Sipan
Many of the vampire domains of South America play host to a dark and ancient sect of Kindred witches known as the Sipán. Fearful worshippers of an ancient, immense monster and merciless enemies of the adherents of modern Western religion, the Sipán wage endless war on the vampires of The Lancea Sanctum and many of their Allies.
It is believed that the Sipán originated somewhere in the Lambayeque region of coastal Peru over 1600 years ago. In those nights, they were the sole Kindred of their domain, and they ruled as god-priests among the Moche culture of mortals, presiding over great sacrifices and preaching the fearful worship of an immense and terrifying sea creature known only as “the Decapitator.” By their accounts, the Decapitator was not just a myth — it physically manifested at the shores of Lambayeque, claiming hundreds of victims at a time and subsiding beneath the waves when satisfied. The Sipán occasionally fed upon the blood of this creature, and they attributed their magicks to its potency.
The culture of the mortals in service to the Sipán was a bloody one, its members participating in frequent raids on neighboring peoples so as to feed the demands of the Decapitator. Hundreds of mortals would be sacrificed in single gruesome ceremonies under the cold gaze of the Sipán Hierophants. For centuries, these seasonal ceremonies continued, and the influence of the Sipán grew. Their mortal charges warred and won territory, allowing the vampire priests to spread out and establish their worship all along the Peruvian coast. The favor of the Decapitator leant the bloody power of Crúac to the Sipán, and their enemies fell before them like maize before the farmer’s blade.
But the favor did not last. The demands of the Sipán rites pressured their mortal followers to maintain an aggressive stance, invoking the widespread animosity of the neighboring peoples. Kindred of those domains began to provide their own human charges with aid, making further raids more and more difficult. Eventually, necessity dictated that the sacrifices grow smaller and less grandiose. The Hierophants of the Sipán predicted disaster, desperately preaching to incite their people to greater acts of military devotion, but there was only so far they could go without risking total destruction at the hands of their enemies. The humans responded with renewed fervor, sending desperate raiding parties forth to claim more victims. Unfortunately for the mortals, almost every one of these parties fell to the growing resistance, primarily led by Maya warriors. The territories of the Sipán were cut through the middle by retaliatory strikes, scattering their people and ending their reign.
In the frantic times that followed, the Sipán priests tried to continue to appease the Decapitator with the blood of victims and were forced to turn upon the mortals of the Sipán faith. The priests lost thousands of followers, even with a reduced sacrificial rate, and almost all of those who remained eventually turned on their masters, driving their worship underground. For the first time, the Sipán attempted to make peaceful contact with nearby Kindred, hoping to explain their predicament and warn of impending disaster, for the Sipán were convinced that the Decapitator would be enraged by the diminished gifts of blood and they needed to find a way to convince others to aid them in appeasing the great creature. None would listen, of course, and most reacted to the Sipán’s approach with Suspicion or outright violence.
In the 16th century, the Sipán lost all that remained of their hope. The armadas of Spain invaded Peruvian territories, and wave after wave of gold-hungry conquistadors broke upon the peoples of the Sipán domains, crushing them utterly and destroying the last vestiges of their mortal support structure. After a time, Kindred began to arrive with the ships of Spain, bringing with them the word of The Lancea Sanctum and their Western ways. While the terror of the South American missionary Crusade raged throughout the mortal population, the vampires experienced their own flood of Catholic Proselytizers and prejudices. The Decapitator never rose to defend its people. Its worshippers were all but exterminated. Only a few Kindred priests remained, forced into pathetic retreat, often surviving humbly among the scattered tribes of the Peruvian jungle, beyond the reach of Spanish civilization.
What remained of the cult withdrew into secrecy. Those Sipán who were “discovered” by Western or Westernized Kindred denied association with the cult of the Decapitator. The Sipán allowed themselves to be integrated into the new culture of South American Elysium gatherings, quietly accepting the lessons andrecommendations of the newcomers. The only teachings the Sipán refused to accept, even under duress, were any related to Judeo-Christian religion.
