The Carnival
Look at me and know what it truly means to be cursed! What is it you feel? Revulsion? Horror? Pity? No matter, for you cannot turn away, can you?
Of all those once born of woman, the Kindred, those who have shed the coil of mortality in exchange for an eternity of Damnation, are the monsters. The Kindred are unliving souls doomed to shadow and a feast of blood. However, even among monsters, some inevitably stand out as distinctly horrific.
One bloodline so embodies the twisted curse that all vampires suffer that the bloodline’s very presence is a thing of unprecedented disgust, a vile reminder of just how inhuman the Kindred really are. Yet paradoxically, even the most disciplined Kindred, entranced by their own inability to comprehend such cruelties of Embrace, find it diffi cult not to stare at these piteous mockeries of flesh and bone. These Freaks are renowned for their grotesquery, each singularly deformed to the extreme, and put to shame their mortal sideshow counterparts. So accursed is the Freaks’ Vitae that it literally twists and reshapes the corporeal shells of all new members, forever warping them into forms that mimic the most egregious congenital defects suffered by the kine. No alteration is too dramatic, leaving many Freaks severely handicapped.
For all the additional pain and inconvenience they must endure due to this bizarre lineage, the Freaks possess an uncanny degree of strength that few outsiders, to their misfortune, can guess. Although largely shunned by the greater Kindred community, the Freaks share a tremendous bond with others of their ilk. Few coteries — most often simply referred to as Carnivals — are as tight-knit as theirs — and with that intimacy comes power. The Carnival may not partake in the highly visible movements of the Danse Macabre, but a Carnival, despite its public face, is always more than a mere sideshow. The Freaks’ ability to turn their seeming physical limitations into unexpected advantages provides these monsters a unique edge, allowing them to enter places no other Kindred or kine can penetrate and, just as effectively, escape from places and situations that would be impossible for others. Those witnesses unfortunate enough to see a Freak putting on The Show — the bloodline’s signature Discipline — are in for an unpleasant surprise. Unable to pull their attention away from the disturbing display before them, they are open to all manner of inimical activity instigated by the bizarre vampires. Wise Kindred avoid the Carnival if they hear that it has come to town. Fools soon find themselves much worse off for the experience.
The Carnival claims its founder was known at the height of her celebrity as Anulka, the Bohemian Mermaid, a sideshow freak who toured Europe with a small circus during the 18th century. Legend has it that Anulka was treated worse than the trained animals and was kept locked in a cage for most of her adult life, an object of ridicule and fascination who earned the owner of the circus enough lucre to forgo any consideration of Anulka’s release. The malignant barker came to a just end at the hands of a blighted Kindred named Hagal, who is said to have taken pity upon the exploited Anulka, a creature even more repulsive than himself. Hagal took her as his own childe and, with her assistance, usurped control of the circus from its fi nancial overseers.
Upon Hagal’s mysterious demise, Anulka created childer of her own, fl edglings whose bodies underwent traumatic transformations as the full power of their sire’s Vitae infused them with her utterly warped psychology. Freaks like their creator and, therefore, unwelcome even among Kindred society, these childer cleaved to one another as family, and their circus became a traveling horror show, its formerly human oddities both its greatest attraction and its darkest secret.
In time, the circus became too great a threat to the Masquerade — at least that’s the story most Kindred tell — and was destroyed in a night of bloodshed and fi re. Not all the Freaks met their ends, however. Those who survived fl ed. Later, some established their own nightmarish Carnivals with their own twisted broods. Tonight, a small number of these vile bands survive. A few provide the darkest of entertainment for other vampires, putting on The Show in Elysium in return for feeding rights or other favors. Other Carnivals travel from domain to domain to survive, playing to Kindred and kine alike as the Freaks pass through each domain, using The Show to maintain the First Tradition even as they reveal the true horror of the Requiem.
One bloodline so embodies the twisted curse that all vampires suffer that the bloodline’s very presence is a thing of unprecedented disgust, a vile reminder of just how inhuman the Kindred really are. Yet paradoxically, even the most disciplined Kindred, entranced by their own inability to comprehend such cruelties of Embrace, find it diffi cult not to stare at these piteous mockeries of flesh and bone. These Freaks are renowned for their grotesquery, each singularly deformed to the extreme, and put to shame their mortal sideshow counterparts. So accursed is the Freaks’ Vitae that it literally twists and reshapes the corporeal shells of all new members, forever warping them into forms that mimic the most egregious congenital defects suffered by the kine. No alteration is too dramatic, leaving many Freaks severely handicapped.
For all the additional pain and inconvenience they must endure due to this bizarre lineage, the Freaks possess an uncanny degree of strength that few outsiders, to their misfortune, can guess. Although largely shunned by the greater Kindred community, the Freaks share a tremendous bond with others of their ilk. Few coteries — most often simply referred to as Carnivals — are as tight-knit as theirs — and with that intimacy comes power. The Carnival may not partake in the highly visible movements of the Danse Macabre, but a Carnival, despite its public face, is always more than a mere sideshow. The Freaks’ ability to turn their seeming physical limitations into unexpected advantages provides these monsters a unique edge, allowing them to enter places no other Kindred or kine can penetrate and, just as effectively, escape from places and situations that would be impossible for others. Those witnesses unfortunate enough to see a Freak putting on The Show — the bloodline’s signature Discipline — are in for an unpleasant surprise. Unable to pull their attention away from the disturbing display before them, they are open to all manner of inimical activity instigated by the bizarre vampires. Wise Kindred avoid the Carnival if they hear that it has come to town. Fools soon find themselves much worse off for the experience.
The Carnival claims its founder was known at the height of her celebrity as Anulka, the Bohemian Mermaid, a sideshow freak who toured Europe with a small circus during the 18th century. Legend has it that Anulka was treated worse than the trained animals and was kept locked in a cage for most of her adult life, an object of ridicule and fascination who earned the owner of the circus enough lucre to forgo any consideration of Anulka’s release. The malignant barker came to a just end at the hands of a blighted Kindred named Hagal, who is said to have taken pity upon the exploited Anulka, a creature even more repulsive than himself. Hagal took her as his own childe and, with her assistance, usurped control of the circus from its fi nancial overseers.
Upon Hagal’s mysterious demise, Anulka created childer of her own, fl edglings whose bodies underwent traumatic transformations as the full power of their sire’s Vitae infused them with her utterly warped psychology. Freaks like their creator and, therefore, unwelcome even among Kindred society, these childer cleaved to one another as family, and their circus became a traveling horror show, its formerly human oddities both its greatest attraction and its darkest secret.
In time, the circus became too great a threat to the Masquerade — at least that’s the story most Kindred tell — and was destroyed in a night of bloodshed and fi re. Not all the Freaks met their ends, however. Those who survived fl ed. Later, some established their own nightmarish Carnivals with their own twisted broods. Tonight, a small number of these vile bands survive. A few provide the darkest of entertainment for other vampires, putting on The Show in Elysium in return for feeding rights or other favors. Other Carnivals travel from domain to domain to survive, playing to Kindred and kine alike as the Freaks pass through each domain, using The Show to maintain the First Tradition even as they reveal the true horror of the Requiem.
Culture
Culture and cultural heritage
Background: Contrary to popular belief, most of the Carnival is made up of individuals who in life were not deformed horrors, or at least not outwardly. Freaks understand full well what it means to be an outcast, and few wish to visit the curse of undeath upon those already bearing the diffi cult hardship of pariah. Instead, Freaks tend to select childer from among those mortals whose inner nature is already far more warped than their outward appearance would suggest.
Some Freaks feel that the Embrace is a just punishment for such cretins and enjoy watching their newfound progeny struggle with the harsh vicissitudes that the Requiem brings. Other Freaks recognize in their marks just how uniquely suited they are for unlife among the Damned. Unlike many celebrated mortal freaks, those who join the Carnival are rarely models of morality and compassion. The painful and often crippling changes wrought by the Vitae of the bloodline upon the new Freak’s body works into the psyche with similar force. Very few have the fortitude to hang on to their Humanity when they are savaged by the curse of the Carnival in addition to the breadth of difficulties they already face as vampires.
People already accustomed to a lifetime of perversion and atrocity are far more likely to survive the transformation that will occur when they are finally ready to inherit the telltale legacy of the Carnival. In the bloodline’s infancy, true freaks — those deformed by birth, not Blood — were the norm. Tonight, they are the exception outside of the ranks of the Carnival’s elders. Although some Freaks relish the relative power that undeath has provided them, others see their Requiems as Hell on Earth, for they have been denied the one escape possible from their tragic conditions. Still, the rare childe is conceived who is already intimately familiar with what it means to be a freak.
Anulka was a Slovak girl born in 1742 with the misfortune of having her legs fused together, a condition named sirenomelia because of the victim’s resemblance to the mythical siren. Anulka, rejected by her mother at birth, was taken in by the Church, which wholly expected the infant to die within days. To both surprise and horror, the child did not perish, and, though affl icted with pain and numerous attendant complications, the freak of nature survived God’s cruel joke. As she grew older, her caretakers treated her with increasing harshness but, afraid that the girl was a divine test, the nuns did not dare to visit harm upon her. Instead, when Anulka experienced her fi rst menses, she was expelled from the orphanage and handed over to a local businessman in exchange for cash.
Although the entrepreneur promised the sisters that the young woman would be well taken care of, he, in fact, had no such intention. Rather, he acted only as a middleman for Josef Gensch, the manager of a small circus that traveled through Bohemia, Austria, and Germany. Gensch knew a money-maker when he saw it, and, in Anulka, he saw a small fortune. Once he had her in his possession, any pretense at hospitality ceased, and the deformed girl was thrust into the inhuman world of the early sideshow. Sharing a fi lthy, straw-strewn cage fl oor with an imbecilic albino, she was turned overnight into just another spectacle for The Show.
Towners — those locals who were lured to the circus — would come each day to Gawk at the advertised Mermaid of Bohemia for a few pfennigs and would fi ll Anulka’s ears with words that were more injurious than her living conditions. She was spit on, insulted, threatened and degraded each day, her only solace the quiet hours of the night when she would pray to God for salvation. To add to her agonies, Gensch grew fond of having Anulka brought to his quarters now and then to satisfy his deviant lusts. In her mind, she was being punished by the Almighty, perhaps for the sins of the mother she never knew, for her life was as bad as any Hell could conjure up in her imagination. Any hope that God might rescue her fi nally died under Gensch’s slimy affections. The Mermaid of Bohemia no longer prayed to Heaven, but instead begged for Death to ease her torment.
Her pleading did not go unheard, and one fateful night Death did answer her call. The circus had been in the town of Linz for only two days when Hagal, a neonate Kindred, paid a visit to the traveling show. Prowling through the throng of circus-goers, Hagal remained among the wagons and tents after the public had been sent home and the showmen and rousties found rest after their long day’s work. The interloper noted one wagon in particular — the office, or the circus leader’s wagon — for from within emanated the sounds of pleasure and pain, emotions that stoked the young Kindred’s bloodlust. The wagon’s door was locked, but Hagal was too caught up in the moment to care, andtore the barrier from its hinges. Inside he found Gensch and Anulka, the former forcing his “mermaid” to provide him the basest of pleasures, to her clear distaste. Unable to control his own sense of arousal, Hagal launched himself upon the stunned circus leader and satisfi ed every one of his own monstrous urges, relishing the heavy splash of blood that fi lled his maw. Anulka sought only to fl ee, but her condition made that all but impossible. Instead, she could only cower in terror from the demon before her. In those brief moments before Hagal turned on her, she came to a simple yet fortifying conclusion. God had cursed her for the sins of her parents and had abandoned her to Hell. Now, the Devil had come to ease her suffering and offer her his own brand of salvation. Her darkest prayers had been answered. With that, her fright vanished.
