The Circle of the Crone
Few vampires outside the Circle of the Crone have anything even approaching a complete understanding of the group’s secretive beliefs and behaviors. As a covenant, the Circle is as devoted the Carthians, more tightly organized than The Invictus, and as often as not, more feared and misunderstood than The Lancea Sanctum and The Ordo Dracul. For many neonates, these mysterious Kindred are the “bogeymen” of vampire society — those who gather in sequestered cabals, where they practice ancient and eldritch rites in reverence to bloody gods and goddesses of cultures forgotten or shunned. These are the vampires about whom elders warn their childer: the political outcasts, iconoclasts and, to some, heretics of the Damned.
Members of this covenant maintain that the primary lesson to be learned from whatever origin of the undead any given Kindred espouses is that a vampire, though damned to an eternity of unlife, is no more or less a victim than he chooses to be. Empowerment and enlightenment are both well within the reach of any creature, vampire or otherwise, who is truthful and dedicated enough to attain them. Although the Circle is primarily a vampiric phenomenon, its ideology extends beyond the worldly borders of the Kindred plight and is attractive to non-Kindred as well. As such, the Circle boasts some of the most extensive and unusual Contacts among other, similarly inclined creatures, including mages and even werewolves.
As might be expected, Acolytes are none too popular with the fervent Lancea Sanctum, which takes great offense at the Circle’s “corruption” of its dearly held ideals. Some truly hardline Kindred, especially those in power in conservative domains, go so far as to outlaw the practice and spread of what they call “demon worship,” and they lay heavy penalties down upon those caught in violation of the decree. Most of the time, however, even the most stalwart Prince or Archbishop satisfies himself with making sure that those around him are free of any Acolyte heresy, thus cutting off any potential threat at the source.
Given the relatively radical nature of their philosophies, Acolytes are understandably preoccupied with the continued growth of their membership. In recent years, many have begun to actively seek converts, particularly from among the downtrodden and dispossessed of Kindred society. This search often leads to the door of unaligned Kindred, many of whom are somewhat more tolerant of Acolytes than they are of The Lancea Sanctum or Invictus. And there are others who view the Acolytes’ ideology as compatible with their own political outlook. As a result, the Circle’s missionary efforts have been rewarded, and the number of former independents who have become members grows with each passing night. After all, if vampires are real, who’s to say that the blood gods and deities of the Old Ways aren’t?
Branching out from this core precept are two underlying themes.
Creation is Power
Vampires of this covenant are perhaps the most honest with themselves about what they believe to be the truth of the Kindred condition. They recognize that the Requiem tears them from the natural world and suspends them in a state of eternal stasis, forever unable to create life. For those who let the truth of this realization destroy them, existence becomes an unending spiral of manipulation toward destruction, with Resources being allocated merely to fuel the perpetuation of the cycle. Creation, then, becomes both the source of true power and the only way a static creature can otherwise remain a vibrant part of the earthly order. Some Acolytes practice this ideology in small ways, tending gardens or breeding animals, while others take the broader view, seeking instead to create things of lasting beauty or utility such as art or invention. Whatever form it takes, all Acolytes strive to emulate creation in their own way.
Tribulation Brings Enlightenment
Acolytes believe that any creature can overcome its own weakness and moral failings by continually testing its physical, mental and spiritual limitations. Only through ongoing tribulation can one’s consciousness expand, and thus true understanding be reached. Cultists empower themselves by alternately exciting and challenging the senses, and through the newfound comprehension that results, they finally transform the static nature of undeath into the miracle of creation. Many cultists take this to a literal level, engaging in bouts of flagellation and other self-abuse that would make a mortal’s stomach churn. Others simply put their bodies in new and difficult situations so that they may better understand themselves and their fears and limitations. Whatever the motivation, the results are undeniable: Those who endure are tempered by their experiences, making them ever more capable of enduring whatever comes next.
The Crone's Liturgy
One of the most frequently heard recitations at cultist gatherings, this observance takes the form of passages read from various accounts of mythology or creation stories. The Liturgy has become the ceremonial opener (or closer, depending on the domain) for the regular meetings of assembled Acolytes. The passages themselves tell the tale, or in some convocations sing the song, of the Crone’s perseverance through adversity after banishment from the company of the gods. The text has a lyrical quality to it, due to the actionreaction nature of the Crone’s life, and many Acolytes have taken to employing the Greek method of call and response when reciting the Liturgy. (This has the effect of making everyone present feel involved, as opposed to just the speaker.) As most passages are fairly long, most Acolytes prefer to limit each recitation to whatever sub-section of the Liturgy is most appropriate to the subject or subjects of the meeting at hand.
The Winnowing
Acolytes claim a great many holy nights, adapted from the mythologies with which they most closely associate, and they tend to observe them with great sincerity and respect. The most important event to the covenant at large is an annual rite known as the Winnowing. The night itself falls upon a different date every year, and is dependent upon a whole host of variables, including the alignment of the stars and the phase of the moon. On the whole, though, it usually falls some time around the winter solstice (not dissimilar to the Celtic Yule, though with notably less connection to male divinities). On this night, Acolytes take stock of the trials they have bested, the pains they have endured and the things they have either created or destroyed in the intervening year. Since these matters are specific to each cultist, this ritual is always a highly personal one, and it is usually conducted in absolute silence under starlight. During the rite, each participant offers some of his own Vitae to the ground, in the hopes of cleansing his spirit before the coming year. The rite concludes with the Hierophant placing a wreath of laurel around the head of each participant, to represent the reestablishment of each Acolyte’s connection to the natural world, both within and without.
Other holidays associated with the Winnowing and observed in their unique formats punctuate the Circle’s calendar. The Feast of Samhain (October 31) represents the Crone saying farewell to the world in preparation for winter, and is celebrated with much revelry and orgies of blood. Latha Lunasdal (near August 1) commemorates the time of year when the nights grow longer than the days, and when the Kindred may claim more time as their own. Those Acolytes who choose to Embrace often do so on Walpurgis Night (February 25) in observance of the custom of fertility associated with that holy day. The Pyanepsion Noumenia (September 26-27) marks the honoring of the Crone herself, and is celebrated in all manners, from vampiric celebrations that resemble wild marauds to contemplation on what it means to be a creature of the night.
Crúac
The Circle of the Crone holds the mystical ways of Crúac, the “bloody crescent,” in high regard. A form of ritual magic, Crúac draws as much on shamanic systems of belief, druidic practice and even arts that resemble “black magic” in its performance. This magic is uniformly sanguinary in its practice, involving blood sacrifices at the very least and occasionally mortification of the flesh, scarring of the vampire’s body or even the death of a ritual victim for its most powerful effects. As fearful as the practice’s trappings are, none who has seen its powers in action can deny its effectiveness. Those outside the covenant might deride Crúac as “witchcraft,” but Acolytes themselves would never stoop to using such base terms for their spiritual sorcery.
Overview
The Circle of the Crone decries what are the most widely accepted creation myths of the vampire. To these cultists, The Lancea Sanctum’s progenitor is not to be revered, worshipped or even heeded. Nor is The Ordo Dracul’s nighmythical founder anything but a grand ruse. Instead, the Circle of the Crone claims a more naturalistic origin for vampires, that they have always been a part of the world, spawned in the dark places where mortals fear to tread and where guarded Suspicion yields to open fear. Their origin stories invoke such names as the Russian witch Baba Yaga, the horned god Cernunnos, the Thracian goddess of moon and magic Bendis, the animal-god Pashupati, bull sacrifices in the name of Mithras, and the bloodier incarnations of the Morrigan. Members of the Circle of the Crone occasionally even incorporate elements dating before Lancea Sanctum dogma into their philosophy through Lilith, the first wife of Adam. Acolytes, as members of the Circle are often known, reject vampiric notions of penitence entirely. Instead, they take a more organic approach to unlife, one that allows for all creatures — even the living dead — to continue to learn, grow and find enlightenment over time. While much of Kindred tradition places emphasis on guilt and penance according to the Judeo-Christian model, the Circle of the Crone sees itself as outside that framework.Members of this covenant maintain that the primary lesson to be learned from whatever origin of the undead any given Kindred espouses is that a vampire, though damned to an eternity of unlife, is no more or less a victim than he chooses to be. Empowerment and enlightenment are both well within the reach of any creature, vampire or otherwise, who is truthful and dedicated enough to attain them. Although the Circle is primarily a vampiric phenomenon, its ideology extends beyond the worldly borders of the Kindred plight and is attractive to non-Kindred as well. As such, the Circle boasts some of the most extensive and unusual Contacts among other, similarly inclined creatures, including mages and even werewolves.
