The Carthian Movement - A History
The Carthian Movement may be one of the most recent advents of vampire society, but the story of the Movement’s ascendance is a wildly eventful one — so much so that even its history makes the stolid elders of other covenants uncomfortable. Within the Movement, however, Kindred take great pride in its rapid strides and even its frequent setbacks.
Existing as they did in a largely politically static world, there was little reason to engage in any such dispute. Mortal attempts to develop systems independent of feudal hierarchy were generally limited to intellectual exercise, little more than banter between elites. The serious attempts of the Greek and Roman civilizations to develop progressive systems of rule collapsed quickly (in Kindred terms) into imperial monarchy, aligning comfortably with the prevailing views of the vampire population. Nobody questioned the form or function of Kindred government because nobody had any reason to believe it could be improved. Even as mortal society moved into the Renaissance and edged toward the Enlightenment, most vampires were so slow to make an effort to understand or accept the innovations of mortal society that humanist and neoclassical ideals failed to find reflection in the Kindred world. The governmental innovation of mortals was considered by most to be little more than the product of a peculiar fashion for harmless intellectualization, as sure to pass as the seasons.
Not all vampires were so certain. Slowly, here and there, individual Kindred began to observe the changes in the mortal world with interest. The emergence of modern scientific reasoning and the growing trends of exploration produced fascinating results. To those who bothered to pay attention, the changes occurring in mortal society were clearly far too wide-ranging to be ignored, and were likely to have a powerful lasting impact on both the living and the undead world.
In the early 18th century, avidly following the disruption of the English monarchy by the Parliamentarian civil wars and taking great inspiration from the development of “Natural Philosophy” in the works of Newton, Boyle and others, a Hungarian Invictus Mekhet elder by the name of Kerza performed what is now widely accepted as the seminal act of Carthian politics. Incensed by the state of “stagnant upheaval” in his home domain of Eger, which had seen six Princes replace one another in rapid wars of bloody succession, Kerza stood forth in Elysium, proposing an end to the battles. He suggested that a council of Kindred could lead the domain better than their power-hungry solitary elders, rendering the position of Prince obsolete and the bloody ambition of their “clearly incompetent” predecessors irrelevant. For 12 nights, under Kerza’s protection, a council of ancillae presided in Eger. While some argued that Kerza had simply seized praxis in the domain and named his Primogen a “ruling council,” others believed that he was truly attempting something new, pointing out that Kerza himself made no governing decisions except to enforce the law of his ancillae.
Regardless, Kerza and his inexperienced council were destroyed by a competing elder before Kerza’s style of government could prove itself. The domain was restored to the traditional rule of The Lancea Sanctum and the 12-night revolt was officially disregarded as an “unaligned uprising.”
As the years passed, the turmoil of the mortal world became steadily more pronounced. Elysium gatherings of Kindred reverberated with discussions of the dangerous and fascinating ideas cropping up all over the world. The buccaneer democracies of the Caribbean were a fashionable topic for some time, as was Pontiac’s rebellion in North America, for example. Cosmopolitan domains buzzed with debate over the future of the human race, and the effects of modern ideals upon the Kindred — most notably, those neonates who were Embraced from the currently available stock. The advent of the American and French Revolutions further polarized the participants in these arguments, bringing about serious schisms in previously peaceful domains. Suddenly, as the Kindred watched, traditional systems of rule and the role of the Church were called into question in the mortal world. Some revolutions failed, others succeeded. Entire mortal populations accepted the innovations brought on by the Age of Reason, making it impossible to Embrace in some domains without bringing their ideals into the halls of Kindred power.
Small factions began to arise within the traditional covenants of many domains, encouraging the consideration of new mortal principles and practices. Most of these factions were founded with an eye toward reversing the outrageous disruptions of the Status quo in the mortal world and rarely entertained the notion that the mortals’ tumult could reflect beneficially on vampire society. To do so, in fact, was to tread uncomfortably close to treason or blasphemy, and very few were willing to do so in open dialog.
The members went their separate ways. One is said to have made her way to Belgium, while the other fled to the East. Of the latter, little is known tonight — whether he met his Final Death on the road, succumbed to the long sleep of Torpor or simply abandoned his ideals. But the former, a charismatic Ventrue by the name of Francisca de Graaf, found many Allies in her new domain, and many eager listeners.
Under her tutelage, a number of neonate vampires assembled regularly at a small coffeehouse to discuss the faults and failings of the old ways and propose new ideals. At first exclusively Invictus, they were encouraged to widen their perspectives by befriending the neonates of other covenants and inviting them to the gatherings. Soon enough, a cross-section of the domain’s young Kindred was attending de Graaf’s meetings, engaging in lively debates over ethics, politics and social philosophy and becoming altogether enthused by the notions they exposed themselves to. Despite the misgivings of certain elders, the assemblies were tolerated as “idle entertainments” and largely ignored.
Inspired by these coffeehouse meetings, several young vampires wrote the first manifestos of what they termed the “Carthian Movement,” an appellation derived from a translation of de Graaf’s heavily accented “Kerzian” lectures. Their declared intent: To discover new ways of unlife for the Kindred at large. To find direction in the bold and brilliant innovations of the mortal thinkers of the day. To rework the old ways in an effort to make a better world for all.
Many of the “coffeehouse Carthians” eventually found their efforts curbed by the growing disapproval of their elders. Some neonates abandoned the cause, choosing to “mature” into traditional roles, while others only strengthened in their resolve, opting to travel and find purchase in a new domain. Taking their revolutionary manuscripts and arguments with them, de Graaf’s students found homes in England, France, America and Italy. Thence, their teachings spread east and west, but no significant political gains were made. At best, these Carthians were considered interesting partners for debate, worthy entertainment and sharpeners of wit. At worst, they were seen as nothing but nuisances, young vampires with impossible aspirations, annoying and distracting the Kindred with hollow talk.
But their words did find purchase, and not just in the ears of neonates. In New York, a Daeva elder of The Lancea Sanctum publicly abandoned his parish in favor of the tenets of Carthian exploration. By 1876, he had a following of 15 Kindred, a significant portion of the population, all willing to join in his cause. In Santo Domingo, a Gangrel elder declared his intent to reshape the domain as a Pure Democracy as inspired by the writings of The Carthian Movement. In Newcastle, two respected members of The Circle of the Crone denounced their covenant, espousing the ideals of republicanism and declaring themselves Carthian Scientists.
