Mandragora
The majority of Kindred recognize the fact that mortals and animals can be fed Vitae and turned to Ghouls by the infusion of a vampire’s supernatural will. Few, however, realize that it’s also possible to force a similar alteration upon living plants.
Some who are aware of such a possibility might refer to such altered flora as a “plant ghoul,” but such a term is a misnomer, for the properties of a Vitae-infused plant differ from those granted to actual Ghouls. As such, most Kindred in the know call these creations mandrakes or mandragora, separating them appropriately from human or animal Ghouls.
A vampire who believes that he has a plant that meets the qualifications for the process is in for further effort that might be beyond his patience or abilities. Generally, the process requires at least three months. Once per month, the vampire must feed his own Vitae to the plant, typically by saturating the ground around it with Vitae. How much Vitae he feeds to the plant depends upon the size of it. A small tangle of English ivy requires significantly less than, say, a black locust tree. At this point, the plant is not yet a mandrake, though it takes the Vitae in through its root system. During these three months, the plant continues to have small amounts of the mystical Vitae broken down within it, and it doesn’t need any of the other life-sustaining elements (water, sun, nutrients from the soil) to survive.
Vitae isn’t the only requirement, however. This process doesn’t give the flora any kind of intelligence or awareness, but it does grant it a kind of singular instinct unseen in other plants, even in carnivorous plants. Part of this is due to the Blood, yes, but another part comes from the vampire’s own will. In this process, the Kindred actually infuses the vegetation with part of his own hunger and instinct, which awakens the plant to similar hungers.
Unfortunately, not all mandragora “take” after the three months have passed, and no one is precisely certain why. Some plants are assumed to be inherently weak; others figure that it’s the vampire himself who was too weak to foster such an aberrance of nature. Failed mandragora die quickly, usually over a period of a few hours. Green turns to brown, and healthy leaves and vines shrivel as if blasted by heat. The soil takes on a rotten smell like that of a bloated corpse.
One dominant exception separates mandragora further from animal or mortal Ghouls, however. From time to time, the mandrake can survive on non-Kindred blood. Every other month, a vampire can feed the mandrake an equivalent amount of blood from human or animal sources instead of from her own body, thus saving herself from diminishing her own Vitae.
Mandragora do not need the blood poured upon the ground, as they do when they are becoming Ghouls. The nature of the physiological changes allows a mandrake to consume blood through the plant’s stomata, hungry pores that open on leaves, thorns and flowers. These pores can consume blood poured over the mandrake, though old-fashioned Kindred can still feed their creations by soaking the surrounding soil in Vitae, as the root system still functions as a sustenancedelivery system.
The second thing is that the plant’s appearance changes. A quick glance might not reveal these changes, but any prolonged examination makes such physical alterations obvious. Healthy green turns to a sickly olive-drab, while any robust brown turns dark and almost dirty in appearance. And yet, this appearance of sickness is belied by an unnatural aura about the plant. Those looking upon the plant cannot help but note that it shouldn’t be alive, and yet, it’s quite apparent that it is alive and thriving. (Moreover, this aura of preternatural life swells and glows all the more after the plant has been fed blood.)
A mandrake takes on other odd characteristics, as well. It no longer grows, but its leaves, branches and vines seem to tangle inward upon one another. They no longer search out light or water, but instead snake together in a confusing snarl. That is, until some source of blood (human, animal or vampire) comes near. Should blood be nearby (whether contained in flesh or spilled out), the plant moves, slowly and slightly, to seek out the Vitae. Vines meander blindly toward the source, while leaves point toward the blood like organic dowsing rods.
Mandragora are incapable of actually attacking living creatures, simply due to their slow movement. Only a fool wouldn’t attempt to outdistance a pair of vines seeking the warm pulse on his neck. As such, it’s rare that a mandrake is capable of feeding itself. It’s not impossible, however. While a plant couldn’t consciously conceive of such a tactic, it’s possible that in searching out blood, vines or branches somehow trip or disable a human or animal, which might be enough to allow a whipping limb or curled thorn to sneak a taste. Alternately, some insects or animals might try to make a home out of a mandrake, perhaps by making a nest in its boughs or laying eggs upon the leaves. Such creatures might fall prey to the hungry plant. Of course, actually getting blood requires something sharp enough to cut flesh, which is why many vampires prefer mandragora with thorns or sharp branches.
