The Invictus (in-VICK-tuss)
In the eyes of those who don’t understand it — and, admittedly, of some who do — the Invictus is the despised aristocracy of the undead, the gentry who did nothing to earn their position but who would do anything to maintain it. They’re the landlord, the overseer, the dictator. The Invictus might not truly hold much more authority across the domains than the other covenants do, but it makes such a big deal about what power it does have that many Kindred often associate it with the highest offices. The Invictus often tries to portray itself as among the oldest covenants, with or without justification. Oldest or not, the covenant is certainly tenured. It has vast interest— and influence — in mortal affairs, and many outside the covenant see it as the guardian (sometimes excessively so) of the Masquerade.
The Invictus.
Some Kindred speak that name as a curse. Others say it with envy. To the members of this society of vampires, however, their name is the proudest boast imaginable. Empires rise and fall but they remain the Unconquered — the eternal masters of the night, ruling vampires and mortals alike.
Vampires newly come into the secret world of the Damned often have trouble understanding the Invictus. In the modern world, how can anyone — even a vampire centuries old — keep the pretense of being a feudal lord? Surely, the Invictus must be a joke, nothing but a few ancient bloodsuckers lost in dreams of the past. Perhaps other Kindred humor the Invictus because of the personal power that age confers on the Damned, but — take them seriously? Bow before them, call them Prince or Regent or Lord, and mean it? Impossible!
Later, these Kindred learn the Invictus have as much power as the stories say. In many cities, the Invictus really are the lords of the night. Other Kindred really do bow before them, use their archaic titles and follow their formalized rituals. The Invictus are the secret influential power behind vampiric and mortal institutions alike, steering rulers and guiding authorities overtly and covertly. No tool of influence is off limits to them. The Invictus whisper in the ears of corporate executives and claim powerful mortal politicians as their vassals. They blackmail enemies with untraceable, insidious agents in the shadows and frighten Allies into subservience with nebulous, terrible threats from on-high. The Invictus lies and promises, bullies and seduces, empowers and undermines, cajoles and oppresses, creates and destroys. The Invictus shapes the night and defines the lines of civilization. And the Invictus does all of it without disrespecting or compromising the Masquerade.
These relics of bygone ages somehow keep a grip on slender but vital threads of the modern world, the same threads that have pulled and tangled Princes and kings for millennia: the fibers of the human soul that want power and do anything to get it.
Some Kindred become bitter. “It isn’t fair,” they say, that an elite society of undying monsters should hold so much power and keep it from younger hands. They must be cheating. Resentful younger Kindred think of the Invictus as the ultimate greedy, self-centered Establishment: the ruling class that did nothing to deserve such power, but does anything to keep it.
The elders of the Invictus disagree. When they deign to notice such complaints at all, they say they earned their power long ago and prove they deserve it every night. They spent centuries clawing their way up the ladder of power. Let the insolent younglings do the same. When they have built a fortune — when they have attled witch-hunters and horrors stranger than vampires, when they have survived the murderous plots of their rivals to seize power for themselves — then let them talk, and the Invictus listen.
The covenant’s elders would also point out how many younger vampires take that advice. For now, the covenant’s ancillae and neonates bow and serve their elders. The young ones are paying their dues and learning the trade of power. In them, the elders say, behold the Princes of cities yet unborn. The path is hard and progress slow — but those who prove themselves truly Unconquered shall win power and glory forever.
For, one night, every elder must relinquish his seat for a time. Every elder must eventually trust his estate to another while he lays in deathly Torpor. Every elder must ind others to trust, and where else should one look for integrity and success but within the Invictus? Eventually, all power must be shared with those who have survived the nights and aged to excellence.
They shall be lords of the night. They shall be masters of Kindred and kine. They shall never be defeated.
Invictus!
To hear the Invictus tell it, the covenant represents a meritocracy. The Kindred with the greatest skill, the greatest ambition and ultimately the greatest claim to leadership eventually rise to dominance. In the process, they are tempered, learning to deal with all manner of impediments, political, social or martial. If the Invictus is ruled by Princes, they are Princes of their own making.
