People of the Land

Vampire the Requiem - Covenant - Circle of the Crone
True predators hunt at night. Wise hunters sleep during the day and pursue prey under cover of darkness. Mountain lions, owls, foxes, wolves: all prefer to kill at night, going where the food is, feasting on their prey while the shadows reign. That is how it is. The strong Dominate and destroy the weak, not out of cruelty but because it is how nature allows it — even demands it — to be. Just as darkness is the natural foil to light, predators are the inherent antithesis to prey.
Some Acolytes accept this notion, and carry it further: vampires are the natural complement to humans. The predator-prey relationship represented by the two is not aberrant, but instead part of the organic whole. This relationship is, in fact, essential to the precise ecology that guides all things. Human beings overpopulate. Their numbers must be cut. The Acolytes calling themselves the People of the Land recognize that they, as vampires, cannot be the sole culler of the human Herd. They accept that they are only a small part of a calculation combining disease, disaster and human brutality. These Damned are content with their small part in The Mother’s design.
The People of the Land hunt the land. It is what they do to be part of the proper way of things. That is how they honor The Mother.

Wide Open Spaces

The People of the Land are nomadic Acolytes who stick predominantly to rural towns and the surrounding wilderness. Their presence is strongest in the American West, in the broad tracts of semi-open land that constitute states such as Arizona, Colorado, New Mexico and Wyoming. These Acolytes not limited to this region, however, and disparate groups have been found all over, including Texas and Pennsylvania. Some whisper that the People of the Land have left the rough country of America and can be found outside it, though no evidence of that has yet been discovered.
These vampires gather in packs of five to 10 Kindred. The packs are connected by a unified belief system, but little more. Sometimes they cross paths or meet purposely, but largely, the packs’ predatory orbits do not overlap. The People of the Land feed on whatever will sustain them. Humans are certainly the preferred prey, but these Acolytes make do with animals whenever necessary. If the need arises to hunt their own kind, then that is what they do. If they are capable of it, then certainly The Mother accepts it.

Structure

The People keep to simple ideas. Complexity is unnecessary; why muddy clear waters? Still, these Acolytes tend to maintain certain elements of organization across the board.
Packs
A pack of vampires belonging to the People do not adhere to any strict organization. They do not have ranks or echelons pertinent to leadership. Some packs do mimic the behavior of wolves and accept alpha and omega positions within the pack. The alpha vampire is the proven leader. Her strength is clear, and, with it, she directs the pack. An omega vampire is generally the weakest, though it’s as likely that such a vampire is merely the last to have joined the People. The omega performs meager tasks (cleaning up bodies, providing distractions when hunting, putting gas in the van).
When a pack utilizes this alpha/omega structure, the positions are generally fluid. As is true in nature, the top dog does must continue to demonstrate his strength. At any time, a stronger leader may supplant him in the hierarchy and become the one to guide the pack movements.
Havens
The People keep their havens relatively temporary. They might use out-of-the-way caves, access tunnels or mines as common havens. If the People find a particularly valuable Haven (offering full protection from the sun and from human meddling), they may return to that spot year after year. These havens are more “safe places” than they are true havens.
Ostensibly, the only true Haven is if the group has a motor vehicle that they’ve kept for a long time. Such vehicles tend to be incredibly well protected. Windows are blacked out, the sides might be armored with strips of corrugated metal or pieces of stolen guard rails, and the People have all manner of backup supplies (spare tires, cans of gas, weapons, blood) to keep them safe if on the run.
Ghouls
The People of the Land don’t have widespread ideas one way or the other about Ghouls. Some packs are happy to take mortal Ghouls. After all, humans assume animals as pets, why can’t vampires claim humans in the same way? Most People who do take Ghouls treat the Ghouls with respect and keep them well fed. The People also treat their Ghouls as animals — treasured animals, but animals nevertheless. Ghouls are only useful if they are well-trained and able companions.
Of course, many packs assume actual animals as Ghouls, though some People suggest that twisting an animal in that way could be a perversion of the food chain, but most simply accept the theory that, “If I can do it, The Mother must will it.”
Leaving the People
Choosing to leave a pack is a risky endeavor for a vampire. Some packs view leaving as an insult, as if it challenges and dismisses The Mother and her ways. If that’s the case, the pack will likely do one of two things with the leaving (or escaping) vampire. The pack members will destroy him outright — as mercifully as they can manage, which may not be all that merciful — or they will find a way to keep him regardless of his wishes. They may shackle him with bonds of metal or bonds of blood; either way, he’s staying. And he will be punished, as well. A favorite mode of punishment is chaining up the offending Kindred and dragging him behind the van for a few miles, letting the road have its fill of the creature’s disintegrating body.
Of course, as it is with the People, they have very few rules that carry from pack to pack. Many packs simply let an exiting vampire leave. If he has earned his pack members’ respect in some way, he may go without trouble.