Quietly, they planned and plotted. Maintaining survival as their first priority, they spoke in hidden gatherings of the fall of the “interlopers” and the eventual return of the Decapitator. They swore oaths to reinstate the grand sacrifices of old and to drive the Christian conquerors from their lands. The Sipán hid themselves within the burgeoning modern society of Kindred, hate burning behind masks of calm as they kept their existence secret from all but their fellow Acolytes. A campaign of silent war was initiated upon The Lancea Sanctum, many of whom fell to the assassin’s blade in subsequent decades. Attempts by the outsiders to unearth the cult of the Sipán were occasionally successful, wiping out a small Circle here or an individual follower there, but still the faithful Acolytes endured.
Now, strangely, this fierce tradition is enjoying an unexpected resurgence. With the cause unknown and little understood by outsiders, the Sipán are becoming a popular faction in certain South American domains, and some cults have begun to openly declare their affiliation with the followers of the Decapitator, regardless of the infuriated response of The Lancea Sanctum. The Sipán claim that omens of the Decapitator’s impending return are frequent and obvious, and that the Kindred of the lands within the Decapitator’s purview are well-advised to heed the words of the Acolytes. Altars must be prepared, they say, and great sacrifices planned. To meet the eventual appearance of the great god unprepared is to risk its uncontrollable wrath and the destruction of the territories all along the Peruvian shore. Questions about the centuries-long absence of the creature are shaken off or ignored outright. The fervent faith of the Sipán defies logic and denies doubt.
Some modern Kindred believe that the Decapitator is a powerful manifestation of The Crone’s will, made real by the Vitae of her early South American followers. These Kindred see parallels in the god’s cataclysmic appearances and various Circle myths about the fury of certain spurned goddesses. Others argue (as their faith dictates) that The Crone, progenitor of all Kindred, must have a Beast of her own —and the Decapitator could well be its concrete manifestation on Earth.
The traditional Sipán are not concerned with attempting to make their beliefs more palatable to modern Kindred. The existence of the Decapitator is unquestionably true, and the eventuality of its return is assured. To them, the need to appease this god is real, and they must be allowed to do so before it causes a disaster unlike any the living world has seen in thousands of years. Any interference endangers all vampire and mortal life on the coast, and must be regarded as an act of war.
It is believed that the Sipán originated somewhere in the Lambayeque region of coastal Peru over 1600 years ago. In those nights, they were the sole Kindred of their domain, and they ruled as god-priests among the Moche culture of mortals, presiding over great sacrifices and preaching the fearful worship of an immense and terrifying sea creature known only as “the Decapitator.” By their accounts, the Decapitator was not just a myth — it physically manifested at the shores of Lambayeque, claiming hundreds of victims at a time and subsiding beneath the waves when satisfied. The Sipán occasionally fed upon the blood of this creature, and they attributed their magicks to its potency.
The culture of the mortals in service to the Sipán was a bloody one, its members participating in frequent raids on neighboring peoples so as to feed the demands of the Decapitator. Hundreds of mortals would be sacrificed in single gruesome ceremonies under the cold gaze of the Sipán Hierophants. For centuries, these seasonal ceremonies continued, and the influence of the Sipán grew. Their mortal charges warred and won territory, allowing the vampire priests to spread out and establish their worship all along the Peruvian coast. The favor of the Decapitator leant the bloody power of Crúac to the Sipán, and their enemies fell before them like maize before the farmer’s blade.