Sated with Gensch’s blood, Hagal eyed the deformed woman before him. As one who bore the curse of Damnation, Hagal knew what it meant to be feared and hated and abused, and a glint of his lingering Humanity rose to the surface. What fi nally decided the fate of the freak was Anulka’s utter lack of fear of the blood-soaked vampire, who surely could destroy her with nary a thought. She seemed at peace, even excited at her expected demise, a reaction that caught Hagal by surprise. Here was a creature truly fi t for the mantle of the Kindred, a creature who was already comfortable bearing a horrible stigma without complaint. Imagine what she could be with the power of Vitae at her command! Without further hesitation, Hagal opened her neck and let the lifeblood given her by God spill out onto the already bloodstained floor. In place of God-given blood, Hagal gave his childe his own accursed Vitae, infl icting upon her the full weight of the Embrace.
Together, Hagal and Anulka seized control of the circus, using the power of their Vitae to enslave key members of the group and put them in charge. The circus continued on its route as if nothing had happened, stopping in the usual towns and putting on The Show, as the circus always had. However, this time, the circus collected blood as well as money from the locals, providing the circus’ undead masters everything they needed to survive. When The Show returned to Prague, the circus’ owners — three merchants who bankrolled the enterprise and put Gensch in charge of day-to-day affairs — attempted to re-assert their control by installing a new overseer and seizing their share of the profi ts, but the Kindred would have none of it. Hagal and Anulka visited each of the owners in turn, impressing upon each one the need to immediately dissolve his relationship with the carnival, which worked precisely as desired. Now in full control of the circus, the haunting duo set out to put on a show that would exceed any other in history.
For more than three decades, they did what they set out to do. The small circus gained a reputation throughout Europe as a show not to be missed, and their regular route expanded to include larger and more distant locales. Unfortunately for the circus’ owners, the circus also gained the unwanted attention of certain infl uential Kindred, who grew concerned about the rumors of midnight “vampire shows” that circus-goers could see with the purchase of a special, high-priced ticket.
While the circus was performing on the outskirts of Strasbourg, that town’s Kindred Prince received word from his own spy that the rumors were indeed true. Hagal and Anulka were putting on a special exhibition in the middle of the night for a small audience that included not only blood-drinking but also a display of their vampiric powers, a fl agrant violation of the First Tradition. Enraged, the Prince commanded his Sheriff to drag the outlaws to his court to answer for their crimes. With the help of some backup, the Sheriff did manage to get his hands on Hagal, but Anulka escaped the notice of the Sheriff’s enforcers. Hagal was summarily tried, convicted and executed by Strasbourg’s Prince. Anulka was convicted in absentia, and her circus was ordered destroyed in the hope that the punishment would flush her out of hiding.
Instead, Anulka was only driven away, finding refuge with the aid of a Retainer. Her sire and her circus were gone, but her will was unbroken. She retreated to her homeland and founded a new organization, something that would be less obvious and more able to move at a moment’s notice. Instead of a full circus, she operated a small traveling carnival and created her own brood of childer to assist her and enhance the outfi t’s appeal. To her surprise, her progeny eventually began to change, becoming true freaks like her, each unique in his or her disfi gurement. Anulka had become the progenitor of her own foul bloodline — she was a Freak and her family was the Carnival.
By the mid-19th century, the bloodline claimed more than two dozen members, and the original Carnival had spawned other Carnivals. However, the nature of the Freaks and of Kindred society at large meant that the Carnival had to remain a largely secretive and limited lineage. Princes and Primogen were still extremely wary of any news of the Carnival and wasted little time in investigating such reports. This environment led to a few Freaks making the arduous journey to the United States and signing on with one of the numerous small circuses that had become so popular there.
At the end of the 1800s, with the waning of fullfledged circuses, and their replacement by an even greater number of carnivals and sideshows, the Freaks found their niche. American Kindred nursed far less Paranoia than their European counterparts, and the relatively wide-open country made it far more diffi cult for antagonistic Kindred to pursue the Carnival, let alone even hear the rumors about their true nature.
Tonight, the Carnival remains true to its origins. A mostly closed society, the Carnival clings to the fringes of Kindred society, putting on The Show and surviving. Concentrated in North America, where the bloodline surpasses three dozen members, the Carnival still claims family in Europe and parts of the Mediterranean. Rumors of at least one Carnival in the Far East have also been heard, but so far they remain just that.
Those rare Kindred who understand the inner workings of the Carnival speculate that this obedience has more to do with some innate servility that every Freak feels, perhaps an unseen aspect of their line’s weakness, than because of any real superiority of the boss.
The Freaks laugh at this supposition. Their deformities and social stigma do not compel them to servility. Because they have only each other to protect against the worst the Requiem can throw at them, they have few other options. So long as the Front Offi ce does not command them to waltz into a blazing inferno, they are usually satisfied to follow orders, even if grumblingly. The alternative — each Freak for himself — is too terrifying to consider.
The boss’s primary function is to protect the Carnival from any and all danger. If he fails in this regard, his tenure will likely be dramatically short. Allowing the Carnival’s wealth to be swiped is just reason to depose the leader, usually with a hearty beating. Permitting one of the Freaks under his aegis to suffer Final Death is inexcusable. Tales of bosses being literally tarred, feathered and left to burn in the morning sun are commonplace and probably not over-exaggerated.
There are three tiers of social standing underneath the Man: troupers, greens and punks. Troupers are those Freaks who have been with the Carnival for at least one full circuit of its usual route, in the case of a traveling Carnival, or who have been with the Carnival at least a year, in the case of an established Carnival. These Freaks have essentially proven themselves and are accepted as full members of the Carnival, with all the rights it offers. Most importantly, troupers are permitted to put on their own private shows and may keep whatever profi ts they take in as a result. In exchange, they must pay Management a Vitae tithe, known as the Privilege, with precise terms set by the Carnival’s leader. Among this social caste, those Freaks who have meted out punishment to Kindred who intended to or succeeded in visiting harm upon the Carnival are especially respected. The “pinhead” who beat the Sheriff’s lackey into Torpor for trying to set fi re to one of the group’s trailers, while lacking wit, will be held in great esteem by the bloodline. Aside from these rare few, most troupers are judged by the quality of their acts. The “Frog Boy” who simply squats on a stage has nothing on the “Two-Headed Woman” who is able to sing a two-part harmony and put on a comic argument with herself. A Freak seeking greater recognition among her peers need only work on her performance until it surpasses expectation.
The greens are those Freaks who have yet to qualify as troupers, by dint of little time spent with the Carnival. Because greens cannot put on their own shows, they either perform as part of a trouper’s act — and have no claim to the profi ts received — or they refrain from performance entirely and instead assist in whatever capacity they are permitted. It is important to note that Freaks do not accord Status based upon the nature of one’s deformities. A double-bodied Freak has no more or less inherent Status than one who suffers from “lobster” hands. Merit, not disfi gurement, is what matters most to the Carnival.
The third rung of the Carnival’s ladder is composed of those curious Kindred who desire to keep company with the bloodline, for whatever reason. Punks often work as shills during performances or otherwise engage in offering personal protection or assistance to individual Freaks. Some of these Kindred are used as gaffed, or fake, freaks or perform talent acts — sword-swallowing, marksmanship, magic shows and so on — with all profi ts going to the Carnival’s manager.
Most Carnivals also claim a few mortals, in addition to the Kindred, as part of the family. Although mortals hold very low Status, the various roustabouts, talkers, shills, joint men, advance men, blood dolls, and soonto- be-corpses the Freaks have successfully lured into their twisted spectacle are important to the Carnival’s overall success and survival.
Central to the Requiem of every Freak is The Show, a term that has a double meaning in the Carnival. On the one hand, “The Show” refers to the actual performance that a Freak puts on for an audience with the intent of taking audience members’ valuables, blood included. “The Show” is also the name of the line’s unique Discipline that enables a Freak to better gain the attention of the crowd and become even more shockingly deformed before their unblinking eyes. Because the best acts also lead to greater prestige in the eyes of the Carnival, The Show, in both senses of the meaning, is of paramount importance. A Freak will go to nearly any length to make his act better, including stealing another Freak’s ideas, putting his unlife at risk to obtain some prop or the secret to a particularly spectacular trick and even breaking The Traditions. Freaks spend a great deal of time rehearsing The Show, perfecting every nuance of the performance and testing its effect upon the audience. The latter is accomplished by peer review, dry-runs before the roustabouts and the use of select “test audiences,” who rarely ever see the light of day again.
Competition among the Freaks for the best Show can be fi erce, but only rarely does such competition lead to physical attack. Usually, the battle for prestige literally takes place on the performance stage as well as via carefully placed rumors and accusations. Snide comments, pointed jabs and ghastly bits of slander always seem to accompany every Freak who seeks to climb this social ladder. The most original act will be labeled a rip-off and will be cruelly deconstructed by the invisible naysayers who hope to put the most avantgarde Freak in her place.
Most accusations and gossip can be put to rest by a simple compliment paid by a boss, but this is very hard to come by. Instead, the exchange tends to eventually die down to a murmur after enough time has passed. In those rare instances when a Freak decides to take the competition to another level and actually engages in sabotage or violence, all bets are off and it is Management’s job to step in as quickly as possible to put an end to the confl ict. The Carnival maintains its own refi nement of the Masquerade: never let outsiders see our problems. Freaks who violate this rule can expect a punishment they will never forget.
The Carnival does its best to skirt the scrutiny of other Kindred not by actually hiding from view, but by simply not making waves and by staying uninvolved in local politics, at least openly. The Carnival chooses to pitch its tent away from the Rack and other places frequented by or likely to be the favored domain of other Kindred. Management also often makes a gesture to the Prince as soon as possible that is intended to test the waters, as it were. In most cases, a ghoul or sometimes a Freak Kindred gathers information on the next city on the route.
If a city Kindred’s hostility toward the bloodline is apparent, the Carnival will move on or entirely bypass the spot. When the Prince shows a bit less antagonism, the Carnival usually offers some kind of favor or kickback in addition to a guarantee that the Carnival will not be a drain on the local Herd and will abide by any Traditions or decrees the Prince wishes to make known, which often include limits on how long the Carnival can stay, where its members may go and so on. Once given permission to set up shop, the Carnival will locate the best place to do so and send out a few of its Retainers to gather a crowd.
It is never the Carnival’s intention to broadcast its presence openly and have long lines of curious kine waiting to see the Freaks. Rather, they target very specifi c groups that are likely to keep the existence of the Carnival secret. Typical marks are shut-ins, jaded subcultures, the ill and others who seek some kind of deviant charge to put a spark back into their lives. The Carnival also courts certain criminals, the deranged, military veterans and other people who have seen atrocity fi rsthand and have gained a taste for such things. The enticements used to lure these unwitting victims to their doom vary. The ballyhoo can include spirited argument and persuasion, promises of monetary gain, an offer of narcotics or nearly any type of appeal suited to the particular mark being played.
The Show itself typically entertains a group of five or more kine per performance, with as many as a dozen being the practical outer limit. During The Show, the Freak will identify one or more rubes who would most satisfy her inhuman cravings and will use some sign to indicate that individual’s identity to her assistants. As The Show progresses and the audience is unable to tear its eyes away from the Freak, these assistants will rifl e through the pockets, purses and backpacks of the gawking fools, taking anything of value. The assistants will also remove those kine the Freak has pointed out, using whatever force is necessary, and take the prey to a separate area, where they are secured for the blowoff.