History

Truthfully, the history of the People of the Land doesn’t matter. They have little grasp of their own history, and rarely does one Acolyte care enough to uncover anything deeper than what barebones information is already known.
This is what the group believes and tells its childer: the People of the Land have been around for a very long time. This time is not marked in specific years. The People simply accept that their presence has been here for centuries or longer. Few or none of them are old enough to remember back that far, but that only sustains this “truth,” because nobody is around to deny and disprove it. If asked about their history, one of these Acolytes may respond by asking a magpie or a black bear its history. The point of such absurdity is to suggest that such creatures are timeless. Much as a mockingbird has a limitless history (that the bird cares nothing about), so, too, the People of the Land have a similar disinterest and blithe acceptance in their past. Pressing the question will only ensure violence.

Tenets of Faith

Philosophy

The People of the Land do not often wax philosophical. Such conversations are reserved for rare occasions such as holidays or during particular rituals. According to most of the People, honoring the tenets of the People should be done through action, not discussion. Certainly these Kindred are willing to explicate their philosophies and ideas to a neonate amongst them, but all told, such dialogues are kept to a bare minimum. The philosophies are best exemplified through exploits and illustrations, not explanations.
As unspoken as their ideas are, one might suspect that these ideas are simple, few in number and generally given short shrift. That is not the case. The ideas that inform the People’s ways are straightforward, but certainly not simple.
Honor Thy Mother
The People are pantheistic. They believe in one divine being, and they accept that she is within all things and living creatures. Her reality is pervasive. She is the swaying trees in autumn, the exhaust coughed from an automobile, the kingfisher spearing trout, the human child bouncing a ball. This female deity is sometimes referred to as The Crone, but that seems more a habit learned from other Acolytes than an idea that has grown naturally out of the faction’s original beliefs. Mostly, however, the People simply refer to this figure as The Mother. (It’s worth noting that some Acolytes claim that elders in the covenant are actually Crones, venerable old Damned worthy of worship. The People do not lend merit to such ideas. No vampire can ever equal The Mother Crone, and any creature who claims such power is due for a lesson in truth, however bloody that lesson may be.)
She birthed the world in a gush of pain. Everything came forth from her spilling womb, stinking of hot blood. This, the People say, is why blood is so important. Blood is what links a large part of the world’s living creatures. Blood is the cosmic tie to the old Mother. The People tie this quite easily to the natural order, or as they sometimes call it, “the Way of Things.” Cattle eat grass, and humans gain some benefits of the vegetation by eating the cattle. Vampires are merely one step above that, but not outside of the equation. Humans, by eating cattle (or other creatures), also gain the benefits of blood and meat. By consuming humans, the Damned feed on the blood that has been a part of Humanity, part of the animal kingdom (cattle) and part of vegetation (grass).
In this way, the People link themselves inextricably to the natural order. They are not outside of it because they are the natural pinnacle of the food chain. The food chain — a biological hierarchy ordained and maintained by The Mother herself — is therefore utterly sacred. To believe that the Kindred are somehow unnatural and distant from the organic order is anathema to the People. In fact, such an idea is heretical; should one of the faction utter such profanity, he will be rebuked violently.
Hunting, Gathering
Consumption — and by proxy, the act of hunting food for consumption — is about as pure an action as is possible, at least by the People’s standards. This is one of the ways that they silently express their faith in The Mother, by acting in accordance with the food chain.
The People of the Land find and consume Vitae in two ways. The first way, which is not so much holy as it is utilitarian, is often called “grazing.” If they move through a town (or, on rare occasions, a small city), the pack will take small amounts of blood from various sources until full. They equate this to milking a cow: it provides some food for little effort and does not destroy the creature. The People “graze” most oftenwhen traveling from region to region, town to town. They can reclaim lost blood before moving on once again.
Hunting, on the other hand, is sacred and nearly ritualistic. Every pack undertakes the act of hunting differently, but it is always accompanied by some modicum of ceremony or veneration. Some packs let the unfettered fierceness of the wilderness fill their dead hearts, and they hunt violently and madly, slaking their thirst while cutting a swath of chaos. Other People take lessons from creatures such as mountain lions, wolves, even falcons.
These Acolytes hunt with stealth, preferring clean, quick kills under the cover of shadows. Some prefer to keep stocks of food, doing so by kidnapping several victims and keeping them alive for days or weeks as portable blood supplies. The People can stock several victims in a van or an RV (if the vampires are mechanically mobile; a few rare packs prefer to travel on foot) and be confident that they have food during those long nights in the middle of nowhere.
Curiously, hunting is not done without mercy — or, at least, what the People perceive to be mercy. They offer small mumbled prayers to The Mother upon completing a kill and feeding. Many packs actually involve themselves briefly in the lives of those they destroy. They may track down the families of the deceased and “honor” them in some way — perhaps by sending money, small tokens or even parts of the prey’s body (a ring finger with a wedding ring still attached, for instance).