But the favor did not last. The demands of the Sipán rites pressured their mortal followers to maintain an aggressive stance, invoking the widespread animosity of the neighboring peoples. Kindred of those domains began to provide their own human charges with aid, making further raids more and more difficult. Eventually, necessity dictated that the sacrifices grow smaller and less grandiose. The Hierophants of the Sipán predicted disaster, desperately preaching to incite their people to greater acts of military devotion, but there was only so far they could go without risking total destruction at the hands of their enemies. The humans responded with renewed fervor, sending desperate raiding parties forth to claim more victims. Unfortunately for the mortals, almost every one of these parties fell to the growing resistance, primarily led by Maya warriors. The territories of the Sipán were cut through the middle by retaliatory strikes, scattering their people and ending their reign.
In the frantic times that followed, the Sipán priests tried to continue to appease the Decapitator with the blood of victims and were forced to turn upon the mortals of the Sipán faith. The priests lost thousands of followers, even with a reduced sacrificial rate, and almost all of those who remained eventually turned on their masters, driving their worship underground. For the first time, the Sipán attempted to make peaceful contact with nearby Kindred, hoping to explain their predicament and warn of impending disaster, for the Sipán were convinced that the Decapitator would be enraged by the diminished gifts of blood and they needed to find a way to convince others to aid them in appeasing the great creature. None would listen, of course, and most reacted to the Sipán’s approach with Suspicion or outright violence.
In the 16th century, the Sipán lost all that remained of their hope. The armadas of Spain invaded Peruvian territories, and wave after wave of gold-hungry conquistadors broke upon the peoples of the Sipán domains, crushing them utterly and destroying the last vestiges of their mortal support structure. After a time, Kindred began to arrive with the ships of Spain, bringing with them the word of The Lancea Sanctum and their Western ways. While the terror of the South American missionary Crusade raged throughout the mortal population, the vampires experienced their own flood of Catholic Proselytizers and prejudices. The Decapitator never rose to defend its people. Its worshippers were all but exterminated. Only a few Kindred priests remained, forced into pathetic retreat, often surviving humbly among the scattered tribes of the Peruvian jungle, beyond the reach of Spanish civilization.
What remained of the cult withdrew into secrecy. Those Sipán who were “discovered” by Western or Westernized Kindred denied association with the cult of the Decapitator. The Sipán allowed themselves to be integrated into the new culture of South American Elysium gatherings, quietly accepting the lessons andrecommendations of the newcomers. The only teachings the Sipán refused to accept, even under duress, were any related to Judeo-Christian religion.
Quietly, they planned and plotted. Maintaining survival as their first priority, they spoke in hidden gatherings of the fall of the “interlopers” and the eventual return of the Decapitator. They swore oaths to reinstate the grand sacrifices of old and to drive the Christian conquerors from their lands. The Sipán hid themselves within the burgeoning modern society of Kindred, hate burning behind masks of calm as they kept their existence secret from all but their fellow Acolytes. A campaign of silent war was initiated upon The Lancea Sanctum, many of whom fell to the assassin’s blade in subsequent decades. Attempts by the outsiders to unearth the cult of the Sipán were occasionally successful, wiping out a small Circle here or an individual follower there, but still the faithful Acolytes endured.
Now, strangely, this fierce tradition is enjoying an unexpected resurgence. With the cause unknown and little understood by outsiders, the Sipán are becoming a popular faction in certain South American domains, and some cults have begun to openly declare their affiliation with the followers of the Decapitator, regardless of the infuriated response of The Lancea Sanctum. The Sipán claim that omens of the Decapitator’s impending return are frequent and obvious, and that the Kindred of the lands within the Decapitator’s purview are well-advised to heed the words of the Acolytes. Altars must be prepared, they say, and great sacrifices planned. To meet the eventual appearance of the great god unprepared is to risk its uncontrollable wrath and the destruction of the territories all along the Peruvian shore. Questions about the centuries-long absence of the creature are shaken off or ignored outright. The fervent faith of the Sipán defies logic and denies doubt.
Some modern Kindred believe that the Decapitator is a powerful manifestation of The Crone’s will, made real by the Vitae of her early South American followers. These Kindred see parallels in the god’s cataclysmic appearances and various Circle myths about the fury of certain spurned goddesses. Others argue (as their faith dictates) that The Crone, progenitor of all Kindred, must have a Beast of her own —and the Decapitator could well be its concrete manifestation on Earth.