As might be expected, Acolytes are none too popular with the fervent Lancea Sanctum, which takes great offense at the Circle’s “corruption” of its dearly held ideals. Some truly hardline Kindred, especially those in power in conservative domains, go so far as to outlaw the practice and spread of what they call “demon worship,” and they lay heavy penalties down upon those caught in violation of the decree. Most of the time, however, even the most stalwart Prince or Archbishop satisfies himself with making sure that those around him are free of any Acolyte heresy, thus cutting off any potential threat at the source.
Members
The Circle of the Crone boasts a diverse collection of Kindred among its adherents. Members of every clan and those of any age are drawn to the Circle’s particular ethos, and the covenant is certainly stronger because of it. If the covenant is weak in any one demographic, it is likely in the number of Ventrue who share in its beliefs. The Ventrue are childer of tradition, and among the more conservative members of the clan, tradition suggests that core Acolyte ideology is foolishness at best and heresy at worst. Conversely, the Gangrel (who are known for their disregard of both mortality and Kindred convention) are perhaps the perfect fit for the covenant’s mindset. Many Acolytes do indeed hail from the ranks of the Savages, who can find a symbolic resonance between their nature and those of the many gods and spirits in the Circle’s pantheon.Given the relatively radical nature of their philosophies, Acolytes are understandably preoccupied with the continued growth of their membership. In recent years, many have begun to actively seek converts, particularly from among the downtrodden and dispossessed of Kindred society. This search often leads to the door of unaligned Kindred, many of whom are somewhat more tolerant of Acolytes than they are of The Lancea Sanctum or Invictus. And there are others who view the Acolytes’ ideology as compatible with their own political outlook. As a result, the Circle’s missionary efforts have been rewarded, and the number of former independents who have become members grows with each passing night. After all, if vampires are real, who’s to say that the blood gods and deities of the Old Ways aren’t?
Philosophy
At the core of Acolytes’ belief sits the Crone, a sort of vampiric Mentor and lover of mythological “monsters” during various stages of history and among innumerable cultures. Obviously, reverence for the Crone is the source of the Circle’s name, and she is by turns an amalgamation of spirits or gods from whom vampires originated, or a literal figure not too vastly different from The Lancea Sanctum’s own progenitor. Acolytes revere the image and teachings of various mothergoddesses, who, according to a variety of mythological and religious texts, was cast out of the company of fellow gods for seeking to better herself by consuming the blood of those whom the gods had made in their image. Through trial and pain, the Crone managed to uncover the secrets of creation, and to survive the harsh wasteland that was life outside the gods’ own paradise. All on her own, the Crone is said to have created form, shape and beauty out of the barren nothingness that lay beyond the ken of men and gods, and her Circle seeks to emulate her experience so that it too might achieve her wisdom and power.Branching out from this core precept are two underlying themes.
Creation is Power
Vampires of this covenant are perhaps the most honest with themselves about what they believe to be the truth of the Kindred condition. They recognize that the Requiem tears them from the natural world and suspends them in a state of eternal stasis, forever unable to create life. For those who let the truth of this realization destroy them, existence becomes an unending spiral of manipulation toward destruction, with Resources being allocated merely to fuel the perpetuation of the cycle. Creation, then, becomes both the source of true power and the only way a static creature can otherwise remain a vibrant part of the earthly order. Some Acolytes practice this ideology in small ways, tending gardens or breeding animals, while others take the broader view, seeking instead to create things of lasting beauty or utility such as art or invention. Whatever form it takes, all Acolytes strive to emulate creation in their own way.
Tribulation Brings Enlightenment
Acolytes believe that any creature can overcome its own weakness and moral failings by continually testing its physical, mental and spiritual limitations. Only through ongoing tribulation can one’s consciousness expand, and thus true understanding be reached. Cultists empower themselves by alternately exciting and challenging the senses, and through the newfound comprehension that results, they finally transform the static nature of undeath into the miracle of creation. Many cultists take this to a literal level, engaging in bouts of flagellation and other self-abuse that would make a mortal’s stomach churn. Others simply put their bodies in new and difficult situations so that they may better understand themselves and their fears and limitations. Whatever the motivation, the results are undeniable: Those who endure are tempered by their experiences, making them ever more capable of enduring whatever comes next.
Rituals and Observances
The Circle of the Crone is a rigidly ceremonial covenant. It claims a variety of different special rites, many of which are unique to the Acolytes of a given coterie or domain. Of those that see more widespread observance, three stand out.The Crone's Liturgy
One of the most frequently heard recitations at cultist gatherings, this observance takes the form of passages read from various accounts of mythology or creation stories. The Liturgy has become the ceremonial opener (or closer, depending on the domain) for the regular meetings of assembled Acolytes. The passages themselves tell the tale, or in some convocations sing the song, of the Crone’s perseverance through adversity after banishment from the company of the gods. The text has a lyrical quality to it, due to the actionreaction nature of the Crone’s life, and many Acolytes have taken to employing the Greek method of call and response when reciting the Liturgy. (This has the effect of making everyone present feel involved, as opposed to just the speaker.) As most passages are fairly long, most Acolytes prefer to limit each recitation to whatever sub-section of the Liturgy is most appropriate to the subject or subjects of the meeting at hand.
The Winnowing
Acolytes claim a great many holy nights, adapted from the mythologies with which they most closely associate, and they tend to observe them with great sincerity and respect. The most important event to the covenant at large is an annual rite known as the Winnowing. The night itself falls upon a different date every year, and is dependent upon a whole host of variables, including the alignment of the stars and the phase of the moon. On the whole, though, it usually falls some time around the winter solstice (not dissimilar to the Celtic Yule, though with notably less connection to male divinities). On this night, Acolytes take stock of the trials they have bested, the pains they have endured and the things they have either created or destroyed in the intervening year. Since these matters are specific to each cultist, this ritual is always a highly personal one, and it is usually conducted in absolute silence under starlight. During the rite, each participant offers some of his own Vitae to the ground, in the hopes of cleansing his spirit before the coming year. The rite concludes with the Hierophant placing a wreath of laurel around the head of each participant, to represent the reestablishment of each Acolyte’s connection to the natural world, both within and without.
Other holidays associated with the Winnowing and observed in their unique formats punctuate the Circle’s calendar. The Feast of Samhain (October 31) represents the Crone saying farewell to the world in preparation for winter, and is celebrated with much revelry and orgies of blood. Latha Lunasdal (near August 1) commemorates the time of year when the nights grow longer than the days, and when the Kindred may claim more time as their own. Those Acolytes who choose to Embrace often do so on Walpurgis Night (February 25) in observance of the custom of fertility associated with that holy day. The Pyanepsion Noumenia (September 26-27) marks the honoring of the Crone herself, and is celebrated in all manners, from vampiric celebrations that resemble wild marauds to contemplation on what it means to be a creature of the night.
Crúac
The Circle of the Crone holds the mystical ways of Crúac, the “bloody crescent,” in high regard. A form of ritual magic, Crúac draws as much on shamanic systems of belief, druidic practice and even arts that resemble “black magic” in its performance. This magic is uniformly sanguinary in its practice, involving blood sacrifices at the very least and occasionally mortification of the flesh, scarring of the vampire’s body or even the death of a ritual victim for its most powerful effects. As fearful as the practice’s trappings are, none who has seen its powers in action can deny its effectiveness. Those outside the covenant might deride Crúac as “witchcraft,” but Acolytes themselves would never stoop to using such base terms for their spiritual sorcery.
Structure
Culture
Coterie Members
Almost as secretive as The Ordo Dracul, more enigmatic and undoubtedly unorthodox, the Acolytes are the sort of Kindred with whom one gets along famously or not at all. Outsiders rarely take any middle ground where the Circle is concerned. Yet this is precisely what happens in a cosmopolitan coterie if for no other reason than because Acolytes who join cosmopolitan coteries tend to be the more open-minded or approachable of the lot. Add to this the fact that they can be just as fervent as the Carthians, though in spiritual matters rather than political, and it is a wonder that anyone is ever willing to join them in a mixed coterie. Mistrust runs high on both sides. The Acolytes wonder if a mixed-covenant coterie might result in their most guarded practices being exposed, and other covenants worry that the Circle might try to convert members to their pagan beliefs.Individual cultists are often easier to get along with than the cult taken as a whole, however. Their chief motivation for joining a coterie is often to challenge their own perceptions, as the Circle sometimes recognizes that other covenants might have some insight that can lead to greater understanding. Whereas The Ordo Dracul is interested in any and all kinds of knowledge — be it occult, historical or otherwise — the Circle tends to focus mainly on occult secrets and the sorts of experiences that can broaden her understanding of the Kindred world.
