Although there are few formal demands upon an individual Baddacelli’s time, the informal burdens of favor and loyalty can be quite demanding. The desire for acceptance and approval within their small families can be a strong motivator, and many Baddacelli fill their nights with works designed to please their broodmates and sires.
Even while forcibly separated from surface life, many Baddacelli share an intense curiosity about the surface world. They have learned from painful experience that changes in mortal and Kindred society can affect the bloodline in unexpected and unpleasant ways. Morlock broods value news of surface world developments, and members of the line who can reliably satisfy theircuriosity are accorded significant respect. Baddacelli, particularly younger ones, can often be found lurking in the shadows near subway stations, in the basements of government buildings or under sewer grates outside locations of cultural import to mortals and Kindred alike — anywhere that the Baddacelli’s sensitive ears can bring them important snippets to bring home to their brothers and sisters.
These fishing expeditions are not limited solely to information gathering, however. Baddacelli are forever collecting new sounds to add to their repertoire, and not merely to aid in hunting. Inevitably, members of a line who can mimic practically any voice they hear pick up a good deal of facility at singing. Elder members of the line can even reproduce the tones of any of a vast array of musical instruments, and the endless variety of musical styles and variations among the kine are a source of immense fascination.
As an outgrowth of their fascination with sound and music, a common Baddacelli pastime is a kind sonic one-upmanship. When blood supplies are good, entire nights can be devoted to vocal competitions, and even in lean times most broods will find a few minutes to devote to them. Rarely formal events, they will often start with a single Baddacelli uttering some unique, complex or newly acquired sound so that it echoes through the pitch-black lair of the brood. As the echoes die away, he will be answered by another of the brood, who will be answered by yet another in turn. The vocal stylings typically progress in complexity as each participant tries tooutdo the one who came before. Hauntingly beautiful melodies of original composition may give way to stylized reproductions of popular music, only to be followed in turn by an eerie reproduction of the sounds of a traffic accident or subway station at rush hour. These sounds and a near infinite variety of others float through the lightless catacombs inhabited by the Baddacelli.
As impressive as this spectacle may be, it is altogether different in character from what the Baddacelli can produce when they choose to sing in concert with each other. These occurrences are more rare than the competitive events, and usually more formally arranged. These are almost always staged for the brood alone, but the rare few occasions they have been displayed to any surface-dwelling Kindred have endeared the bloodline to The Circle of the Crone.
In either case, whether competitive posturing or cooperative singing, the experience is especially moving and disturbing to those mortals held as a captive Herd to these Kindred. Trapped in an a world of absolute darkness, subjected to the hungers of monstrous beings, the mortals cannot help but respond to the haunting sounds that assault them from the far corners of their lightless prisons. Many are moved to tears by the spectacle — though whether tears of longing or of despair even they may not know for sure.
In recent nights, some Baddacelli have been seeking potential childer proficient with modern communications and technology to bring into the fold. As voice recognition and other compensatory technologies improve, many Morlock broods see greater possibilities opening up to improve their access to the surface world (or at least its wealth of information) without placing themselves entirely at the mercy of sighted Kindred.
History
Botticello’s brood believed the theft of their sight was the product of some Theban Sorcery curse placed upon the line by The Lancea Sanctum. Botticello himself certainly espoused this belief. The truth is, however, that it is entirely the product of the line founder’s terrible injuries and fear of abandonment.In the years that followed the Baddacelli’s defeat at the hands of the Sanctified, the vanquished brood hid in the catacombs beneath the city. As time passed and Botticello realized that the injuries to his eyes were not going to heal, he came to fear that his childer would abandon him rather than remain hidden with their blind patriarch. In secret, he began to place his closest childer under Vinculums, bonding them to him with the unnatural affection of the Blood. About this time, he was also beginning to realize the uncanny proficiency with sound that he was developing as the Blood, unable to heal his wounds, responded to his will by adapting to compensate for his new limitations.
Thus it was that the alterations taking place in his.