When The Show is over, the remaining audience is shown the exit and returned to the streets to carry on as before, though likely now haunted by nightmarish visions that they will never forget. The blowoff comes when the Freak descends, in all her grotesque hunger, upon the immobilized marks set aside for her bloodthirsty purposes. Sometimes, if the Freak does not require a great deal of Vitae and if she has enough kine for the blowoff, some or all of these unfortunates are left alive and released. However, just as often, their lives are forfeited, and they are given a Show that no mortal would ever wish to see.
“Yeah, it’s true, I tell ya. I heard it from this holy-roller bitch who knew the bastard, spent time in Barcelona as a neonate or something. Yeah. Hey, shut up already, will ya? You want to hear the story, don’t cha? Okay, then zip it and let me tell it.
“See, it happened sometime around 1800 or something, I think. Anyway, the date’s not what’s important. It was a long fuckin’ time ago, alright? The Prince of Madrid, or somewhere else near there — it was a Spanish city, I know that much — was minding his own fuckin’ business — you know, knocking heads, stomping on neonates, playing high-and-mighty — when he hears that the Carnival has just pulled into town. Of course, the first thing that he thinks is, ‘Oh shit, not a bunch of Freaks messin’ with my turf,’ of course. I mean, do ya blame him? So he decides to send his kid out to see if the rumor has legs and then come back and give him the lowdown.
“Well, junior’s never heard of these Freaks before, so he’s all juiced to track ’em down and see what the commotion is all about. He’s a self-important fuck just like his old man, buying into the whole vice-Princely power-trip thing, so he figures he’s gonna just waltz in and lay down the law on the circus mutants. Well, after a bit of screwin’ around — the kid couldn’t fi nd his ass if wasn’t attached — he finally finds someone who points him in the right direction, and he marches on out to meet the weirdoes.
“Sure enough, they turn out to be exactly what daddy told him they were, and he nearly pukes himself having to look at them. Well, any thought of playing lord and master go out the window as his stomach turns, and he runs back to pops and gives him the dirt on the Carnival. You know, he saw how fucked-up they were, all deformed and shit; most of ’em shouldn’t have survived birth like that, ya know?
“Fuck ’em. They should just be set on fire. At least no one would have to see that kinda shit anymore.
“Anyway, the Prince thinks about this, probably calls all his cronies together to waste more time, and finally announces to everybody that unless the Freaks formally request his permission to squat in his town, they’ll be destroyed. So, he sends his idiot son back to the carny camp to tell ’em how it is. The chief Freak, the fuckin’ ringleader himself, does a little dog-and-pony show for the Seneschal, saying how most of his coterie can’t make the journey to Elysium because of their condition and that kinda crap, which is bullshit if you ask me. The prick shoulda pushed it, but he wussed out and said it was cool if only the leader of the Freaks came back to court to speak for the whole motley crew.
“Well, to make a long story short, things didn’t go too fuckin’ well for the Freaks. The Prince decided that enough was enough, and he wasted the midget fucker on the spot. Betcha it was funny as shit to watch Tiny Tim beggin’ for mercy. The Prince then ordered the whole Carnival to be wiped out by any means necessary. Of course, the best method was fi re, so he passed on the order to a bunch of kine fuck-ups and told them to do the dirty deed just before the sun set the next evening, so they’d all die in their sleep.
“Thing is, the head Freak didn’t come to Elysium alone. Another Freak somehow fuckin’ squeezed his ass into court without anyone noticing a thing, and he saw the shit go down. He rushed back to his circus pals faster than possible and told them the whole story. So, instead of just leaving town immediately, the Freaks decided to do one last thing before they high-tailed it out of Madrid or wherever.
“A few of them went back to town, somehow broke into the Prince’s own goddamn Haven, and kidnapped him! No shit! And remember, it was still night, so it wasn’t like the Prince was a pushover or anything. These little monsters actually managed to take him out of his Haven and back to the Carnival without anyone being the wiser.
“Okay, I don’t know exactly what happened next. Only the Freaks know that. But here’s how it all shook out. The Carnival was gone by sunrise, and so the mooks sent to torch ’em out never found shit and figured it was just as well.
“But it didn’t take a genius to fi gure out that something bad had happened when the Prince was discovered missing. Now, here’s the kicker. Really, this is some fucked-up shit. About a year later, the same Carnival turns up in France or something doing its usual shit. But this time, they have a new attraction. In a cage is a new Freak, one with no arms and no legs and moves by wiggling its scaly body like a snake. And you know what? It was called the Vampire Worm of Old Spain, and guess what? It had the Prince’s face. No fuckin’ shit. Somehow, those Freaks turned the Prince into a Freak himself and now he was just another act in their little nightmare world.
“That, my compadre, is the plain fuckin’ truth.”
Secret Origins
A fragment of the journal of Hieronymous, Ordo Dracul philosopher:
Jul. 17, 1739
The Great Work has consumed me. I am depleted in mind and body, and I know no more how much further I can go with this effort. Already, my progress has moved not an inch further for over a year, and I fear that I am going in circles. I feel more and more the call of sleep, of a lassitude that will claim me for the ages and from which I might one night rise again, though my past work be forgotten. My student grows restless, eager for his master to triumph as in nights long past, but it seems not to be. If I do not dismiss him, he shall become more foe than aid, pitching his ambition against me and tempting my meaner instincts. This I must avoid at all costs. Although my knowledge of the Coils ordinarily places me beyond such urges, ennui gnaws at even that achievement nightly.
Jul. 18, 1739
It has happened: a discovery. I am renewed, and the Great Work can continue. The Man within me is once again awakened to possibilities that just a night ago remained unseen.
Subject Four (Gustav, I have come to call him, though I know it is a petty conceit), has changed. He has not been provided Vitae for six nights, and tonight I chose to give him the very first draught from the variant I had already forsaken as worthless on account of its impurities. Surely, its exposure to the crystalline dust that accumulated in the cabinet after the failed experiment of Jul. 7 should have rendered it so, yet tonight is proof that a new path has been opened. I must re-examine all my notes from before and tomorrow recreate that so-called failure.
Upon consuming only 19 drams of the variant, he convulsed in a way that I initially mistook as fatal, the result of a toxic concoction. I was done with him, so no matter. The convulsions continued for at least two minutes, however, followed not by death, but something else entirely. In utterly astounding fashion, he let out a loud gasp as his arms began to withdraw inside his torso. There was no attendant expansion of the chest or abdominal cavity, which should have been the case, no matter how outlandish the activity, but there was not. Rather, the limbs just seemed to melt into him as he screamed in pain (surely, it must hurt; I forgave him his noise). When the transformation was over, a change unlike any other I have ever witnessed, only his hands remained. These too were different: distended in asymmetrical fashion and apparently useless to the subject. A careful examination with saw and scalpel afterward revealed that the entire length of the arms that had previously existed, along with all muscle and skin, had entirely vanished. It was as if the subject had been born with this Deformity.
Aug. 3, 1639
So far, eleven entirely different results have occurred with fourteen subjects, all the result of the same batch of variant. Only the instances of the missing legs, the shrunken head and the skeleton-like emaciation have been repeated, in one case each.
Tomorrow, I shall endeavor to isolate the differentiator, focusing on the missing legs first. I imagine it is either related to ethnic background, diet prior to the Embrace or some mental desire or fear on the part of the subject. The latter will require the greatest attention, given its difficulty. There is much progress to be made if the nature and value of this transformation is to be better understood. What it might offer our kind I cannot yet estimate.
The Devil’s Menagerie
In the 1940s, in Oklahoma City, somewhere in the vicinity of the stockyards and left to its own devices by the Kindred powers that be, stood a Carnival like no other.
Led by a hideously deformed vampire who claimed to be the King of Freaks, the Carnival went far beyond the usual spectacle put on by the bloodline. Not only were there the usual assortment of Freaks — both living and unliving — and the assorted roustabouts and hangers-on typical in other Carnivals, but there were also other creatures that normally kept their presence a secret to humankind.
One of the featured acts was the Werewolf Boy, a young man who was said not, as would be expected, to merely suffer from an extreme case of hirsutism, but was an actual lycanthrope, a Lupine. The act consisted of the youth undergoing a complete transformation from man to werewolf before the startled audience, with his bloodcurdling howls carrying over the sounds of all the other acts and putting a fright into livestock miles away.
Another popular attraction was the Astounding Gabriel, Mentalist and Illusionist. Each evening, this placid gentleman would perform a series of increasingly incredible feats, including mind-reading, levitation and conjuration. The fi nale of his performance included the most unbelievable trick of all. The conjurer called for an assistant to bring a chest onto the stage. Then the conjurer turned his back to the audience and tossed a baseball into the air above their heads. Whoever was able to get his hands on the ball was permitted to name one object that resided in his home and was small enough to fi t inside the chest. After the object was described, Gabriel sat upon the chest and concentrated for a few moments. Then, to the delight of all, he would open the chest and, from it, retrieve an object fi tting the exact description given him. He would even permit the member of the audience who named the object to come on stage and examine the object to be sure it was his. Finally, the conjurer allowed the astonished participant to take the object with him, as it was, Gabriel noted with a knowing smile, “his anyway. I’m a magician, not a thief.”
The most disturbing oddities of all left their audiences with nightmares to last a lifetime. Such acts included bloody dismemberment, cannibalism and, in one instance, a live birth by a woman of enormous girth, with two very different, but each singularly blasphemous, children issuing from her loins. Audience members were hypnotized and openly eviscerated, if some reports are true, and the effects of numerous Kindred Disciplines were freely demonstrated for the sake of The Show.
The King of Freaks seemed a particularly wicked fellow, his gaze captivating all who looked upon his disfigured form, and his voice sounding as if it rose up from the throat of Old Scratch himself. Under the King of Freaks’ leadership, nothing was too profane, too impossible or too dangerous.
The Carnival disappeared from Oklahoma City sometime during the early 1950s. For a time, various rumors placed the King of the Freaks and his show in other cities, mostly west of the Mississippi. These rumors stopped entirely for the next 50 years, with most Kindred speculating that the Carnival met its just end. However, only last year, word was heard in Elysium that the Astounding Gabriel’s show was seen in Pittsburgh and whispers that a Freak claiming dominion over all his kind began to spread in New York. Perhaps the Devil’s Menagerie has been biding its time, honing its act for its next performance.
Some Freaks feel that the Embrace is a just punishment for such cretins and enjoy watching their newfound progeny struggle with the harsh vicissitudes that the Requiem brings. Other Freaks recognize in their marks just how uniquely suited they are for unlife among the Damned. Unlike many celebrated mortal freaks, those who join the Carnival are rarely models of morality and compassion. The painful and often crippling changes wrought by the Vitae of the bloodline upon the new Freak’s body works into the psyche with similar force. Very few have the fortitude to hang on to their Humanity when they are savaged by the curse of the Carnival in addition to the breadth of difficulties they already face as vampires.
People already accustomed to a lifetime of perversion and atrocity are far more likely to survive the transformation that will occur when they are finally ready to inherit the telltale legacy of the Carnival. In the bloodline’s infancy, true freaks — those deformed by birth, not Blood — were the norm. Tonight, they are the exception outside of the ranks of the Carnival’s elders. Although some Freaks relish the relative power that undeath has provided them, others see their Requiems as Hell on Earth, for they have been denied the one escape possible from their tragic conditions. Still, the rare childe is conceived who is already intimately familiar with what it means to be a freak.