It’s a nice conceit. In many select regions, it’s even true. For the most part, however, the First Estate is like any feudal government— those at the top stay there, and those at the bottom are crushed. If personal strength determines political power, how can young Kindred possibly advance? After all, their elder rivals already have the advantage of decades if not centuries of head start. They’re stronger. They’re wiser. They’re far more experienced in the political arena. And unlike mortal aristocracies, in which the up-and-comers could count on positions eventually opening up, Invictus elders aren’t likely to die naturally anytime soon, and those who fall to Torpor have time to set their Allies and pawns up to take their place. The Invictus, then, represents the pinnacle of achievement for the aristocracy: the illusion of equal opportunity without the reality of it. Many young Kindred aren’t fooled, but many others are — and just enough of the young really do manage to carve out their own niche to make the covenant appealing. After all, despite the apparent dearth of opportunity, the Invictus really is one of the most powerful and influential factions. Sure, it’s hard to move up the ladder, but if you can, you’re going to be far more powerful than, say, someone of equivalent standing among the Carthians or some would-be tyrant among The Unaligned.
The Invictus claims to have popularized the use of many of the common titles and ranks in Kindred society, particularly that of Prince. In all ways, the covenant thinks in terms of aristocracy, or at least gentry. In the Old World, the image remains of the noble holding court. In America, that image has evolved in some regions into industrial barons and old-money families, an unofficial yet no less effective elite. In either case, one thing remains the same — those who have it, have it, and those who don’t, don’t.
Ultimately, then, the Invictus exists in part to maintain order among the Kindred. Like any aristocracy, the First Estate suffers in lawlessness. Only through an ordered existence and the rule of law can the leaders of the covenant maintain their power. With the possible exception of The Lancea Sanctum, which has religious motivations for its actions, the Invictus is the most draconian covenant when it comes to enforcing the letter of The Traditions and Kindred law. It maintains the illusion of freedom and opportunity within the covenant, cloaking its tyrannical system in metaphors of “government by the fittest,” in hopes of appealing to those outside its ranks, but the group is truly more concerned with keeping order among its own ranks. If the masses don’t behave, then all the power the elders have built upon their backs must crumble.
And that, of course, leads to the First Estate’s unstated (but hardly secret) second purpose: not merely maintaining order, but keeping the elders who already hold power in charge of that order. Let them speak all they want about expanding the rule of law and the noble cause the Invictus represents. At the end of the night, it’s all about Princes, Primogen and other elders keeping themselves at the top of the pile by stepping on the heads of those beneath them.
Most disturbing of all to young Kindred, be they members or potential members, is the nagging thought that the Invictus might have the right of it. Horrific as it sounds, this notion of keeping all power in the hands of a select few undying elders, one must ask the question: If not them, who? Who else would have both the knowledge and the power necessary to fill such a position and to keep a covenant of inherently selfish predators functioning? If the Invictus’ oppressive and tyrannical nature has lasted this long, maybe that’s because it works.
That said, a surprising number of ancillae and even neonates belong to the Invictus. In some instances, this is purely a matter of the Embrace. Traditionally, childer are obligated to serve their sires’ interests, at least for a time. More than any other covenant, the Invictus enforces an astonishing degree of servility. The offspring of many Invictus Kindred remain in the covenant, first out of duty, and then because they have either managed to eke out some Status for themselves, or because they know no other way.
Other neonates join out of sheer ambition or self-confidence (or arrogance). True, most young Kindred have little chance of any real advancement, but the luckiest and most capable few do indeed manage to make their mark, to obtain positions of power or to even carve out their own little fiefdoms. It might be challenging to advance within the ranks of the Invictus, but the rewards for doing so are great.
The Invictus makes it easy for them. After all, the covenant wants as many members as possible. Not only do more members equate to a wider base of power, but even the most fearful elders acknowledge that they need young vampires to understand and take fullest advantage of the modern world. Of course, as with all lords, what Invictus elders really want are servants and vassals, not equals. Kings don’t build roads, they inspire and command others to do so. The larger a king’s retinue and army, the more power he holds, and the Invictus desires to hold all the power. Members of the covenant actively seek out other Kindred for membership, expounding the strengths and benefits of the covenant while glossing over the rather substantial downsides.
No procedure or test exists for joining the Invictus. A prospective member must often take an oath of loyalty before either a covenant or local official (a Prince, Primogen or a lesser “patron,” for instance). Of course, the covenant has members and the covenant has members. A new recruit can expect to be carefully observed for years, possibly even decades, before other Invictus members even deign to listen to him or allow him access to any sensitive information.