Vitae were transmitted to the childer of his brood even as they took root in his own undead body. In seeking to bond his childer to him, Botticelli unconsciously acted as Avus to his fledgling bloodline.
Fear spread through the brood even faster than the affliction. As one after the other of Botticello’s closest childer lost their vision, those who remained unaffected looked on with horror. It wasn’t long before the exodus began; vampires who had not yet succumbed to The Vinculum stole away in hopes of escaping the terrible curse on their line. For many this was a vain hope, as even partial Vinculums to their potent elder were sufficient to transfer his influence over their blood.
This established the pattern that would account for the bulk of the bloodline’s geographical expansion in the coming centuries. As a Baddacelli brood grows, sometimes a childe will flee — either to escape harsh treatment at the hands of elder broodmates or in hopes of evading the expression of the bloodline’s unique traits. In many such cases, the bloodline’s curse will defeat their hopes and manifest when their blood reaches the requisite potency.
It goes almost without saying that not every vampire of this line who attempted to transplant himself in this fashion was been successful. Particularly in the early nights of the bloodline when travel was far more difficult than it is today, many young Kindred met Final Death in the wilds between far-flung cities. In some cases, Kindred were rendered all but helpless when the bloodline’s curse manifested on the road. In other cases, they reached their destination, only to fail to survive the transition to the sightless condition when it came upon them in their new homes. As a result, the Baddacelli’s spread has been sporadic, and the cities that host these nightmares seem to bear no discernible geographical pattern. Great gaps exist between the homes of the Baddacelli in modern nights.
Invictus and Lancea Sanctum records indicate encounters with strange, pagan vampires in the Viking port of Horsens as early as AD 1000. As described, these blind Kindred dwelt in natural caves formed in the walls of the fjord, where a small cult brought them offerings of blood. These creatures claimed to be avatars of the Norse God of Night, Hödr. They maintained that Hödr, himself portrayed in myth as blind and able to summon visions of far-off lands, had bestowed blindness upon them to mark them out to his faithful, and granted them otherworldly senses that they might aid in protecting his mortal servants. As small and secretive as this cult was, the First and Second Estates declared it a violation of the First Tradition, and spent much blood in the effort to stamp it out. To this night, though the few remaining descendants of the Horsen brood now give nominal allegiance to The Invictus, it is not entirely clear that they have abandoned their pagan ways.
At least one brood of these Kindred is known to have made a home in the vast subway, service tunnel and sewer systems that existed beneath New York City some time around the middle of the 20th century. The leader of the brood then was a Morlock by the name of Hendrik, who first arrived in the city as a Haunt when it was still called New Amsterdam. He lost his sight only a few years before the English conquered the city, and as an influx of new Kindred asserted control, it was easy enough for him to go overlooked. So it was that he was able to accommodate himself to the rigors of his new existence with relatively little interference.
Hendrik had already established for himself a small brood before his presence was discovered. He reacted by immediately committing himself and his childer in service to the ruling Invictus, who elected to hold their noses and accept the advantages offered by fresh numbers in a segment of the city few other covenants would be in a position to contest. This move proved beneficial to the Baddacelli as well as their First Estate Allies over the years, at the cost of making the bloodline more visible than they would normally prefer to be. Hendrik fell into Torpor in the late 1980s, and the Baddacelli of his brood withdrew from the vampire Court en masse shortly thereafter. Rumor abounds that they remain politically active, but few Kindred can either confirm or refute this assumption directly; these Baddacelli are rarely seen.
Society and Culture
Baddacelli are rarely found alone. Lone Morlocks are often relatively young vampires who fled their former broods and have only recently undergone the transition into the bloodline. These lonely vampires quickly learn the necessity of sighted retainers to aid them in their difficult nights. Haunts of Baddacelli lineage are well advised to keep Ghouls, if for no other reason than as insurance against the night when the curse finally descends. These blood slaves are often the first childer in a fledgling brood as well, simply because it would be potentially unwise to create another vampire who has such a significant advantage as sight without some means of ensuring his loyalty. As a result, it is relatively common for the brood leader in a domain to hold Vinculums over his eldest childe or two.It is unusual, however, for a Baddacelli brood to grow beyond half a dozen members. For while it is true that few Kindred are interested in descending into their midnight lairs to try and control their population, wise Baddacelli do not press their luck by overburdening their hunting grounds.