Another substantial change in the vegetation is its inability to reproduce. Becoming mandragora destroys any chance the plant has of creating other plants. Most mandragora stop seeding and fruiting altogether. Those that continue produce hard, worthless seeds alongside bitter, shriveled fruit.
The final, though perhaps most important, physical change to take place is what happens inside the plant — the creation of lacrima.
Curiously, lacrima is similar enough to Vitae to allow some vampires (those of less potent blood) to gain nourishment from it. Unfortunately, such nourishment is negligible, providing only a fraction of the sustenance that even an animal’s blood could provide. Lacrima might run thick and taste strong, but its potency is too delicate to be used for feeding.
This sanguine Sap, however, offers other benefits and properties that some Kindred find intriguing. For one, the taste, while not exactly pleasant, is queerly compelling. So compelling, in fact, that some vampires become addicted to the taste, and to what they claim is a “rush” that accompanies it. The memorable flavor of lacrima alongside the potent sensation gained from drinking it has caused some vampires to attempt to manufacture and sell of bottles of this strange herbal claret. Such bottles rarely contain 100% lacrima, for few plants are able to produce high volumes of the fluid. Most bottles contain no more than one-third of the stuff, with the rest being some notable draught of blood (e.g., the blood of a wealthy man, the blood of a nun, the blood of a child). Vintners of such “wine” rarely sell such a product for money. Money, after all, comes easily. Such bottles are usually traded for items and secrets of significant value. Even higher prices can be inveigled from those rare few addicts who swoon at the thought of another taste.
One other notable property of lacrima is its effect upon mortals. The taste, while stimulating to the Kindred, is poisonous to humans. Lacrima enervates and diminishes the nerve endings of a mortal being, and such an effect is often permanent. The fluid rarely kills, except in large doses (and few are willing to waste this bloody Sap on something so meager as the murder of a human). The effect is instead one that deadens a person’s senses and the feeling upon skin. A teaspoon of the clotted Sap reduces the feeling of even the most heightened pain. Of course, it also causes the person’s limbs to work at half their previous efficiency, and it practically destroys any ability to taste or smell. The poisonous effects of lacrima don’t just affect mortals, however. Any animal feeding on the Sap suffers similar, or likely worse results. (Such effects can be seen around mandragora that are left open to nature, as the plant is surrounded by a few corpses of herbivorous creatures such as deer or rabbits.)
Drinking enough lacrima to restore one Vitae could create lacrima Addiction. This is exactly like Blood Addiction, but only in respect to lacrima. This Addiction is handled identically to Blood Addiction in all rolls and effects. This Addiction can be difficult to sate, because once the Kindred’s Blood Potency rises above 1, the lacrima stops providing nourishment and it must be appropriately blended with nourishing blood to slake the craving. Only Darling knows how to create such mixtures, though, as far as anyone knows. (At Storyteller’s discretion, it might be possible to find a recipe with some extensive legwork.)
Mortals who ingest lacrima immediately suffer ill effects, though less so if they are Ghouls. Ghouls merely throw up the lacrima. Regular mortals have no such luck. A mortal whose player fails a Stamina roll (with a –3 penalty; Toxin Resistance Merit applies) when the character ingests lacrima suffers one point of lethal damage and receives a –2 penalty to all rolls for the next 24 hours from numbness, weakness, and general lack of mental clarity. A tablespoon is enough to induce these effects. Further doses increase the effect. A tablespoon of lacrima is considered to have a toxicity rating of 1 + the number of tablespoons already ingested (see p. 181 of the World of Darkness Rulebook). A cup of lacrima is enough to kill most people.
The special properties of mandragora according to their Regnant’s clan are similar in effects to facets unique to that clan. In most cases, a target must ingest some of the lacrima for the effect to take place. Unless otherwise noted, the special effects of the lacrima are in addition to its poisonous and addictive properties.
Daeva lacrima is especially addictive to Kindred. The roll to avoid lacrima Addiction suffers a –2 penalty. To mortals, the poison of this lacrima isn’t damaging, but intoxicating. A mortal ingesting even a tablespoon of Daeva lacrima becomes euphoric and aggressive for the remainder of the night (subject to the same aforementioned Stamina roll; every two dots of Blood Potency the Regnant possess levies a –1 penalty, rounded up). The mortal also produces pheromones that act as a natural aphrodisiac. For the remainder of the night (or unless the mortal covers the scent somehow), all Seduction and other social rolls that would be favorably influenced by sex appeal receive a +2 bonus. In the morning, however, the lacrima burns through the mortal’s system, wracking him with pain and inflicting two points of lethal damage.