History
Among carnival folk exaggeration, confabulation and outright lying are accepted as part of any tale, for even a whispered legend among close associates is as much a part of The Show as one broadcast onstage to a rapt audience of rubes. The story of the Carnival is no exception, and the Freaks would have it no other way. For them, the origin of their bloodline is just another reckoning intended to entertain fi rst and answer questions second. Even accepting its likely inaccuracies, most agree that, as told tonight, the narrative is probably not too far off the mark from the actual events that gave birth to this frightening brood.Anulka was a Slovak girl born in 1742 with the misfortune of having her legs fused together, a condition named sirenomelia because of the victim’s resemblance to the mythical siren. Anulka, rejected by her mother at birth, was taken in by the Church, which wholly expected the infant to die within days. To both surprise and horror, the child did not perish, and, though affl icted with pain and numerous attendant complications, the freak of nature survived God’s cruel joke. As she grew older, her caretakers treated her with increasing harshness but, afraid that the girl was a divine test, the nuns did not dare to visit harm upon her. Instead, when Anulka experienced her fi rst menses, she was expelled from the orphanage and handed over to a local businessman in exchange for cash.
Although the entrepreneur promised the sisters that the young woman would be well taken care of, he, in fact, had no such intention. Rather, he acted only as a middleman for Josef Gensch, the manager of a small circus that traveled through Bohemia, Austria, and Germany. Gensch knew a money-maker when he saw it, and, in Anulka, he saw a small fortune. Once he had her in his possession, any pretense at hospitality ceased, and the deformed girl was thrust into the inhuman world of the early sideshow. Sharing a fi lthy, straw-strewn cage fl oor with an imbecilic albino, she was turned overnight into just another spectacle for The Show.
Towners — those locals who were lured to the circus — would come each day to Gawk at the advertised Mermaid of Bohemia for a few pfennigs and would fi ll Anulka’s ears with words that were more injurious than her living conditions. She was spit on, insulted, threatened and degraded each day, her only solace the quiet hours of the night when she would pray to God for salvation. To add to her agonies, Gensch grew fond of having Anulka brought to his quarters now and then to satisfy his deviant lusts. In her mind, she was being punished by the Almighty, perhaps for the sins of the mother she never knew, for her life was as bad as any Hell could conjure up in her imagination. Any hope that God might rescue her fi nally died under Gensch’s slimy affections. The Mermaid of Bohemia no longer prayed to Heaven, but instead begged for Death to ease her torment.
Her pleading did not go unheard, and one fateful night Death did answer her call. The circus had been in the town of Linz for only two days when Hagal, a neonate Kindred, paid a visit to the traveling show. Prowling through the throng of circus-goers, Hagal remained among the wagons and tents after the public had been sent home and the showmen and rousties found rest after their long day’s work. The interloper noted one wagon in particular — the office, or the circus leader’s wagon — for from within emanated the sounds of pleasure and pain, emotions that stoked the young Kindred’s bloodlust. The wagon’s door was locked, but Hagal was too caught up in the moment to care, andtore the barrier from its hinges. Inside he found Gensch and Anulka, the former forcing his “mermaid” to provide him the basest of pleasures, to her clear distaste. Unable to control his own sense of arousal, Hagal launched himself upon the stunned circus leader and satisfi ed every one of his own monstrous urges, relishing the heavy splash of blood that fi lled his maw. Anulka sought only to fl ee, but her condition made that all but impossible. Instead, she could only cower in terror from the demon before her. In those brief moments before Hagal turned on her, she came to a simple yet fortifying conclusion. God had cursed her for the sins of her parents and had abandoned her to Hell. Now, the Devil had come to ease her suffering and offer her his own brand of salvation. Her darkest prayers had been answered. With that, her fright vanished.
Sated with Gensch’s blood, Hagal eyed the deformed woman before him. As one who bore the curse of Damnation, Hagal knew what it meant to be feared and hated and abused, and a glint of his lingering Humanity rose to the surface. What fi nally decided the fate of the freak was Anulka’s utter lack of fear of the blood-soaked vampire, who surely could destroy her with nary a thought. She seemed at peace, even excited at her expected demise, a reaction that caught Hagal by surprise. Here was a creature truly fi t for the mantle of the Kindred, a creature who was already comfortable bearing a horrible stigma without complaint. Imagine what she could be with the power of Vitae at her command! Without further hesitation, Hagal opened her neck and let the lifeblood given her by God spill out onto the already bloodstained floor. In place of God-given blood, Hagal gave his childe his own accursed Vitae, infl icting upon her the full weight of the Embrace.
Together, Hagal and Anulka seized control of the circus, using the power of their Vitae to enslave key members of the group and put them in charge. The circus continued on its route as if nothing had happened, stopping in the usual towns and putting on The Show, as the circus always had. However, this time, the circus collected blood as well as money from the locals, providing the circus’ undead masters everything they needed to survive. When The Show returned to Prague, the circus’ owners — three merchants who bankrolled the enterprise and put Gensch in charge of day-to-day affairs — attempted to re-assert their control by installing a new overseer and seizing their share of the profi ts, but the Kindred would have none of it. Hagal and Anulka visited each of the owners in turn, impressing upon each one the need to immediately dissolve his relationship with the carnival, which worked precisely as desired. Now in full control of the circus, the haunting duo set out to put on a show that would exceed any other in history.
For more than three decades, they did what they set out to do. The small circus gained a reputation throughout Europe as a show not to be missed, and their regular route expanded to include larger and more distant locales. Unfortunately for the circus’ owners, the circus also gained the unwanted attention of certain infl uential Kindred, who grew concerned about the rumors of midnight “vampire shows” that circus-goers could see with the purchase of a special, high-priced ticket.
While the circus was performing on the outskirts of Strasbourg, that town’s Kindred Prince received word from his own spy that the rumors were indeed true. Hagal and Anulka were putting on a special exhibition in the middle of the night for a small audience that included not only blood-drinking but also a display of their vampiric powers, a fl agrant violation of the First Tradition. Enraged, the Prince commanded his Sheriff to drag the outlaws to his court to answer for their crimes. With the help of some backup, the Sheriff did manage to get his hands on Hagal, but Anulka escaped the notice of the Sheriff’s enforcers. Hagal was summarily tried, convicted and executed by Strasbourg’s Prince. Anulka was convicted in absentia, and her circus was ordered destroyed in the hope that the punishment would flush her out of hiding.
Instead, Anulka was only driven away, finding refuge with the aid of a Retainer. Her sire and her circus were gone, but her will was unbroken. She retreated to her homeland and founded a new organization, something that would be less obvious and more able to move at a moment’s notice. Instead of a full circus, she operated a small traveling carnival and created her own brood of childer to assist her and enhance the outfi t’s appeal. To her surprise, her progeny eventually began to change, becoming true freaks like her, each unique in his or her disfi gurement. Anulka had become the progenitor of her own foul bloodline — she was a Freak and her family was the Carnival.
By the mid-19th century, the bloodline claimed more than two dozen members, and the original Carnival had spawned other Carnivals. However, the nature of the Freaks and of Kindred society at large meant that the Carnival had to remain a largely secretive and limited lineage. Princes and Primogen were still extremely wary of any news of the Carnival and wasted little time in investigating such reports. This environment led to a few Freaks making the arduous journey to the United States and signing on with one of the numerous small circuses that had become so popular there.
At the end of the 1800s, with the waning of fullfledged circuses, and their replacement by an even greater number of carnivals and sideshows, the Freaks found their niche. American Kindred nursed far less Paranoia than their European counterparts, and the relatively wide-open country made it far more diffi cult for antagonistic Kindred to pursue the Carnival, let alone even hear the rumors about their true nature.
Tonight, the Carnival remains true to its origins. A mostly closed society, the Carnival clings to the fringes of Kindred society, putting on The Show and surviving. Concentrated in North America, where the bloodline surpasses three dozen members, the Carnival still claims family in Europe and parts of the Mediterranean. Rumors of at least one Carnival in the Far East have also been heard, but so far they remain just that.
Society and Culture
The Carnival looks to one Freak for leadership, variously called the boss, the Man, the Front Offi ce or simply Management, though such titles are usually used only for the benefi t of outsiders. Within the Freaks’ own Stygian tents, any pretense at formality is seen as just that —pretense. Despite the casual nature of the Carnival’s internal politics, this individual holds enormous influence. Management’s word is rarely disobeyed.Those rare Kindred who understand the inner workings of the Carnival speculate that this obedience has more to do with some innate servility that every Freak feels, perhaps an unseen aspect of their line’s weakness, than because of any real superiority of the boss.
The Freaks laugh at this supposition. Their deformities and social stigma do not compel them to servility. Because they have only each other to protect against the worst the Requiem can throw at them, they have few other options. So long as the Front Offi ce does not command them to waltz into a blazing inferno, they are usually satisfied to follow orders, even if grumblingly. The alternative — each Freak for himself — is too terrifying to consider.
The boss’s primary function is to protect the Carnival from any and all danger. If he fails in this regard, his tenure will likely be dramatically short. Allowing the Carnival’s wealth to be swiped is just reason to depose the leader, usually with a hearty beating. Permitting one of the Freaks under his aegis to suffer Final Death is inexcusable. Tales of bosses being literally tarred, feathered and left to burn in the morning sun are commonplace and probably not over-exaggerated.
There are three tiers of social standing underneath the Man: troupers, greens and punks. Troupers are those Freaks who have been with the Carnival for at least one full circuit of its usual route, in the case of a traveling Carnival, or who have been with the Carnival at least a year, in the case of an established Carnival. These Freaks have essentially proven themselves and are accepted as full members of the Carnival, with all the rights it offers. Most importantly, troupers are permitted to put on their own private shows and may keep whatever profi ts they take in as a result. In exchange, they must pay Management a Vitae tithe, known as the Privilege, with precise terms set by the Carnival’s leader. Among this social caste, those Freaks who have meted out punishment to Kindred who intended to or succeeded in visiting harm upon the Carnival are especially respected. The “pinhead” who beat the Sheriff’s lackey into Torpor for trying to set fi re to one of the group’s trailers, while lacking wit, will be held in great esteem by the bloodline. Aside from these rare few, most troupers are judged by the quality of their acts. The “Frog Boy” who simply squats on a stage has nothing on the “Two-Headed Woman” who is able to sing a two-part harmony and put on a comic argument with herself. A Freak seeking greater recognition among her peers need only work on her performance until it surpasses expectation.
The greens are those Freaks who have yet to qualify as troupers, by dint of little time spent with the Carnival. Because greens cannot put on their own shows, they either perform as part of a trouper’s act — and have no claim to the profi ts received — or they refrain from performance entirely and instead assist in whatever capacity they are permitted. It is important to note that Freaks do not accord Status based upon the nature of one’s deformities. A double-bodied Freak has no more or less inherent Status than one who suffers from “lobster” hands. Merit, not disfi gurement, is what matters most to the Carnival.
The third rung of the Carnival’s ladder is composed of those curious Kindred who desire to keep company with the bloodline, for whatever reason. Punks often work as shills during performances or otherwise engage in offering personal protection or assistance to individual Freaks. Some of these Kindred are used as gaffed, or fake, freaks or perform talent acts — sword-swallowing, marksmanship, magic shows and so on — with all profi ts going to the Carnival’s manager.