The sudden appearance of Carthian ideals among the formerly loyal members of established covenants led many Princes to level accusations of insurrection against their own people, often sparking violent purges. Some Princes managed to eliminate true devotees of the cause. Usually, the Princs lashed out at anyone they already disliked, equating personal disapproval with political rebellion. While the socalled enemies of tradition were destroyed, the fledgling Carthians, bearing witness to the unreasonably violent reactions of the covenants, became further convinced that the old ways were without merit.
More texts were written. More plans and proposals were exchanged. Too late, the traditional covenants realized that they were facing a legitimate Kindred movement, one with ideals that were often in radical opposition to their own. Attempts at suppression met with occasional success, but every quashed dissenter seemed to inspire three new voices. The “idle entertainments” of the Carthian thinkers rapidly drew to a close as they faced harsher and harsher attempts to purge their troublesome ideas. Pushed into conflict in several domains, many were forced to stand behind their statements and fight for their principles in rapidly escalating battles, attracting Allies who deemed their opponents too oppressive by far. Toward the end of the 19th century, many members of The Carthian Movement, bolstered by their surprising increase in numbers, set out in earnest to push back.
That the majority of these Carthian groups were nothing alike didn’t seem to matter. They rarely approached the problems of Kindred government the same way, and their means, methods and motives were often completely incompatible. What mattered was that they all had common goals: to step outside their commonly accepted roles and find new ways to dwell as vampires in the modern world. Socialist vampires in Paris took up the Carthian banner in 1905, operating as a peaceful community at the periphery of the Kindred culture there. Francisca de Graaf herself is said to have participated in the Paris Movement, siring two childer before entering voluntary Torpor.
Marxist Kindred in Moscow, inspired by the same texts that drove the mortals, launched violent attacks upon the royalist Invictus of the domain just six weeks after the beginning of the mortals’ Bolshevik Revolution. These Carthians, following their living Allies’ lead all the way to the institution of a Carthian communist dictatorship, ruled for nearly 60 years, collapsing 14 years before the Soviet Union’s dissolution.
A Mekhet claiming to be Kerza’s grandchilde founded a democratic Carthian Movement in London, attracting significant support before exposure as a fraud. Contrary to Expectations, the Mekhet’s humiliation and expulsion failed to discourage the Carthian presence in the domain, and their Elysium protests continued in earnest, taking their inspiration from the well-reasoned initiatives of the impostor, not his false Fame.
In sudden uprisings or slow-burning progress, heralded by applause or bloodshed, the advancement of The Carthian Movement continued in domain after domain. Reversals were frequent, but rarely devastating. Repression only swelled the ranks of the Movement. Recognition was inevitable. In 1922, The Invictus Prince of San Francisco declared The Carthian Movement a dutifully recognized covenant within the purview of his domain and chose a representative from their ranks to sit on his Primogen Council. Against the protests of his advisors, he legitimized their claim to territory within his borders, granting them tenurial domain and allowing them to practice their government in a small neighborhood as long they didn’t violate his own Traditions for the city. Soon after, many Princes offered similar deals and even Regencies to the Carthian Movements in their own domains. More often than not, the arrangements made were hastily drawn-up attempts to defuse the potential for violent rebellion that were transformed into long-lasting, peaceful agreements.
As the 19th century drew to a close, The Carthian Movement was so ubiquitous as to force near-universal recognition as a fifth Kindred covenant. The Carthians, identifiably organized in each domain that hosted them, could no longer be dismissed as disobedient members of existing groups, and could not be associated with the chaotic independents of The Unaligned.
News (and misrepresentations) of the Movement’s successes spread quickly through the unconventional communications of the covenant, lending fuel to the fire. Whether individual members could believe what they heard about the Carthians of farflung domains didn’t seem to matter, so long as the news supported their hope. Seemingly everywhere, Kindred were inspired to alarmingly spontaneous declarations of allegiance to the Carthian cause, choosing the terms and means of their announcements in suspiciously similar Language. Borne on a wave of propaganda and misdirection, the Movement swelled again, rising to prominence in many sizable domains. Amidst debate, dispute, martyrs’ cries and rebels’ violence, the Kindred of The Carthian Movement announced their modernist intentions to worried Princes around the world.
During the First World War, violent Carthian cells took advantage of the chaos in Europe to launch a series of attacks on their counterparts within more stolid covenants, hoping to carve out large territories for the Carthians’ future experiments. Some were successful, and many found that their intended targets had retreated into Torpor before they even had a chance to fight, withdrawing from both the shocking carnage of the war and the outrageous uprising of the Carthians in hopes that better nights would await them in the future.
The Montparnasse district of depopulated Paris in the 1920s saw Carthians share thoughts and dreams with some of the most brilliant artists of the modern world. Picasso, Modigliani, Sartre, Beckett, Duchamp — all befriended several Kindred without ever learning their true nature. Within years, the district was so overrun with Carthian Kindredthat it was officially designated tenurial domain in 1931. Those vampires who ruled Montparnasse were said to be among the most diplomatic and peaceful ever to dwell in France, and visiting their domain was something like entering an aesthetic and spiritual utopia, so long As One was willing to leave it unspoiled by one’s presence. Horrors may have ruled the night there as anywhere else, but they were horrors perfumed and cloaked in roses.
The advent of the Second World War brought further opportunity for The Carthian Movement, but did not produce as many successes as its most enthused members hoped. Those Kindred who had survived the first decades of the century flocked to the reassuring structures of The Invictus and The Lancea Sanctum, offering themselves up in exchange for assured safety and stability. Carthians who encouraged revolution in those dark nights were often accused of opportunism and rejected outright. Many were punished severely for their attempts, and much of the ground gained during the first half of the century was rapidly lost again, paving the way for a return to traditional rule for a great number of European domains. Only the Carthians of Japan made significant progress in the aftermath of the war, rooting their revolution in the demoralization and collapse of several prominent Princes.
The Movement in Europe took a new turn for a while, retreating to a less prominent position in many domains and characterizing itself as a “safe alternative” to membership in one of the more powerful covenants. Many Carthians began to play the role of conscientious objectors, learning from the emotional backlash that their impassioned attacks brought upon them in wartime.