Indeed, it is knowledge of many and varied occult secrets, some of them quite dark and forbidding, that an Acolyte can add to a cosmopolitan coterie. While a Dragon is likely to have some esoteric knowledge and some secrets about the vampiric condition, the Acolytes have access to secrets that none of the other covenants have, due to their focus on the natural world and their connection with old powers. While they are even less willing to let others know of their secrets than the Dragons are, they are still willing to give some insight to members of their own coteries. Of course, such insights rarely come cheaply (and never free). An exchange of knowledge is often required, sometimes along with swearing bloody oaths or some form of trial. Many Acolytes believe that one must suffer punishing and exacting epiphanies before one can truly understand what the Circle teaches, so they often demand as much from those who want to learn what they know. More often than not, the Acolytes hope that Kindred who go through such tests will gain enlightenment that leads her to abandon her former covenant and join the Circle.
Another kind of coterie that often appeals to the Acolytes is a physically oriented one. Those Circle members who focus on testing their bodies often find like-minded Kindred of other covenants with whom to experience the limits of endurance. These Kindred are sometimes put off by the extremes to which an Acolyte is willing to go, but often, they are simply spurred on, and such coteries can grow quite skilled through Circle associates. Such coteries are well liked by those who can direct them if they can be put to good use, but they are feared and distrusted if they cannot be commanded, retained or manipulated.
From the perspective of the Circle, cosmopolitan coteries present both a danger and an opportunity. The danger is the distraction that might occur from an Acolyte’s beliefs, especially if he is allied with Dragons or members of The Lancea Sanctum. As such, many Acolyte members of cosmopolitan coteries focus strongly on their beliefs and teachings, making sure that they rarely miss gatherings and rituals, in order to keep their faith strong. The opportunity to convert other Kindred to the Circle’s viewpoint is something the Circle is well aware of and one reason that it encourages the formation of cosmopolitan coteries. Of course, most Acolytes are not preachers who try to convert others of their coterie to the Circle’s beliefs (if for no other reason, then because other covenants might take offense as such blatant proselytizing). In cities where the Circle is strong, however, the Acolytes have little to fear in doing so. In such Circle-dominated cities, Acolytes are far more often encouraged to be members of cosmopolitan coteries without supervision, as the covenant leaders are less worried about spiritual pollution.
When the Circle is not in a position of strength, though, individual members are often watched and sometimes interrogated and punished for mixing with outsiders.
The Circle and Homosexuality
For many Kindred, Acolyte or not, sexual issues don’t matter. Some Kindred didn’t care much about sex before dying, and more lost interest after their first feed. Ingrained beliefs (bigotry or tolerance) usually carry on into the Requiem: without strong incentive to change, Kindred stagnation wins by default.That said, there is a segment of the Circle, that cares about homosexuality. These Acolytes don’t care about it as a lifestyle choice (since they don’t have lives) but rather as a philosophical and mystical issue. Among those with an opinion, the split is almost perfectly even between those who tolerate and even celebrate alternative sexuality, and those who despise and condemn it.
The intolerant faction adheres to what they call “the principle of Natural Life.” They believe in an ordered cosmos in which everything has a place and a purpose. Transgressing that order is not just wrong, it’s dangerous. Similar to fundamentalist Christianity and Islam, Natural Life Acolytes argue that living men have penises so they can impregnate living women, full stop. Unlike those mortal religions, Natural Life Acolytes cite direct experience of the supernatural as proof of cosmic order. Creation is good, and fertility is to be praised. Stagnant lustful rutting is, at best, a waste and a symptom of a greater malaise. At worst, it’s an affront to nature itself (although only the most fanatical fraction of the faction considers the damage anything but minor).
On the other side of the fence sit the Transgressionists, who think it’s pretty rich that a blood-drinking animate corpse would dare lecture anyone about “Life” or what’s “Natural.” Sure, standard vanilla man-woman sex creates babies and serves that function in the normal course of things.
But the normal is not the numinous, by definition. Those who reach for what’s beyond staid norms are expanding themselves, growing stronger, widening their perspectives. It doesn’t matter if the transgression is kicking apart a crucifix, going down on your sorority sister or telling some Jim Crow cracker that you are not going to sit in the back of the fucking bus. Denying the common wisdom is the only source of uncommon wisdom, and defying accepted tradition is the sole source of social change. Those whodare to step out of gender roles, be it from defiance or mental illness or simply because it is their preference, have matched their will against the masses. In this, intentionally or not, these Acolytes have pursued growth through tribulation. For that they deserve praise.
Nomads
The Circle of the Crone doesn’t have what one could call an “official” stance on roamers and nomads, or indeed on many other subjects. The Circle cares about what vampires believe far more than about what they do or how they lead their Requiems.Want to move from city to city? If that leads you to a better understanding of your undead existence, go for it. If it leads you astray from your journey toward wisdom, then you need to stop roaming and focus on what really matters. The Circle doesn’t micromanage the existence of its members, and trusts that Kindred can make their own decisions (even if those are the wrong decisions). By not condemning roaming or nomadic Requiems, the covenant ipso facto permits its members to move around as much as they wish — which is very little, for most Kindred.
There’s a difference, however, between policy and circumstance. While the Circle may not ask its members to venture from their cities on occasion, much less completely adopt a nomadic existence, the spiritual and organizational activities of the covenant or its rivals occasionally make roaming and travel advantageous — even necessary. If a vampire’s personal quest for wisdom and spiritual enlightenment can be fulfilled without ever leaving the boundaries of her hunting grounds, that’s great. It is also unlikely. Similarly, if a pagan Kindred can maintain his Haven and Status while a Lancea Sanctum pogrom is cleansing the city of “heretics,” more power to him. The rest of the unbelievers are probably heading for the hills.
Joining the Circle of the Crone is making a commitment to a difficult personal journey and a Requiem with more than the usual amount of dangers. If your individual path to power and enlightenment keeps leading you to the city limits, but you keep turning around and scurrying back to your Haven… well, maybe it’s time to admit that you’re a Christmas-and-weddings churchgoer rather than a true believer, and stop wasting the Circle’s time. Go see if the Carthians are recruiting.
Many Circle members can expect to do at least a little roaming at some point, if only to attend important rituals and meetings, but full-blown nomads are still a tiny minority of the covenant’s members. Like any strangers, Circle nomads will face a difficult reception in a new place, even in those rare cities where the Circle holds the reins of power — no shared ideology is ever going to override the Paranoia of the Kindred, or the instinctive urge toward frenzy vampires feel when meeting a stranger. If those complications can be overcome, however, roamers (even those of other covenants) face a less chilly reception from followers of The Crone than from any other covenant — the Circle members have enough roaming experience of their own to sympathize with the trials the nomads face.
The Circle in Road Coteries
The road to enlightenment is a personal one, but there’s no rule to say you can’t bring company with you at least part of the way.Roaming is dangerous and few nomads like to go it alone. Those of the Circle of the Crone are no different. Loners of the Circle are slightly more common than those of other covenants, because sometimes the path can only be traveled by one seeker — or because the destination has to be kept a secret. Most Circle nomads are more than willing to join with other Kindred travelers for all the usual reasons — company, shared Resources, mutual protection, and having one more room-temperature body to place in the way of danger. Road coteries comprised entirely of Circle members are relatively common, as a lot of covenant members end up roaming at least once during their Requiem. An all-Circle coterie may form spontaneously, as individual Kindred find their separate paths converging on a mutual destination or purpose. It’s more likely, though, that Circle members come together just before setting out on the road, organizing themselves into a coterie for the purpose of the trip, just like pilgrims assembling a group for a dangerous holy pilgrimage. It’s even possible that a preexisting coterie of Circle members may take to the road, the members united in seeking a single goal — or, more likely, fleeing a single enemy or threat.
There’s a flaw in an all-Circle road coterie, though, and that’s the covenant’s very diversity — its emphasis on a personal journey to wisdom and power over the vampiric condition. Every vampire in the coterie will have her own idea on what the coterie should be doing, or for that matter what it should be believing, which inevitably leads to tension. That kind of internal conflict can be a useful energy for a landed coterie, but not in a group facing the hazards of the road and the hostile reception of strangers. The philosophical arguments between a semi-Gnostic mystic and an Aztec-influenced blood cultist can lead to new insights during a ritual, but when they’re fighting over the steering wheel during a blizzard, the rest of the coterie is in trouble.
For that reason and others, Circle nomads are also common in mixed-covenant road coteries. They may not be as familiar as working within the Circle, but there’s less risk of conflicts remaining undetected and surfacing in times of danger. There’ll be conflicts, of course, but at least they’re obvious; a Circle mystic traveling with a Sanctified Legate (messenger) knows there are going to be problems, and can hopefully work to find some kind of equilibrium before things go south.