Most importantly, the People consider torture an aberration. Torture is not part of The Mother’s plan. Animals do not torture animals. Yes, hunting and feeding may be torturous for the prey, but that is inadvertent and unintentional. Visiting needless suffering upon the food shows a grotesque misunderstanding of the natural order.
Of course, that’s not to say that some packs don’t devolve to that level. Vampires may find that the Beast within is not so sated with mere food, and may be consumed by perversion and sadism. When one pack catches wind of this kind of behavior from another, that pack is obligated to hunt the offenders and cull them from the food chain. Permanently.
Walking Across Worlds
The People accept that they are wholly unique. Yes, all animals are in their own way distinctive, but a fox is not much different from a badger when it comes down to biology and behavior. These Acolytes claim that they are representatives of many worlds. They walk among humans because they were once humans. The Beast within, however, also makes them part animal, part monster.
This powerful pairing puts the People at the top of the food chain, and allows them the enviable position of knowing the “truth” about The Mother and her world. That, above all, makes them a little bit divine. Such divinity is expressed through the vampire’s natural abilities, such as Disciplines. (At least, the People see these things as natural. If the Kindred are natural, then why shouldn’t their given abilities be equally normal?)
In this way, these Acolytes do not see the Requiem as the curse or burden many others believe it to be. The People don’t see the Requiem as days of blood and roses, either — it is an existence fraught with peril and toil, but so are all existences. Theirs is merely endless.
Beasts and Men
The People venerate animals. The beasts of the wild are not above the Kindred in the food chain or even the cosmic one, but animals are worthy of heightened respect. Animals are pure. They are close to The Mother, a part of her as much as a leaf is part of its parent tree. Humans have distanced themselves from the natural order (which, perhaps in their own way, is their natural order), but animals have done no such thing.
Upon joining the People, whether by hook or by crook, a vampire receives an animal designation that the pack believes best suits her. Some packs use simple beast names, telling the new vampire her animal is “Fox” or “Osprey.” In these cases, the animal is meant only as a representation, not as any kind of title. Many packs, however, actively change the name of the vampire to something related to the animal: “Vulture Picking Bones” or “Henhouse Fox.”
These titles supplant the vampire’s original name, which becomes anathema to speak from that point forward. How an animal is associated to the Acolyte is likely a reference to the way she hunts, moves and thinks. The animal name reflects what the Beast within is like, as the People believe the Beast to be unique inside every vampire. “Henhouse Fox” may sneak in under cover of stillness and silence to steal infants from a hospital nursery, much as a fox pilfers chickens. “Vulture Picking Bones,” on the other hand, is less direct, preferring instead to claim the sick and dying from the scenes of accidents, convalescent homes or areas of disease.
Many vampires receive tattoos of their “animal soul,” making such changes permanent with the expenditure of blood and will. Others wear Zuni fetishes or other jewelry made to represent their animal names.
It isn’t unusual to find animals living among these Acolytes. Many take animal companions, and train the beasts to hunt with them. Rarely do they take exotic animals — dogs and snakes are particularly popular, though some Acolytes do prefer stranger creatures (owls, spiders, lynxes).
The gifts of Animalism are, in this way, very important to the People. If a vampire doesn’t know this gift coming into the People, she will be taught it one way or another. Animalism allows these Kindred to perform many expressions of power, all of which bring them closer to The Mother. Whether that means riding an animal’s soul for a time, communing with a creature or stirring the Beast inside another vampire, Animalism gives the Acolyte power and harmony with the natural order. This gift allows her to be a more effective predator.
Despite the People’s endless respect for the animal world, the People will not hesitate to feed from them if given the opportunity. If a vampire is capable of gaining sustenance from a beast, then it is meant for her to drink from that creature. That is The Mother’s way.
Follow the Blood
The People are nomads. A pack, during the course of a year, may travel as far as a thousand miles in any given direction, though most packs keep to an area half that size in square miles. A rare pack will travel on foot, walking upon civilization’s periphery — sticking to the edges of distant ranches, tracts of empty forests or strips of decommissioned highway (such as the many parts of old Route 66). Most packs travel together in a single vehicle or a caravan. RVs, vans and trucks make for good transportation. Some Acolytes grow quite attached to their conveyances, whereas others ditch them and steal new ones every few weeks.
These Acolytes move according to certain patterns. Often, a pack will establish a “hunting trail” that the Acolytes can travel during the course of a year or three. They move to where the feeding is best. If a small logging village or an oil rig only opens up for part of the year, the pack may hunt there during that time and then move on.
Tourist seasons in spring and summer make for good hunting, as well; vacationers disappear easily, and thus many packs will accommodate tourist areas into their predatory patterns. Some Acolytes eschew such patterning, preferring to live more “wild.” They simply roam aimlessly, looking for The Mother’s signs to guide them. Her signs, of course, are open to interpretation — a road-crushed armadillo, a Herd of mule deer or a strange cloud pattern might all be construed as good omens put there by The Mother. (The Acolytes might also see bad omens, i.e., “Don’t go that way,” in the world: a trail of smoke in the distance, a coyote’s howl or an odd smell in the air.) Packs are given easily to superstition and homespun folklore.