Unlife within the Baddacelli brood is rarely easy. Although there are few formal demands upon an individual Baddacelli’s time, the informal burdens of favor and loyalty can be quite demanding. The desire for acceptance and approval within their small families can be a strong motivator, and many Baddacelli fill their nights with works designed to please their broodmates and sires.
Even while forcibly separated from surface life, many Baddacelli share an intense curiosity about the surface world. They have learned from painful experience that changes in mortal and Kindred society can affect the bloodline in unexpected and unpleasant ways. Morlock broods value news of surface world developments, and members of the line who can reliably satisfy theircuriosity are accorded significant respect. Baddacelli, particularly younger ones, can often be found lurking in the shadows near subway stations, in the basements of government buildings or under sewer grates outside locations of cultural import to mortals and Kindred alike — anywhere that the Baddacelli’s sensitive ears can bring them important snippets to bring home to their brothers and sisters.
These fishing expeditions are not limited solely to information gathering, however. Baddacelli are forever collecting new sounds to add to their repertoire, and not merely to aid in hunting. Inevitably, members of a line who can mimic practically any voice they hear pick up a good deal of facility at singing. Elder members of the line can even reproduce the tones of any of a vast array of musical instruments, and the endless variety of musical styles and variations among the kine are a source of immense fascination.
As an outgrowth of their fascination with sound and music, a common Baddacelli pastime is a kind sonic one-upmanship. When blood supplies are good, entire nights can be devoted to vocal competitions, and even in lean times most broods will find a few minutes to devote to them. Rarely formal events, they will often start with a single Baddacelli uttering some unique, complex or newly acquired sound so that it echoes through the pitch-black lair of the brood. As the echoes die away, he will be answered by another of the brood, who will be answered by yet another in turn. The vocal stylings typically progress in complexity as each participant tries tooutdo the one who came before. Hauntingly beautiful melodies of original composition may give way to stylized reproductions of popular music, only to be followed in turn by an eerie reproduction of the sounds of a traffic accident or subway station at rush hour. These sounds and a near infinite variety of others float through the lightless catacombs inhabited by the Baddacelli.
As impressive as this spectacle may be, it is altogether different in character from what the Baddacelli can produce when they choose to sing in concert with each other. These occurrences are more rare than the competitive events, and usually more formally arranged. These are almost always staged for the brood alone, but the rare few occasions they have been displayed to any surface-dwelling Kindred have endeared the bloodline to The Circle of the Crone.
In either case, whether competitive posturing or cooperative singing, the experience is especially moving and disturbing to those mortals held as a captive Herd to these Kindred. Trapped in an a world of absolute darkness, subjected to the hungers of monstrous beings, the mortals cannot help but respond to the haunting sounds that assault them from the far corners of their lightless prisons. Many are moved to tears by the spectacle — though whether tears of longing or of despair even they may not know for sure.
Common Dress code
Appearance: Baddacelli prefer functional, utilitarian coverings able to withstand the rigors of their subterranean existence.
Their clothes are often worn and mismatched, owing at least in part to their owners’ inability to see what they are putting on. Those Baddacelli who interact with the surface with any regularity prefer hoods or concealing headgear to hide the bloodline’s signature deformities.
The eyes of the Baddacelli are useless, and often deformed in some way that makes this obvious to onlookers. Whether the Baddacelli’s visual organs are shriveled to mere vestiges, swollen and clouded or even absent altogether, anyone who can clearly see their faces can tell that these vampires are denied sight.
Their clothes are often worn and mismatched, owing at least in part to their owners’ inability to see what they are putting on. Those Baddacelli who interact with the surface with any regularity prefer hoods or concealing headgear to hide the bloodline’s signature deformities.