Most Carnivals also claim a few mortals, in addition to the Kindred, as part of the family. Although mortals hold very low Status, the various roustabouts, talkers, shills, joint men, advance men, blood dolls, and soonto- be-corpses the Freaks have successfully lured into their twisted spectacle are important to the Carnival’s overall success and survival.
Central to the Requiem of every Freak is The Show, a term that has a double meaning in the Carnival. On the one hand, “The Show” refers to the actual performance that a Freak puts on for an audience with the intent of taking audience members’ valuables, blood included. “The Show” is also the name of the line’s unique Discipline that enables a Freak to better gain the attention of the crowd and become even more shockingly deformed before their unblinking eyes. Because the best acts also lead to greater prestige in the eyes of the Carnival, The Show, in both senses of the meaning, is of paramount importance. A Freak will go to nearly any length to make his act better, including stealing another Freak’s ideas, putting his unlife at risk to obtain some prop or the secret to a particularly spectacular trick and even breaking The Traditions. Freaks spend a great deal of time rehearsing The Show, perfecting every nuance of the performance and testing its effect upon the audience. The latter is accomplished by peer review, dry-runs before the roustabouts and the use of select “test audiences,” who rarely ever see the light of day again.
Competition among the Freaks for the best Show can be fi erce, but only rarely does such competition lead to physical attack. Usually, the battle for prestige literally takes place on the performance stage as well as via carefully placed rumors and accusations. Snide comments, pointed jabs and ghastly bits of slander always seem to accompany every Freak who seeks to climb this social ladder. The most original act will be labeled a rip-off and will be cruelly deconstructed by the invisible naysayers who hope to put the most avantgarde Freak in her place.
Most accusations and gossip can be put to rest by a simple compliment paid by a boss, but this is very hard to come by. Instead, the exchange tends to eventually die down to a murmur after enough time has passed. In those rare instances when a Freak decides to take the competition to another level and actually engages in sabotage or violence, all bets are off and it is Management’s job to step in as quickly as possible to put an end to the confl ict. The Carnival maintains its own refi nement of the Masquerade: never let outsiders see our problems. Freaks who violate this rule can expect a punishment they will never forget.
The Carnival does its best to skirt the scrutiny of other Kindred not by actually hiding from view, but by simply not making waves and by staying uninvolved in local politics, at least openly. The Carnival chooses to pitch its tent away from the Rack and other places frequented by or likely to be the favored domain of other Kindred. Management also often makes a gesture to the Prince as soon as possible that is intended to test the waters, as it were. In most cases, a ghoul or sometimes a Freak Kindred gathers information on the next city on the route.
If a city Kindred’s hostility toward the bloodline is apparent, the Carnival will move on or entirely bypass the spot. When the Prince shows a bit less antagonism, the Carnival usually offers some kind of favor or kickback in addition to a guarantee that the Carnival will not be a drain on the local Herd and will abide by any Traditions or decrees the Prince wishes to make known, which often include limits on how long the Carnival can stay, where its members may go and so on. Once given permission to set up shop, the Carnival will locate the best place to do so and send out a few of its Retainers to gather a crowd.
It is never the Carnival’s intention to broadcast its presence openly and have long lines of curious kine waiting to see the Freaks. Rather, they target very specifi c groups that are likely to keep the existence of the Carnival secret. Typical marks are shut-ins, jaded subcultures, the ill and others who seek some kind of deviant charge to put a spark back into their lives. The Carnival also courts certain criminals, the deranged, military veterans and other people who have seen atrocity fi rsthand and have gained a taste for such things. The enticements used to lure these unwitting victims to their doom vary. The ballyhoo can include spirited argument and persuasion, promises of monetary gain, an offer of narcotics or nearly any type of appeal suited to the particular mark being played.
The Show itself typically entertains a group of five or more kine per performance, with as many as a dozen being the practical outer limit. During The Show, the Freak will identify one or more rubes who would most satisfy her inhuman cravings and will use some sign to indicate that individual’s identity to her assistants. As The Show progresses and the audience is unable to tear its eyes away from the Freak, these assistants will rifl e through the pockets, purses and backpacks of the gawking fools, taking anything of value. The assistants will also remove those kine the Freak has pointed out, using whatever force is necessary, and take the prey to a separate area, where they are secured for the blowoff.
When The Show is over, the remaining audience is shown the exit and returned to the streets to carry on as before, though likely now haunted by nightmarish visions that they will never forget. The blowoff comes when the Freak descends, in all her grotesque hunger, upon the immobilized marks set aside for her bloodthirsty purposes. Sometimes, if the Freak does not require a great deal of Vitae and if she has enough kine for the blowoff, some or all of these unfortunates are left alive and released. However, just as often, their lives are forfeited, and they are given a Show that no mortal would ever wish to see.
Legends
Carnival Justice“Yeah, it’s true, I tell ya. I heard it from this holy-roller bitch who knew the bastard, spent time in Barcelona as a neonate or something. Yeah. Hey, shut up already, will ya? You want to hear the story, don’t cha? Okay, then zip it and let me tell it.
“See, it happened sometime around 1800 or something, I think. Anyway, the date’s not what’s important. It was a long fuckin’ time ago, alright? The Prince of Madrid, or somewhere else near there — it was a Spanish city, I know that much — was minding his own fuckin’ business — you know, knocking heads, stomping on neonates, playing high-and-mighty — when he hears that the Carnival has just pulled into town. Of course, the first thing that he thinks is, ‘Oh shit, not a bunch of Freaks messin’ with my turf,’ of course. I mean, do ya blame him? So he decides to send his kid out to see if the rumor has legs and then come back and give him the lowdown.
“Well, junior’s never heard of these Freaks before, so he’s all juiced to track ’em down and see what the commotion is all about. He’s a self-important fuck just like his old man, buying into the whole vice-Princely power-trip thing, so he figures he’s gonna just waltz in and lay down the law on the circus mutants. Well, after a bit of screwin’ around — the kid couldn’t fi nd his ass if wasn’t attached — he finally finds someone who points him in the right direction, and he marches on out to meet the weirdoes.
“Sure enough, they turn out to be exactly what daddy told him they were, and he nearly pukes himself having to look at them. Well, any thought of playing lord and master go out the window as his stomach turns, and he runs back to pops and gives him the dirt on the Carnival. You know, he saw how fucked-up they were, all deformed and shit; most of ’em shouldn’t have survived birth like that, ya know?
“Fuck ’em. They should just be set on fire. At least no one would have to see that kinda shit anymore.
“Anyway, the Prince thinks about this, probably calls all his cronies together to waste more time, and finally announces to everybody that unless the Freaks formally request his permission to squat in his town, they’ll be destroyed. So, he sends his idiot son back to the carny camp to tell ’em how it is. The chief Freak, the fuckin’ ringleader himself, does a little dog-and-pony show for the Seneschal, saying how most of his coterie can’t make the journey to Elysium because of their condition and that kinda crap, which is bullshit if you ask me. The prick shoulda pushed it, but he wussed out and said it was cool if only the leader of the Freaks came back to court to speak for the whole motley crew.
“Well, to make a long story short, things didn’t go too fuckin’ well for the Freaks. The Prince decided that enough was enough, and he wasted the midget fucker on the spot. Betcha it was funny as shit to watch Tiny Tim beggin’ for mercy. The Prince then ordered the whole Carnival to be wiped out by any means necessary. Of course, the best method was fi re, so he passed on the order to a bunch of kine fuck-ups and told them to do the dirty deed just before the sun set the next evening, so they’d all die in their sleep.
“Thing is, the head Freak didn’t come to Elysium alone. Another Freak somehow fuckin’ squeezed his ass into court without anyone noticing a thing, and he saw the shit go down. He rushed back to his circus pals faster than possible and told them the whole story. So, instead of just leaving town immediately, the Freaks decided to do one last thing before they high-tailed it out of Madrid or wherever.
“A few of them went back to town, somehow broke into the Prince’s own goddamn Haven, and kidnapped him! No shit! And remember, it was still night, so it wasn’t like the Prince was a pushover or anything. These little monsters actually managed to take him out of his Haven and back to the Carnival without anyone being the wiser.
“Okay, I don’t know exactly what happened next. Only the Freaks know that. But here’s how it all shook out. The Carnival was gone by sunrise, and so the mooks sent to torch ’em out never found shit and figured it was just as well.
“But it didn’t take a genius to fi gure out that something bad had happened when the Prince was discovered missing. Now, here’s the kicker. Really, this is some fucked-up shit. About a year later, the same Carnival turns up in France or something doing its usual shit. But this time, they have a new attraction. In a cage is a new Freak, one with no arms and no legs and moves by wiggling its scaly body like a snake. And you know what? It was called the Vampire Worm of Old Spain, and guess what? It had the Prince’s face. No fuckin’ shit. Somehow, those Freaks turned the Prince into a Freak himself and now he was just another act in their little nightmare world.
“That, my compadre, is the plain fuckin’ truth.”
Secret Origins
A fragment of the journal of Hieronymous, Ordo Dracul philosopher:
Jul. 17, 1739
The Great Work has consumed me. I am depleted in mind and body, and I know no more how much further I can go with this effort. Already, my progress has moved not an inch further for over a year, and I fear that I am going in circles. I feel more and more the call of sleep, of a lassitude that will claim me for the ages and from which I might one night rise again, though my past work be forgotten. My student grows restless, eager for his master to triumph as in nights long past, but it seems not to be. If I do not dismiss him, he shall become more foe than aid, pitching his ambition against me and tempting my meaner instincts. This I must avoid at all costs. Although my knowledge of the Coils ordinarily places me beyond such urges, ennui gnaws at even that achievement nightly.
Jul. 18, 1739
It has happened: a discovery. I am renewed, and the Great Work can continue. The Man within me is once again awakened to possibilities that just a night ago remained unseen.
Subject Four (Gustav, I have come to call him, though I know it is a petty conceit), has changed. He has not been provided Vitae for six nights, and tonight I chose to give him the very first draught from the variant I had already forsaken as worthless on account of its impurities. Surely, its exposure to the crystalline dust that accumulated in the cabinet after the failed experiment of Jul. 7 should have rendered it so, yet tonight is proof that a new path has been opened. I must re-examine all my notes from before and tomorrow recreate that so-called failure.
Upon consuming only 19 drams of the variant, he convulsed in a way that I initially mistook as fatal, the result of a toxic concoction. I was done with him, so no matter. The convulsions continued for at least two minutes, however, followed not by death, but something else entirely. In utterly astounding fashion, he let out a loud gasp as his arms began to withdraw inside his torso. There was no attendant expansion of the chest or abdominal cavity, which should have been the case, no matter how outlandish the activity, but there was not. Rather, the limbs just seemed to melt into him as he screamed in pain (surely, it must hurt; I forgave him his noise). When the transformation was over, a change unlike any other I have ever witnessed, only his hands remained. These too were different: distended in asymmetrical fashion and apparently useless to the subject. A careful examination with saw and scalpel afterward revealed that the entire length of the arms that had previously existed, along with all muscle and skin, had entirely vanished. It was as if the subject had been born with this Deformity.
Aug. 3, 1639
So far, eleven entirely different results have occurred with fourteen subjects, all the result of the same batch of variant. Only the instances of the missing legs, the shrunken head and the skeleton-like emaciation have been repeated, in one case each.
Tomorrow, I shall endeavor to isolate the differentiator, focusing on the missing legs first. I imagine it is either related to ethnic background, diet prior to the Embrace or some mental desire or fear on the part of the subject. The latter will require the greatest attention, given its difficulty. There is much progress to be made if the nature and value of this transformation is to be better understood. What it might offer our kind I cannot yet estimate.