Worship

Ways of the Circle

Evidence supports that the People of the Land are truly Acolytes — likely Acolytes who, long ago, broke away from a more “traditional” locus of belief. Two of the Circle’s key tenets — Creation Is Power, and Tribulation Brings Enlightenment — come up often in the philosophies and actions of the People.
These Acolytes take a straightforward approach to the ideas of creation. Vampires cannot propagate as others do, but the Kindred can propagate (and woe to any who claim that such reproduction is somehow false or abnormal). The Embrace is the primary, and some would say only, way to continue the blood. Hence, the Embrace is not shunned, and is in fact encouraged. Existing in a pack can be perilous; eternity is rarely eternal. Packs like to replenish their numbers, and the Embrace is what helps them do that. Creation, therefore, truly is power.
Frankly, the People of the Land assume a straightforward understanding of tribulation, as well. They don’t shy from trouble. Their Requiems, by nature, are already hard — they exist on the fringes of civilization, which not only limits their food sources but also forces them to stand out more plainly against an empty backdrop. That’s not to say they go out of their way to step into danger, only that they will not divert their course simply because it seems fraught with some peril.
The best (and most frightening) example of the People’s commitment to self-suffering is what they put recently joined vampires through before they can be truly considered “People of the Land.” Any Damned seeking to become part of these Acolytes must endure a brutal rite of passage. This rite has no name, and is not the same from pack to pack.
Many packs leave a new vampire alone in the wilderness, allowing him to fend for himself while cut off from all the things a Kindred requires: easy food, shelter from the sun, protection from unknown threats. If the vampire can make do, he’s in. If not, he can either endure further trials or simply be cut free from the chance of joining (though some meet Final Death outright).
Other trials include vicious gauntlets, in which a vampire must run through a channel of Acolytes who hit him, gouge him or stab him as he presses forward. If he can bring himself to the end of the line and emerge from the other side, then he belongs. To boot, he’s learned something. The lesson isn’t simply that tribulation brings enlightenment.
The key is to know just what that enlightenment means among the People. To them, enlightenment is the realization that one can survive nearly anything. The acceptance of nigh-eternal endurance can give a creature of the night an alarming sense of possibility and power.