The eyes of the Baddacelli are useless, and often deformed in some way that makes this obvious to onlookers. Whether the Baddacelli’s visual organs are shriveled to mere vestiges, swollen and clouded or even absent altogether, anyone who can clearly see their faces can tell that these vampires are denied sight.
Art & Architecture
Haven: Baddacelli havens are frequently communal in nature, and almost always underground. It is simply too dangerous for the sightless Morlocks to dwell above ground, where an unseen crack in a wall or gap in the curtains could spell their doom with the rising sun.
Baddacelli take advantage of natural caverns and abandoned human constructions such as forgotten sewer chambers or decommissioned subway stations whenever possible, but will excavate their own tunnels when such convenient lairs are unavailable. Their havens are usually entirely lightless, or nearly so, and meticulously arranged with “landmarks” — objects placed so that the Morlocks who dwell there can easily memorize them and know their location within the unseen chamber, but guaranteed to impede the progress of strangers accustomed to relying on their eyes.
It is not unusual for Baddacelli broods to keep human herds caged in some portion of their communal Haven. Since hunting can be a challenge, they are loath to waste a potential food source once it is caught.
Baddacelli take advantage of natural caverns and abandoned human constructions such as forgotten sewer chambers or decommissioned subway stations whenever possible, but will excavate their own tunnels when such convenient lairs are unavailable. Their havens are usually entirely lightless, or nearly so, and meticulously arranged with “landmarks” — objects placed so that the Morlocks who dwell there can easily memorize them and know their location within the unseen chamber, but guaranteed to impede the progress of strangers accustomed to relying on their eyes.
It is not unusual for Baddacelli broods to keep human herds caged in some portion of their communal Haven. Since hunting can be a challenge, they are loath to waste a potential food source once it is caught.
Major organizations
Covenant: Generally, an entire brood of Baddacelli within a city will claim membership in a single covenant. The nightly struggle for existence means that the broods rarely have the luxury of being able to bicker over politics. As a result, pressure to conform can be intense within a Baddacelli family.
Baddacelli crave stability, as unexpected shifts in footing tend to throw them off. Thus, they are very sympathetic to the philosophy of The Invictus, though the Baddacelli rarely rise to prominence within that organization. Baddacelli are most likely to be found doing the bidding of Invictus Princes and Sheriffs, acting as spies and enforcers among street-level (or lower-than-streetlevel) Kindred. This is not to say that the Baddacelli are necessarily unsophisticated in the machinations of the covenant, or that they are particularly subservient by nature. Indeed, more than one Baddacelli has amassed significant behind-the-scenes power in Invictus domains. It is simply that they prefer to stay out of the spotlight as much as possible while seeking to maintain the stability that Invictus rule tends to bring to a given city.
On very rare occasions, a Baddacelli will take a bolder position by operating openly in the Elysium Courts and salons of the First Estate. In these circumstances, a clever member of the line can make quite a name for himself as a Player. The powers of the bloodline grant the Baddacelli particular skill in skewering opponents with scathing impersonations, dissecting them down to the last vocal nuance. Others use their developed hearing to serve as unparalleled Librettists and Interpreters, applying their discerning judgment to the many sounds of the Court.
The Circle of the Crone is also a strong draw for the vampires of the Baddacelli line. Subterranean imagery and tales of descent and imprisonment in the underworld abound in the stew of pagan religions that makes up the Acolytes’ faith. And it can hardly be argued that the Baddacelli do not suffer trials, or that they fail to find knowledge and strength in the midst of those tribulations. As a result, members of the Circle make up probably the second highest proportion of the bloodline after those in The Invictus.
Among the Crones, Baddacelli are respected for their adaptability in the face of great hardship. But even more, their companions in the Circle prize the Baddacelli’s vocal talents. A vampire of this bloodline who chooses to turn his talents to song can be a haunting performer, and a chorus of Baddacelli raising a hymn to the varied manifestations of The Crone is an experience that no witness can ever forget.