Kathmandu, Nepal, played host to an astonishingly large conversion of Kindred to the Carthian cause in the 1950s following the near-complete dissolution of a Hindu offshoot of The Circle of the Crone under the strict law of the domain’s secular Invictus Prince. Although a secular Movement itself, the Carthian cause espoused a “social contract” philosophy that allowed for freedom of religion and freedom of assembly for all Kindred. Many of the persecuted Hindu vampires found safety within the tolerant ranks of The Carthian Movement. Near the end of the decade, the Carthians were declared anathema by the Prince for their refusal to abandon their religious members and fell victim to a fierce purge. None survived. An oft-quoted statement attributed to one of the last to fall is thus: “We took no power, and we held no ground. We welcomed our brothers and sisters to us, and we died in one another’s arms. But we were not conquered, for we never deserted our cause.”
The prosperity of the West in the decades immediately following the Second World War allowed for an atmosphere of experimentation and exploration to develop among the Kindred, encouraging the activities of the Carthians there. Individual freedom was a point of pride among the mortals of the region, and the rapid cultural and technological innovations that accompanied this freedom and exploration fostered the development of the Movement. For the first time in history, progress was paramount. The Carthians became convinced that their ascendance was inevitable. Attempts at dissuasion rarely took hold, and the Movement gained an attractive optimism that remains intact in many domains tonight.
Carthian Kindred of San Francisco gravitated to Haight-Ashbury in the 1960s, responding to the alluring promise of the hippie movement. There, the introduction of psychedelics to the feeding stock of the vampires led to a number of violations of Tradition and a series of harsh crackdowns by the domain Sheriff. The domain was eventually forcibly removed from the Carthians by the Prince, and those Carthians who remained splintered into acrimonious factions, some declaring the “freak power experiment” an ugly letdown while others stated that it was crushed by an “ailing Prince terrified of its successes.”
But with innovation came conflict, as new ideas clashed with established truths. The mortal world descended into a cold war, laying down battle lines around the world at the border of ideals: the Western image of democratic freedom and the communist dictatorships of Eurasia. Some Carthians, reversing the previous retreat of the Movement and turning with the prevailing developments of humankind, developed more violent and more overt strategies, employing tactics that violated many of the long-accepted precepts of the Kindred world. Nothing was sacred to the new Carthian breed, or so it seemed.
In 1973, a group of four Carthians split themselves off from the Hamburg covenant’s socialist majority, declaring that the group would take its inspiration from the activities of the Rote Armee Fraktion, also known as the Baader-Meinhof Group. No longer satisfied with peaceful debate and protest at Elysium, the coterie in question turned to terror tactics in hopes of provoking rapid change in the domain. Seven ancillae and two neonate Kindred (including the childe of the Prince, the sibling of one of the Primogen and two prominent members of the Lancea Sanctum) were murdered over the course of nine weeks. The demands of the terrorist Carthians were delivered to Elysium following each attack, calling for the deposing of the Prince, the establishment of a Socialist Carthian Government and the criminalization of the Church of Longinus. The identities of the Kindred responsible were soon discovered, and all four were executed. Shamed by association, the Socialist Carthians of Hamburg lost significant political ground in the aftermath.
Not all Carthian Kindred gave way to impatience and violence, though. As some gained a reputation for bloodthirsty conflict, others took it upon themselves to prove the intellectual rigor and peaceable legitimacy of their cause. The tactics of the Movement became more refined in some domains, presenting political and rational challenges to their opponents in ever-increasing variety and complexity. Even as the vampires in opposition to the Movement learned how to combat it, the Carthians would adapt, redrawing the rules of conflict and confusing their foes.
The Carthian vampires of Santo Domingo, having surrendered their domain to The Lancea Sanctum during the 1930s experienced a renewal of purpose and Vigor in the late 1970s, owing to their Gangrel founder’s return from Torpor. Weathering the violence of the occupying Sanctified Kindred, the Carthians mounted a peaceful campaign of protest, winning the support of sympathetic vampires in other covenants. Facing the widescale withdrawal of tribute, the outspoken disapproval of the majority of their subjects and the limits of their own Humanity, the vampires of The Lancea Sanctum stepped aside in 1979, allowing the Carthians to impose the democratic rule they long sought.
As the power of the Carthians fluctuated in these and other domains, many began to notice the peculiar supremacy of Carthian Law: the strange weakness that vampires seemed to experience when defying the dominant force of Carthian Kindred within their declared territories. Whether real or imagined, the phenomenon has been reported again and again in domains around the world, with greater and greater frequency. No Carthian claims to understand the effect they’re accused of causing (or taking advantageof), but many are beginning to believe that it ought to be investigated.
Kindred have given up the fight in the past. Domains have purged The Carthian Movement and utterly erased the Carthians’ influence. Those vampires who hear of these collapses debate their significance often, exchanging news and rumors, weighing the impact of their own histories and worrying over the future. The modern nights find the Carthians no less energized than they were during the last years of the 19th century, no less passionate and no less hopeful. Their fervent debates echo in the halls of Elysium now as before, and their manifestos are still produced and traded with startling frequency. Their ranks swell and diminish with unpredictable rhythm. This is not a covenant that can be judged a large-scale success or failure just yet, and may not be for quite some time.
But with such rapid advances and retreats, such frequent shifts and setbacks, the covenant in some domains seems to be risking exhaustion. As the innovations of human society are adopted, emulated, adapted and abandoned, an air of desperation can often make its way into the efforts of the Movement. Some are starting to ask whether the swift advances of the mortal world are so alien to vampire psychology as to provoke insanity when imitated. The Carthian analyses are folding in on themselves, no longer restricted to commentary on the structure of society, but now encouragingcommentary on the nature of Carthian analysis itself. New questions are arising: Can the Carthians find a viable alternative to the previously established styles of Kindred government? Is there anything new to learn from their attempts? Is it possible to create an enduring, structured philosophy while remaining open to the oft-shocking innovations of the mortal world?
The answers presented are as varied as the Carthians themselves. Every consideration is legitimate, they say, so long as it is supported by reasoned argument. There are no wrong answers, only undeveloped ones.
As postmodern deliberation impacts with the Movement’s scientific (and natural philosophic) roots, many of the Carthians in recent nights have experienced an undermining of purpose. In a world where intellectual debate over one’s reasons for revolution becomes as important (or valid) as revolution itself, the active expression of the Movement is threatened, in some domains, with drowning in the increasingly self-involved arguments of its members.