Rituals and Observances

The People of the Land maintain little interest in holidays. Those packs that celebrate do so with events unique to them. They might observe the “birthdays” (usually the day of one’s Embrace) of the pack members, or might honor the first day of a season with prayers to The Mother. That said, the People do share a number of rituals across the board; though, again, how they enact such rituals is often left up to the individual packs.
Temples of Mothers Mercy
During the course of a hunt, an Acolyte might kill another being. This may mean murdering a person or an animal, or destroying another Kindred. To show reverence for the life or spirit that has been taken, the Acolyte will take a part of the prey with him. Different vampires take different things. Some take items of interest and value such as rings, necklaces or cell phones. Others take small personal belongings: driver’s licenses, keys, mementos. Many take physical parts of the body, such as fingers, teeth or ears (this is particularly true when killing animals).
Upon taking these objects, a vampire will adorn herself with them. It is not unusual to see one of these Acolytes festooned with countless small “souvenirs:” a necklace made of foot bones, two rings on every finger, a few rodent skulls hanging by a leather cord upon a stolen belt. If the pack did the killing as a whole, the People might decorate the inside of their mode of transportation with such items. Some have been known to keep whole skeletons strung up upon the ceilings of their recreational vehicles.
Whispers to The Mother
All things are alive, and all living things are part of The Mother. The People of the Land believe that all souls — whether the soul of a human, vampire or oak tree — are one swatch of fabric sewn into The Mother’s grand quilt. The People honor this fact by talking to everything. Many find it strange to see one of these Acolytes whispering to a rose, laughing with a bird or even giving some kind of mumbled blessing to a pick-up truck. They don’t tend to hold actual conversations (though some mad or “wise” People believe they can hear responses and hence have continued dialogue with unmoving objects), but simply offer a small blessing, prayer or comment to nearby objects. They believe that the soul of the thing can hear them, and that mean The Mother can hear them.
Type
Religious, Sect
Ruling Organization
Parent Organization

History Matters - Sort Of
This faction’s history isn’t interesting. They have been predators for more than 200 years. They stick to the relative wilderness. That’s it.
What is interesting, however, are the histories of those individuals comprising packs of these Acolytes. These Damned have led troubled Requiems, and have made many an enemy along the way. Some Acolytes are Embraced directly into the People, whereas others join willingly or are dragged headlong into servitude. Point being, this is a covenant of characters. It is the history of these characters that matters — who do they know, where have they cut a swath of blood and pain, what events have driven them to this? These questions are what make the group interesting, not a textbook reiteration of dates and places.
Some packs within this faction have developed a variation on the Protean •• power, Haven of Soil (p. 138, Vampire: The Requiem). The variation allows the vampire to merge her body only with wood — trees in particular. The additional three experience points (12 total) are not required to do this, but this power must be chosen over the normal Haven of Soil. All other effects and costs are the same, but by taking this, the vampire may not merge with the earth, only with wood. In this way, he communes more purely with The Mother. Vampires who do this within the sect are sometimes called “Dryads.”
The Mother's Mark
Sometimes, a pack will let a vampire leave, but only with a permanent mark to remind him of the People forever.
The method of doing this is actually an alteration of Touch of the Morrigan, a level-three Crúac ritual (p. 144 of Vampire: The Requiem). This ritual works almost exactly as described, except for two notable differences. First, if touching an opponent is successful, the ritualist can make the resultant mark appear as a simple image or symbol (a handprint, a star, a crude eye). The image comes across as a bruise or a field of blood blisters. The second difference is, with the expenditure of a Willpower dot, the image can be made utterly permanent. Because of this high cost, it is rare that any vampire wishes to so eternally mark another, but who said such decisions need to be rational?
Mother’s Mark can only affect vampires. It cannot affect Ghouls or werewolves. Per Touch of the Morrigan, the modified ritual does damage to the subject. The damage may heal. The mark is all that can be made permanent, not the damage. If bought as a new ritual, Mother’s Mark is a levelthree ritual, much like Touch of the Morrigan.