The traditional Sipán are not concerned with attempting to make their beliefs more palatable to modern Kindred. The existence of the Decapitator is unquestionably true, and the eventuality of its return is assured. To them, the need to appease this god is real, and they must be allowed to do so before it causes a disaster unlike any the living world has seen in thousands of years. Any interference endangers all vampire and mortal life on the coast, and must be regarded as an act of war.
Structure
Covenant: The Sipán are exclusively members of The Circle of the Crone. Their practice predates the arrival of the “modern” covenants in South America by centuries (if not millennia). To pledge allegiance to an outsider covenant is to betray the faction, and is always punishable by Final Death. In fact, even referring to them as Acolytes of the Circle is unwelcome. The Sipán, in their opinion, have always been Sipán. To name them otherwise is to do them a disservice. Nevertheless, their practice (and the clear demonstration of a Crúac analog) fits them squarely in with the covenant.
Despite their strict rules on membership, the Sipán do actually have some outsider Allies. The Carthian Movement is known to support the Sipán’s right to worship as they choose, and has sided with them in a number of important conflicts in South American domains through the last century. However, the tendency among Sipán Hardliners to equate modern technology with the tools of “the interlopers” is threatening to drive a violent rift between the members of both covenants.
Even in domains that do not favor The Lancea Sanctum, both The Invictus and The Ordo Dracul tend to regard the Sipán as dangerous lunatics and would rather see them disappear.
Organization: The Sipán organize their Circles in a regimented, strictly hierarchical system. The Hierophant rules as the undisputed leader of the group, served and honored by all Acolytes. His wisdom is passed directly to an inner circle of elder priests, who retain power over the subordinate Chorus, which is also stratified into three circles: Students, Supplicants and Initiates. As a vampire passes upward through the circles, he is exposed to more and more of the secrets of the cult, learning the true history of the sorcerers’ Circle, the prophecies of the Decapitator and the hidden powers of Crúac. An Acolyte must endure a difficult, painful tribulation in transition between each rank, and can only ascend with the elaborate blessings of the Hierophant. When the Hierophant suffers Final Death, one of the elder priests secures the position by gathering his ashes and mixing them into a brew of a decapitated mortal’s blood, which she drinks at the climax of her own rite of ascendancy.
Sipán Acolytes learn that their power flows directly from the unknowable anger of the Decapitator, which rages like a flooded river. The Kindred sorcerers fuel their works by trawling at the edges of this fathomless rage, as evidenced by the tendency of their Beasts to rise unbidden in the heat of ritual. To counter this, the schooling of the Sipán focuses on strengthening the will of the Acolytes, so that they may better resist the powerful current of the great monster’s wake. Tests of fire, starvation and pain are common techniques, as are ritualized duels involving a complicated escalation of taunts and insults meant to draw the opponent to frenzy. Those who know the Sipán often comment on their stony countenance, even in the face of horrors unimaginable to most outsiders.
There are few holidays celebrated by the Sipán. Seeing themselves as the burdened defenders of their domains rather than religious celebrants, the Sipán meet for regular rituals and attempt to organize scheduled sacrifices in order to appease their god, but there is little in the way of secular rhyme or reason to their timing. Most rituals are held at the behest of an Elder Priest or Hierophant after reporting a daytime dream. Some Circles hold particularly vicious rituals on the anniversary of the conquistadors’ invasion of the Sipán territories, but these furious workings are by no means ubiquitous.
Most of the structured worship of the Sipán is involved in rigidly organized recitations of the litany and the ardent prayers of the Circle. While the individual Acolytes can and do create works of art (often inspired by their horrifying dreams of the Decapitator), the collective sacred spaces of each Circle tends to be fairly sparse. Stone carvings and the flat paintings of the raging monster are usually restricted to the personal havens of the Acolytes who create them.