Black Celebrations
The primary reason Circle members leave their home bases is to attend rituals and gatherings of the covenant. The Circle of the Crone is the most ritualistic and ceremonial of covenants, and every member is obligated to contribute in some fashion. That obligation might seem to defy the covenant’s “find your own way” philosophy, but the Circle is a mystical order first and foremost. If a vampire wasn’t inclined to engage in ritual, she wouldn’t have joined the Circle in the first place; if her personal journey stops being compatible with the ceremonies of the covenant, she should probably find a new community to join or become a nomad. (A vampire who’s too much of an individual for the covenant of individualists probably should be roaming on his own, as he’s not going to fit in anywhere.)Not every ritual requires Circle members to leave the safety of their havens and home cities, of course — most rites are local, with a personal and community significance for the pagans of a particular area rather than the covenant as a whole. Even covenant-wide rites like the Feast of Samhain are generally observed on a local level; everyone in the covenant engages in the rite at the same time, but they don’t necessarily come together to do so.
Only particularly large or significant rituals bring together Circle members from across a region, and such rites are rare and infrequent. When they do occur, they usually bring together only those pagans who hold to a particular spiritual belief. Kindred shamans attempting to reconcile Shinto and Native American concepts into a new system don’t tend to get invited to traditional bacchanalian ceremonies. Of course, the shaman’s coterie-mate may still ask him to come along for the ride, if only because it’s safer to travel with a group.
Major rituals may occur in urban areas, but this isn’t very common. Most ancient religions reject or ignore the city and the trappings of civilization; observances of those religions tend to be the same.
Some rituals are held in cities, if the conditions are appropriate. Perhaps the rite will take place on a site of mystical significance which was built over by urban development decades earlier; perhaps the local Prince is sympathetic for religious (or political) reasons and will lend her support. Because urban centers are more comfortable for the Kindred, these rites are usually better attended by travelers; there are still risks, but they’re known risks.
Most major rites, however, take place outside the city. To make their observances, Kindred believers must not only leave their comfort zones, but also brave the dangers of the wilderness. That’s daunting, even to vampires who realize that the landscape between cities is not a teeming wasteland filled with Lupines (and in the World of Darkness, that’s not necessarily untrue). Having your attention totally diverted by the rigors of religious ritual when you’re miles from mortal blood supplies or immediate shelter from the sunlight — even the most unromantic and pragmatic vampire sees the risks there.
Pagan rites held in the sacred places of the wilds are often the most significant, spiritually rewarding and mystically powerful of Kindred ceremonies — and usually the least attended. Those dedicated nomads and true believers who do attend such rites thus reap a larger share of whatever rewards may be harvested. They also typically bolt for safety as soon as the ceremonies conclude.
Most major rites are both led and attended as one-off events: the participants travel to a sacred site, perform the ceremony and then run back to their havens. Some Circle mystics, though, become nomads to dedicate themselves to performing a rite over and over again. Called visitants, these rare nomads move from city to city and site to site, performing a specific rite or ceremony in each new domain.
Adopting a nomadic existence in order to constantly reaffirm the faith of yourself and your fellows requires immense dedication; visitants are fanatics whose spiritual faith is stronger than their urge for self-preservation, and for that reason they make the rest of the covenant uneasy. The Circle does its best to support the activities of its few visitants, who will usually be sheltered and aided as much as possible in any new domain, but it also keeps them at arm’s length. A Circle court will be immensely relieved when the nomad finally finishes his business and moves on.
Seeking the Darkness
Celebrations and rituals are important to the Circle of the Crone because they affirm the spirituality of the vampires involved and tighten the connections between covenant members — vital in a race as instinctively antisocial as the Kindred. Rites do little to increase the knowledge of the participants, however; they grant wisdom, not information. For the covenant to prosper and survive, it needs knowledge — knowledge of the dark places and mystical powers of the World of Darkness.The history of the Damned is filled with mysteries. The nature of the vampiric curse is something that has never been fully understood — and there are powers and beings extant in the world even more dangerous and complex than the Kindred. Knowledge is power, and if the Circle can learn more of the invisible truths of their world, they gain an advantage that their secular rivals and enemies cannot hope to match.
Ophite is the name some members of Circle give to its nomadic members who roam the world ferreting out secrets and arcane mysteries, after a Syrian Sethian-Ophite cult that worshipped The Crone in the form of the Goddess Sophia. Other covenants prefer terms like “devil worshipper,” “insane cultist”and “interfering motherfucker who must be destroyed at all costs.” Ophites are driven individuals, most of them obsessed with a particular secret, a specific mystery to solve — to find the iron bones of Baba Yaga, summon and enslave a demon from Hell or open a gate between this reality and the Lands of the Dead. These Kindred move from city to city, sacred site to ancient Temple, single-mindedly hunting for a new clue, tool or pawn that can get them closer to their goal. A rare few Ophites follow a broader path, searching for anything unusual or mystically significant — either because they simply desire the knowledge for its own sake or because they seek to increase the knowledge base of the covenant (or perhaps even the entire Kindred race).
The Ophites are not the only Kindred to search out secrets and mystical powers. The Ordo Dracul has entire covenants and organizations dedicated to finding holy sites and borderlands, places where spiritual energies can be harvested or ancient artifacts claimed. Unsurprisingly, the Guardians and Kogaions that seek and protect these wyrm nests don’t exactly welcome wild-eyed pagan mystics trespassing on the Order’s property and using blood magic to leech away all that mystical power. Similarly, few Ophites are willing to shrug and move on while the ignorant lapdogs of a degenerate Romanian psychopath strip mine the power of The Crone to fuel some poisonous delusion of apotheosis. The two covenants constantly battle over mystic sites, both politically and physically. When a new borderland is discovered, there may be a bitter, bloody race to see which covenant can claim it first.
It’s not just the Order that claims sites of power as their own. Many an Ophite has finally made the trek to the nexus he has been seeking for years, only to find it teeming with angry spirits, guarded by Lupines or watched over by paranoid warlocks who make the Dragons look like pikers. Whether it’s a black library of arcane lore, a river of blood streaming from the stones of a ruined medieval fortress, or an ancient fetish of beads and black feathers once worn by a butcherpriestess of the Morrigan, there’s almost always someone who had it first and doesn’t feel like sharing it with the Ophites of the Circle. Mystical power is not an infinite or renewal resource, and many denizens of the World of Darkness are prepared to go to war in order to protect their particular slice of the spiritual pie from any rival.
Because of the strong potential for opposition to their quests, Ophites don’t generally wander the world alone and unprotected. Some join a coterie of equals, but that’s not the norm; few nomads, even of the Circle, feel like risking their existences over and over just to help Crazy Old Melmoth invade a witches’ coven again. Much more common is a gang of loyal Acolytes and fellow believers — vampires, Ghouls and mortals pumped up on religious fervor (and/or mind-altering chemicals) who are prepared to lay down their (un)lives for the cause of the Goddess.
Tribulation
Visitants and Ophites get a lot of attention from their activities (some good, most bad), but they’re only a small minority of Circle nomads. Most of the wandering members of the covenant aren’t hitting the road in order to serve the Goddess, at least not directly. Instead, they do so in order to follow a central precept of The Crone’s philosophy — that tribulation brings enlightenment, and that by transcending your limits you move closer to attaining the wisdom that is the Goddess’ gift.Just what “tribulation” means varies depending who you talk to; there’s no central definition preserved in a Heirophant’s book of holy writ. (Actually many books contain such definitions, but they’re all different and in some cases mutually contradictory.) That, of course, is part of the point. If tribulation meant the same thing to every vampire, it wouldn’t be a personal journey; if it could be mapped out and set down in a step-by-step handbook, it’d enlighten you about as much as reading an airport-bookstore thriller. At its core, it’s an experience that tests endurance, faith, patience or other virtues; it’s the shadow of the valley of death, through which you pass and become stronger. What that experience is, what aspect of character it tests, what passing that test means and how one grows stronger from it — that’s the element that is unique to each individual vampire.
Many pagans find it possible (certainly desirable) to pass through tribulation in the comfort of their own Haven or domain. These vampires are the lucky ones, who can scourge themselves with birch rods until they see The Crone’s face or find wisdom by fasting for nights and holding back their frenzy through sheer determination. Some can’t find enlightenment so close to home.
Perhaps there’s nothing in your domain that really has meaning for you or you’ve already exhausted the trails that are readily available; maybe you know that you’ll fail to push yourself hard enough if you have the security and safety net of your home base to retreat to come dawn. For whatever reason, a significant proportion of pagans take to the road in search of tribulation, hunting for the moment of clarity in the eye of the storm.
A nomad seeking wisdom through suffering sounds like a statistic waiting to happen; it’s certainly true that some pagans end up suffering Final Death through misadventure, bad judgment or biting off more than they could chew. Some, but not as many as one might expect. A vampire in search of tribulation isn’t necessarily stupid or carrying a death wish — and those that are, well, they’re no great loss to the covenant.