Carthians in many domains have adopted new criteria for self-evaluation in response to the new problems they are experiencing. Remaining true to the roots of the Movement and referring to their activities as “experiments,” they set up definite, time-sensitive, binary standards for their achievements, laying out statements of intent and logging results. These groups may seem stolid and unforgiving to their younger members, but the groups do tend to see themselves in clearer terms.
There are those who believe that the hard work of The Carthian Movement is complete. The foundations of experiment are laid; the covenant has, in many places, earned the right to explore and refine its goals, in some, even the right to rule. Many groups have agreed on a basic set of internal tenets, dictating the direction of the Movement and the standards of evolution the Movement applies to itself. All that remains is to function unhindered, growing and changing at a steady pace until the hopes of its members are achieved.
Others, though, presume that the Movement is only now entering its true (and potentially final) test of survival. Now, more than ever, they say, the experiment must be subject to unplanned alterations and the influx of radical new thought. Facing the danger of stagnation, the Carthians must hold true to their dedicated quest for innovation and persevering defiance of the calcified notions of vampire history. Now that the foundations are laid and the doors thrown open, the Carthians finally have the chance to prove themselves. The covenant will stand or fall on the persistent explorations of its members, new and old.
The Seeds of a Covenant
For centuries — arguably millennia — the political rule of Kindred was immutably feudal. No matter which of the covenants that arose in the wake of the collapse of the Camarilla controlled a civilized domain, the hierarchical system of top-down dictatorship and bottom-up tribute remained the same. The system was logical, time-tested and effectively entrenched. It functioned relatively smoothly, and while those in power often fought over who deserved to rule, there was rarely a significant dispute over how they should rule.Existing as they did in a largely politically static world, there was little reason to engage in any such dispute. Mortal attempts to develop systems independent of feudal hierarchy were generally limited to intellectual exercise, little more than banter between elites. The serious attempts of the Greek and Roman civilizations to develop progressive systems of rule collapsed quickly (in Kindred terms) into imperial monarchy, aligning comfortably with the prevailing views of the vampire population. Nobody questioned the form or function of Kindred government because nobody had any reason to believe it could be improved. Even as mortal society moved into the Renaissance and edged toward the Enlightenment, most vampires were so slow to make an effort to understand or accept the innovations of mortal society that humanist and neoclassical ideals failed to find reflection in the Kindred world. The governmental innovation of mortals was considered by most to be little more than the product of a peculiar fashion for harmless intellectualization, as sure to pass as the seasons.
Not all vampires were so certain. Slowly, here and there, individual Kindred began to observe the changes in the mortal world with interest. The emergence of modern scientific reasoning and the growing trends of exploration produced fascinating results. To those who bothered to pay attention, the changes occurring in mortal society were clearly far too wide-ranging to be ignored, and were likely to have a powerful lasting impact on both the living and the undead world.
In the early 18th century, avidly following the disruption of the English monarchy by the Parliamentarian civil wars and taking great inspiration from the development of “Natural Philosophy” in the works of Newton, Boyle and others, a Hungarian Invictus Mekhet elder by the name of Kerza performed what is now widely accepted as the seminal act of Carthian politics. Incensed by the state of “stagnant upheaval” in his home domain of Eger, which had seen six Princes replace one another in rapid wars of bloody succession, Kerza stood forth in Elysium, proposing an end to the battles. He suggested that a council of Kindred could lead the domain better than their power-hungry solitary elders, rendering the position of Prince obsolete and the bloody ambition of their “clearly incompetent” predecessors irrelevant. For 12 nights, under Kerza’s protection, a council of ancillae presided in Eger. While some argued that Kerza had simply seized praxis in the domain and named his Primogen a “ruling council,” others believed that he was truly attempting something new, pointing out that Kerza himself made no governing decisions except to enforce the law of his ancillae.
Regardless, Kerza and his inexperienced council were destroyed by a competing elder before Kerza’s style of government could prove itself. The domain was restored to the traditional rule of The Lancea Sanctum and the 12-night revolt was officially disregarded as an “unaligned uprising.”
As the years passed, the turmoil of the mortal world became steadily more pronounced. Elysium gatherings of Kindred reverberated with discussions of the dangerous and fascinating ideas cropping up all over the world. The buccaneer democracies of the Caribbean were a fashionable topic for some time, as was Pontiac’s rebellion in North America, for example. Cosmopolitan domains buzzed with debate over the future of the human race, and the effects of modern ideals upon the Kindred — most notably, those neonates who were Embraced from the currently available stock. The advent of the American and French Revolutions further polarized the participants in these arguments, bringing about serious schisms in previously peaceful domains. Suddenly, as the Kindred watched, traditional systems of rule and the role of the Church were called into question in the mortal world. Some revolutions failed, others succeeded. Entire mortal populations accepted the innovations brought on by the Age of Reason, making it impossible to Embrace in some domains without bringing their ideals into the halls of Kindred power.
Small factions began to arise within the traditional covenants of many domains, encouraging the consideration of new mortal principles and practices. Most of these factions were founded with an eye toward reversing the outrageous disruptions of the Status quo in the mortal world and rarely entertained the notion that the mortals’ tumult could reflect beneficially on vampire society. To do so, in fact, was to tread uncomfortably close to treason or blasphemy, and very few were willing to do so in open dialog.
Inspiration and Suppression
In 1805, the domain of Amsterdam collapsed. In a sudden and bloody coup, the Prince and all of his most ardent supporters were destroyed by a coterie of five Invictus ancillae calling themselves a “Kerzian Council”. Claiming blood relations to one of the members of Kerza’s ill-fated Eger Government, the insurgents declared themselves unwilling to abide by the accepted rule of Kindred tradition, instead laying out a system of republican rule based on the ideals of the anti-monarchist, antifeudalist literature that was popular among Dutch mortals at the time. Within six months, three members of the Council were assassinated by Invictus interests. The two remaining Councilors fled the domain, allowing The Invictus to seize control once again.The members went their separate ways. One is said to have made her way to Belgium, while the other fled to the East. Of the latter, little is known tonight — whether he met his Final Death on the road, succumbed to the long sleep of Torpor or simply abandoned his ideals. But the former, a charismatic Ventrue by the name of Francisca de Graaf, found many Allies in her new domain, and many eager listeners.