The Devil’s Menagerie
In the 1940s, in Oklahoma City, somewhere in the vicinity of the stockyards and left to its own devices by the Kindred powers that be, stood a Carnival like no other.
Led by a hideously deformed vampire who claimed to be the King of Freaks, the Carnival went far beyond the usual spectacle put on by the bloodline. Not only were there the usual assortment of Freaks — both living and unliving — and the assorted roustabouts and hangers-on typical in other Carnivals, but there were also other creatures that normally kept their presence a secret to humankind.
One of the featured acts was the Werewolf Boy, a young man who was said not, as would be expected, to merely suffer from an extreme case of hirsutism, but was an actual lycanthrope, a Lupine. The act consisted of the youth undergoing a complete transformation from man to werewolf before the startled audience, with his bloodcurdling howls carrying over the sounds of all the other acts and putting a fright into livestock miles away.
Another popular attraction was the Astounding Gabriel, Mentalist and Illusionist. Each evening, this placid gentleman would perform a series of increasingly incredible feats, including mind-reading, levitation and conjuration. The fi nale of his performance included the most unbelievable trick of all. The conjurer called for an assistant to bring a chest onto the stage. Then the conjurer turned his back to the audience and tossed a baseball into the air above their heads. Whoever was able to get his hands on the ball was permitted to name one object that resided in his home and was small enough to fi t inside the chest. After the object was described, Gabriel sat upon the chest and concentrated for a few moments. Then, to the delight of all, he would open the chest and, from it, retrieve an object fi tting the exact description given him. He would even permit the member of the audience who named the object to come on stage and examine the object to be sure it was his. Finally, the conjurer allowed the astonished participant to take the object with him, as it was, Gabriel noted with a knowing smile, “his anyway. I’m a magician, not a thief.”
The most disturbing oddities of all left their audiences with nightmares to last a lifetime. Such acts included bloody dismemberment, cannibalism and, in one instance, a live birth by a woman of enormous girth, with two very different, but each singularly blasphemous, children issuing from her loins. Audience members were hypnotized and openly eviscerated, if some reports are true, and the effects of numerous Kindred Disciplines were freely demonstrated for the sake of The Show.
The King of Freaks seemed a particularly wicked fellow, his gaze captivating all who looked upon his disfigured form, and his voice sounding as if it rose up from the throat of Old Scratch himself. Under the King of Freaks’ leadership, nothing was too profane, too impossible or too dangerous.
The Carnival disappeared from Oklahoma City sometime during the early 1950s. For a time, various rumors placed the King of the Freaks and his show in other cities, mostly west of the Mississippi. These rumors stopped entirely for the next 50 years, with most Kindred speculating that the Carnival met its just end. However, only last year, word was heard in Elysium that the Astounding Gabriel’s show was seen in Pittsburgh and whispers that a Freak claiming dominion over all his kind began to spread in New York. Perhaps the Devil’s Menagerie has been biding its time, honing its act for its next performance.
Common Dress code
Appearance: Physical deformities are the defining characteristic of the Carnival. What a Freak looked like prior to joining the bloodline is largely irrelevant after her Vitae has been fully transformed into that of her new family. It might be worth noting that a character is Caucasian, French, full-bearded, large-breasted, etc., but all this falls by the wayside when compared to the horrifying changes the Carnival’s blood wreaks upon the bone and sinew of its newest members. Exactly how the individual’s body will change is anyone’s guess. Each change is unique, and no factor seems to play a determinate role in the hideous transformation. The only certainty is that the Freak is severely deformed, with some Freaks being so altered that they become virtual invalids. It is easy to see just how hellish the Requiem of a Freak can be. More on what qualifies as an appropriate Deformity can be found in the discussion on the bloodline’s weakness, below.
Art & Architecture
Haven: A Freak’s Haven primarily falls into one of two categories: mobile or established. A number of Freaks are nomadic, spending only a brief time in a location before moving on. Therefore, many prefer a mobile Haven, one that allows the Carnival to pack up at a moment’s notice, should trouble rear its ugly head. Given the treatment most Carnivals receive among their fellow Kindred, mobile havens are almost a necessity. Depending on the size of the Carnival, the Freaks may use a station wagon, SUV, van, truck, RV or even bus as their four-wheeled sanctuary. In some cases, the Carnival may employ more than one vehicle; in these instances, the entire group hits the road in a caravan. In some parts of the world, actual wagons, drawn by steeds usually fortifi ed with the blood of their undead masters, are still employed for this purpose.
All conveyances share aspects in common. First, rarely does a Carnival have the funds for something new. Motor vehicles are usually at least a decade old and held together with as much spit as welds. At least one member of the Carnival often possesses the mechanical know-how to deal with the regular maintenance required to keep the vehicle moving. Not only are such rolling heaps of scrap metal inexpensive to obtain, they tend to offer substantial advantages over newer models. Older vehicles are usually heavier and sturdier. They offer far more protection from minor accidents and rough roads. Older vehicles also go unnoticed far more so than glittering new coupes just off the assembly line, affording the Carnivals the veil of the Masquerade.
Finally, although older vehicles do require frequent repairs, the work is relatively simple and requires only basic tools. De facto mechanics can fi nd parts in most junkyards on the cheap. Compare this to the downtime required to fi x a newer car, and an older car makes perfect sense. Almost universally, these vehicles sport blacked-out windows or at least some means to keep out the sun, as well as sturdy locks. More than one Carnival also uses menacing dogs to guard the caravan during daylight hours, which is usually not too much of an attention- getter given the Freaks’ preference for parking in out-of-the way spots, such as junkyards, abandoned industrial zones and similar places. (For more ideas on mobile havens and survival on the road, see the Vampire supplement Nomads.)
Despite the safety that mobility offers, some Freaks choose the protection of something more permanent. The greatest advantage to this is that the Carnival can establish an enduring sideshow, which in turn creates a reliable Herd for the Freaks to feed from without having to face the unknown night after night. The downside, of course, is that the Freaks have to fi nd some degree of acceptance among the city’s other Kindred, even if only on the surface.
Again, the Freaks’ reputation precedes them, and few Princes are willing to permit the Carnival to set up shop in their domains. Even if only a fraction of the heinous stories told about this bloodline are believed to be true, suffering the presence of the Freaks is out of the question for all but the most sympathetic, apathetic or scheming Kindred lords. However, given that most vampires who have clawed their way to the top of the Kindred social order probably qualify as the latter, some Princes have admitted the Carnival, albeit usually with special restrictions to ensure that such mercy does not come back to haunt them.
Urban havens are usually established in places that afford the Freaks both privacy and drama. For them, the Haven is not only where they hide away from the sun but also a stage to be used to lure curious kine into their grotesque company. Forsaken warehouses, factories, tenements and similar structures prove to be excellent havens. Inside, the Freaks do quite a bit of remodeling, even if it’s not apparent to visitors. Numerous hidden passages, escape routes and redoubts are created, along with areas where the foolhardy can gather to gaze upon the outlandish feats of the Carnival, unaware that they have walked into a trap.
Part boudoir, part salon, part theater, part bunker and part charnel house, a Freak’s Haven is her domain in the truest sense of the word, a place in which no one else, living or otherwise, can find comfort. Even welcomed guests have a hard time stomaching the disturbing blend of showmanship and nightmare evidenced not only in the demeanor of the host, but in the furnishings and decoration that pay homage more to Bosch’s infamous Garden of Earthly Delights than to Barnum’s big top.
All conveyances share aspects in common. First, rarely does a Carnival have the funds for something new. Motor vehicles are usually at least a decade old and held together with as much spit as welds. At least one member of the Carnival often possesses the mechanical know-how to deal with the regular maintenance required to keep the vehicle moving. Not only are such rolling heaps of scrap metal inexpensive to obtain, they tend to offer substantial advantages over newer models. Older vehicles are usually heavier and sturdier. They offer far more protection from minor accidents and rough roads. Older vehicles also go unnoticed far more so than glittering new coupes just off the assembly line, affording the Carnivals the veil of the Masquerade.
Finally, although older vehicles do require frequent repairs, the work is relatively simple and requires only basic tools. De facto mechanics can fi nd parts in most junkyards on the cheap. Compare this to the downtime required to fi x a newer car, and an older car makes perfect sense. Almost universally, these vehicles sport blacked-out windows or at least some means to keep out the sun, as well as sturdy locks. More than one Carnival also uses menacing dogs to guard the caravan during daylight hours, which is usually not too much of an attention- getter given the Freaks’ preference for parking in out-of-the way spots, such as junkyards, abandoned industrial zones and similar places. (For more ideas on mobile havens and survival on the road, see the Vampire supplement Nomads.)
Despite the safety that mobility offers, some Freaks choose the protection of something more permanent. The greatest advantage to this is that the Carnival can establish an enduring sideshow, which in turn creates a reliable Herd for the Freaks to feed from without having to face the unknown night after night. The downside, of course, is that the Freaks have to fi nd some degree of acceptance among the city’s other Kindred, even if only on the surface.
Again, the Freaks’ reputation precedes them, and few Princes are willing to permit the Carnival to set up shop in their domains. Even if only a fraction of the heinous stories told about this bloodline are believed to be true, suffering the presence of the Freaks is out of the question for all but the most sympathetic, apathetic or scheming Kindred lords. However, given that most vampires who have clawed their way to the top of the Kindred social order probably qualify as the latter, some Princes have admitted the Carnival, albeit usually with special restrictions to ensure that such mercy does not come back to haunt them.
Urban havens are usually established in places that afford the Freaks both privacy and drama. For them, the Haven is not only where they hide away from the sun but also a stage to be used to lure curious kine into their grotesque company. Forsaken warehouses, factories, tenements and similar structures prove to be excellent havens. Inside, the Freaks do quite a bit of remodeling, even if it’s not apparent to visitors. Numerous hidden passages, escape routes and redoubts are created, along with areas where the foolhardy can gather to gaze upon the outlandish feats of the Carnival, unaware that they have walked into a trap.
Part boudoir, part salon, part theater, part bunker and part charnel house, a Freak’s Haven is her domain in the truest sense of the word, a place in which no one else, living or otherwise, can find comfort. Even welcomed guests have a hard time stomaching the disturbing blend of showmanship and nightmare evidenced not only in the demeanor of the host, but in the furnishings and decoration that pay homage more to Bosch’s infamous Garden of Earthly Delights than to Barnum’s big top.
Major organizations
Covenant: Rarely is the Carnival welcome among the covenants. Even rarer is the Freak who wishes to belong to these often insular societies. Few Kindred have any desire to associate with beings who so blatantly embody the hidden horror that lurks within every vampire. The Freaks’ deformities are too painful a reminder of just how far the Kindred are from the mortals they once were. For the most part, the Freaks stand outside the covenants, forming their own exclusive Carnivals — essentially a bloodline and covenant in one. The Freaks don’t necessarily hold any particular antipathy toward one covenant or another, however. They reserve their spite only for those who actively move against them, either collectively or as individuals.
The Invictus rarely opens its doors to the Carnival, unless the First Estate wishes to employ the Freaks, offi cially or otherwise, usually as objects of entertainment intended to add a dash of grotesque fancifulness to Elysium. Freaks are too visibly distorted for the First Estate. They resemble everything the Kindred upper crust detests. On the other hand, those Freaks who do cozy up to these powdered wigs, even if in a servile manner, can learn a great deal. Most Kindred peacocks are unable to recognize the scheming intelligence behind the eyes of a vampire with no limbs, and fewer still would deign to consider such a vampire a potential threat.
