Frontier Domain

Frontier Domains

A domain can be said to be “desirable” for vampires as long the area provides enough mortals who are active after dark to facilitate feeding. From that point, the commonalities in what various vampires find appealing in a domain vanish quickly.
Within The Carthian Movement, the various positions of the members make domains of differing characteristics seem good choices, and, indeed, some of the domains in which the Carthians choose to dwell are among the worst, from other Kindred’s perspectives. But the notion that hardships force the Kindred to keep their wits about them, keep the Beast in check but honed and keep the Man in control but wary is not uncommon as a Carthian philosophy. As such, when a domain opens up due to aggression, natural (or supernatural) disaster or any other circumstancethat makes for harsh existence among the Kindred, The Carthian Movement often moves in to take up the slack. Members of the Movement often refer to these sorts of places as “frontier domains,” because, although the literal borders of the domain are probably well defined, the greatest danger in them is what waits to be discovered.

Claiming a Frontier Domain

The first thing to consider when claiming a frontier domain is how that domain became “wild.” What happened to the Kindred who claimed the domain before, if there were any? Are the dangers that cost them the domain still a factor? Indeed, do the Carthians even know what happened, or is investigating the circumstances a major part of claiming the domain for them? What follows are a few possibilities for how a domain might suddenly become open territory.
  • Aggression from other vampires: Normally, if one of the other covenants takes out a city’s resident vampires, the covenant does so with an eye toward replacing them rather than simply exterminating them. Exceptions occur, of course. The Lancea Sanctum occasionally harbors hardliner factions that might mark all vampires in a given city for Final Death as part of some twisted attempt at purification, while The Ordo Dracul subscribes to odd notions about “Wyrm’s Nests” and their energy poisoning a city’s Kindred. Generally, though, if vampireon- vampire aggression is responsible for opening a city, either Belial’s Brood or VII are involved.
    An attack by Belial’s Brood doesn’t tend to be the only factor when a city’s Kindred population is wiped out. These vampires are too wild and unfocused to track down all of the vampires in a domain. That said, some vampires are bound to flee once the profile of the Kindred in the area is raised, and some would rather run (or go to ground) than face the Brood. Also, Belial’s Brood tends to attract vampire hunters and, worse, VII, so it’s not unknown for a city to be bereft of Kindred a few months after the Brood arrives.
    VII, on the other hand, is often more subtle. Weeks after the first murder (which may or may not have been identified as the work of this mysterious faction), members of the last surviving coterie might realize that they are alone. Once the Kindred are removed from a city, VII moves on — at least, the vampires who claim the empty city hope so.
  • Aggression from other supernatural forces: Werewolves, mages and other supernatural denizens of the World of Darkness don’t have anything in particular against vampires as a race. That said, the right group of werewolves or mages might, for whatever reason, decide that the vampires in the city need to die and have the Resources to pull off such a culling. In such an instance, the incoming Carthians probably don’t have much idea what happened to their predecessors (though tracking down and interrogating a survivor or a survivor’s ghoul might make for an interesting story), and that means they need to be extra careful when they claim the domain because they don’t know what they’re looking for.
  • Vampire hunters: Sometimes mortals summon up the strength of will to hunt the Kindred. Often, this is out of a desire for revenge, but religious fervor is another common motive. In any case, such mortals are rare, and so groups of them are even rarer, which is fortunate for the Kindred. One mortal isn’t usually much of a threat, but the danger grows exponentially with each additional hunter. A large enough cell could conceivably destroy a small city’s Kindred population, especially if the cell is working in tandem with another force, knowingly or not. This would beg the question of how the hunters could identify the Kindred, of course (perhaps a traitor vampire is aiding them?), and whether they would be willing to, say, burn buildings to destroy powerful vampires, but those are questions individual Kindred can confront.