Under her tutelage, a number of neonate vampires assembled regularly at a small coffeehouse to discuss the faults and failings of the old ways and propose new ideals. At first exclusively Invictus, they were encouraged to widen their perspectives by befriending the neonates of other covenants and inviting them to the gatherings. Soon enough, a cross-section of the domain’s young Kindred was attending de Graaf’s meetings, engaging in lively debates over ethics, politics and social philosophy and becoming altogether enthused by the notions they exposed themselves to. Despite the misgivings of certain elders, the assemblies were tolerated as “idle entertainments” and largely ignored.
Inspired by these coffeehouse meetings, several young vampires wrote the first manifestos of what they termed the “Carthian Movement,” an appellation derived from a translation of de Graaf’s heavily accented “Kerzian” lectures. Their declared intent: To discover new ways of unlife for the Kindred at large. To find direction in the bold and brilliant innovations of the mortal thinkers of the day. To rework the old ways in an effort to make a better world for all.
Many of the “coffeehouse Carthians” eventually found their efforts curbed by the growing disapproval of their elders. Some neonates abandoned the cause, choosing to “mature” into traditional roles, while others only strengthened in their resolve, opting to travel and find purchase in a new domain. Taking their revolutionary manuscripts and arguments with them, de Graaf’s students found homes in England, France, America and Italy. Thence, their teachings spread east and west, but no significant political gains were made. At best, these Carthians were considered interesting partners for debate, worthy entertainment and sharpeners of wit. At worst, they were seen as nothing but nuisances, young vampires with impossible aspirations, annoying and distracting the Kindred with hollow talk.
But their words did find purchase, and not just in the ears of neonates. In New York, a Daeva elder of The Lancea Sanctum publicly abandoned his parish in favor of the tenets of Carthian exploration. By 1876, he had a following of 15 Kindred, a significant portion of the population, all willing to join in his cause. In Santo Domingo, a Gangrel elder declared his intent to reshape the domain as a Pure Democracy as inspired by the writings of The Carthian Movement. In Newcastle, two respected members of The Circle of the Crone denounced their covenant, espousing the ideals of republicanism and declaring themselves Carthian Scientists.
The sudden appearance of Carthian ideals among the formerly loyal members of established covenants led many Princes to level accusations of insurrection against their own people, often sparking violent purges. Some Princes managed to eliminate true devotees of the cause. Usually, the Princs lashed out at anyone they already disliked, equating personal disapproval with political rebellion. While the socalled enemies of tradition were destroyed, the fledgling Carthians, bearing witness to the unreasonably violent reactions of the covenants, became further convinced that the old ways were without merit.
More texts were written. More plans and proposals were exchanged. Too late, the traditional covenants realized that they were facing a legitimate Kindred movement, one with ideals that were often in radical opposition to their own. Attempts at suppression met with occasional success, but every quashed dissenter seemed to inspire three new voices. The “idle entertainments” of the Carthian thinkers rapidly drew to a close as they faced harsher and harsher attempts to purge their troublesome ideas. Pushed into conflict in several domains, many were forced to stand behind their statements and fight for their principles in rapidly escalating battles, attracting Allies who deemed their opponents too oppressive by far. Toward the end of the 19th century, many members of The Carthian Movement, bolstered by their surprising increase in numbers, set out in earnest to push back.
Development of the Experiment
As the early trials of Carthian ethos in New York, Santo Domingo and Newcastle developed into fullscale rebellion, small coteries around the world began to declare affiliation with the Movement with startling rapidity. Paris, Geneva, London, San Francisco, Philadelphia, Montreal, Prague, Moscow, Berlin: all witnessed a sharp rise in Carthian membership within the first 10 years of the 20th century. Some believe that the rapid global adoption of the terms and terminology of the Movement may be attributed to applied use of telegraph technology, an innovation abhorrent to traditional Kindred but happily implemented by less age-entrenched vampires.That the majority of these Carthian groups were nothing alike didn’t seem to matter. They rarely approached the problems of Kindred government the same way, and their means, methods and motives were often completely incompatible. What mattered was that they all had common goals: to step outside their commonly accepted roles and find new ways to dwell as vampires in the modern world. Socialist vampires in Paris took up the Carthian banner in 1905, operating as a peaceful community at the periphery of the Kindred culture there. Francisca de Graaf herself is said to have participated in the Paris Movement, siring two childer before entering voluntary Torpor.
Marxist Kindred in Moscow, inspired by the same texts that drove the mortals, launched violent attacks upon the royalist Invictus of the domain just six weeks after the beginning of the mortals’ Bolshevik Revolution. These Carthians, following their living Allies’ lead all the way to the institution of a Carthian communist dictatorship, ruled for nearly 60 years, collapsing 14 years before the Soviet Union’s dissolution.
A Mekhet claiming to be Kerza’s grandchilde founded a democratic Carthian Movement in London, attracting significant support before exposure as a fraud. Contrary to Expectations, the Mekhet’s humiliation and expulsion failed to discourage the Carthian presence in the domain, and their Elysium protests continued in earnest, taking their inspiration from the well-reasoned initiatives of the impostor, not his false Fame.
In sudden uprisings or slow-burning progress, heralded by applause or bloodshed, the advancement of The Carthian Movement continued in domain after domain. Reversals were frequent, but rarely devastating. Repression only swelled the ranks of the Movement. Recognition was inevitable. In 1922, The Invictus Prince of San Francisco declared The Carthian Movement a dutifully recognized covenant within the purview of his domain and chose a representative from their ranks to sit on his Primogen Council. Against the protests of his advisors, he legitimized their claim to territory within his borders, granting them tenurial domain and allowing them to practice their government in a small neighborhood as long they didn’t violate his own Traditions for the city. Soon after, many Princes offered similar deals and even Regencies to the Carthian Movements in their own domains. More often than not, the arrangements made were hastily drawn-up attempts to defuse the potential for violent rebellion that were transformed into long-lasting, peaceful agreements.
As the 19th century drew to a close, The Carthian Movement was so ubiquitous as to force near-universal recognition as a fifth Kindred covenant. The Carthians, identifiably organized in each domain that hosted them, could no longer be dismissed as disobedient members of existing groups, and could not be associated with the chaotic independents of The Unaligned.