Generally, the Carthians are not much different from their dynastic cousins. Some Carthians may give lip service to lofty ideals such as equality and inner worth, but these pretenders want no more to do with a band of deformed blood-drinkers than with a pack of Lupines. The Freak who does fi nd acceptance is still likely to face social stigmatism, making any political ascent a Herculean task, indeed.
The Kindred of The Lancea Sanctum view the Carnival in two distinctly opposing ways, depending on the personal doctrine of the believer. Some Sanctifi ed see the Freaks as creatures doubly Damned and, therefore, worthy of pity and charity. This is fine, for nothing is an easier score than taking advantage of the foolishly naive. Some Freaks have used this attitude to exploit the Sanctifi ed, even joining the covenant’s ranks for a time in order to reap the greatest benefit.
The danger lies in the covenant’s other view of the Carnival. Even the most doted-on charity case eventually meets with a Priest who is convinced that this bloodline is nothing more than a blasphemy that should be expunged from the world, the sooner the better. Worse, some Zealots are of the mind that the Freaks are touched by the Devil, their deformities proof that the Adversary has put his own mark upon them. These Sanctified make it a personal Crusade to cleanse the city of the Carnival, and, given the overall attitude of most vampires toward the bloodline, the Sanctified rarely find too much opposition to their witch-hunt.
The Circle of the Crone is perhaps the most open to these aberrations, though the Acolytes certainly do not go out of their way to extend the Freaks any invitations. Should a disaffected Freak wish to become an Acolyte, she will likely find a place made for her at some table. Still, few Freaks are drawn into the ranks of the Acolytes, especially since the bloodline’s physical form makes it diffi cult to properly participate in the covenant’s rituals. On the other hand, the covenant’s belief in learning from pain is occasionally appealing, given that most Freaks are in some degree of constant pain anyway.
The only covenant that gives the Carnival real pause is The Ordo Dracul. It is rumored that at least one Freak has been initiated into the Order’s ranks, but, for the most part, the only role the Dragons have reserved for the bloodline is that of curiosity. The Dragons’ interest in how Vitae can cause gross transformative changes in Kindred makes the Freaks more likely subjects of study rather than peers.
Organization: The Carnival is not just a bloodline but a full-fl edged society akin to The Invictus or The Carthian Movement. True, the Carnival is admittedly too small both in number and reach to claim to be a covenant, but, for all other intents and purposes, the Carnival functions as one. Its members share a number of customs and practices along with a body of lore unknown to outsiders. They have their own pecking order and their own brand of justice tailor-made for the Carnival. Most important, they stick together. Few, if any other, Kindred suffer as these misshapen creatures do, and that suffering binds them together in a way that even Blood cannot.
Each Carnival — the term refers to the bloodline as a whole as well as to an individual coterie — is led by a single Freak, who is responsible for ensuring that the entire group is safe from sunlight, discovery by mortals and Kindred harassment. In return for this leadership, this Freak receives a payment from each member of the Carnival who wishes to put on her own show. This Privilege, as it is called, usually consists of a Vitae tithe, ensuring that the Carnival’s leader can spend his time guaranteeing the safety of the Carnival, rather than looking for sustenance. Freaks who have spent at least a year or so with the Carnival usually enter into this agreement; those who have spent less time have to wait until they have a little more experience under their belt fi rst. The Carnival also attracts a few benighted Kindred unrelated to the bloodline proper who wish to join its twisted ranks, as well as a number of kine who handle all the sundry tasks necessary to the safety of the Carnival as well as the success of The Show.
The bloodline’s roots may be in Eastern Europe, but the Carnival’s greatest numbers are in North America. Here, the circus and, later, the carnival found their greatest popularity, and, here the Carnival continues to exploit this historical fact. Although few ordinary carnivals and sideshows remain in business tonight, the Carnival continues to serve the very powerful, albeit mostly unspoken, need of the kine to witness oddities, blasphemies and outright horrors of Humanity in what seems to be a safe environment. Whether as a traveling show that quietly advertises ahead of its arrival in order to drum up a crowd or as a semi-permanent spectacle that holds regular shows for a steady stream of the curious, the Carnival finds no lack of an audience and, thereby, no lack of a fresh supply of blood.
The Invictus rarely opens its doors to the Carnival, unless the First Estate wishes to employ the Freaks, offi cially or otherwise, usually as objects of entertainment intended to add a dash of grotesque fancifulness to Elysium. Freaks are too visibly distorted for the First Estate. They resemble everything the Kindred upper crust detests. On the other hand, those Freaks who do cozy up to these powdered wigs, even if in a servile manner, can learn a great deal. Most Kindred peacocks are unable to recognize the scheming intelligence behind the eyes of a vampire with no limbs, and fewer still would deign to consider such a vampire a potential threat.
Generally, the Carthians are not much different from their dynastic cousins. Some Carthians may give lip service to lofty ideals such as equality and inner worth, but these pretenders want no more to do with a band of deformed blood-drinkers than with a pack of Lupines. The Freak who does fi nd acceptance is still likely to face social stigmatism, making any political ascent a Herculean task, indeed.
The Kindred of The Lancea Sanctum view the Carnival in two distinctly opposing ways, depending on the personal doctrine of the believer. Some Sanctifi ed see the Freaks as creatures doubly Damned and, therefore, worthy of pity and charity. This is fine, for nothing is an easier score than taking advantage of the foolishly naive. Some Freaks have used this attitude to exploit the Sanctifi ed, even joining the covenant’s ranks for a time in order to reap the greatest benefit.
The danger lies in the covenant’s other view of the Carnival. Even the most doted-on charity case eventually meets with a Priest who is convinced that this bloodline is nothing more than a blasphemy that should be expunged from the world, the sooner the better. Worse, some Zealots are of the mind that the Freaks are touched by the Devil, their deformities proof that the Adversary has put his own mark upon them. These Sanctified make it a personal Crusade to cleanse the city of the Carnival, and, given the overall attitude of most vampires toward the bloodline, the Sanctified rarely find too much opposition to their witch-hunt.
The Circle of the Crone is perhaps the most open to these aberrations, though the Acolytes certainly do not go out of their way to extend the Freaks any invitations. Should a disaffected Freak wish to become an Acolyte, she will likely find a place made for her at some table. Still, few Freaks are drawn into the ranks of the Acolytes, especially since the bloodline’s physical form makes it diffi cult to properly participate in the covenant’s rituals. On the other hand, the covenant’s belief in learning from pain is occasionally appealing, given that most Freaks are in some degree of constant pain anyway.
The only covenant that gives the Carnival real pause is The Ordo Dracul. It is rumored that at least one Freak has been initiated into the Order’s ranks, but, for the most part, the only role the Dragons have reserved for the bloodline is that of curiosity. The Dragons’ interest in how Vitae can cause gross transformative changes in Kindred makes the Freaks more likely subjects of study rather than peers.
Organization: The Carnival is not just a bloodline but a full-fl edged society akin to The Invictus or The Carthian Movement. True, the Carnival is admittedly too small both in number and reach to claim to be a covenant, but, for all other intents and purposes, the Carnival functions as one. Its members share a number of customs and practices along with a body of lore unknown to outsiders. They have their own pecking order and their own brand of justice tailor-made for the Carnival. Most important, they stick together. Few, if any other, Kindred suffer as these misshapen creatures do, and that suffering binds them together in a way that even Blood cannot.
Each Carnival — the term refers to the bloodline as a whole as well as to an individual coterie — is led by a single Freak, who is responsible for ensuring that the entire group is safe from sunlight, discovery by mortals and Kindred harassment. In return for this leadership, this Freak receives a payment from each member of the Carnival who wishes to put on her own show. This Privilege, as it is called, usually consists of a Vitae tithe, ensuring that the Carnival’s leader can spend his time guaranteeing the safety of the Carnival, rather than looking for sustenance. Freaks who have spent at least a year or so with the Carnival usually enter into this agreement; those who have spent less time have to wait until they have a little more experience under their belt fi rst. The Carnival also attracts a few benighted Kindred unrelated to the bloodline proper who wish to join its twisted ranks, as well as a number of kine who handle all the sundry tasks necessary to the safety of the Carnival as well as the success of The Show.
The bloodline’s roots may be in Eastern Europe, but the Carnival’s greatest numbers are in North America. Here, the circus and, later, the carnival found their greatest popularity, and, here the Carnival continues to exploit this historical fact. Although few ordinary carnivals and sideshows remain in business tonight, the Carnival continues to serve the very powerful, albeit mostly unspoken, need of the kine to witness oddities, blasphemies and outright horrors of Humanity in what seems to be a safe environment. Whether as a traveling show that quietly advertises ahead of its arrival in order to drum up a crowd or as a semi-permanent spectacle that holds regular shows for a steady stream of the curious, the Carnival finds no lack of an audience and, thereby, no lack of a fresh supply of blood.
Nickname: Freaks
Character Creation: Aside from the matter of the precise nature of the Deformity the character suffers, a player should consider how the character compensates for that fl aw, even if indirectly. A Freak whose legs completely withdraw into his torso still needs a way to get around. This could mean a board with wheels, a carriage pushed by a Retainer or simply a much greater reliance upon his arms for propulsion, using them literally as replacements for his missing limbs.
For obvious reasons, Physical Attributes are tremendously valuable to the Carnival. Feeding is diffi cult enough without having to deal with such things as vestigial hands, malformed jaws, oversized and useless feet and so on. To overcome these affl ictions, the character should consider at least one Specialty that counterbalances his weakness. Athletics Skill Specialties are especially common among Freaks. For example, a “Lobster Boy” ancilla whose hands are too horribly deformed to be used for most ordinary tasks might specialize in Foot Dexterity, enabling him to use his toes in place of his fingers, while another Freak cursed with backward-jointed knees and condemned to travel on all fours might specialize in Scrambling or even Climbing.
Despite the emphasis on physical capability, few Freaks rely on might and agility alone to make it through the night. Mental and even Social Attributes can be the character’s real forte. Allowing others to fall prey to the false assumption that the bodily handicaps so evident are indicative of other personal shortcomings is a hallmark of this bloodline. Because few Kindred wish to spend enough time around the Carnival to learn the truth about the Freaks’ inherent strengths and weaknesses, Kindred are often easier to manipulate, usually to their detriment.
Freak characters don’t trust their bodies alone to reel in the dupes. Most Freaks have at least one trademark gimmick, stunt or talent they use to ply their audience to enhance The Show. Fortune-telling, driving nails into their head, sword-swallowing, magic acts: all are popular. Practically the only thing these bizarre vampires won’t do to enthrall an audience is play with fire.
Emphasis on Expression, Persuasion and Subterfuge is particularly appropriate for these characters — anything that aids them in putting on a show. Ultimately, a Freak character has to be playable, and that means he must be able to hunt, find safety from sunlight and not spend every moment fl eeing from hunters, whether Kindred or kine. A well thought-out combination of Attributes, Skills, Specialties and Merits, along with a bit of luck and camaraderie can see even the most sorely deformed to victory, even if it is only one night at a time.
Bloodline Disciplines: Celerity, Majesty, The Show, Vigor
Weakness: Not only does all Freaks suffer the standard weakness of all Daeva — their lusts and perversions grow particularly dire, given their frequent activities — but each Freak also suffers a unique curse of deformation that leaves the rest of the parent clan looking unblemished by comparison.