    As an interesting side note, since Carthians often assimilate and restructure mortal practices, what if the incoming Carthians captured or simply observed these hunters and took their model of perseverance, righteous anger and self-sacrifice (because vampire hunters are living on borrowed time and they know it) to heart? What would these Carthians focus that aggression on? What would they hunt?
  • Natural disaster: The Kindred have, perhaps, more to fear from natural disasters than mortals do. True, being buffeted by debris in a tornado isn’t likely to cause Final Death, and of course a vampire won’t drown in a flood, but natural disasters destroy shelter, leaving Kindred exposed to other elements. On the other hand, a citywide inferno isn’t something any Kindred of any covenant wishes to face. What’s more, natural disasters force mortals together into tight groups for intolerable periods of time, making feeding difficult. Even though a natural disaster isn’t likely to actually destroy the Kindred of a city, a catastrophe can send them running for more hospitable climes. Sometimes, The Carthian Movement slips induring the chaos and tries to establish itself.
    Catastrophes give the Carthians good opportunities to become fixtures in a city. They might patrol the city by night, looking for survivors with enough Vitae to be useful. Kindred blessed with monetary wealth might donate some of those funds to charitable organizations or, more likely, purchase medical Equipment that they can then loan out (and retrieve when the time has come). One particularly brazen group of Carthians actually held a midnight blood drive in a city torn apart by an earthquake. (Tragically, that blood never reached its intended recipients. A fire reportedly destroyed the supply.)
  • Disease: Similar to but more insidious than natural disaster, an outbreak of a disease can scatter the Kindred. Most diseases do not affect Kindred (see below, however), but as the mortal Herd sickens, feeding becomes scarce. Not only that, but spreading a disease from one vessel to another is frighteningly simple.
    With all of that in mind, a disease must be extremely potent to clean out the Kindred of a city. Smaller towns are more prone to this occurrence, since they don’t have the profligate Kindred population that bigger metropolises do. Even in cities, though, if a disease strikes at a particular class of people (the same class that has been coincidentally feeding the city’s vampires), the result can be much the same.
    The Carthians adapt very well to this kind of problem. They simply shift their feeding habits and steer clear of sick people for a while. Therefore, although a disease won’t normally empty a city of Kindred, a disease can certainly pave the way for more adaptable vampires to take power, a fact not lost on Carthians willing to stoop to a kind of biological warfare.
  • Supernatural disaster: Aggressive action by strange creatures isn’t the only way that supernatural forces can depopulate a domain of vampires. Mystical diseases can spread among the Kindred, driving them into Torpor or rotting them away. A magical ritual gone awry can release strange entities that destroy the city’s vampires in the space of a few hours. One story even claims that a series of lightning bolts struck every vampire in one domain over the course of a five-hour storm, reducing them to ash in the blink of an eye. The vampire who thinks she has seen everything the World of Darkness has to offer is a fool.
    As with aggressive supernatural action, a supernatural disaster often leaves no hard evidence as to the true nature of what destroyed or drove off the Kindred. The Carthians, therefore, are quite likely to come up with other, more rational explanations for discovering a domain that seems desirable and yet has no vampiric population. As the new residents explore the city and learn its past, however, they often come across evidence of recent vampiric activity and wonder where these Kindred went. Investigating a supernatural disaster might be the only way to know the truth. Of course, an investigation might also be a good way for history to repeat itself.