Planning and foresight don’t have to impede the search for enlightenment. For instance, a popular ordeal is starvation, pushing yourself to the limits of hunger and maintaining control during wassail Burying yourself down a well in the desert without access to blood is fine and dandy, but what happens after you break through the frenzy — or if you don’t keep control and instead go mad? If you’re smart, you arrange for Allies to drop off a lot of blood during the day at a predetermined time, maybe a week later, in a place where you can get to it as soon as you wake at night. Said Allies should then come back at night with transport, more blood and some wellarmed back-up — just in case you’re a mindless, hungry psychopath instead of their weak-but-enlightened friend.
Tribulation is something you endure alone; only a fool believes you have to manage the aftermath alone as well. Succeed or fail, surviving the extremes of the vampiric existence leaves you weakened (physically, if not spiritually), and there’s no shame in getting some help from your friends at that point. Because of this, pagan nomads almost always travel in road coteries, often with others in search of tribulation and wisdom as well.
History
Worship
Kindred have a long span in which to remember, but recollections cruelly twisted or truncated by their very nature. It’s one more cruel irony of the Requiem: they remember so much, and recall so little.
The Circle of the Crone, as the oldest covenant, looks back more than any other. Sometimes this recollection takes the form of artifacts, scrolls or artwork dating back to the ancient world. Far more often, recollection is in the form of oral history and repeated ritual. The most common rituals are tied to yearly dates, the better to ensure their retention.
The Circle of the Crone, as the oldest covenant, looks back more than any other. Sometimes this recollection takes the form of artifacts, scrolls or artwork dating back to the ancient world. Far more often, recollection is in the form of oral history and repeated ritual. The most common rituals are tied to yearly dates, the better to ensure their retention.
Holy Nights of the Covenant
For a covenant known for individuality, even to the point of idiosyncrasy, The Circle of the Crone has more observed holidays than any other, except possibly The Lancea Sanctum. Indeed, both the spiritual covenants can, with little stretching, find a night sacred (or profane) to some Kindred Saint, angel, goddess or devil, or some event significant to church or sect history, for all 365 nights of the year plus Leap Day Eve. Most of these are minor festivals, observed only by the fearfully devout or by those dedicated to one particular sub-sub-cult. There are, however, some festivals that almost every Acolyte observes, whether the central deity in her pantheon is Odin, Palden Lhamo or the Acolyte herself.Personal Times of Joy and Sorrow
Further complicating the yearly cycle of Acolyte worship, there are nights that are entirely personal and unique to each individual Kindred. While Kindred of other covenants may dismiss the celebration of personal milestones as a weak or sentimental humanism, the Acolytes see the issue in a very different light. Not only does their philosophy of individualism practically insist on revering the spiritual impact of the individual on himself, the most extreme followers of the covenant believe they themselves are as divine as Hine-titama orKing Gesar. Why then, should meaningful dates of their personal mythologies be forgotten?
Type
Religious, Coven
Demonym
Acolytes
Subsidiary Organizations
Related Traditions
Related Ranks & Titles
Related Professions
Controlled Territories
Notable Members
Storyteller's Option: Freeform Status
Storyteller's Option: Status Through Protracted Activity
Concerning...
Golconda: Golconda may be real. We do not, however, pretend to know the secret ourselves.Pagans and Savages
The Circle’s notions on tribulation and growth have more than a little in common with Gangrel philosophies on pushing one’s limits and scourging away weakness through surviving danger. This should hardly come as a surprise; the Gangrel are the clan most represented within the Circle of the Crone, and both entities have affected each other’s beliefs and approaches to the Requiem.The two philosophies are not identical, though. The Circle’s belief is that surviving tribulation is an important step on the path leading to enlightenment, a way to learn and grow through transcending perceived limitations. The Gangrel view is that survival is not part of the process, it’s the goal; survival is an end in itself, not just part of the journey to transcendence.
Another aspect of this difference is that the Circle believes creation is the purpose of existence, and that Kindred must find a way to regain their lost creative spirit in order to return to the natural order. To the Gangrel, existence is the purpose of existence, and everything else is just a mechanism to hold back the power of the Beast — which might be worthwhile if you want to retain any Humanity and sanity, but could also be a mistake that places you at the mercy of your own weakness.
As befits a covenant of mystics and thinkers, the Circle’s philosophies are focused on learning; the Gangrel focus on being. To some extent, that makes them complement each other; Savages of the Circle can find many new insights from the gestalt of the two. In other areas, the philosophies are incompatible and even opposed, and a vampire must decide whether his conscious mind or the instincts of the Beast will be the filterthrough which he hears the music of his Requiem.
Neutral
Carthians: "Detached from reality."
Circle of The Crone: "Misplaced values."
Few dedicated Carthians even understand The Circle of the Crone. It’s not that they’re religious, or that many of them steadily refuse to hide their religion, even in the face of discrimination. Holding true to one’s beliefs is something that the Carthians have a deep, abiding respect for, and they find the tenacity of the Circle quite appealing. The Circle’s passive acceptance of oppression (in fact, their apparent urge to provoke it) is what confuses Carthian Kindred. More often than not, an offer to relieve members of the Circle of painful circumstances will fall on deaf ears. They almost never want things to change for the better, at least not the way the Movement does.
Even more curiously, The Circle of the Crone may align itself with the Carthian cause under the most dangerous circumstances — during an anti– Carthian pogrom, for instance — but will quickly abandon the Carthians when the peril passes. It’s as though the Circle encourages its members to test themselves, and the Carthians are acceptable Allies only when their friendship increases the difficulty of the test (or, on rare occasions, helps the Acolytes survive it). Many Carthians quickly grasp this feature of the Circle and either learn to take advantage of it or do their best to ignore it.
Conversion from The Circle of the Crone to The Carthian Movement is infrequent, but does occur. The mystical tenets of the former can actually overlap comfortably with the political philosophies of the latter, but it’s often hard for Circle members to identify with outsiders, and doubly so for them to integrate comfortably into a secular organization. More often than not, members of the Circle will lend their support to like-minded Carthians without actually crossing over from the Circle.
Carthian rule is often just as forgiving of the Circle as the Movement is of The Lancea Sanctum, so long as the Circle refrains from overtly inhumane activity. Many governing members of The Carthian Movement balk at the Circle’s apparent obsession with blood, but only because it seems to indicate a tendency to monstrousness that most covenants are more careful to conceal. Strangely, the Circle often seems most resistant to Carthian rule when the Acolytes are indulged and acknowledged as legitimate citizens. A problem for governing Carthians seems to be finding a balance between tolerating the Kindred of the Circle and finding a way to make them feel as though they’re still struggling to survive without endangering the smooth function of the domain. Many Carthian leaders abandon the effort in favor of a simpler choice: outlawing the Circle and allowing it to function as an underground cult.
Circle of The Crone: "Misplaced values."
Few dedicated Carthians even understand The Circle of the Crone. It’s not that they’re religious, or that many of them steadily refuse to hide their religion, even in the face of discrimination. Holding true to one’s beliefs is something that the Carthians have a deep, abiding respect for, and they find the tenacity of the Circle quite appealing. The Circle’s passive acceptance of oppression (in fact, their apparent urge to provoke it) is what confuses Carthian Kindred. More often than not, an offer to relieve members of the Circle of painful circumstances will fall on deaf ears. They almost never want things to change for the better, at least not the way the Movement does.
Even more curiously, The Circle of the Crone may align itself with the Carthian cause under the most dangerous circumstances — during an anti– Carthian pogrom, for instance — but will quickly abandon the Carthians when the peril passes. It’s as though the Circle encourages its members to test themselves, and the Carthians are acceptable Allies only when their friendship increases the difficulty of the test (or, on rare occasions, helps the Acolytes survive it). Many Carthians quickly grasp this feature of the Circle and either learn to take advantage of it or do their best to ignore it.
Conversion from The Circle of the Crone to The Carthian Movement is infrequent, but does occur. The mystical tenets of the former can actually overlap comfortably with the political philosophies of the latter, but it’s often hard for Circle members to identify with outsiders, and doubly so for them to integrate comfortably into a secular organization. More often than not, members of the Circle will lend their support to like-minded Carthians without actually crossing over from the Circle.
Carthian rule is often just as forgiving of the Circle as the Movement is of The Lancea Sanctum, so long as the Circle refrains from overtly inhumane activity. Many governing members of The Carthian Movement balk at the Circle’s apparent obsession with blood, but only because it seems to indicate a tendency to monstrousness that most covenants are more careful to conceal. Strangely, the Circle often seems most resistant to Carthian rule when the Acolytes are indulged and acknowledged as legitimate citizens. A problem for governing Carthians seems to be finding a balance between tolerating the Kindred of the Circle and finding a way to make them feel as though they’re still struggling to survive without endangering the smooth function of the domain. Many Carthian leaders abandon the effort in favor of a simpler choice: outlawing the Circle and allowing it to function as an underground cult.