Those Baddacelli who fight the Curse, on the other hand, find succor in The Ordo Dracul, where they are prized for their ability to find and occupy Wyrm’s Nests that form below ground. At the same time, they pursue transcendence with a fervor unmatched by vampires who do not bear the bloodline’s burdens. The promise of overcoming the disadvantages of their state is motive enough for some Baddacelli to join The Ordo Dracul.
Those few Baddacelli who embrace their cursed state may join The Lancea Sanctum. Those Baddacelli who do are exceedingly zealous, more so than many of their compatriots. Morlock Spears see themselves as ideally designed to serve as God’s Damned Hunters within the subterranean realms they claim. Perhaps ironically, Baddacelli Priests often become popular confessors despite the unease they engender in others. Since Sanctified Priests traditionally take confession face-to-face, giving confession to a blind vampire who prefers lightless environments provides many Kindred with an illusion of anonymity that helps to set them at ease.
When Baddacelli join The Carthian Movement, it is often because they are intrigued by the Movement’s claims of an egalitarianism that the Kindred of this bloodline have learned not to expect from other covenants. Still, the Baddacelli are latecomers to the Carthian fold. Only as they have seen the relative stability of certain mortal governments that conforms to Carthian principles have the Baddacelli developed any faith that the Movement can achieve a lasting degree of change. Even so, only the most experimental of the lineage have gravitated to The Carthian Movement, and at present, they remain the smallest proportion of the Baddacelli population.
Organization: The Baddacelli tend to gather in familial broods, usually dominated by the eldest member present in the city (who is often, but not always, the Morlock from whom the others descend). Contact between broods of different cities is rare, as few Baddacelli are willing to risk the rigors of travel after the Blood’s manifestation robs them of their sight.
Customarily, brood members are expected to contribute to the maintenance of the communal Haven, and to assist each other in hunting — especially the younger members for whom even acquiring enough Vitae to get by can be quite a challenge. Broods that have taken to keeping a captive Herd often find it efficient to delegate responsibility for care and maintenance to a single Baddacelli. This individual usually holds quite a bit of sway within the brood, due to his ability to withhold access to the Herd “to ensure the continuation of a healthy supply.”
Beyond these duties, individual Baddacelli are usually left to their own devices. The pecking order is otherwise pretty informal, with preference going to age (after all, few Baddacelli achieve a long unlife without some degree of wisdom) and ability to provide information on the surface world (provided security is maintained). A young Baddacelli with reliable surface Contacts can make a comfortable place for himself within the brood.
The lowest Status in a brood usually belongs to childer in whom the Blood has not yet manifested the Baddacelli’s specific curse. These young and sighted Kindred spend much of their time running errands for their elder, sightless broodmates.
Baddacelli crave stability, as unexpected shifts in footing tend to throw them off. Thus, they are very sympathetic to the philosophy of The Invictus, though the Baddacelli rarely rise to prominence within that organization. Baddacelli are most likely to be found doing the bidding of Invictus Princes and Sheriffs, acting as spies and enforcers among street-level (or lower-than-streetlevel) Kindred. This is not to say that the Baddacelli are necessarily unsophisticated in the machinations of the covenant, or that they are particularly subservient by nature. Indeed, more than one Baddacelli has amassed significant behind-the-scenes power in Invictus domains. It is simply that they prefer to stay out of the spotlight as much as possible while seeking to maintain the stability that Invictus rule tends to bring to a given city.
On very rare occasions, a Baddacelli will take a bolder position by operating openly in the Elysium Courts and salons of the First Estate. In these circumstances, a clever member of the line can make quite a name for himself as a Player. The powers of the bloodline grant the Baddacelli particular skill in skewering opponents with scathing impersonations, dissecting them down to the last vocal nuance. Others use their developed hearing to serve as unparalleled Librettists and Interpreters, applying their discerning judgment to the many sounds of the Court.
The Circle of the Crone is also a strong draw for the vampires of the Baddacelli line. Subterranean imagery and tales of descent and imprisonment in the underworld abound in the stew of pagan religions that makes up the Acolytes’ faith. And it can hardly be argued that the Baddacelli do not suffer trials, or that they fail to find knowledge and strength in the midst of those tribulations. As a result, members of the Circle make up probably the second highest proportion of the bloodline after those in The Invictus.
