The Circle of the Crone - The Spirit World

Vampire the Requiem - Covenant - Circle of the Crone
For many Acolytes, the spirit world represents a place of hidden power. Some believe the spirit world lies in an Other World — i.e., a place (as in Celtic myth) that lies quite literally away from this world, and where the gods and spirits reside. Many Acolytes accept instead that the spirit world is a place overlaid upon our own reality. In that view, tangible beings co-exist with the non-corporeal powers, be they gods, spirits, fey beings or ghosts. Few Acolytes dismiss the spirits and their realm outright. Below is an exploration of how the Acolytes might view spirits, and what that means for specific cults.

Perceptions

How an Acolyte views spirits helps define her worship. Are spirits weak and obsequious? Strong and dominant? Are spirits gods, or are gods just spirits? What follows are various explorations of spirits and the myriad perspectives available to Acolytes.

Animism Versus Pantheism

Many Acolytes assume an animistic worldview. Animism accepts that the world is alive with spirits. Most, if not all, things have souls: trees, chairs, clouds, dogs, anything. Some vampires accept a limited animism, where only certain things have souls — or, at least, only some souls are worth interest. These Acolytes might look to the celestial bodies and infuse them with personality and accept that the heavenly items are spirits watching down. Other Acolytes might limit their beliefs to things of nature: a tree has a soul, an airplane does not. Some within the covenant refuse to limit their animistic perceptions, thus accepting that all things in heaven and earth are mirrored by or filled with spirits. (The majority of cultists tend to fall somewhere in the middle — they accept that most natural things have spirits, as do items that have been infused with merit and meaning by owners. Lesser things are not worthy of notice. A video game, for instance, does not possess a spirit.)
A similar but separate perspective is a pantheistic worldview. In this outlook, all things possess one spirit. This spirit is universal. It may be identified as Mother Nature or the God of All Things, or may be more specific (“All things possess a splinter of Inanna’s soul”). This view doesn’t leave room for various spirits or souls. The world has one soul split into many parts. Few Acolytes accept a pantheistic paradigm, but it does happen.

Gods Big and Small

How does an Acolyte place herself in the Great Chain of Being? Above spirits, or below them? Some believe spirits are small, trifling creatures. In whatever cosmic hierarchy exists, spirits are therefore lesser beings. Acolytes might perceive them as unintelligent and ephemeral automatons, or may feel that spirits possess only baser emotions (vanity, cruelty, brutality). They are essentially “small gods” — the spirit of a chair or even a mountain may have some power, but pales in comparison to a true god, or even the vampire herself.
Not all cults feel that way. Many believe themselves subservient to spirits, or at least further down the totem pole. To these cults, spirits are more powerful and not to be played with. They are dangerous, nearly on par with gods, if not gods themselves. Drawing the attention of the spirits may be necessary to complete a ritual or receive their favor, but it can also be a terrible bane.
The spirits, in this mindset, act according to a tangle of byzantine and therefore unknowable laws. Entering into their game without understanding the rules is a way toward madness — though for some, it is a way toward power, as well. Stories persist of Acolytes kidnapped by spirits or possessed by them. When the Acolytes return to the natural world (or more importantly, if they return),they are often capable of bizarre new talents — and also end up hosting a handful of derangements inside their broken minds.
While it’s true that most Acolytes either believe in the old gods or end up “becoming” deities themselves, some Acolytes eschew the concept of gods altogether. The Acolytes who do tend to believe only in spirits. “God” becomes an irrelevant term, when “spirit” as a categorization suffices.
Those Acolytes who maintain this view tend to have reverence for all things, not just those that fit in the purview of a specific pantheon. These Acolytes make offers and sacrifices not to old gods but to everyday objects — to make a car move faster, the Acolyte might drizzle her Vitae upon the searing hot engine. She may speak to trees, asking for their respect. All things, from a blade of grass to a hurricane, have souls and must be treated properly to maintain balance. For these Acolytes, gods are meaningless.

Ask Versus Demand

The Circle of the Crone expressly accepts magic. Magic does not equate to parlor tricks or prestidigitation, but instead amounts to controlling the world and all that lies within it. To the Acolytes, all vampires should believe in magic (though many don’t call it that, and this galls most Acolytes). The question for cultists inside the covenant is, how does one truly practice magic?
The question is ultimately related, again, to where the Acolyte puts herself in relation to spirits. Some Acolytes believe that magic (be it Crúac or simple superstitious rituals such as Throwing salt over one’s shoulder) comes from controlling spirits. Rituals work because they force the spirits to act in accordance with the vampire’s wishes.The Acolyte demands, and the spirit acts.
The other view is that one must implore the spirits for their favor. Forcing the issue, or demanding from them, is a path to ruin. The spirits curse those who arrogantly think to command them. Ask, and ye shall receive. Acolytes who accept this notion tend to be gentler and more obsequious when dealing with spirits or gods. These Acolytes may leave out bowls of blood for fey entities. The Acolytes might also treat their beloved pets (animal or human) as well as they can, accepting that even lesser beings are lorded over by an invisible pantheon. Why risk upsetting the hidden spirits?