Once the incoming Carthians know what happened in their chosen domain, or at least know enough to make a start, they need to cope with any pre-existing supernatural elements therein. This usually doesn’t include vampires, obviously, but, depending on the nature of the event that drove out the previous Kindred, there might still be a few of the undead lurking about. For instance, if the city’s vampiric elite all feed from the same Herd (say, a particularly large mortal family and its sycophants),and that family succumbs to a disease that, in turn, incapacitates or destroys their Kindred parasites, the Carthians might simply sweep in to take the reins of power before someone else does. In such an instance, other vampires of the domain who have been waiting for a chance at power might well take exception, but that just means that the Carthians’ first task is to show why they should be in control.
More often, though, a city has dark secrets that have nothing to do with the Kindred. A pack of werewolves might hunt the area that the Carthians wish to use as the Rack, and that Merits investigation. Preliminary evidence might suggest that vampires just disappear in a particular suburb of the city, and that means that a coterie should go out there and have a look around. The hurricane that left vampires exposed to the sun might have uncovered evidence of their existence in the form of letters, and that means someone needs to retrieve those articles. Before getting down to the business of running a city’s nights, the Carthians need to be sure that the city is going to remain inhabitable.
This doesn’t mean, of course, that the Movement doesn’t jump the gun occasionally. It happens that a headstrong group of Carthians, trying to set themselves up as a credible force in vampiric society and ward off any other buzzards come to feast on a city’s corpse, move into a domain and establish their rules right away. Unfortunately, once the Kindred become entrenched in their societal concerns, the maintenance of the city falls by the wayside, especially if the tasks involved in maintenance consist of dangerous investigation. A city founded on impatience tends to hide secrets of a most deadly variety.
After the Kindred have determined that the city is safe (or at least declared that it is safe), the next step is usually a gathering of the city’s Carthians. Sometimes this meeting is open to vampires of other covenants as well, but normally there is first a preliminary meeting at which major titles and offices are decided, followed by an open meeting to decide upon lesser offices and figureheads. What form the meeting takes depends, of course, on the Carthians in question. It might be a town-meeting- style affair in which any vampire can stand and be heard. It might be a primitive discussion in a forum at which the eldest speak first. It might take place in a function space at a hotel or at a private club, depending on the bent and influence of the Kindred in question.
Security is paramount during these meetings. No matter the format, every vampire present (or, at least, the ones the vampires in charge of the meeting deem important) knows the escape routes, and most of the participants are armed and well fed. This is doubly true if the city was emptied by VII or other aggressive supernatural force — it wouldn’t do if the city’s new Kindred inhabitants met Final Death before even getting started.
Fruitful meetings acknowledge any lingering threats, and, to qualify as a “frontier domain,” something must be acting as a threat to the Kindred. The Carthians might not have any idea what that threat truly entails, but they warn all present that safety is not a guarantee when dwelling in the city. This, of course, frees the eminent leaders from a certain degree of responsibility.
Just holding the meeting goes a long way toward establishing the Carthians as the vampires in charge of the domain. From there, it’s just a matter of making sure they can enforce any decisions they make (see below).