The greatest worship of the cult is organized around mass sacrifices, which are conducted at the behest of a Hierophant’s visions. When the call is made, the Acolytes spread out in their domain, hunting down and retrieving as many living mortals as they can find. Some cults are wise enough to keep the numbers relatively low so as not to strain the Masquerade, but other cults become too wrapped up in their fear and sense of duty to worry about the earthly ramifications of discovery. The victims are all dragged to the sacred space of the Circle, where they are sacrificed, one after the other, in a bloody show of faith. The Hierophant cuts off the head and tears the heart from each body, presenting them as gifts to the Decapitator; the blood that spills from each victim stains the earth and stones around the Altar. At the end of the ritual, the bodies of the sacrifices are carried away and flung into the sea, where they sink (or are dragged?) below the surface, disappearing forever.
The ritual fear of the Sipán and their organized raids on the living populace of their domains are not the only binding qualities of the cult. The strongest and most overt tie that brings together the Acolytes is their hatred of modern Western culture and religion, and the utopian notion of the “return to nature.” Every Acolyte is taught that Judeo-Christian ethos, modern technology and free-market capitalism are the symptoms of a great sickness that warps and twists all of the people subjected to them.
The notion of a primal, communal life in the jungle is fetishized, serving as an ideological barrier between the Sipán and the outsider Kindred and providing the cult with a goal of sorts. The return to the jungle is mentioned often in the preaching of the Hierophants, but is held out as a state that can only be realized when the modern ways are purged from the land and the Decapitator is appeased by a sacrifice of sufficient size.
It matters little that no Sipán Acolyte has ever lived in this ideal state of harmony — it is enough for them to believe in it. Some elder Hierophants claim to remember the nights of peace and natural accord that preceded the coming of the conquistadors, but the elders’ memories are muddled by the passage of centuries and the crude dreams of Torpor.
Despite their strict rules on membership, the Sipán do actually have some outsider Allies. The Carthian Movement is known to support the Sipán’s right to worship as they choose, and has sided with them in a number of important conflicts in South American domains through the last century. However, the tendency among Sipán Hardliners to equate modern technology with the tools of “the interlopers” is threatening to drive a violent rift between the members of both covenants.
Even in domains that do not favor The Lancea Sanctum, both The Invictus and The Ordo Dracul tend to regard the Sipán as dangerous lunatics and would rather see them disappear.
Organization: The Sipán organize their Circles in a regimented, strictly hierarchical system. The Hierophant rules as the undisputed leader of the group, served and honored by all Acolytes. His wisdom is passed directly to an inner circle of elder priests, who retain power over the subordinate Chorus, which is also stratified into three circles: Students, Supplicants and Initiates. As a vampire passes upward through the circles, he is exposed to more and more of the secrets of the cult, learning the true history of the sorcerers’ Circle, the prophecies of the Decapitator and the hidden powers of Crúac. An Acolyte must endure a difficult, painful tribulation in transition between each rank, and can only ascend with the elaborate blessings of the Hierophant. When the Hierophant suffers Final Death, one of the elder priests secures the position by gathering his ashes and mixing them into a brew of a decapitated mortal’s blood, which she drinks at the climax of her own rite of ascendancy.
Sipán Acolytes learn that their power flows directly from the unknowable anger of the Decapitator, which rages like a flooded river. The Kindred sorcerers fuel their works by trawling at the edges of this fathomless rage, as evidenced by the tendency of their Beasts to rise unbidden in the heat of ritual. To counter this, the schooling of the Sipán focuses on strengthening the will of the Acolytes, so that they may better resist the powerful current of the great monster’s wake. Tests of fire, starvation and pain are common techniques, as are ritualized duels involving a complicated escalation of taunts and insults meant to draw the opponent to frenzy. Those who know the Sipán often comment on their stony countenance, even in the face of horrors unimaginable to most outsiders.