Competitive
Circle of The Crone: "Distracted from true understanding."
Ordo Dracul: "Idolaters without enlightenment."
Many Dragons find the Acolytes interesting, but not out of idle curiosity. Despite the facets of The Circle of the Crone that annoy or amuse some Dragons, the Circle’s abilities, philosophy and history make The Ordo Dracul unable to dismiss the potential power of the Acolytes.
The two covenants share some history, or more accurately, The Ordo Dracul takes some of its history from the Circle. According to the Rites of the Dragon, Vlad Tepes actually joined the Circle for a time (how long is a matter of debate) and learned at least some of the secrets of Crúac before deciding that that blood sorcery would not teach him what he sought to know. Even tonight, a sizeable number of Dragons begin their Requiems with the Circle before “converting” to The Ordo Dracul. Both covenants, after all, offer mystical paths to power, but The Circle of the Crone is deeply rooted in worship and the past while The Ordo Dracul is dedicated to scientific experimentation and the future.
The Circle of the Crone certainly looks askance at some of the Ordo’s assertions. Notably, most Acolytes do not know (or believe) that Dracula was ever part of their covenant, and certainly don’t believe that he was able to make any particular headway with Crúac. Some Acolytes do assert that one of Dracula’s childer joined the covenant and very nearly broke away from the Impaler’s tyranny, but Dracula seduced her back to his side. Many Acolytes also do not believe for a moment that Dracula became a vampire through direct divine intervention. (Privately, some Dragons who doubt their founder’s spontaneous Embrace buy into the Acolyte suggestion that a warrior of the Circle, probably a Gangrel, was responsible for Tepes’ Requiem). Some among the Circle even believe that Dracula was a blood-sorcerer of some stripe before his Embrace, and somehow managed to magically eradicate any trace of clan before ever siring his childer.
These two covenants do have some points of similarity, of course. Both seek to empower their members, if to different ends. Both recognize that suffering and tribulation can be a means to enlightenment, although the Circle focuses on this much more strongly than The Ordo Dracul. The Dragon faction called the Impaled, however, effectively straddles the divide between the Order and the Circle. While The Ordo Dracul agrees that creation is an act of power, the Order feels that virtually any act ofchange is also a demonstration of power. The ultimate goal of the Order, the transcendence of the Curse, has been seen as a noble pursuit by more than a few Acolytes — can’t the Great Work be considered an attempt to create a new state of existence? The pursuit of mystic secrets and the exploration of Kindred history are enough to bring some Circle and Order vampires together.
The Acolytes and the Dragons often share interests in Wyrm’s Nests, and this is probably their greatest practical point of conflict. The Dragons note, however, that because the Acolytes attach religious meaning to their classification of Wyrm’s Nests (while The Ordo Dracul classifies such places by utility), leaking informationabout a potentially perilous Nest to The Circle of the Crone provides a method of discerning how dangerous the area really is.
Ordo Dracul: "Idolaters without enlightenment."
Many Dragons find the Acolytes interesting, but not out of idle curiosity. Despite the facets of The Circle of the Crone that annoy or amuse some Dragons, the Circle’s abilities, philosophy and history make The Ordo Dracul unable to dismiss the potential power of the Acolytes.
The two covenants share some history, or more accurately, The Ordo Dracul takes some of its history from the Circle. According to the Rites of the Dragon, Vlad Tepes actually joined the Circle for a time (how long is a matter of debate) and learned at least some of the secrets of Crúac before deciding that that blood sorcery would not teach him what he sought to know. Even tonight, a sizeable number of Dragons begin their Requiems with the Circle before “converting” to The Ordo Dracul. Both covenants, after all, offer mystical paths to power, but The Circle of the Crone is deeply rooted in worship and the past while The Ordo Dracul is dedicated to scientific experimentation and the future.
The Circle of the Crone certainly looks askance at some of the Ordo’s assertions. Notably, most Acolytes do not know (or believe) that Dracula was ever part of their covenant, and certainly don’t believe that he was able to make any particular headway with Crúac. Some Acolytes do assert that one of Dracula’s childer joined the covenant and very nearly broke away from the Impaler’s tyranny, but Dracula seduced her back to his side. Many Acolytes also do not believe for a moment that Dracula became a vampire through direct divine intervention. (Privately, some Dragons who doubt their founder’s spontaneous Embrace buy into the Acolyte suggestion that a warrior of the Circle, probably a Gangrel, was responsible for Tepes’ Requiem). Some among the Circle even believe that Dracula was a blood-sorcerer of some stripe before his Embrace, and somehow managed to magically eradicate any trace of clan before ever siring his childer.
These two covenants do have some points of similarity, of course. Both seek to empower their members, if to different ends. Both recognize that suffering and tribulation can be a means to enlightenment, although the Circle focuses on this much more strongly than The Ordo Dracul. The Dragon faction called the Impaled, however, effectively straddles the divide between the Order and the Circle. While The Ordo Dracul agrees that creation is an act of power, the Order feels that virtually any act ofchange is also a demonstration of power. The ultimate goal of the Order, the transcendence of the Curse, has been seen as a noble pursuit by more than a few Acolytes — can’t the Great Work be considered an attempt to create a new state of existence? The pursuit of mystic secrets and the exploration of Kindred history are enough to bring some Circle and Order vampires together.
The Acolytes and the Dragons often share interests in Wyrm’s Nests, and this is probably their greatest practical point of conflict. The Dragons note, however, that because the Acolytes attach religious meaning to their classification of Wyrm’s Nests (while The Ordo Dracul classifies such places by utility), leaking informationabout a potentially perilous Nest to The Circle of the Crone provides a method of discerning how dangerous the area really is.
Barely Neutral
Circle of the Crone: "A foul aristocracy."
Invictus: "Refuse to accept their place."
The archetypal Invictus vampire does not understand the appeal of the Circle of the Crone. The Circle has its share of elders, but many Invictus Kindred are simply at a loss to see what the Circle offers those vampires that the Invictus does not. Ultimately, this is how even fanatically rigid Society vampires make peace with Acolytes: at least the pagans have found a place for themselves.
The Invictus sees the Circle of the Crone as irrational where the Invictus is rational, chaotic where the Invictus is orderly. Because of the Circle’s weird ways, many Invictus believe Circle cults to be perilous risks, potential breaches in the Masquerade, which the Invictus is passionately committed to preserving. In nearly every way that matters, such cults’ nightly efforts run contrary to those of the First Estate. They are unpredictable, unstructured and volatile.
For vehemently factional Invictus vampires, this volatility is reason enough to forbid the presence of Acolytes in the domain. For more clever Society Kindred, the fringe lunacy of the Circle is a valuable tool for social order. Circle cults serve as asylums for potentially valuable or useful vampires. A wise Invictus leader defines a social and geographical area where the Acolytes can have their way, sends troublesome but useful neonates their way, and makes the pagan covenant responsible for its own members. The ugly alternative is a city riddled with lone, unknown religious radicals. The covenant of the Crone helps the Invictus categorize, identify and interact with a potentially unknown factor of Kindred society.
It’s frustrating to the First Estate that so many otherwise-competent Kindred are lured away from order and defense of the Masquerade by such fringe philosophies. When Acolytes point to Crúac as vindication of their covenant affiliation, members of the Invictus just shake their heads. In the eyes of the First Estate, blood magic is hardly reason enough to abandon efforts to blend in and work with the mortal world. A large number of Invictus Kindred despise the practice of Crúac anyway — any vampire that gains much mastery in it becomes more monstrous and unpredictable, which, in the eyes of the First Estate, is just an invitation to Masquerade breaches and other unsavory behavior.
On those grounds alone, some Invictus-controlled domains have issued a strict ban on the practice of Crúac, with either Torpor or Final Death as the penalty for breaking the ban. In the strictest of these domains, anyone even associated with the Circle of the Crone is hunted down, overtly or covertly, as likely threats. Needless to say, these bans infuriate Acolytes, but these kinds of practices take place only where the Circle of the Crone is particularly weak.
On the other hand, many Invictus vampires believe Acolytes feel much more persecuted by the First Estate than they really are. The popularly perceived union of the Invictus and The Lancea Sanctum causes Society vampires to get painted with the wrong brush by Acolytes — even when the Invictus and the Sanctified have no formal allegiances, many Crone cultists assume they do. Thus, while the Invictus has little interest in getting its hands too dirty with the Circle of the Crone, few Acolytes do much to learn more about the First Estate.