Characteristics of Frontier Domains

While, of course, every domain is different, frontier domains do have some commonalities.
  • Violence: Unlife in a frontier domain is not peaceful. The Kindred in such domains are under the gun, and they know it. The usual Kindred practice of allowing slights and insults to fester until one can take revenge at a later date, therefore, tends to fall out of vogue quickly. Fistfights or pistol duels to settle minor differences are quite common, and two Kindred fighting to the death over matters that would be resolved with rumormongering in more “civilized” domains is not unheard of. Most of the Kindred of the city tend to have some skill in martial practices, be it marksmanship, hand-to-hand combat or weaponry. Those who don’t have those skills either develop them quickly or get used to insults and bullying.
    While many frontier domains have rules against Kindred-on-Kindred violence, such rules go unenforced, and are only put in place so that if someone really gets out of control the Kindred leaders have a legitimate reason to put him down.
  • Tight coteries: Solitary Kindred are rare in frontier domains, just for simple survival reasons. A group of vampires has a much better chance of avoiding ambush or bad luck than a lone hunter. While trust is a rare commodity among vampires, frontier coteries are usually tight-knit Allies, and action against one is answered by retaliation from all of them. Covenant and clan are much less important among these coteries than reputation and accomplishment with the domain, meaning that new arrivals can expect to followed and even harassed until they prove themselves worthy of permission to stay in the domain.
    Frontier coteries normally function as a kind of mix between a rural family and a street gang. Most frontier coteries have their own tags that they leave on buildings in their turf, and have names that reflect the coterie’s reputation (“Dogcatchers” for a coterie that hunts werewolves), membership (“Warren’s Brood,” after a leader or even a common sire) or territory (“C2C” for a gang whose turf runs between Carpenter Street and Christian Avenue).
    Coteries in frontier domains normally share havens, but often have more than one. Temporary havens, making use of empty houses or other found space, are also common, depending on the nature of the threat in the domain.
  • Covenant representation: Although The Carthian Movement claims leadership of a given frontier domain, members of all five major covenants can usually be found in such cities. This is for two reasons. First, none of the other covenants likes to miss an opportunity, and since the Carthians tend to be lax about whom they’ll let into the city, having a few members around just makes sense, just in case something interesting happens. Second, if the Carthians should fail in their bid for the domain (with or without help from rivals), the covenants like to have someone already in place to scavenge or make a grab for power.
    Open conflict between the covenants, not usually common, is especially rare in frontier domains because the Kindred usually have enough on their collective plates already. That said, if the only Acolytes in town are known to set upon lone Kindred and drain them dry, any other members of The Circle of the Crone who arrive later aren’t likely to get a good reception.
    It does happen, of course, that the Carthians might attempt to bar a particular covenant from entering a domain. This usually relates to whatever situation opened the city up to the Carthians in the first place. For instance, one city in Spain became void of Kindred after a strange black fog blanketed the domain one night, seemingly causing any vampires the fog touched to choke to death. The Carthians took power shortly thereafter, and learned that the fog first oozed out of a church where The Lancea Sanctum was performing some kind of perverted Mass. The Carthiansdecreed that the Sanctified were not welcome in the city unless they were willing to explain exactly what happened, which, to date, has not happened.
  • Disciplines over sorcery: Although Sanctified and Acolytes are welcome in frontier domains (normally, though see above), Theban Sorcery and Crúac aren’t typically very popular among the members of their practitioners’ covenants. This might seem strange — after all, both forms of blood magic offer not only practical methods of survival but frames of reference to understanding any supernatural tragedy that might occur. This sorcery also, however, requires that the practitioner spend a great deal of time studying such magic, which runs counter to the frontier domain mentality of action and motion. The other concern is that The Lancea Sanctum and The Circle of the Crone keep their magic secret, which again is somewhat antithetical to frontier Kindred thinking (you should share everything with your coterie).
    In general, the physical Disciplines tend to be the most widely practiced in frontier domains. Gangrel willing to teach Protean often enjoy carte blanche when it comes to feeding rights and other such privileges, too.
  • Clearly defined areas: In some cities, asking three vampires where the Rack is might get three different answers. Not every vampire has the same tastes in victims, after all, and a socially savvy Kindred might find it easier to hunt in a club than among street people. In frontier domains, everyone knows where the best feeding can be found, and everyone knows what areas of the city are Barrens. The Carthians make it a point to define which areas are safe, which areas have seen Kindred destroyed or missing and which areas are virgin territory. Likewise, most frontier domains have Elysiums where the Carthians meet (and they or their agents can always be found — accessibility is important in a dangerous city), as well as several “dummy Elysiums” that Kindred refer to when talking out loud in order to lure anything that might be listening.
  • Leadership: The Carthians in charge of a frontier domain tend to be capable, strong and smart. If they aren’t, they meet Final Death or flee. Normally, the leader of a frontier domain is a single Kindred, rather than a group or committee. In a dangerous city, someone needs to be able to make decisions quickly, and that requires one mind rather than a team. The leader isn’t necessarily very old, but is always martially capable and usually intelligent, if not learned. Most of the time, he was a resident of the city in his mortal life.
    Sometimes, though, it’s hard to know who the real leader is — it’s not uncommon for a clever Carthian to help a less-capable but personable fellow to declare himself Prefect or Sheriff, and then lead the other Kindred in a lesser position while the nominal leader mollifies any complainants.
  • Visitors welcome: One interesting facet of frontier domains is that although strangers aren’t necessarily welcomed, they are normally welcome. The reason for this is simple, if a little cruel. The more Kindred in the city, the most chances to draw out any hostile forces. The more Kindred there are who don’t know the city well, the more fodder the experienced vampires have. As such, new arrivals might see some hazing from other coteries, but nothing fatal or even terribly inconveniencing. The locals are always watching, though, and if trouble comes looking for the newbies, the locals might jump in to help. Alternately, the locals might wait until the hostiles finish with the new Kindred and then mop them up . . . .