Gangrel mandragora are special indeed, becoming faster and more aggressive than other forms of vampiric plants. A mandrake fed with Gangrel Vitae takes on a particularly menacing appearance and gains an attack dice pool equal to its Regnant’s Blood Potency, attacking any sanguine creature other than its master.
Mekhet Kindred produce lacrima that causes nightmarish hallucinations in mortals. The mortal’s player makes the same Stamina roll (every two dots of Blood Potency the Regnant possess levies a –1 penalty, rounded up). If it fails, the victim suffers visual and auditory hallucinations for the remainder of the night. These experiences don’t spring from nowhere. The victim doesn’t seem creatures leap out of thin air, but might see shadows lengthen and reach for her or be unable to bear the sound of fingers drumming on a table. The effects are the same as listed on p. 177 of the World of Darkness Rulebook. Kindred and Ghouls do not suffer this effect from Mekhet lacrima.
Nosferatu vampires create mandrakes that constantly secrete a thin sheen of lacrima. This lacrima is so pale in color that it resembles water or dew, but unlike other forms of lacrima it works on contact. When it touches a mortal’s skin, it creates a stinging sensation in the flesh and auditory hallucinations of loud, high-pitched shrieks — the legendary “screaming roots” of the mandrake. Any time a mortal comes into contact with this poison, his player should roll Stamina. Every two dots of Blood Potency of the Regnant (round up), levies a –1 modifier to this roll, while the Toxin Resistance Merit bestows its normal benefit. If the roll fails, the mortal suffers as described under a Nightmare 2 (Dread) for the remainder of the night. If the roll is a dramatic failure, the mortal suffers as though a vampire had used Dread on him and achieved an exceptional success. Nosferatu lacrima has no special effect on Kindred or Ghouls.
Ventrue produce lacrima that weakens the will of anyone who imbibes it. The victim must roll Stamina as described (every two dots of Blood Potency the Regnant possess levies a –1 penalty, rounded up). If the Stamina roll fails, the mortal becomes highly suggestible. All Resolve and Composure rolls suffer a –3 penalty for the remainder of the night. Ghouls are subject to this effect, but Kindred are not.
This weaker Vinculum is formed immediately after the first drink, provided the plant becomes mandragora and does not perish.
Some who are aware of such a possibility might refer to such altered flora as a “plant ghoul,” but such a term is a misnomer, for the properties of a Vitae-infused plant differ from those granted to actual Ghouls. As such, most Kindred in the know call these creations mandrakes or mandragora, separating them appropriately from human or animal Ghouls.
Creating Mandragora
Many Kindred who try to turn a plant into mandrake often face disappointment. Mandragora are rare and unusual specimens that cannot be made from most plants. The majority of flora, in fact, are simply too delicate to support the physiological and supernatural changes intrinsic to the process. As such, only the toughest plants are candidates for this bizarre enhancement. Qualifying plants are ones that are capable of surviving varying qualities of soil, temperature and pollution. Some trees are particularly robust, as are many of the plants known as “invasive” or “alien,” meaning plants that grow unfettered and are notoriously difficult to destroy.A vampire who believes that he has a plant that meets the qualifications for the process is in for further effort that might be beyond his patience or abilities. Generally, the process requires at least three months. Once per month, the vampire must feed his own Vitae to the plant, typically by saturating the ground around it with Vitae. How much Vitae he feeds to the plant depends upon the size of it. A small tangle of English ivy requires significantly less than, say, a black locust tree. At this point, the plant is not yet a mandrake, though it takes the Vitae in through its root system. During these three months, the plant continues to have small amounts of the mystical Vitae broken down within it, and it doesn’t need any of the other life-sustaining elements (water, sun, nutrients from the soil) to survive.
Vitae isn’t the only requirement, however. This process doesn’t give the flora any kind of intelligence or awareness, but it does grant it a kind of singular instinct unseen in other plants, even in carnivorous plants. Part of this is due to the Blood, yes, but another part comes from the vampire’s own will. In this process, the Kindred actually infuses the vegetation with part of his own hunger and instinct, which awakens the plant to similar hungers.