Individual Society Kindred have developed meaningful and powerful allegiances with Acolytes in numerous domains, of course. Both covenants have long memories and a fondness for the ancient ways. According to some tales, the Invictus and the Crone enjoyed many centuries of peace in the nights of pagan Rome. Certainly several modern domains, where Judeo-Christian religions do not Dominate the mortal populations from which the Kindred are drawn, are still home to Society Acolytes and Invictus worshippers of the Crone. In some domains, these unions achieve remarkable power and solidity because they’re formed under pressure from other covenants, like young lovers driven together by warring parents. In other domains, these unions are powerful precisely because they are secret or unexpected.
Invictus: "Refuse to accept their place."
The archetypal Invictus vampire does not understand the appeal of the Circle of the Crone. The Circle has its share of elders, but many Invictus Kindred are simply at a loss to see what the Circle offers those vampires that the Invictus does not. Ultimately, this is how even fanatically rigid Society vampires make peace with Acolytes: at least the pagans have found a place for themselves.
The Invictus sees the Circle of the Crone as irrational where the Invictus is rational, chaotic where the Invictus is orderly. Because of the Circle’s weird ways, many Invictus believe Circle cults to be perilous risks, potential breaches in the Masquerade, which the Invictus is passionately committed to preserving. In nearly every way that matters, such cults’ nightly efforts run contrary to those of the First Estate. They are unpredictable, unstructured and volatile.
For vehemently factional Invictus vampires, this volatility is reason enough to forbid the presence of Acolytes in the domain. For more clever Society Kindred, the fringe lunacy of the Circle is a valuable tool for social order. Circle cults serve as asylums for potentially valuable or useful vampires. A wise Invictus leader defines a social and geographical area where the Acolytes can have their way, sends troublesome but useful neonates their way, and makes the pagan covenant responsible for its own members. The ugly alternative is a city riddled with lone, unknown religious radicals. The covenant of the Crone helps the Invictus categorize, identify and interact with a potentially unknown factor of Kindred society.
It’s frustrating to the First Estate that so many otherwise-competent Kindred are lured away from order and defense of the Masquerade by such fringe philosophies. When Acolytes point to Crúac as vindication of their covenant affiliation, members of the Invictus just shake their heads. In the eyes of the First Estate, blood magic is hardly reason enough to abandon efforts to blend in and work with the mortal world. A large number of Invictus Kindred despise the practice of Crúac anyway — any vampire that gains much mastery in it becomes more monstrous and unpredictable, which, in the eyes of the First Estate, is just an invitation to Masquerade breaches and other unsavory behavior.
On those grounds alone, some Invictus-controlled domains have issued a strict ban on the practice of Crúac, with either Torpor or Final Death as the penalty for breaking the ban. In the strictest of these domains, anyone even associated with the Circle of the Crone is hunted down, overtly or covertly, as likely threats. Needless to say, these bans infuriate Acolytes, but these kinds of practices take place only where the Circle of the Crone is particularly weak.
On the other hand, many Invictus vampires believe Acolytes feel much more persecuted by the First Estate than they really are. The popularly perceived union of the Invictus and The Lancea Sanctum causes Society vampires to get painted with the wrong brush by Acolytes — even when the Invictus and the Sanctified have no formal allegiances, many Crone cultists assume they do. Thus, while the Invictus has little interest in getting its hands too dirty with the Circle of the Crone, few Acolytes do much to learn more about the First Estate.
Individual Society Kindred have developed meaningful and powerful allegiances with Acolytes in numerous domains, of course. Both covenants have long memories and a fondness for the ancient ways. According to some tales, the Invictus and the Crone enjoyed many centuries of peace in the nights of pagan Rome. Certainly several modern domains, where Judeo-Christian religions do not Dominate the mortal populations from which the Kindred are drawn, are still home to Society Acolytes and Invictus worshippers of the Crone. In some domains, these unions achieve remarkable power and solidity because they’re formed under pressure from other covenants, like young lovers driven together by warring parents. In other domains, these unions are powerful precisely because they are secret or unexpected.
Barely Neutral
Circle of The Crone: "Hateful demagogues."
Lancea Sanctum: "Heretics, witches and worse."
Across the lands of the World of Darkness, in its most tangled and wooded recesses and its most cold and crowded urban warrens, there may be no more reviled heretics against Longinus than the Acolytes of this witch-coven of Croneworshippers. They are not simply doubters or weak-spirited, and they do not merely seek a Coward’s pitiful escape from the Curse or a self-indulgent seat on some throne of the Damned — they actively avoid the Word of Longinus and waste their nights with idleness and idolatry. The witches and fools and The Circle of the Crone actively choose to exist — to perpetuate! — the sad ignorance suffered by those untouched Beasts who prowled the night before God revealed the vampires’ destiny to Longinus. These are the pagans in the spiritual wilds, where the church bells of The Lancea Sanctum are barely heard and often cursed with contempt.
Strictly speaking, The Lancea Sanctum has little tolerance for blasphemers and pretend religions. Certainly the Croneworshippers are the villainous centerpiece in the great and fiery Sermons of many Bishops. Without a doubt they are the preferred infidel of warmongering Sanctified crusaders and witch-hunters, for they can be smote without remorse as threats to the Church and The Traditions. It is well known among the swords of The Lancea Sanctum that Acolytes of The Crone are blood addicts, celebrators of the Amaranth, and prolific breeders.
Of course, relationships between individual Sanctified and individual Acolytes come in a great many more varieties than those well known among the swords of either covenant. The Lancea Sanctum finds it useful to propagate the hateful stereotypes of The Circle of the Crone as a means of keeping the gatekeepers vigilant and the wider congregation afraid. When The Circle of the Crone grows too powerful locally or some temporary partnership falls apart, the Sanctified leadership gladly drapes any enemy Acolyte in the cowl of the heathen barbarian.
The Sanctified have learned over the centuries that it is best for them to devote their energies inward, to the solidarity and security of their own covenant. Endless crusades against The Crone and her minions, and endless witch-hunts in search of sinful practitioners of Acolyte blood magic are likely to be just that: endless. The Acolytes are weeds in the garden of the faithful, and while one must be wary of weeds, a wise gardener knows that a small weed may keep out a larger, more troublesome plant. Some weeds, in fact, are quite beautiful and can therefore be plucked last.
Partnerships are very rarely made between The Lancea Sanctum and The Circle of the Crone. Most ancillae cannot recall even one fleeting treaty between the two covenants. Those few, well-known unions of the foggy past are usually assumed to be allegorical. Only the most dire threats to a domain could drive these two covenants together — and in many parishes, there simply aren’t enough werewolves in the world to amass such a threat.
Cooperation between a Sanctified vampire and an Acolyte, however, is much more common. Even whole coteries learn to coexist. Some of these relationships are based on strict interpretations of territory and property, both religious and physical. Others are unspoken peace agreements between the rare few devout vampires in a domain who can at least respect faith when they see it. Most have much more to do with the cooperating Kindred than the opposing dogmas.
A Sanctified Priest may speak out against a well-known Acolyte during Midnight Mass, only to routinely meet at Elysium for theological discussion or a game of chess. A coterie of Sanctified and Acolyte neonates might see itself as devout rebels, celebrating piety outside the stricter bonds of organized religion. An Acolyte and a Priest who’ve known each other for a century may look past the vestments and blood when each joins a different covenant. The Sanctified, especially in regions of religiously progressive mortals, may concede that there is insight to be learned from Acolytes, much as exercise strengthens a living muscle. The Sanctified certainly accept that Acolytes may have access to facts and secrets The Lancea Sanctum cannot obtain themselves.
The key to Sanctified and Acolyte partnerships is often a tacit agreement to respect invisible boundaries. One should not assume special treatment by the other’s congregation. One should not assume the partnership is widely approved or should be. One should not assume that cooperation implies approval or tolerance of the other’s dogma. One should not assume the partnership will last forever.
Lancea Sanctum: "Heretics, witches and worse."
Across the lands of the World of Darkness, in its most tangled and wooded recesses and its most cold and crowded urban warrens, there may be no more reviled heretics against Longinus than the Acolytes of this witch-coven of Croneworshippers. They are not simply doubters or weak-spirited, and they do not merely seek a Coward’s pitiful escape from the Curse or a self-indulgent seat on some throne of the Damned — they actively avoid the Word of Longinus and waste their nights with idleness and idolatry. The witches and fools and The Circle of the Crone actively choose to exist — to perpetuate! — the sad ignorance suffered by those untouched Beasts who prowled the night before God revealed the vampires’ destiny to Longinus. These are the pagans in the spiritual wilds, where the church bells of The Lancea Sanctum are barely heard and often cursed with contempt.