Totemism

Sometimes, a cult or coterie will identify itself with a particular animal or thing. This thing is symbolic; it is a totem with which the group identifies. Some accept that this is only symbolic. A cult that claims the coyote as its totem does so because its members are clever scavengers, hard to see and harder to catch. But the comparison ends there — the Acolytes do not literally believe themselves spiritually tied to the animal. It is an association in name and image, nothing more.
Some cults, however, take this to the next step and assume that their totems are literally spirits that have infused the Acolytes with their natures. The Acolytes above would believe that Coyote — i.e., the presiding spirit or the metaphysical ideal of the animal – has literally blessed them with his qualities. Most of their worship would go toward him, as a powerful spirit. They perform blood magic in his name. Unusual occurrences and coincidences are given greater meaning by assuming Coyote is responsible. The shamanic Acolytes begin to further exemplify the traits of their totem animal: wiliness, trickery, stealth.
Is this because they are truly given to a spirit animal? Most of the time, no. The cult certainly thinks so, and cult members can point to any amount of so-called evidence to prove it. (“A coyote ran out in front of the car on the highway, and up ahead was an ambush. We have been blessed yet again by our totem.”)
From time to time, however, a coterie or cult does possess a totem animal, though the reality is that the spirit possesses the cult members. This is rarely a symbiotic relationship. Vampires who give themselves to a totem spirit act as though under heavy Vinculum, bound to the invisible entity, addicted to its rare presence. Those under the totem’s sway seem confused, broken, often gaining at least one severe derangement. This relationship is not without benefit — the Acolytes gain unusualand unexpected abilities and can seemingly modify their physical forms in ways to mirror that of the totem spirit’s nature — but many would suggest that the reward doesnot match the cost.

The Possessed

The Acolytes have seen them: mortals wandering in the darkness, mumbling in tongues and holding arms outstretched and asking for worship. Sometimes they look like everybody else (though often filthy and disheveled). Other times they truly look — different. One’s mouth might be a nest of dog’s teeth. Another might have a third eye on the back of his neck or fingernails made of brittle shale. These are the possessed: people whose souls have been subsumed by primeval spirits.
Few Acolytes recognize that reality, of course. Many Acolytes dismiss the possessed as mad monsters, lost to the darkness. Not all Acolytes are content with that easy answer, and have attempted communication. What comes from those conversations is clear: these are people possessed by something. Sometimes the spirit knows what it is and what it wants. Other times it cannot pry itself from the tangle of the human’s thoughts and remains perplexed as to the spirit’s nature and design.
Those who have encountered the spirit-possessed tend to fall into one of three opinions regarding them:
They are emissaries from the spirit world. They have secrets to teach and lessons to impart. They should be treated well (for some, even worshipped) because they bear the touch of the spirits and the gods. Wise Acolytes approach the possessed with caution. Not all Acolytes are wise.
They are emissaries from enemy gods or are themselves adversaries to the gods. They have crossed over unnaturally and are on par with dangerous tumors. Acolytes who feel this way tend to do their own gods and spirits favor by seeking out such beings and destroying them.
They are madmen with foolish spirits trapped inside. They can be dismissed, destroyed, toyed with or set loose upon one’s enemies. The possessed don’t matter. They’re an amusement and curiosity (albeit dangerous). Some Acolytes whittle away the hours of their Requiems by playing cruel games upon these lost souls.
One New York cult, however, has a practice of enthralling the spirit-possessed. The Acolytes capture these creatures (culled from the ever-burgeoning homeless population) and enslave them with the power of blood and will. In some cases, it doesn’t always work (the beings seem sometimes incapable of being bound in this way), but when it does, it guarantees that the vampires have a small army of spirit-possessed madmen at the cult’s beck and call. With this, the cult plans to make a move for greater power in a city where the cult members have often been treated poorly.

Shallow Depths
Very few Acolytes understand the truth about spirits, no matter what the Kindred’s opinions are. Acolytes likely know more than members of other covenants, yes, but that doesn’t make the Acolytes an authoritative resource. Even the werewolves and mages don’t know the full story, and the Acolytes only know a fraction of what those other creatures do. These Kindred do not have a full picture of the spirit world — it’s as if they’re peering through a keyhole and trying to describe the room beyond. They may think themselves experts. They are usually wrong.
Thematically, this is appropriate. Spirits are living beings with fickle souls. Vampires, while eternal, are ultimately dead. They are hence barred from dealing too closely with spirits because of the Kindred’s own perceived soullessness. The only way they can truly deal with spirits is through blood. A vampire’s Vitae is the one thing that contains both an honest spark of life and the essence of magic. Both are elements for which most spirits hunger.