Unfortunately, not all mandragora “take” after the three months have passed, and no one is precisely certain why. Some plants are assumed to be inherently weak; others figure that it’s the vampire himself who was too weak to foster such an aberrance of nature. Failed mandragora die quickly, usually over a period of a few hours. Green turns to brown, and healthy leaves and vines shrivel as if blasted by heat. The soil takes on a rotten smell like that of a bloated corpse.
Sustaining Mandragora
Plants that survive to become mandrakes require vampiric Vitae to survive. Nothing else is required to keep the plant in its strange state between life and death. The plant doesn’t need sunlight, it requires no water or fertilizers. It gains its entire sustenance from the Blood. How much it requires is dependent upon the size of the plant. Small plants might require as little as a single Vitae per month, whereas larger plants (trees, for instance) might need as many as three. Without this sanguine sustenance, a plant withers and dies after a full month has passed without Vitae. It doesn’t revert to being a living plant, it simply perishes over the course of several hours.One dominant exception separates mandragora further from animal or mortal Ghouls, however. From time to time, the mandrake can survive on non-Kindred blood. Every other month, a vampire can feed the mandrake an equivalent amount of blood from human or animal sources instead of from her own body, thus saving herself from diminishing her own Vitae.
Mandragora do not need the blood poured upon the ground, as they do when they are becoming Ghouls. The nature of the physiological changes allows a mandrake to consume blood through the plant’s stomata, hungry pores that open on leaves, thorns and flowers. These pores can consume blood poured over the mandrake, though old-fashioned Kindred can still feed their creations by soaking the surrounding soil in Vitae, as the root system still functions as a sustenancedelivery system.
Physical Properties
The first thing a vampire might notice about a mandrake is that it moves. Such movement is slight, nothing so drastic as flailing branches or thrashing roots. Leaves tremble, boughs sway slightly, vines seem to creep and slither.The second thing is that the plant’s appearance changes. A quick glance might not reveal these changes, but any prolonged examination makes such physical alterations obvious. Healthy green turns to a sickly olive-drab, while any robust brown turns dark and almost dirty in appearance. And yet, this appearance of sickness is belied by an unnatural aura about the plant. Those looking upon the plant cannot help but note that it shouldn’t be alive, and yet, it’s quite apparent that it is alive and thriving. (Moreover, this aura of preternatural life swells and glows all the more after the plant has been fed blood.)
A mandrake takes on other odd characteristics, as well. It no longer grows, but its leaves, branches and vines seem to tangle inward upon one another. They no longer search out light or water, but instead snake together in a confusing snarl. That is, until some source of blood (human, animal or vampire) comes near. Should blood be nearby (whether contained in flesh or spilled out), the plant moves, slowly and slightly, to seek out the Vitae. Vines meander blindly toward the source, while leaves point toward the blood like organic dowsing rods.
Mandragora are incapable of actually attacking living creatures, simply due to their slow movement. Only a fool wouldn’t attempt to outdistance a pair of vines seeking the warm pulse on his neck. As such, it’s rare that a mandrake is capable of feeding itself. It’s not impossible, however. While a plant couldn’t consciously conceive of such a tactic, it’s possible that in searching out blood, vines or branches somehow trip or disable a human or animal, which might be enough to allow a whipping limb or curled thorn to sneak a taste. Alternately, some insects or animals might try to make a home out of a mandrake, perhaps by making a nest in its boughs or laying eggs upon the leaves. Such creatures might fall prey to the hungry plant. Of course, actually getting blood requires something sharp enough to cut flesh, which is why many vampires prefer mandragora with thorns or sharp branches.
Another substantial change in the vegetation is its inability to reproduce. Becoming mandragora destroys any chance the plant has of creating other plants. Most mandragora stop seeding and fruiting altogether. Those that continue produce hard, worthless seeds alongside bitter, shriveled fruit.
The final, though perhaps most important, physical change to take place is what happens inside the plant — the creation of lacrima.
Lacrima
Lacrima (also referred to as “mandrake tears”) is a thick Sap found in the stalks, branches and veins of all mandragora. This rust-colored fluid runs thick, less like fresh blood and more like older, congealing Vitae. It even smells like thickening blood, exuding an acrid odor of decay.Curiously, lacrima is similar enough to Vitae to allow some vampires (those of less potent blood) to gain nourishment from it. Unfortunately, such nourishment is negligible, providing only a fraction of the sustenance that even an animal’s blood could provide. Lacrima might run thick and taste strong, but its potency is too delicate to be used for feeding.