Strictly speaking, The Lancea Sanctum has little tolerance for blasphemers and pretend religions. Certainly the Croneworshippers are the villainous centerpiece in the great and fiery Sermons of many Bishops. Without a doubt they are the preferred infidel of warmongering Sanctified crusaders and witch-hunters, for they can be smote without remorse as threats to the Church and The Traditions. It is well known among the swords of The Lancea Sanctum that Acolytes of The Crone are blood addicts, celebrators of the Amaranth, and prolific breeders.
Of course, relationships between individual Sanctified and individual Acolytes come in a great many more varieties than those well known among the swords of either covenant. The Lancea Sanctum finds it useful to propagate the hateful stereotypes of The Circle of the Crone as a means of keeping the gatekeepers vigilant and the wider congregation afraid. When The Circle of the Crone grows too powerful locally or some temporary partnership falls apart, the Sanctified leadership gladly drapes any enemy Acolyte in the cowl of the heathen barbarian.
The Sanctified have learned over the centuries that it is best for them to devote their energies inward, to the solidarity and security of their own covenant. Endless crusades against The Crone and her minions, and endless witch-hunts in search of sinful practitioners of Acolyte blood magic are likely to be just that: endless. The Acolytes are weeds in the garden of the faithful, and while one must be wary of weeds, a wise gardener knows that a small weed may keep out a larger, more troublesome plant. Some weeds, in fact, are quite beautiful and can therefore be plucked last.
Partnerships are very rarely made between The Lancea Sanctum and The Circle of the Crone. Most ancillae cannot recall even one fleeting treaty between the two covenants. Those few, well-known unions of the foggy past are usually assumed to be allegorical. Only the most dire threats to a domain could drive these two covenants together — and in many parishes, there simply aren’t enough werewolves in the world to amass such a threat.
Cooperation between a Sanctified vampire and an Acolyte, however, is much more common. Even whole coteries learn to coexist. Some of these relationships are based on strict interpretations of territory and property, both religious and physical. Others are unspoken peace agreements between the rare few devout vampires in a domain who can at least respect faith when they see it. Most have much more to do with the cooperating Kindred than the opposing dogmas.
A Sanctified Priest may speak out against a well-known Acolyte during Midnight Mass, only to routinely meet at Elysium for theological discussion or a game of chess. A coterie of Sanctified and Acolyte neonates might see itself as devout rebels, celebrating piety outside the stricter bonds of organized religion. An Acolyte and a Priest who’ve known each other for a century may look past the vestments and blood when each joins a different covenant. The Sanctified, especially in regions of religiously progressive mortals, may concede that there is insight to be learned from Acolytes, much as exercise strengthens a living muscle. The Sanctified certainly accept that Acolytes may have access to facts and secrets The Lancea Sanctum cannot obtain themselves.
The key to Sanctified and Acolyte partnerships is often a tacit agreement to respect invisible boundaries. One should not assume special treatment by the other’s congregation. One should not assume the partnership is widely approved or should be. One should not assume that cooperation implies approval or tolerance of the other’s dogma. One should not assume the partnership will last forever.
Hostile
At first glance, interactions between the Brood and The Circle of the Crone can seem confusing to those outside either covenant. Within a domain, periods of calm and outright cooperation between the two covenants are punctuated with terrible nights of liver-devouring revenge. Belial’s Brood sees The Circle of the Crone as a covenant obsessed with the trappings of spirituality, but unable to make the sacrifices necessary to leave behind mortal misconceptions. According to the Forsworn, The Circle of the Crone is satisfied with the few tricks the covenant has unearthed over the centuries, and has grown complacent. The well-known degenerative effects of Crúac enforce the opinion amongst many Forsworn that Acolytes were once on the edge of understanding, but shied away from taking the final leap necessary to free themselves from their mortal mindset.
In the present nights, The Circle of the Crone has devolved into a hodge-podge of pagans and New Age cultists, resting on the laurels of the Circle’s past accomplishments. While some within The Circle of the Crone may still have insight into the supernatural underpinnings of their covenant’s rituals, most seem all too happy to mimic the tired trappings of the mortal traditions they failed to grasp in life. While a small minority within the Brood believe this makes Acolytes the perfect Allies, most harbor the same disdain for The Circle of the Crone as they do for other covenants. Supposedly, members of the Roaring Serpent take particular issue with the Acolytes’ adherence to a female progenitor, considering their belief that vampires sprung from a very masculine Belial. Other factions seem willing to accept The Circle of the Crone as simply the product of a gang of vampires unwilling to forsake the trappings of their mortal lives.
Despite the Acolytes’ supposed harmlessness, Belial’s Brood recognizes the appeal The Circle of the Crone holds for younger brethren of the Forsworn. The lure of power promised by the Acolytes is wrapped in trappings deceptively similar to that offered by the Brood, but devoid of the visceral price demanded by the Pursuit. Conflict often arises between the two covenants when a young Forsworn seeks shelter amongst The Circle of the Crone or attempts to breach the sacred trust of The Crux. Antinomians are known to indulge in especially berserk and depraved scenarios when they discover they have been betrayed by one of their own brethren and The Crone. Acolytes, for their part, seem to understand that the Brood is somehow related to the primal origins of The Circle of the Crone, and are comfortable accepting defectors from the Brood since such defectors have no worthwhile information to relate once they’ve left.
When Forsworn put down roots in a domain controlled by The Circle of the Crone, long-term understandings become more difficult between the two covenants. Of the factions that have tried to co-exist with the Acolytes, the Throne of Smokeless Fire has had the most relative success in recent years. Djinn seem to pride themselves on their ability to manipulate and cajole mortals into convoluted social hierarchies. Pacts between the two covenants invariably break down when the Forsworn become too numerous to resist striking at their Allies’ holdings, or when the notoriously potent Djinn become the targets of Acolyte Diablerie attempts.
In the present nights, The Circle of the Crone has devolved into a hodge-podge of pagans and New Age cultists, resting on the laurels of the Circle’s past accomplishments. While some within The Circle of the Crone may still have insight into the supernatural underpinnings of their covenant’s rituals, most seem all too happy to mimic the tired trappings of the mortal traditions they failed to grasp in life. While a small minority within the Brood believe this makes Acolytes the perfect Allies, most harbor the same disdain for The Circle of the Crone as they do for other covenants. Supposedly, members of the Roaring Serpent take particular issue with the Acolytes’ adherence to a female progenitor, considering their belief that vampires sprung from a very masculine Belial. Other factions seem willing to accept The Circle of the Crone as simply the product of a gang of vampires unwilling to forsake the trappings of their mortal lives.
Despite the Acolytes’ supposed harmlessness, Belial’s Brood recognizes the appeal The Circle of the Crone holds for younger brethren of the Forsworn. The lure of power promised by the Acolytes is wrapped in trappings deceptively similar to that offered by the Brood, but devoid of the visceral price demanded by the Pursuit. Conflict often arises between the two covenants when a young Forsworn seeks shelter amongst The Circle of the Crone or attempts to breach the sacred trust of The Crux. Antinomians are known to indulge in especially berserk and depraved scenarios when they discover they have been betrayed by one of their own brethren and The Crone. Acolytes, for their part, seem to understand that the Brood is somehow related to the primal origins of The Circle of the Crone, and are comfortable accepting defectors from the Brood since such defectors have no worthwhile information to relate once they’ve left.
Forsworn–Acolyte Partnerships
While vampires of The Circle of the Crone would rarely admit to having any kind of working relationship with Belial’s Brood, the covenants do seem to have a tacit understand concerning the Brood’s many nomadic coveys. Forsworn nomads often seek out domains controlled by Acolytes when fleeing persecution or when the Forsworn are in need of replenishing a covey’s membership. These wandering coveys know better then to recruit from amongst the Acolytes, but understand that The Circle of the Crone is more likely to assume that their practices are simply an enthusiastic outgrowth of their own. By the time the Powers That Be suspect the wanderers are members of Belial’s Brood, they have pulled up their stakes. Nomadic coveys that have made more formal arrangements can act as messengers for Crone Princes with more regional ambitions. In exchange for safe Haven and anonymity, these Forsworn coveys deliver both tidings and omens to those who have displeased their benefactors.When Forsworn put down roots in a domain controlled by The Circle of the Crone, long-term understandings become more difficult between the two covenants. Of the factions that have tried to co-exist with the Acolytes, the Throne of Smokeless Fire has had the most relative success in recent years. Djinn seem to pride themselves on their ability to manipulate and cajole mortals into convoluted social hierarchies. Pacts between the two covenants invariably break down when the Forsworn become too numerous to resist striking at their Allies’ holdings, or when the notoriously potent Djinn become the targets of Acolyte Diablerie attempts.