News (and misrepresentations) of the Movement’s successes spread quickly through the unconventional communications of the covenant, lending fuel to the fire. Whether individual members could believe what they heard about the Carthians of farflung domains didn’t seem to matter, so long as the news supported their hope. Seemingly everywhere, Kindred were inspired to alarmingly spontaneous declarations of allegiance to the Carthian cause, choosing the terms and means of their announcements in suspiciously similar Language. Borne on a wave of propaganda and misdirection, the Movement swelled again, rising to prominence in many sizable domains. Amidst debate, dispute, martyrs’ cries and rebels’ violence, the Kindred of The Carthian Movement announced their modernist intentions to worried Princes around the world.
Milestones in the Movement
From the early years of the 20th century to the modern nights of the 21st, The Carthian Movement has seen more change, more successes and setbacks and more defining moments than each of the other Kindred covenants has experienced in hundreds of years. Every domain seems to have its own rollercoaster history for the Movement, and no two are anything alike. Following along with (and rolling themselves into) the great visionary developments of mortal society, strength seems to flow into the Carthians when new ideas are unleashed and new freedoms are explored.During the First World War, violent Carthian cells took advantage of the chaos in Europe to launch a series of attacks on their counterparts within more stolid covenants, hoping to carve out large territories for the Carthians’ future experiments. Some were successful, and many found that their intended targets had retreated into Torpor before they even had a chance to fight, withdrawing from both the shocking carnage of the war and the outrageous uprising of the Carthians in hopes that better nights would await them in the future.
The Montparnasse district of depopulated Paris in the 1920s saw Carthians share thoughts and dreams with some of the most brilliant artists of the modern world. Picasso, Modigliani, Sartre, Beckett, Duchamp — all befriended several Kindred without ever learning their true nature. Within years, the district was so overrun with Carthian Kindredthat it was officially designated tenurial domain in 1931. Those vampires who ruled Montparnasse were said to be among the most diplomatic and peaceful ever to dwell in France, and visiting their domain was something like entering an aesthetic and spiritual utopia, so long As One was willing to leave it unspoiled by one’s presence. Horrors may have ruled the night there as anywhere else, but they were horrors perfumed and cloaked in roses.
The advent of the Second World War brought further opportunity for The Carthian Movement, but did not produce as many successes as its most enthused members hoped. Those Kindred who had survived the first decades of the century flocked to the reassuring structures of The Invictus and The Lancea Sanctum, offering themselves up in exchange for assured safety and stability. Carthians who encouraged revolution in those dark nights were often accused of opportunism and rejected outright. Many were punished severely for their attempts, and much of the ground gained during the first half of the century was rapidly lost again, paving the way for a return to traditional rule for a great number of European domains. Only the Carthians of Japan made significant progress in the aftermath of the war, rooting their revolution in the demoralization and collapse of several prominent Princes.
The Movement in Europe took a new turn for a while, retreating to a less prominent position in many domains and characterizing itself as a “safe alternative” to membership in one of the more powerful covenants. Many Carthians began to play the role of conscientious objectors, learning from the emotional backlash that their impassioned attacks brought upon them in wartime.
Kathmandu, Nepal, played host to an astonishingly large conversion of Kindred to the Carthian cause in the 1950s following the near-complete dissolution of a Hindu offshoot of The Circle of the Crone under the strict law of the domain’s secular Invictus Prince. Although a secular Movement itself, the Carthian cause espoused a “social contract” philosophy that allowed for freedom of religion and freedom of assembly for all Kindred. Many of the persecuted Hindu vampires found safety within the tolerant ranks of The Carthian Movement. Near the end of the decade, the Carthians were declared anathema by the Prince for their refusal to abandon their religious members and fell victim to a fierce purge. None survived. An oft-quoted statement attributed to one of the last to fall is thus: “We took no power, and we held no ground. We welcomed our brothers and sisters to us, and we died in one another’s arms. But we were not conquered, for we never deserted our cause.”
The prosperity of the West in the decades immediately following the Second World War allowed for an atmosphere of experimentation and exploration to develop among the Kindred, encouraging the activities of the Carthians there. Individual freedom was a point of pride among the mortals of the region, and the rapid cultural and technological innovations that accompanied this freedom and exploration fostered the development of the Movement. For the first time in history, progress was paramount. The Carthians became convinced that their ascendance was inevitable. Attempts at dissuasion rarely took hold, and the Movement gained an attractive optimism that remains intact in many domains tonight.
Carthian Kindred of San Francisco gravitated to Haight-Ashbury in the 1960s, responding to the alluring promise of the hippie movement. There, the introduction of psychedelics to the feeding stock of the vampires led to a number of violations of Tradition and a series of harsh crackdowns by the domain Sheriff. The domain was eventually forcibly removed from the Carthians by the Prince, and those Carthians who remained splintered into acrimonious factions, some declaring the “freak power experiment” an ugly letdown while others stated that it was crushed by an “ailing Prince terrified of its successes.”
But with innovation came conflict, as new ideas clashed with established truths. The mortal world descended into a cold war, laying down battle lines around the world at the border of ideals: the Western image of democratic freedom and the communist dictatorships of Eurasia. Some Carthians, reversing the previous retreat of the Movement and turning with the prevailing developments of humankind, developed more violent and more overt strategies, employing tactics that violated many of the long-accepted precepts of the Kindred world. Nothing was sacred to the new Carthian breed, or so it seemed.
In 1973, a group of four Carthians split themselves off from the Hamburg covenant’s socialist majority, declaring that the group would take its inspiration from the activities of the Rote Armee Fraktion, also known as the Baader-Meinhof Group. No longer satisfied with peaceful debate and protest at Elysium, the coterie in question turned to terror tactics in hopes of provoking rapid change in the domain. Seven ancillae and two neonate Kindred (including the childe of the Prince, the sibling of one of the Primogen and two prominent members of the Lancea Sanctum) were murdered over the course of nine weeks. The demands of the terrorist Carthians were delivered to Elysium following each attack, calling for the deposing of the Prince, the establishment of a Socialist Carthian Government and the criminalization of the Church of Longinus. The identities of the Kindred responsible were soon discovered, and all four were executed. Shamed by association, the Socialist Carthians of Hamburg lost significant political ground in the aftermath.