(D)Evolution of Frontier Domains

Of course, the Status quo cannot hold in a frontier domain. With so much tension, something must eventually change or break. What happens in such a domain depends on the Kindred involved, but in very general terms such domains can improve or self-destruct.
Improving a frontier domain usually means resolving whatever is threatening the Kindred in the city. In some cases, such as when the city is recovering from a natural disaster or a spate of disease, this is just a matter of patience. The mortals of the city will rebuild, and the Kindred just need the perseverance to wait things out. In cities where the threat comes from hunters, werewolves or other such arcane culprits, a more proactive approach is necessary. The Kindred of the city must confront these beings, or must be prepared to fight them and win when they show themselves. The Carthian Movement’s strengths, of course, are adaptability and willingness to admit when something isn’t working, and so, provided the odds aren’t stacked horribly against the Kindred, the Carthians can often prevail. Mind, it might take a few Final Deaths first, but that’s the necessary sacrifice of the frontier.
Once the threat is over, the situation in the domain stabilizes a bit. Rules become better codified and more strictly enforced, and some reshuffling of the city’s offices is typically in order. While some threats can never be said to be truly resolved (just because the Kindred destroyed one chthonic monster stalking the city for vampire hearts doesn’t mean another won’t arise), having a night that marked the end of the struggle does wonders for the mentality of the domain’s Kindred.The anniversary of the night that the threat finally fell, or the damage from the storm was repaired or the disease was finally eradicated within the city is often a celebration among the city’s vampires.
Sometimes, leaders among the Carthians find that, without the constant danger hanging over everyone’s heads, the tone of the city becomes too political for their tastes. These types of leaders thrive on a direct, unpredictable threat rather than the constant demands of diplomacy among the undead. At this point, such leaders often leave the city, though in some cases they find ways of “bringing back the old nights” by introducing a new danger to the city’s Kindred. Likewise, some Carthians don’t really try to end the threat in the first place, preferring the rugged, tense unlife of a frontier domain.
In such cities, or in domains where the threat can’t be addressed for whatever reason, the situation tends to worsen rather than stay stable. Falling into any kind of equilibrium is difficult when one is constantly in danger. Kindred are creatures of routine, much as the mortals the Kindred once were: when having a routine can be deadly, it throws everything out of joint. Thus, Paranoia and violence escalate in frontier domains if the situation does not improve. Every time a vampire dies, the other Kindred in the city ask if the death was the fault of the domain or the fault of that unfortunate vampire’s enemies looking to cash in on the danger of the area. And, of course, since Kindred in frontier domains run in tight coteries, a death never goes unanswered. War between coteries is brief, but brutal. Breaches of the Masquerade attract hunters and investigators. Once the slide into utter chaos begins, the domain can be depopulated again within a month — and all without ever involving the true dangers of the domain.
It doesn’t have to be so dramatic or so quick, of course. Some frontier domains persist for years, even decades. The Carthians in charge move from fair and just leadership to ruling with an iron fist, taking tribute in favors or Vitae from the other vampires of the city. Of course, some leave, but many are afraid to do so, choosing instead to try and lure other coteries into the domain so as to have someone lower on the food chain than they. A frontier domain can become as much a nest of vipers as any vampiric domain. The only difference is that the vampires have something else to fear other than each other, and they know it.