This sanguine Sap, however, offers other benefits and properties that some Kindred find intriguing. For one, the taste, while not exactly pleasant, is queerly compelling. So compelling, in fact, that some vampires become addicted to the taste, and to what they claim is a “rush” that accompanies it. The memorable flavor of lacrima alongside the potent sensation gained from drinking it has caused some vampires to attempt to manufacture and sell of bottles of this strange herbal claret. Such bottles rarely contain 100% lacrima, for few plants are able to produce high volumes of the fluid. Most bottles contain no more than one-third of the stuff, with the rest being some notable draught of blood (e.g., the blood of a wealthy man, the blood of a nun, the blood of a child). Vintners of such “wine” rarely sell such a product for money. Money, after all, comes easily. Such bottles are usually traded for items and secrets of significant value. Even higher prices can be inveigled from those rare few addicts who swoon at the thought of another taste.
One other notable property of lacrima is its effect upon mortals. The taste, while stimulating to the Kindred, is poisonous to humans. Lacrima enervates and diminishes the nerve endings of a mortal being, and such an effect is often permanent. The fluid rarely kills, except in large doses (and few are willing to waste this bloody Sap on something so meager as the murder of a human). The effect is instead one that deadens a person’s senses and the feeling upon skin. A teaspoon of the clotted Sap reduces the feeling of even the most heightened pain. Of course, it also causes the person’s limbs to work at half their previous efficiency, and it practically destroys any ability to taste or smell. The poisonous effects of lacrima don’t just affect mortals, however. Any animal feeding on the Sap suffers similar, or likely worse results. (Such effects can be seen around mandragora that are left open to nature, as the plant is surrounded by a few corpses of herbivorous creatures such as deer or rabbits.)
Rumors of Taste
Aside from the known effects of mandrake tears, many Kindred also purport that the sanguine Sap can be used for a number of other mysterious purposes. A few such assertions follow:- Vampires suffering from the fog of memory associated with particularly potent blood and Torpor can experience moments of clarity when fed mandrake tears. Others suggest that particularly ancient vampires can even stave off Torpor for a time by consuming lacrima mixed with other as-yet-unmentioned reagents.
- The Order of the Dragon claims that feeding lacrima to a ghoul does not poison the thrall, but instead makes the thrall’s own blood poisonous to mortals and vampires. They say the ghoul’s blood is poisonous for seven hours following the ingestion of the lacrima.
- Some say that the secretive covenant called VII uses lacrima in a number of ways. One of those ways is said to help covenant members use their Disciplines more efficiently. (Supposedly using lacrima to power physical Discipline increases their potency.) Rumors suggest that another use is that lacrima ameliorates the covenant’s grotesque mind-control techniques.
- The Circle of the Crone reportedly uses lacrima in secret rituals, mixing it with other infusions gained from toxic plants. Allegedly, the Circle believes that drinking this concoction grants hallucinogenic visions that allow users to speak to ancient dark gods.
Examples
Some plants are able to sustain the mandrake condition, while others perish for being too frail. What follows is a list of plants that are known to be able to hold the biological and supernatural changes intrinsic to the process.- English Ivy: Also known as Hedera helix, English ivy is an invasive plant that winds about trees and other flora and is sustained almost like a parasite. The natural version grows quickly, carpeting a forest floor in what is generally termed an “ivy desert,” destroying any biodiversity present. The mandrake version of this plant is somewhat different. The process stunts the ivy’s outof- control growth and tends to reduce its potential spread to that of 10 square feet or so. Also, the vine itself tends to grow fatter (sometimes as fat as a man’s thumb) to help contain the mandrake’s lacrima. Starting with a young and small patch of ivy requires only one Vitae per month. Larger patches (those that measure more than three feet square) require two.