Among the Crones, Baddacelli are respected for their adaptability in the face of great hardship. But even more, their companions in the Circle prize the Baddacelli’s vocal talents. A vampire of this bloodline who chooses to turn his talents to song can be a haunting performer, and a chorus of Baddacelli raising a hymn to the varied manifestations of The Crone is an experience that no witness can ever forget.
Those Baddacelli who fight the Curse, on the other hand, find succor in The Ordo Dracul, where they are prized for their ability to find and occupy Wyrm’s Nests that form below ground. At the same time, they pursue transcendence with a fervor unmatched by vampires who do not bear the bloodline’s burdens. The promise of overcoming the disadvantages of their state is motive enough for some Baddacelli to join The Ordo Dracul.
Those few Baddacelli who embrace their cursed state may join The Lancea Sanctum. Those Baddacelli who do are exceedingly zealous, more so than many of their compatriots. Morlock Spears see themselves as ideally designed to serve as God’s Damned Hunters within the subterranean realms they claim. Perhaps ironically, Baddacelli Priests often become popular confessors despite the unease they engender in others. Since Sanctified Priests traditionally take confession face-to-face, giving confession to a blind vampire who prefers lightless environments provides many Kindred with an illusion of anonymity that helps to set them at ease.
When Baddacelli join The Carthian Movement, it is often because they are intrigued by the Movement’s claims of an egalitarianism that the Kindred of this bloodline have learned not to expect from other covenants. Still, the Baddacelli are latecomers to the Carthian fold. Only as they have seen the relative stability of certain mortal governments that conforms to Carthian principles have the Baddacelli developed any faith that the Movement can achieve a lasting degree of change. Even so, only the most experimental of the lineage have gravitated to The Carthian Movement, and at present, they remain the smallest proportion of the Baddacelli population.
Organization: The Baddacelli tend to gather in familial broods, usually dominated by the eldest member present in the city (who is often, but not always, the Morlock from whom the others descend). Contact between broods of different cities is rare, as few Baddacelli are willing to risk the rigors of travel after the Blood’s manifestation robs them of their sight.
Customarily, brood members are expected to contribute to the maintenance of the communal Haven, and to assist each other in hunting — especially the younger members for whom even acquiring enough Vitae to get by can be quite a challenge. Broods that have taken to keeping a captive Herd often find it efficient to delegate responsibility for care and maintenance to a single Baddacelli. This individual usually holds quite a bit of sway within the brood, due to his ability to withhold access to the Herd “to ensure the continuation of a healthy supply.”
Beyond these duties, individual Baddacelli are usually left to their own devices. The pecking order is otherwise pretty informal, with preference going to age (after all, few Baddacelli achieve a long unlife without some degree of wisdom) and ability to provide information on the surface world (provided security is maintained). A young Baddacelli with reliable surface Contacts can make a comfortable place for himself within the brood.
The lowest Status in a brood usually belongs to childer in whom the Blood has not yet manifested the Baddacelli’s specific curse. These young and sighted Kindred spend much of their time running errands for their elder, sightless broodmates.
Nickname: Morlocks
Character Creation: Baddacelli tend toward high Mental and Physical Attributes, with one of these usually being Primary and the other Secondary. Social Attributes are almost universally lowest in priority.
Skills are usually distributed similarly, with perhaps a stronger emphasis on Physical rather than Mental abilities. Survival is highly valued, as are Stealth, Brawl, Crafts and Investigation. The Baddacelli often acquire Specialties that will help compensate for their blindness in areas of focus (such as “grapples” or “blind fighting” for Brawl or “working by touch” for Crafts). Social Skills tend to focus on Intimidation, Subterfuge and Expression, the better to facilitate survival and misdirection on the societal fringe the Baddacelli call home.