Not all Carthian Kindred gave way to impatience and violence, though. As some gained a reputation for bloodthirsty conflict, others took it upon themselves to prove the intellectual rigor and peaceable legitimacy of their cause. The tactics of the Movement became more refined in some domains, presenting political and rational challenges to their opponents in ever-increasing variety and complexity. Even as the vampires in opposition to the Movement learned how to combat it, the Carthians would adapt, redrawing the rules of conflict and confusing their foes.
The Carthian vampires of Santo Domingo, having surrendered their domain to The Lancea Sanctum during the 1930s experienced a renewal of purpose and Vigor in the late 1970s, owing to their Gangrel founder’s return from Torpor. Weathering the violence of the occupying Sanctified Kindred, the Carthians mounted a peaceful campaign of protest, winning the support of sympathetic vampires in other covenants. Facing the widescale withdrawal of tribute, the outspoken disapproval of the majority of their subjects and the limits of their own Humanity, the vampires of The Lancea Sanctum stepped aside in 1979, allowing the Carthians to impose the democratic rule they long sought.
As the power of the Carthians fluctuated in these and other domains, many began to notice the peculiar supremacy of Carthian Law: the strange weakness that vampires seemed to experience when defying the dominant force of Carthian Kindred within their declared territories. Whether real or imagined, the phenomenon has been reported again and again in domains around the world, with greater and greater frequency. No Carthian claims to understand the effect they’re accused of causing (or taking advantageof), but many are beginning to believe that it ought to be investigated.
Modern Nights
There is one question that almost every Carthian vampire asks himself on a regular basis: is the covenant performing its intended function? The context may be personal, but the question is valid, and one that can be applied to the covenant as a whole. Is it doing what it’s supposed to do? What, exactly, is The Carthian Movement supposed to do? The history of the Movement is a short and turbulent one, notably rife with collapses and the destruction of its adherents, and remarkably light on successful conquest of domains. But everywhere you go, no matter how oppressive the circumstances, Carthians seem to think they’re succeeding. Most of the members of the San Francisco Movement are just as likely to be positive about their so-called achievements as the conquering heroes of Santo Domingo. The vampires of Montparnasse will happily declare their victory over tradition, but then so will the disgraced socialists of Hamburg. It seems that every Carthian attempt can be defined as some kind of success, but differences in philosophy will draw the line for any individual. Then again, differences in philosophy are what the covenant is all about. Every new idea, every new effort, no matter how valid, durable or attractive, is an addition to the Movement. There can never be an ultimate failure for the covenant, not so long as there are Kindred willing to take up the cause (a cause, any cause) and find a better way for themselves, organized around a structured, reasoned approach that explores options not available through the existing, opposing covenants.Kindred have given up the fight in the past. Domains have purged The Carthian Movement and utterly erased the Carthians’ influence. Those vampires who hear of these collapses debate their significance often, exchanging news and rumors, weighing the impact of their own histories and worrying over the future. The modern nights find the Carthians no less energized than they were during the last years of the 19th century, no less passionate and no less hopeful. Their fervent debates echo in the halls of Elysium now as before, and their manifestos are still produced and traded with startling frequency. Their ranks swell and diminish with unpredictable rhythm. This is not a covenant that can be judged a large-scale success or failure just yet, and may not be for quite some time.
But with such rapid advances and retreats, such frequent shifts and setbacks, the covenant in some domains seems to be risking exhaustion. As the innovations of human society are adopted, emulated, adapted and abandoned, an air of desperation can often make its way into the efforts of the Movement. Some are starting to ask whether the swift advances of the mortal world are so alien to vampire psychology as to provoke insanity when imitated. The Carthian analyses are folding in on themselves, no longer restricted to commentary on the structure of society, but now encouragingcommentary on the nature of Carthian analysis itself. New questions are arising: Can the Carthians find a viable alternative to the previously established styles of Kindred government? Is there anything new to learn from their attempts? Is it possible to create an enduring, structured philosophy while remaining open to the oft-shocking innovations of the mortal world?
The answers presented are as varied as the Carthians themselves. Every consideration is legitimate, they say, so long as it is supported by reasoned argument. There are no wrong answers, only undeveloped ones.
As postmodern deliberation impacts with the Movement’s scientific (and natural philosophic) roots, many of the Carthians in recent nights have experienced an undermining of purpose. In a world where intellectual debate over one’s reasons for revolution becomes as important (or valid) as revolution itself, the active expression of the Movement is threatened, in some domains, with drowning in the increasingly self-involved arguments of its members.
Carthians in many domains have adopted new criteria for self-evaluation in response to the new problems they are experiencing. Remaining true to the roots of the Movement and referring to their activities as “experiments,” they set up definite, time-sensitive, binary standards for their achievements, laying out statements of intent and logging results. These groups may seem stolid and unforgiving to their younger members, but the groups do tend to see themselves in clearer terms.
There are those who believe that the hard work of The Carthian Movement is complete. The foundations of experiment are laid; the covenant has, in many places, earned the right to explore and refine its goals, in some, even the right to rule. Many groups have agreed on a basic set of internal tenets, dictating the direction of the Movement and the standards of evolution the Movement applies to itself. All that remains is to function unhindered, growing and changing at a steady pace until the hopes of its members are achieved.
Others, though, presume that the Movement is only now entering its true (and potentially final) test of survival. Now, more than ever, they say, the experiment must be subject to unplanned alterations and the influx of radical new thought. Facing the danger of stagnation, the Carthians must hold true to their dedicated quest for innovation and persevering defiance of the calcified notions of vampire history. Now that the foundations are laid and the doors thrown open, the Carthians finally have the chance to prove themselves. The covenant will stand or fall on the persistent explorations of its members, new and old.
If it looks none too orderly today,
’Tis a confusion it was ours to start
So in it have to take courageous part.