- Roses: Almost all varieties of rose are hearty enough to sustain becoming mandragora, regardless of the size of the plant, length of thorn or style and color of the bloom. Roses take on a few unique conditions once imbued with a vampire’s essence. First, a mandrake rose’s bloom changes. No matter what its original color was, the bloom becomes what some growers call a black rose, even though the color is actually a deep, dark crimson. Second, a rose blooms only after being fed blood. A blood-born bloom continues for a full month after the feeding. Third, a mandrake rose becomes more susceptible to a dark fungus found on the leaves called blackspot. Blackspot doesn’t kill the rose (as it might if it were not mandragora), but it renders some leaves warped and bent with shadowy spots crusted upon them. Roses require one Vitae per month to sustain.
- Teasel: Teasel is a thistle with small, sharp spines and little violet flowers. It’s not a particularly attractive plant, but some Kindred favor it because it doesn’t need to be cut or otherwise damaged for the gathering of lacrima. This plant (also sometimes known as Venus’s Basin) has several upper leaves that join around the stem and form a cup. Once, the Greeks favored drinking the collected rainwater from this botanical basin for its unproven medicinal properties. As mandragora, water doesn’t necessarily collect in this cup, but lacrima does. Over the period of a week, this floral bell fills with the rusty Sap. This Sap figures into a few of the more esoteric rituals of The Circle of the Crone. Teasel requires one Vitae per month to sustain.
- Black Locust: Few trees seem to be able to sustain the mandrake condition. Many affected trees die — their bark turning black and their leaves withering off the branch. The process takes anywhere from a few hours to a few days. Moreover, not many Kindred are willing to invest the time and Vitae necessary to feed a whole tree. One tree remains a certain survivor, however, should a vampire choose to take the step of making it mandragora. The black locust tree is an aggressive, robust tree. Its bark is darkly colored and lined with small thorns. The branches are crooked and twisted (appearing doubly so in winter, when the leaves are gone). Black locusts become even stranger looking as mandrakes. The branches twist further, the thorns grow one or two inches longer, and the leaf covering becomes sparse and inconsistent. Some Ordo Dracul Kindred are said to have a brooch featuring a silhouetted image of a thorny black locust. The reasoning for this is as yet unknown. Such trees require three Vitae per month to sustain.
The Blood and the Wine: Lacrima
The standard effects of lacrima were covered in Chapter One, but it is worth reiterating them here and putting some specific rules effects on this special substance. Only Kindred with Blood Potency 1, or who have learned the Blood of Beasts tier of The Coil of Blood, may feed on lacrima and gain any nourishment. Even then, to gain a single Vitae, a vampire would have to consume all of the lacrima a mandrake creates in a month, thus negating its ability to “feed” itself.Drinking enough lacrima to restore one Vitae could create lacrima Addiction. This is exactly like Blood Addiction, but only in respect to lacrima. This Addiction is handled identically to Blood Addiction in all rolls and effects. This Addiction can be difficult to sate, because once the Kindred’s Blood Potency rises above 1, the lacrima stops providing nourishment and it must be appropriately blended with nourishing blood to slake the craving. Only Darling knows how to create such mixtures, though, as far as anyone knows. (At Storyteller’s discretion, it might be possible to find a recipe with some extensive legwork.)
Mortals who ingest lacrima immediately suffer ill effects, though less so if they are Ghouls. Ghouls merely throw up the lacrima. Regular mortals have no such luck. A mortal whose player fails a Stamina roll (with a –3 penalty; Toxin Resistance Merit applies) when the character ingests lacrima suffers one point of lethal damage and receives a –2 penalty to all rolls for the next 24 hours from numbness, weakness, and general lack of mental clarity. A tablespoon is enough to induce these effects. Further doses increase the effect. A tablespoon of lacrima is considered to have a toxicity rating of 1 + the number of tablespoons already ingested (see p. 181 of the World of Darkness Rulebook). A cup of lacrima is enough to kill most people.
Tears of the Clans
Mandragora aren’t common by any means, and most Kindred have no idea that these creatures even exist. Therefore, very few vampires indeed realize that lacrima varies based on the Regnant’s clan.The special properties of mandragora according to their Regnant’s clan are similar in effects to facets unique to that clan. In most cases, a target must ingest some of the lacrima for the effect to take place. Unless otherwise noted, the special effects of the lacrima are in addition to its poisonous and addictive properties.