When a character joins the bloodline, the player must make a decision. The character’s body is warped in a manner that either is guaranteed to vex onlookers or imposes severe physical handicaps on the Freak. If the player chooses a freakish mien, the character acquires the Nosferatu clan weakness, per p. 111 of Vampire: The Requiem. If the player chooses a physical handicap, that character’s Speed is reduced to one-quarter of its standard value (round down) after any adjustments are made (as with Celerity, for example).
Storytellers should work with players to devise appearances that both serve the interests of the players and, at the same time, fi ttingly impair the characters to a degree justifi ed by the mechanics of the weaknesses. See the sidebar, “Typical Deformities,” for some suggested manifestations of bloodline weaknesses.
Note that a Freak cannot posses the Crippled or Deformity Flaws (p. 219 of the World of Darkness Rulebook). The character will certainly be deformed, but the player gains no benefi ts from it. per the rules for Flaws.
Concepts: The Alligator Lady, The Astonishing Merman, The Frog Man of Borneo, The Girl With No Face, The Human Skeleton, The Irish Leprechaun, The Missing Link, The Rubber-Skinned Woman, The Two-Headed Man, The Vampire Worm of Old Spain
Skin Afflictions: Scaly or rough skin of a reptilian or elephantine appearance; excessively loose skin.
Hirsutism/Baldness: Excessive hair or baldness.
Missing/Extra Limbs: Completely or partially lacking arms, legs, hands or feet, as well as possessing extra limbs, wholly or partially.
Deformed Limbs: Any variety of disfi gurement of the arms, legs, hands or feet, which can include altered shape, fusion or hyper-extended joints.
Deformed Torso: A trunk that can bend in any direction and is often forced into an unnatural position by default.
Emaciation/Obesity: Condition leaving the Freak almost impossibly slender or large.
Facial Deformation: Shrunken head, pinhead syndrome, extra ears, missing lower jaw or any other grotesque abnormality of the head.
Many other deformities exist and can be used, provided they are severe enough or are used to simply add more horror to the Freak.
The Carnival has its own special vocabulary that helps not only create a greater sense of community among its members, but also helps them conceal their activities from Kindred and kine. A complete lexicon is impossible to provide here, but a few of the most frequently used terms and those that differ in meaning from their ordinary carnival usage are given here.
Ballyhoo: The words or actions used to lure Kindred or kine to The Show.
Blowoff: The last part of The Show, when the Freak satisfi es his hunger by drinking the blood of his victims.
Hole: An individual Freak’s performance space.
Mark: A mortal targeted to become victim to The Show.
Mooch: A mark who is particularly easy to victimize.
Nut: The expenses required for the regular upkeep and defense of the Carnival.
Privilege: A payment, usually in Vitae, paid to the Carnival’s boss for permission to put on a Show.
Office: The boss’s personal Haven, whether a room, a wagon, an RV or something else.
Straight Up: Honest.
Tip: The audience for any given Show.
Additional words can be found on some of the extensive lists of special carnival terminology available on the Internet.
Kindred who seek to join the Carnival, whether they are already Freaks or would-be punks wishing to hit the road with the bloodline, are traditionally put through a cruel little game that tests the prospective member’s suitability even as it provides the Carnival no small measure of entertainment. There is no real way to win the game, but those who don’t perform well are usually going to find that their request for membership is turned down.
The prospective Freak is nonchalantly approached by a trouper and given a task that sounds challenging, but certainly not beyond the prospect’s abilities. Similar to the notorious snipe hunt, the task involves procuring some object, contacting some individual or traveling to some place that doesn’t exist. The prospect also learns that successful completion of the task is of critical importance to Management, and ultimately to the Carnival as a whole, even if that is not apparent.
The prospective Freak or punk then goes to work, and the Carnival sits back and enjoys the charade, a thing of special beauty because none of them know how the game will play out. Often, if the task requires travel, they use some means to keep tabs on their little rube. Sometimes, they just wait for him to report on his progress and find in his updates all the comedy they had hoped for. Only on the rarest of occasions will the Carnival interfere if the prospect finds himself in real trouble, and usually then only if that trouble can find its way back to the Carnival. This game continues until the Carnival is ready to move on to the next town or until the test no longer provides enough entertainment to the troops.
If the prospect outright refuses because the test sounds too diffi cult, any chance he had to join the Carnival is gone. However, if he refuses because he has seen through the ruse, his application for membership is greatly enhanced.
Sometimes, outsiders endure variants of the game for the purpose of simply getting them off the Carnival’s back. Nosy Sheriffs, curious Dragons and others can bring dangers no Freak wishes and so they will be met by the Man, who will lead them on their own wild goose chase, giving the Carnival time to either cover up its activities or pack up and scram.
Parent ethnicities
For obvious reasons, Physical Attributes are tremendously valuable to the Carnival. Feeding is diffi cult enough without having to deal with such things as vestigial hands, malformed jaws, oversized and useless feet and so on. To overcome these affl ictions, the character should consider at least one Specialty that counterbalances his weakness. Athletics Skill Specialties are especially common among Freaks. For example, a “Lobster Boy” ancilla whose hands are too horribly deformed to be used for most ordinary tasks might specialize in Foot Dexterity, enabling him to use his toes in place of his fingers, while another Freak cursed with backward-jointed knees and condemned to travel on all fours might specialize in Scrambling or even Climbing.
Despite the emphasis on physical capability, few Freaks rely on might and agility alone to make it through the night. Mental and even Social Attributes can be the character’s real forte. Allowing others to fall prey to the false assumption that the bodily handicaps so evident are indicative of other personal shortcomings is a hallmark of this bloodline. Because few Kindred wish to spend enough time around the Carnival to learn the truth about the Freaks’ inherent strengths and weaknesses, Kindred are often easier to manipulate, usually to their detriment.
Freak characters don’t trust their bodies alone to reel in the dupes. Most Freaks have at least one trademark gimmick, stunt or talent they use to ply their audience to enhance The Show. Fortune-telling, driving nails into their head, sword-swallowing, magic acts: all are popular. Practically the only thing these bizarre vampires won’t do to enthrall an audience is play with fire.
Emphasis on Expression, Persuasion and Subterfuge is particularly appropriate for these characters — anything that aids them in putting on a show. Ultimately, a Freak character has to be playable, and that means he must be able to hunt, find safety from sunlight and not spend every moment fl eeing from hunters, whether Kindred or kine. A well thought-out combination of Attributes, Skills, Specialties and Merits, along with a bit of luck and camaraderie can see even the most sorely deformed to victory, even if it is only one night at a time.
Bloodline Disciplines: Celerity, Majesty, The Show, Vigor
Weakness: Not only does all Freaks suffer the standard weakness of all Daeva — their lusts and perversions grow particularly dire, given their frequent activities — but each Freak also suffers a unique curse of deformation that leaves the rest of the parent clan looking unblemished by comparison.
When a character joins the bloodline, the player must make a decision. The character’s body is warped in a manner that either is guaranteed to vex onlookers or imposes severe physical handicaps on the Freak. If the player chooses a freakish mien, the character acquires the Nosferatu clan weakness, per p. 111 of Vampire: The Requiem. If the player chooses a physical handicap, that character’s Speed is reduced to one-quarter of its standard value (round down) after any adjustments are made (as with Celerity, for example).
Storytellers should work with players to devise appearances that both serve the interests of the players and, at the same time, fi ttingly impair the characters to a degree justifi ed by the mechanics of the weaknesses. See the sidebar, “Typical Deformities,” for some suggested manifestations of bloodline weaknesses.
Note that a Freak cannot posses the Crippled or Deformity Flaws (p. 219 of the World of Darkness Rulebook). The character will certainly be deformed, but the player gains no benefi ts from it. per the rules for Flaws.
Concepts: The Alligator Lady, The Astonishing Merman, The Frog Man of Borneo, The Girl With No Face, The Human Skeleton, The Irish Leprechaun, The Missing Link, The Rubber-Skinned Woman, The Two-Headed Man, The Vampire Worm of Old Spain
Sample Deformities
Skin Afflictions: Scaly or rough skin of a reptilian or elephantine appearance; excessively loose skin.Hirsutism/Baldness: Excessive hair or baldness.
Missing/Extra Limbs: Completely or partially lacking arms, legs, hands or feet, as well as possessing extra limbs, wholly or partially.
Deformed Limbs: Any variety of disfi gurement of the arms, legs, hands or feet, which can include altered shape, fusion or hyper-extended joints.
Deformed Torso: A trunk that can bend in any direction and is often forced into an unnatural position by default.
Emaciation/Obesity: Condition leaving the Freak almost impossibly slender or large.
Facial Deformation: Shrunken head, pinhead syndrome, extra ears, missing lower jaw or any other grotesque abnormality of the head.
Many other deformities exist and can be used, provided they are severe enough or are used to simply add more horror to the Freak.
Carnival Lingo
The Carnival has its own special vocabulary that helps not only create a greater sense of community among its members, but also helps them conceal their activities from Kindred and kine. A complete lexicon is impossible to provide here, but a few of the most frequently used terms and those that differ in meaning from their ordinary carnival usage are given here.Ballyhoo: The words or actions used to lure Kindred or kine to The Show.
Blowoff: The last part of The Show, when the Freak satisfi es his hunger by drinking the blood of his victims.
Hole: An individual Freak’s performance space.
Mark: A mortal targeted to become victim to The Show.
Mooch: A mark who is particularly easy to victimize.
Nut: The expenses required for the regular upkeep and defense of the Carnival.
Privilege: A payment, usually in Vitae, paid to the Carnival’s boss for permission to put on a Show.
Office: The boss’s personal Haven, whether a room, a wagon, an RV or something else.
Straight Up: Honest.
Tip: The audience for any given Show.
Additional words can be found on some of the extensive lists of special carnival terminology available on the Internet.
The Key to the Midway
Kindred who seek to join the Carnival, whether they are already Freaks or would-be punks wishing to hit the road with the bloodline, are traditionally put through a cruel little game that tests the prospective member’s suitability even as it provides the Carnival no small measure of entertainment. There is no real way to win the game, but those who don’t perform well are usually going to find that their request for membership is turned down.The prospective Freak is nonchalantly approached by a trouper and given a task that sounds challenging, but certainly not beyond the prospect’s abilities. Similar to the notorious snipe hunt, the task involves procuring some object, contacting some individual or traveling to some place that doesn’t exist. The prospect also learns that successful completion of the task is of critical importance to Management, and ultimately to the Carnival as a whole, even if that is not apparent.
The prospective Freak or punk then goes to work, and the Carnival sits back and enjoys the charade, a thing of special beauty because none of them know how the game will play out. Often, if the task requires travel, they use some means to keep tabs on their little rube. Sometimes, they just wait for him to report on his progress and find in his updates all the comedy they had hoped for. Only on the rarest of occasions will the Carnival interfere if the prospect finds himself in real trouble, and usually then only if that trouble can find its way back to the Carnival. This game continues until the Carnival is ready to move on to the next town or until the test no longer provides enough entertainment to the troops.
If the prospect outright refuses because the test sounds too diffi cult, any chance he had to join the Carnival is gone. However, if he refuses because he has seen through the ruse, his application for membership is greatly enhanced.
Sometimes, outsiders endure variants of the game for the purpose of simply getting them off the Carnival’s back. Nosy Sheriffs, curious Dragons and others can bring dangers no Freak wishes and so they will be met by the Man, who will lead them on their own wild goose chase, giving the Carnival time to either cover up its activities or pack up and scram.