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Of Sacrifice

It wasn’t until nearly a week after the performance of The Vaulderie that I returned to speak with Hodge. Hiding my revelations from my Archibald, Carmine and my childe Melisande was more difficult than I suspected. My ability to engage in superficial conversation or express concern for their weakness had deteriorated, and I found myself wholly unable to relate to them in any fulfilling or meaningful way. Melisande’s incessant cloying made me feel ill, and it wasn’t until they had all departed for the Prince’s banquet that I felt like myself again. It was that evening that I gathered my Research Materials and other essentials and made my way back to the old tenement building.
When I arrived, Hodge greeted me, and Evelyn was standing silently further down the hallway. Hodge was wearing a threadbare black sweater and was puffing on his pipe. Evelyn didn’t even look at me when I came through the door and seemed intent on going upstairs before conversation began. Hodge and I strolled down the hall and into one of curtained rooms. The brightness of the bare bulb as the light switch was turned caused me to cover my face with my hands. When I had removed them, Hodge had dimmed the light to a faint yellow and asked me how I was feeling. I explained to him the alienation I had felt over the last week and how only now did I feel at all settled. I told him how foolish I felt for having thought the likes of Archibald, Carmine and Melisande could have had any role in my greater understanding of the lore of the Forsworn. Hodge smiled and put his hand on my shoulder and escorted me back into the hall.
Hodge then began speaking in a completely different tone. In the tone of one of my university professors from long ago, Hodge began giving me a personal lecture on the nature of the sacral cult. He began first by discussing prehistoric man and then the rites of blood from the days of Sumer and Babylon. He spoke of Carthage and Egypt and Greece. Although I found the academics of the discussion charming and interesting at points, I knew that Hodge was avoiding the point. After carrying on for almost 10 minutes, he stopped in front of a curtain at the end of the seventh story hall and said nothing more. I could see a faint candlelight radiating from beneath the split curtain. As I parted the curtains and ducked through them, I found Gabriel sitting on the bare floor at the center of which sat a lit can of Sterno and rusted carpenter’s Knife.
As I sat on the floor in front of Gabriel, it felt wholly different from when we had first met. Whereas before I had felt as if I were in the presence of a volatile predator, I now sat with the Anxiety of one who treads upon a sheet of ice or glass. It was as if something monstrous gestated behind those still, brown eyes. In a thick Haitian accent and with an even meter, Gabriel drove right to the point that Hodge could not get to. Gabriel spoke of a currency of blood and a price that must be paid to the Powers That Be. He talked of sacrifice. And as he spoke he drew a thick “x” into the dust on the floor.
“Among the covey there is a bond. That bond, called The Crux, is raised to new life each time The Vaulderie is performed. Though The Vaulderie nourishes The Crux, The Vaulderie does not cause The Crux to grow or expand the reach and potency of The Crux’s power. As the birth of each thing created feeds the rampant heart of civilization, so does each life taken feed the Adversary. Just as the Beast within us, The Crux requires sustenance and that sustenance must be one of blood and death. Only this will satisfy that is called The Spirit That Denies.”
While he spoke far fewer words than Hodge, the truth of what Gabriel uttered burned into me like hot teeth, and it was laid plain as to why this small boy was considered closest to the Beast. I then asked Gabriel to tell me of those things that were viewed as adequate offering to the Adversary. Animals, he said, were offered when circumstance prevents more elaborate gifts or in instances where the blood of a particular animal is called for. Black roosters, snakes, cats and goats are often used in the rites of the Pandemonium as much of the faction’s ceremonies are drawn from anachronistic grimoires and the fantasies of Victorian perverts.
However, with the exception of those factions that are as sentimental as the Antinomians, no less than human blood will do. Needless to say, in modern nights, one must be careful not to pull too heavily from the herds. In the case of vampires who have drifted far from their Humanity, the methods of Seduction used by other vampires do not come as easily, as the predator’s stink and menace cling thick to many of Belial’s Brood. Nonetheless, the cults of all three aspects of the Trinity of Being implement human sacrifice. Humans are often sacrificed during Trials of Fury and Hunger, or Vaulderie. Even during large communion rites, human blood may be used to consecrate the ground or object that is being honored. Nonetheless, there are occasions when even human life is an insufficient offering. Though the mass murder of humans is by no means a constant occurrence for small coveys trying to remain hidden in lightly populated areas, in the swelling ghettos and impoverished ruins of the Third World, a covey of the Forsworn may perform sacrifices with weekly and even nightly regularity.
The ritual sacrifice of vampires is perhaps the most well-known practice of the Forsworn as this practice carries with it the greatest horror for Kindred society. Whether to revel in crimes of Diablerie, ritually execute an enemy of the covey or satisfy an unseen patron, the rare but inevitable need for sacrificial Kindred is one of the few aspects of Brood culture that force the Brood to make prolonged contact with vampire society at large. At times, this dependence can put extreme strain on the security of the covey. Nonetheless, if a ritual calls for an offering of Kindred blood, the need will be met.
Though ritual sacrifice is punishable by torture and death in most of the factions, it is not completely unheard of for Forsworn of advanced age and power to exploit the rites of sacrifice. As the horrors of Torpor can be unthinkable for the Forsworn who has grown great in power and investments, even the most Devoted can be driven to endanger the covey out of fear of losing such boons. Such deceptions carried on in secret can carry heavy consequences for the potent elder who has betrayed the well-being of his covey.
I could feel Evelyn and Hodge skulk in behind me. Though any sane of our kind would have trembled at what could have possibly been the end of one’s Requiem, my instincts were affirmed by Evelyn’s presentation of The Vaulderie chalice to Gabriel. As Gabriel recited a complex liturgy of guttural prayers to the Adversary, we each punctured our wrists and spilled our Vitae into the goblet. As the last of the blood was consumed, Gabriel spoke my new name that I shall not repeat here. He then spoke once more of a sacrifice to make holy that day that The Crux took another brother. Like a wave building beneath dark waters, I could feel the stirrings of my Beast as it stretched in the presence of its own kind. Then I spoke, in loyal and Devoted words, the names and addresses of my childer and former brethren.
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