Preventing Disaster

How can Carthians dwelling in frontier domains prevent a recurrence of the circumstances that opened the territory up for them? Indeed, how can these Kindred prevent a stable domain from becoming a frontier domain?
Obviously, some calamities are unstoppable. No vampire can stop a hurricane, and no vampire can predict a fire. Many Carthian domains, however, do observe some simple policies to avoid tragedy.
  • Know the Kindred: Strangers are dangerous. Some frontier domains enforce a “one warning, then one shot” policy — any Kindred who doesn’t identity herself gets a bullet. (This is, of course, not too much of a problem for the Kindred, but it does get their attention.) Most domains aren’t nearly this stringent, but many Carthian cities do keep track of the Kindred hunting within them. This usually isn’t very extensive. As long as the Kindred in charge know everyone’s name and perhaps sire or covenant leanings, the leaders feel they have enough information, though in some cases age and even clan are added to this profile. This doesn’t stop Kindred from lying about themselves, naturally, but the truth does tend to come out given enough time. The point is, the more complete information the Carthians have, the fewer surprises they face in a crisis.
  • Have escape routes: Good advice for vampires in general, the Carthians advise, especially in frontier domains, that all Kindred watch the doors and windows wherever they happen to be. Havens should be built with a secret door or a hatch leading to the basement or a room with a window. Some Carthians swallow a key to a storage unit or a spare car, just in case they need to flee quickly. (Retrieving the key is painful, of course, but at least it won’t be lost before the vampire needs it.) Intrinsic to the notion of keeping escape routes is staying fed. If a vampire needs to hole up for a while but doesn’t wish to enter Torpor, going to ground without any Vitae in her veins doesn’t do her any good.
  • Know the surrounding cities: Travel is unsafe, especially over long distances. Therefore, wise Carthians try to arrange communication with one or two nearby domains, just so they have someplace to flee if anything ever goes really wrong. Of course, the Kindred authorities in these cities might refuse to take refugees, even after years of amicable correspondence, but knowing the covenant and temperament of one’s neighbors is still better than just showing up one night and hoping to be welcomed.
  • Diversify: Focusing too much on one area of influence or expertise can be disastrous. If a Kindred places all of his funds in a safe-deposit box in a bank, what happens when that bank burns down? If a vampire works to cultivate Ghouls in the mayor’s office, what happens after that mayor leaves office? Even hunting in the same area every night is unwise, because it means that if the Kindred is forced to find other means of feeding he will be off balance and adjusting to new surroundings while looking for blood, which sets him up to lose control to the Beast. A wide and diverse range of knowledge about the city and what it offers is critical to avoiding catastrophe.
  • Don’t grow complacent: A rash of strange murders in the Barrens might be nothing more than a garden-variety serial killer, or it could be a vampire gone mad from degeneration or something stranger still. The Carthians strive to avoid the blasé attitude that dooms mortal society to ignorance. “If the Herd wanted to know,” a Carthian saying goes, “it would ask.” Carthian coteries that feel lost or directionless have only to ask their superiors within the covenant or the city for a suggestion on how to spend their nights, and they can be assured that unlife will grow interesting again.