— Robert Frost, “For John F. Kennedy His Inauguration”
Responding to the Critics
“Mister Van Tessel, our esteemed Priscus, agonizes to find terms with which to eliminate our deliberations from the realm of serious thought. He remarks that our meetings are collaborations of childish reversion, supposing that our commentaries are little more than the squalling of ill-informed neonates; that genius abandons us in favor of vulgar ambition. He believes we are no different from the unaligned, formless and purposeless except in complaint for lack of power. Lost in the wadding of his firm, centuries-old position, he imagines that motive alien to him is likewise unfamiliar to us all.“The idea that Kindred are incapable of considering change without seeking blindly to claim territory is delusive. A new system of thought is opening itself to our world, even as our governing bodies contrive to frustrate it. We are not merely creatures of natural instinct. We are not merely the ignorant youth, struggling to find the purchase of understanding that only our self-declared superiors can provide. No challenge has arisen in the history of our kind that bears the import of our questions. No mockery shall dissuade us from their contemplation. Ours is the voice of the modern world, provoking not the scorn our Mister Van Tessel responds with, but rather the fear that compels it in him. His is the childish tone, replying to discomfort with unreasoned outcry. If he is willing to temper his invective with a calm statement of demonstrable fact, we should be honored to set a place for him at our discussion tables. If he is not, then we cannot further entertain his ill-mannered outbursts; they are too indelicate.”
— Francisca de Graaf, in a statement read before the Amsterdam Elysium gathering of July 14, 1808
Responding to the Critics II
“Miss Charlotte, my respected sibling and honored compatriot, has seen fit to throw her lot in with the recidivist Sanctified Kindred of Santo Domingo, making clear her intent before us all. Consanguinuity demands that my voice should carry the Carthian response, both in her defense and in our own. Chief among her reasons, she accuses us of destructive caprice. We are cut adrift in the tyranny of the mob, she says, carried helplessly along by our whirling whim. My sister speaks not with derision, but with concern. I beg you to consider that her compassion provokes her ire. Furthermore, her statements are not without merit. We have found occasion to reverse our decisions. We have taken turns that, upon reflection, were unwise.“It is true that we are, as all Kindred are, foolish, wicked and weak. I will brook no denial of that fact, for I have seen two centuries of insanity pass, from Spain’s shores to this salty isle. It is what drove me from my home. It is what brought almost all of you here. Not a one of us is spared the curse ofthe Beast and its maddening temptations.
“If that is true, then one must realize it is impossible for any one of us to rule. We are all equally stupid, all equally insane. Why exalt one of us over the others? Why suffer to impose the whims of one upon a crowd composed of those no less qualified, no less capable? Unwilling to submit to the rule of a madman, unable to abandon ourselves to simple anarchy, we choose instead to rule by the will of our collective voices. It is the will of that crowd that rises to temper the impulses of its single members, to give strength to the choices that empower the majority and eliminate those that restrict it. If our way seems fickle, so be it — for it is by a great measure less senseless and less cruel than the way of any one Kindred alone. Let us, then, temper my sibling’s ire with our compassion. Let us show her that assembled in chorus, we eliminate the barbaric pride of our individual selves. Let us release her, free her to defy us as we defy her tyrannous church of the unanswered single voice.”
— from the defense of Charlotte of Gangrel, delivered by Adalberto of Gangrel to the assembled Kindred of Santo Domingo, October 22, 1899
Responding to the Critics III
“You know what they say? They say the mortals are stupid, that they don’t know what they’re doing! They say that this whole Carthian gig is nothing but a nostalgia trip, a way for us to pretend we’re still alive while we follow their dumb wanderings into the toilet! Bullshit! They’re sitting up here in the Elysium, sitting around in this goddamn tomb, and, I don’t know, it looks to me like they’re the ones pretending, man — they’re pretending to be dead! I don’t feel dead. Do you? They say that we’re forgetting what we are! You know what? I think they’re forgetting what they are. I think they’ve got their pig flunkies and their pig ghouls bringing home the goods for them and they have no idea how to even stand on their own two feet! You think they’d last 10 minutes in the places the Carthians go? You think they would have the first fuckin’ idea what to do in the middle of a real happening? I don’t.“Don’t let them rub that garbage in your face! Don’t let them talk down about mortal, and don’t let them talk down to you for loving them! They say we don’t got a system? We got a system — the system is the end of their system. The system is the beautiful community of love. The system is the new rule, man, and it’s coming up fast. The rule of the Commune is the new rule of vampire society! Equal rights for all, everybody works the field and everybody shares in the harvest! They can shout out their laws, they can get their pig Sheriff to beat us down when we go back to our rightful domain, but they can’t stop progress! We are the Carthian Commune of San Francisco and we can’t be stopped!”
— Leonard of Nosferatu, in an impromptu address before the Elysium gathering of May 2, 1968, San Francisco
Responding to the Critics IV
“Let me just repeat your statement before I respond, to make sure I’ve got it right. You’re saying that the Carthian Movement can’t possibly succeed, because we have no reliable definition of failure. Is that correct? I won’t acknowledge that our communist experiment was a failure, just because we abandoned it in favor of the new communitarian one.“All right. My answer to you is a two-parter. First, I want to point out that your statement is based on a faulty assumption. The Carthian Movement isn’t lacking in a reliable definition for failure. In fact, we have a very clear picture of failure, and we compare ourselves to it every night, and always have. Failure, to us, is surrender. We look around at Elysium, whenever you let us in, and we see that failure all around us. Neonates who accept the crushing rule of their elders, voluntarily silencing their doubts in exchange for creature comforts. Ancillae who abandon all hope of distinguishing themselves in a world of traditional kowtowing, accepting the same-aseveryone thoughtlessness of their predecessors without protest and imposing it upon the neonates without qualm. Elders who are frozen in place by their fear of Final Death, mechanically repeating the same thoughts, words and deeds for decades at a time, setting an enduring example of banality as success, allowing the Kindred to model themselves in kind.
“Second, I’d like to say that, in light of the first part of my response, it must be clear to you that success isn’t just possible for the Carthian Movement, it’s constant. We are succeeding every night. We are succeeding when we question your system, and we are succeeding when we question ourselves, because we are not surrendering our beliefs and our hopes to your tradition. We are succeeding when we fight over which way to go next, because we are building and rebuilding our Movement, strengthening it with each step. We are succeeding when you kill us, every last one of us, because we won’t adhere to your law, because we are inspiring those who will come to take up our courageous explorations. You’re wrong, sir, and my willingness to stand here and dispute your claim, despite your status and position, despite your age and your power, is just one more success for the Carthian Movement to add to our list.”
– Tess of Daeva, rising to the challenge of a member of the Ordo Dracul before the Elysium gathering of December 1, 2003, Toronto