There are few holidays celebrated by the Sipán. Seeing themselves as the burdened defenders of their domains rather than religious celebrants, the Sipán meet for regular rituals and attempt to organize scheduled sacrifices in order to appease their god, but there is little in the way of secular rhyme or reason to their timing. Most rituals are held at the behest of an Elder Priest or Hierophant after reporting a daytime dream. Some Circles hold particularly vicious rituals on the anniversary of the conquistadors’ invasion of the Sipán territories, but these furious workings are by no means ubiquitous.
Most of the structured worship of the Sipán is involved in rigidly organized recitations of the litany and the ardent prayers of the Circle. While the individual Acolytes can and do create works of art (often inspired by their horrifying dreams of the Decapitator), the collective sacred spaces of each Circle tends to be fairly sparse. Stone carvings and the flat paintings of the raging monster are usually restricted to the personal havens of the Acolytes who create them.
The greatest worship of the cult is organized around mass sacrifices, which are conducted at the behest of a Hierophant’s visions. When the call is made, the Acolytes spread out in their domain, hunting down and retrieving as many living mortals as they can find. Some cults are wise enough to keep the numbers relatively low so as not to strain the Masquerade, but other cults become too wrapped up in their fear and sense of duty to worry about the earthly ramifications of discovery. The victims are all dragged to the sacred space of the Circle, where they are sacrificed, one after the other, in a bloody show of faith. The Hierophant cuts off the head and tears the heart from each body, presenting them as gifts to the Decapitator; the blood that spills from each victim stains the earth and stones around the Altar. At the end of the ritual, the bodies of the sacrifices are carried away and flung into the sea, where they sink (or are dragged?) below the surface, disappearing forever.
The ritual fear of the Sipán and their organized raids on the living populace of their domains are not the only binding qualities of the cult. The strongest and most overt tie that brings together the Acolytes is their hatred of modern Western culture and religion, and the utopian notion of the “return to nature.” Every Acolyte is taught that Judeo-Christian ethos, modern technology and free-market capitalism are the symptoms of a great sickness that warps and twists all of the people subjected to them.
The notion of a primal, communal life in the jungle is fetishized, serving as an ideological barrier between the Sipán and the outsider Kindred and providing the cult with a goal of sorts. The return to the jungle is mentioned often in the preaching of the Hierophants, but is held out as a state that can only be realized when the modern ways are purged from the land and the Decapitator is appeased by a sacrifice of sufficient size.
It matters little that no Sipán Acolyte has ever lived in this ideal state of harmony — it is enough for them to believe in it. Some elder Hierophants claim to remember the nights of peace and natural accord that preceded the coming of the conquistadors, but the elders’ memories are muddled by the passage of centuries and the crude dreams of Torpor.
Culture
Appearance: Contrary to expectation, the witches of the Sipán blend in very well with modern mortal society. They are not the sullen, primitive witches that certain outsiders make them out to be — instead, the Sipán take pains to keep to the Masquerade, just as their counterparts in other covenants do, and are known to be just as extravagant as any. It’s not uncommon to see a Sipán Acolyte in a tailored suit, riding around in the back of a chauffeured limousine.
Since the faction is fiercely individual, the members of the Sipán are free to dress as they choose. Even at ritual, they are a motley bunch, bringing together a mix of styles and sensibilities so diverse as to seem haphazard.
If they have one rule of dress, it is this: no member of the Sipán will ever wear a Christian cross. Their revulsion for the Catholic Church and their declared intolerance for its accoutrements are near-universal qualities among the faction. Even those less ardent Sipán Kindred will avoid the cross just to keep from agitating their fellow Acolytes.
Since the faction is fiercely individual, the members of the Sipán are free to dress as they choose. Even at ritual, they are a motley bunch, bringing together a mix of styles and sensibilities so diverse as to seem haphazard.