Only a rare Baddacelli who acquires any significant amount of Resources. The often communal living arrangements of Baddacelli broods lend themselves well to the acquisition of Mentors within the bloodline, as well as shared Haven (Location) and Haven (Security) Merits. Baddacelli who have taken to imprisoning captured mortals to ensure a steady supply of Vitae may represent this with Herd. Finally, a substantial number of these Kindred will also maintain a one- or two-dot Retainer, who serves the role of seeing-eye dog and errand-runner in the surface world.
Bloodline Disciplines: Mimetismo, Nightmare, Obfuscate, Vigor
Weakness: All Baddacelli are blind. Thus, they automatically fail any action that requires vision to accomplish, and are at a significant disadvantage (–3 penalty at least) in most actions in which vision plays a significant role. Although advancement in Mimetismo can eventually compensate to a certain degree, the Baddacelli can never fully enjoy the advantages of sighted individuals. In combat, Baddacelli use the “Fighting Blind” rules found on p. 166 of the World of Darkness Rulebook.
Concepts: The thing under the tracks, pied piper, curious spelunker, mother of the lost, reclusive geologist, cryptozoologist, Braille teacher, underground musician, resentful engineer, has-been impressionist comic.
Several vampiric Disciplines require eye contact in order to be effective. The Baddacelli are not prohibited from learning these powers, but what happens when a vampire who cannot see — who might not even possess eyes at all — attempts to actually use them?
Probably the simplest solution is to assume that someone looking into the Baddacelli’s eyes (or, in some cases, where the eyes should be) may be affected by the power in question as normal. Storytellers may wish to impose a dice penalty on the activation roll, however, owing to the diffi culty in timing the use properly when you can’t actually see the eye contact. Other Storytellers may require the Baddacelli to develop particular Devotions in order to compensate (Auspex • + the Discipline in question would be appropriate).
Parent ethnicities
Skills are usually distributed similarly, with perhaps a stronger emphasis on Physical rather than Mental abilities. Survival is highly valued, as are Stealth, Brawl, Crafts and Investigation. The Baddacelli often acquire Specialties that will help compensate for their blindness in areas of focus (such as “grapples” or “blind fighting” for Brawl or “working by touch” for Crafts). Social Skills tend to focus on Intimidation, Subterfuge and Expression, the better to facilitate survival and misdirection on the societal fringe the Baddacelli call home.
Only a rare Baddacelli who acquires any significant amount of Resources. The often communal living arrangements of Baddacelli broods lend themselves well to the acquisition of Mentors within the bloodline, as well as shared Haven (Location) and Haven (Security) Merits. Baddacelli who have taken to imprisoning captured mortals to ensure a steady supply of Vitae may represent this with Herd. Finally, a substantial number of these Kindred will also maintain a one- or two-dot Retainer, who serves the role of seeing-eye dog and errand-runner in the surface world.
Bloodline Disciplines: Mimetismo, Nightmare, Obfuscate, Vigor
Weakness: All Baddacelli are blind. Thus, they automatically fail any action that requires vision to accomplish, and are at a significant disadvantage (–3 penalty at least) in most actions in which vision plays a significant role. Although advancement in Mimetismo can eventually compensate to a certain degree, the Baddacelli can never fully enjoy the advantages of sighted individuals. In combat, Baddacelli use the “Fighting Blind” rules found on p. 166 of the World of Darkness Rulebook.
Concepts: The thing under the tracks, pied piper, curious spelunker, mother of the lost, reclusive geologist, cryptozoologist, Braille teacher, underground musician, resentful engineer, has-been impressionist comic.
But He Doesn't Have Eyes!
Several vampiric Disciplines require eye contact in order to be effective. The Baddacelli are not prohibited from learning these powers, but what happens when a vampire who cannot see — who might not even possess eyes at all — attempts to actually use them?Probably the simplest solution is to assume that someone looking into the Baddacelli’s eyes (or, in some cases, where the eyes should be) may be affected by the power in question as normal. Storytellers may wish to impose a dice penalty on the activation roll, however, owing to the diffi culty in timing the use properly when you can’t actually see the eye contact. Other Storytellers may require the Baddacelli to develop particular Devotions in order to compensate (Auspex • + the Discipline in question would be appropriate).