Frontier Domain: Rot-Town

Presented here is an example of how a vampiric domain becomes a frontier domain, complete with game systems for the tragic events that catalyze everything and the methods that the incoming Carthians use to stabilize things. The city itself isn’t named; it can be any city in any country that has a good-sized mortal population and some industry.
A few years back, the city now called “Rot-town” among the Kindred was stable, at least among the undead. The vampires with the greatest amount of clout in the city belonged to The Lancea Sanctum, although The Invictus and The Ordo Dracul both had strong presences. A Gangrel named Tanner claimed the title of Abbot, and looked at the city as his personal testing ground — he would resist the impure impulses of his mortal mind and become a true Kindred in the eyes of the Lord.
The Lord, perhaps, saw fit to test Tanner beyond his ability. Or perhaps the disease that struck was, as was rumored, the work of The Circle of the Crone and their blood magic. The Ordo Dracul claim that its members were the first to discover “the Rot,” when they learned of a Wyrm’s Nest in the city’s largest cemetery. Unfortunately, their discovery spread to the other Kindred of the city.
The disease, clearly supernatural in origin, rotted away the Kindred from the inside out. Their organs, all but the heart, liquefied without doing any real damage to the vampires, but this caused their undead bodies to reek of decay. In advanced cases, black fluid would leak from the vampire’s lower orifices. No amount of Vitae could reverse this putrefaction, and the Kindred best suited to study it, The Ordo Dracul, were the first to fall to it. In a matter of months, most of the Kindred in the city had either fled or learned to cope with their disgusting new existence.
Then the hunters came.
The disease had sparked a rash of murders, as vampires fed to excess, trying to heal themselves. This attracted a band of mortals, some of whom had lost loved ones to the Kindred’s hunger and some who had simply noticed the undead skulking in their city (since the disease’s symptoms made it harder to hide). Following the stench and the trails of fluid, the hunters stabbed, staked, shot and burned the Kindred. For six months, no known Kindred called the city home.
Blythe Geary had been an immunologist before her Embrace into clan Mekhet, and was interested in the diseases that Kindred could pass along to their herds. Hearing about a disease that could actually affect vampires fascinated her. She gathered a number of fellow Carthians and explained that Rot-town made for an interesting experiment. Any Kindred who entered would have to be quarantined, meaning only Kindred truly brave enough to enter or dedicated enough to search for a cure would bother. She contacted the Kindred of nearby cities, who agreed that any vampire exiting the city was to be slain, in exchange for which Geary agreed to share the information she found about the disease with them. She and her coterie of Carthians entered the city the next night, knowing the work that lay ahead.
First, they needed to assess any lingering danger from the hunters. Blythe had brought Kindred with her who were not only skilled at medicine, but who were martially proficient as well (some of whom had been banished from other cities for breaches of Elysium and other violent offenses). They fed on the local mortals, lured the cell of hunters into the open and slew them over a period of months. While Blythe still isn’t sure the coterie got all of the hunters, there Haven’t been any attacks on the Kindred since one climactic ambush in late November. (Thanksgiving night has, among the Kindred of Rot-town, become a celebration of victory over these hunters.)
After dealing with the hunters, Geary and her coterie- mates started looking for survivors in earnest. They have not, to date, found any, but the disease is by no means dead. Every now and then, one of the Kindred in the city starts to exhibit symptoms. Geary has developed a cure involving spending a night soaking in some extremely caustic chemicals. This can stop the disease in its early stages, but once it progresses to the point that the Kindred starts oozing fluid, there is nothing she can to do help. She is working nightly on a real cure, but the answers are slow in coming. She recognizes that venturing back into the cemetery where the infection started would be useful, but doesn’t have the protective gear she’d need yet.
Geary is the recognized authority in the city. She makes decisions coldly and logically, and orders the execution of any vampire who attempts to leave the city, breaking the quarantine. She does not allow mention of God or religion at the Carthian meetings, stating that it is science and not superstition that will cure the Rot. Her coterie wears surgical masks when dealing with other Kindred; this gesture is largely symbolic, since the Rot spreads by touch or feeding from a common vessel, but does serve to represent the emotional distance they keep between themselves and the other vampires of the city. What no one yet realizes is that Tanner, the Abbot of the city, is still present. He hides in the cemetery most nights, in constant pain. He is suffering from an advanced case of the Rot, to the point that his footfalls make soft wet sounds from the fluid pooling in his body. He still believes that God will cure him if he makes the right offering.
Type
Expanse
Owning Organization

Why Carthians?
Frontier domains are not a uniquely Carthian phenomenon. Depending on the nature of the domain, intrepid Kindred from any covenant might try to claim such territory. Why, then, are these domains so commonly identified with the Movement?
Part of the reason is that the Carthians are willing to move quickly. Adaptability and ambition, as well as a focus on action, allow Carthians to set up shop in dangerous places more rapidly that most other covenants. This means a certain degree of sacrifice where caution is concerned, of course.
Another reason is simply that The Carthian Movement is the youngest of the covenants, and thus doesn’t have as much to fall back on in the way of history. When new territories become “up for grabs” it behooves the Movement to seize it. The other covenants already have their traditional domains. The Carthians are the ones who have the most to gain by taking risks, much like the settlers of the American West.
Finally, the experiments in social order undertaken by the Movement often require “virgin territory,” without an existing vampiric order. Frontier domains are the best source of this kind of clean slate. The alternative is rebuilding the Kindred society of a city wholesale, which is difficult logistically (and potentially risky morally, if the process is dire enough).