If they have one rule of dress, it is this: no member of the Sipán will ever wear a Christian cross. Their revulsion for the Catholic Church and their declared intolerance for its accoutrements are near-universal qualities among the faction. Even those less ardent Sipán Kindred will avoid the cross just to keep from agitating their fellow Acolytes.
Assets
Haven: As with their style of dress, the Sipán are fiercely individual about their homes. Normally quite well-appointed, each is decorated with the artwork of the Acolytes and their favorite mortal artists, and all are placed so as to allow the vampire a good vantage point over the local domain. Many havens are near or at the top of apartment buildings or in houses perched on the side of the mountains at the edge of Kindred territory.
One feature of every Sipán Haven that remains common throughout is the position and the nature of the ritual Altar. Each home will have a natural, unhewn stone placed in the corner of the home that lies nearest to the ocean. On the wall above the Altar stone, some representation of the Decapitator is always placed — whether painted, carved or otherwise embodied. A bloodstained bowl of some sort rests nearby, ready to catch the drippings of a sacrifice. Any other decoration is left to the individual Acolyte to choose. Some pile jeweled offerings, feathers and carved images on and around the Altar stone. Some spatter the wall with blood or pile the skulls of their victims at the Altar’s base, and others leave the space completely bare.
The vantage point offered by the Sipán Haven has a dual purpose. While it provides a clear view of the local neighborhood (and allows access to the skies for those who would make use of certain disciplines and Crúac rituals), the Haven also inevitably affords a view of a Christian church. The Sipán often meditate on these structures, focusing the fear and anger of their ancestors to help channel their magicks.
One feature of every Sipán Haven that remains common throughout is the position and the nature of the ritual Altar. Each home will have a natural, unhewn stone placed in the corner of the home that lies nearest to the ocean. On the wall above the Altar stone, some representation of the Decapitator is always placed — whether painted, carved or otherwise embodied. A bloodstained bowl of some sort rests nearby, ready to catch the drippings of a sacrifice. Any other decoration is left to the individual Acolyte to choose. Some pile jeweled offerings, feathers and carved images on and around the Altar stone. Some spatter the wall with blood or pile the skulls of their victims at the Altar’s base, and others leave the space completely bare.
The vantage point offered by the Sipán Haven has a dual purpose. While it provides a clear view of the local neighborhood (and allows access to the skies for those who would make use of certain disciplines and Crúac rituals), the Haven also inevitably affords a view of a Christian church. The Sipán often meditate on these structures, focusing the fear and anger of their ancestors to help channel their magicks.
History
Background: Most of the mortals who are recruited by the Sipán are drawn from the South American counterculture — rebels, criminals and mercenaries. All show a capacity for defiance and self-sufficiency, and most show open animosity to Western-style religious and political authority organizations.
In addition, every successful candidate for Embrace must show some talent in the occult arts, and usually demonstrates a fanatic zeal for the ideas of the cult — whether by proving herself in violent conflict with the agents of the interlopers or simply demonstrating her willingness to accept the teachings of the elder priests of the cult as the one truth.
In addition, every successful candidate for Embrace must show some talent in the occult arts, and usually demonstrates a fanatic zeal for the ideas of the cult — whether by proving herself in violent conflict with the agents of the interlopers or simply demonstrating her willingness to accept the teachings of the elder priests of the cult as the one truth.
Worship
Crúac: The sorcery of the Sipán is a gory, primal affair. Blood sacrifice, often in shocking quantity, is central to their workings and is considered a basic necessity. Most of their rituals are conducted on elevated plateaus (or rooftops) under an open sky, within view of the ocean. Altars are constructed of stark, rough-hewn stone, and the ritual accoutrements of the Acolytes are crafted of leather and Bone.
The Sipán believe that the blood spilled in their ceremonies is marked for the Decapitator, and must not be ingested or carried off by any of the practitioners. To purify themselves after a ritual (and insure no accidental removal of the great beast’s property), they traditionally wash themselves in the sea. The salt crusts that dry onto their flesh afterwards are considered marks of divine approval and are scraped off into bowls and preserved for use in certain powerful rites.