Daeva lacrima is especially addictive to Kindred. The roll to avoid lacrima Addiction suffers a –2 penalty. To mortals, the poison of this lacrima isn’t damaging, but intoxicating. A mortal ingesting even a tablespoon of Daeva lacrima becomes euphoric and aggressive for the remainder of the night (subject to the same aforementioned Stamina roll; every two dots of Blood Potency the Regnant possess levies a –1 penalty, rounded up). The mortal also produces pheromones that act as a natural aphrodisiac. For the remainder of the night (or unless the mortal covers the scent somehow), all Seduction and other social rolls that would be favorably influenced by sex appeal receive a +2 bonus. In the morning, however, the lacrima burns through the mortal’s system, wracking him with pain and inflicting two points of lethal damage.
Gangrel mandragora are special indeed, becoming faster and more aggressive than other forms of vampiric plants. A mandrake fed with Gangrel Vitae takes on a particularly menacing appearance and gains an attack dice pool equal to its Regnant’s Blood Potency, attacking any sanguine creature other than its master.
Mekhet Kindred produce lacrima that causes nightmarish hallucinations in mortals. The mortal’s player makes the same Stamina roll (every two dots of Blood Potency the Regnant possess levies a –1 penalty, rounded up). If it fails, the victim suffers visual and auditory hallucinations for the remainder of the night. These experiences don’t spring from nowhere. The victim doesn’t seem creatures leap out of thin air, but might see shadows lengthen and reach for her or be unable to bear the sound of fingers drumming on a table. The effects are the same as listed on p. 177 of the World of Darkness Rulebook. Kindred and Ghouls do not suffer this effect from Mekhet lacrima.
Nosferatu vampires create mandrakes that constantly secrete a thin sheen of lacrima. This lacrima is so pale in color that it resembles water or dew, but unlike other forms of lacrima it works on contact. When it touches a mortal’s skin, it creates a stinging sensation in the flesh and auditory hallucinations of loud, high-pitched shrieks — the legendary “screaming roots” of the mandrake. Any time a mortal comes into contact with this poison, his player should roll Stamina. Every two dots of Blood Potency of the Regnant (round up), levies a –1 modifier to this roll, while the Toxin Resistance Merit bestows its normal benefit. If the roll fails, the mortal suffers as described under a Nightmare 2 (Dread) for the remainder of the night. If the roll is a dramatic failure, the mortal suffers as though a vampire had used Dread on him and achieved an exceptional success. Nosferatu lacrima has no special effect on Kindred or Ghouls.
Ventrue produce lacrima that weakens the will of anyone who imbibes it. The victim must roll Stamina as described (every two dots of Blood Potency the Regnant possess levies a –1 penalty, rounded up). If the Stamina roll fails, the mortal becomes highly suggestible. All Resolve and Composure rolls suffer a –3 penalty for the remainder of the night. Ghouls are subject to this effect, but Kindred are not.
Effects of The Vinculum
The bond between a Regnant and her thrall is different, and certainly more useful, than the bond between a mistress and her mandrake. Regardless, a bond still forms, though the benefits of such a connection are limited. First, while the plant attempts to taste the blood of all sanguine creatures (including vampires) that come near it, it never acts out against the Regnant. In fact, some plants even shudder slightly and ease away from the presence of the Regnant, a physical action noticeable only to those standing nearby. The Regnant also gains +2 on any die roll attempting to physically examine or affect the mandrake (for example, Intelligence + Science to determine health of plant, Wits + Medicine to retrieve lacrima from mandrake without harming it).This weaker Vinculum is formed immediately after the first drink, provided the plant becomes mandragora and does not perish.
Darling's Lachrymalis
None are certain exactly when or where the process of concocting lacrima into “blood wine” originated, but many agree that the one who has done it most (and best) is a Daeva who goes only by the name “Darling.”Darling’s identity remains an intriguing mystery for many. The vampire’s location, gender and age all remain complete enigmas and allow for a number of competing theories to duke it out as might a host of urban legends.
What is known is that Darling creates a number of bottles of this lacrima wine, and that these bottles somehow find their way into the hands of powerful Kindred. Where they come from remains unknown, And if any do know, they certainly aren’t telling.
All bottles feature a hand-written label penned in a delicate calligraphy. These labels note the contents as being Darling’s Lachrymalis, and then give details as to the year and specifications of the draught. The label might, for instance, purport that the wine was distilled in 1999, with the sap drawn from a Hardy Celeste Fig Tree, mixed with the blood of a dying bride. Below the delicate script is always a quote attributed to Diogenes: “The wine I like to drink most is that which belongs to another.”