To the Sipán, the powerful effects of Crúac are gifts of the Decapitator, designed to assist them in preparing its sacrifices and overseeing the mortal population. They believe that their great god (or goddess) is constantly watching their works, and that they are extensions of its will. If an Acolyte fails to complete a ritual, the practitioner must acknowledge that his personal desire has corrupted the intent of the Decapitator’s faithful servants and withdraw. He must then subject himself to a difficult trial of faith before the Hierophant declares him ready to perform further magicks.
The Sipán believe that the blood spilled in their ceremonies is marked for the Decapitator, and must not be ingested or carried off by any of the practitioners. To purify themselves after a ritual (and insure no accidental removal of the great beast’s property), they traditionally wash themselves in the sea. The salt crusts that dry onto their flesh afterwards are considered marks of divine approval and are scraped off into bowls and preserved for use in certain powerful rites.
To the Sipán, the powerful effects of Crúac are gifts of the Decapitator, designed to assist them in preparing its sacrifices and overseeing the mortal population. They believe that their great god (or goddess) is constantly watching their works, and that they are extensions of its will. If an Acolyte fails to complete a ritual, the practitioner must acknowledge that his personal desire has corrupted the intent of the Decapitator’s faithful servants and withdraw. He must then subject himself to a difficult trial of faith before the Hierophant declares him ready to perform further magicks.
Nickname
Headhunters
This is a thoroughly pejorative nickname, and to say that the Sipán fail to appreciate it is an understatement in the extreme. Claims to accuracy notwithstanding, only the bravest of vampires will casually refer to the Sipán this way.
Character Creation: Physical Attributes are primary among the resolute warriors of the Sipán. Their battles are fought in esoteric secrecy, and require rigorous honing of the body and training in various arts of combat. Willpower is very important to the cult, and its members are expected to harden their Resolve and Composure with self-imposed tests of will.
Physical Skills are paramount, and various combatrelated Merits are appreciated. However, the technology of firearms is taboo to the Sipán, and those who learn to use them in life are forbidden to take up the “tools of the interloper” in undeath. Most of the warriors of the cult train with the clubs, daggers, Bows and spears of tradition instead.
Faction Disciplines: Obfuscate and Vigor are the Disciplines favored by the sorcerers of the Sipán, and are often integrated into the schooling of neonates in the faction, regardless of clan heritage.
Concepts: Archaeologist silenced by the Embrace, believer in ancient powers, demonic death-dealer, fanatic warrior plucked from poverty, furious enemy of The Lancea Sanctum, iconoclastic ex-Catholic, knife-scarred occultist, mad devotee of the Decapitator, mystic criminal overseer, wise woman of the urban jungle
Headhunters
This is a thoroughly pejorative nickname, and to say that the Sipán fail to appreciate it is an understatement in the extreme. Claims to accuracy notwithstanding, only the bravest of vampires will casually refer to the Sipán this way.
Type
Religious, Sect
Ruling Organization
Parent Organization
Physical Skills are paramount, and various combatrelated Merits are appreciated. However, the technology of firearms is taboo to the Sipán, and those who learn to use them in life are forbidden to take up the “tools of the interloper” in undeath. Most of the warriors of the cult train with the clubs, daggers, Bows and spears of tradition instead.
Faction Disciplines: Obfuscate and Vigor are the Disciplines favored by the sorcerers of the Sipán, and are often integrated into the schooling of neonates in the faction, regardless of clan heritage.
Concepts: Archaeologist silenced by the Embrace, believer in ancient powers, demonic death-dealer, fanatic warrior plucked from poverty, furious enemy of The Lancea Sanctum, iconoclastic ex-Catholic, knife-scarred occultist, mad devotee of the Decapitator, mystic criminal overseer, wise woman of the urban jungle