Given all this, the two common threads that run among almost all Invictus members, elder and neonate alike, are burning ambition and a belief in the rule of law. Those who are unwilling to work for every scrap of power — and, perhaps more to the point, to be constantly on guard against their rivals who do the same — have no place in the courts and corporate boardrooms of the First Estate. Those who aren’t prepared to operate within the unspoken rules, to play the games of politics and trading of favors, will never acquire enough Allies to succeed (or, perhaps, even survive).
Oaths of Fealty
Due to its largely feudal structure, nearly every layer of interaction within the Invictus has a corresponding oath of fealty or loyalty. Followers swear oaths to leaders, childer to sires, thralls to regnants. And this, of course, doesn’t even count the oaths that Invictus-aligned city officials often demand from all their subjects, Invictus or otherwise. Rare indeed is the Invictus Kindred who does not labor under at least three or four oaths.
Recitation of Lineage
Despite its claims that leaders are made, not born, the Invictus puts substantial social stock in its members’ parentage. The farther back a member can recite her blood, the more respect she is offered. Descent from a particularly notable Kindred confers great Status in the covenant. Descent from a notorious ancestor, or an inability to recite a vast portion of one’s lineage, is grounds for scorn. Being able to claim membership in some of the more respected bloodlines (such as the so-called Mithraic Ventrue) is very nearly the equivalent of royalty, and the Invictus maintains a healthy regard for any bloodline or family capable of distinguishing itself from the parent clan by word or deed.
Formality of Presentation
Most Invictus Princes hold very formal courts and rule very structured (so much as they can manage it) domains. Whether a domain is ruled like a corporate boardroom, an old South plantation or a literal feudal court, it almost certainly has formalities and procedures that must be observed. Invictus Kindred, on average, make use of more of the local titles described previously in this chapter than members of other covenants do, precisely because of their preoccupation with position and formality. Many Invictus Princes have a Seneschal announce arriving guests by name, title (if any) and lineage (if known). They insist on specific forms of address and possibly even styles of wardrobe from those who attend their courts. They might even insist on a certain degree of refinement when it comes to social interaction at court (vulgar jokes and coarse Language could be forbidden). Mouthing off to a Prince, a Regent or any other elder is grounds for severe chastisement, and more than one neonate with a “You can’t tell me what to do!” attitude has found himself subjected to a Vinculum, banishment or even been faced with the sunrise when initial warnings proved insufficient.
In some cities where the Invictus wields a majority of the power, this formality extends even beyond Elysium. Kindred in such domains are expected to keep very close track of social Status among all those with whom they interact, and to act accordingly. In such a city, failing to show proper deference to one of higher Status can result in punishment, and showing too much deference to one of lower Status results in substantial mockery and loss of face. Harpies hold nearly as much power in these cities as the Primogen, for they can grant or rescind social Status at whim.
Old-Fashioned Communication
As an offshoot of the formality issue, many elder Invictus insist that most of their correspondence be conducted through the use of messengers or written letters. Telephones and email are considered gauche, the tools of an unlettered and ill-mannered youth. (Additionally, many elders are rightfully concerned that they don’t know enough to protect themselves from outside eavesdropping.) Most elders aren’t foolish about this protocol. When it comes to vital news or emergencies, they don’t object to receiving a call or an email (though even then, Princes often prefer their Seneschals or other servants to receive the information and then deliver it in person). Using these techniques for any other purpose, however, is grounds for a social snubbing at the very least. (Some young Kindred claim that this “tradition” actually exists only so that elders aren’t forced to reveal how uncomfortable and incompetent they are with modern appliances. They rarely make this claim in front of their elders, though.)
Monomacy
Tradition states that, in years gone by, the Invictus used formal duels, contests and trials by ordeal to settle otherwise unsolvable disputes. These duels and ordeals are known collectively as Monomacy. Some members of the covenant believed, as did many mortals in the Middle Ages, that God stepped in and ensured that victory went to the righteous party. Other members simply wanted a means whereby elders could settle personal issues without dragging pawns and even entire domains into the conflict. By the modern nights, the Invictus has largely abandoned its claims of divine right — even the most devout souls have difficulty believing that God takes a direct hand in duels — but it is still practiced by the staunchest supporters of the First Estate when a just cause arises.
In fact, only two titles that do not correspond to political positions are commonly found in Invictus domains.
Inner Circle
In some domains where the Invictus is not fully in control, or at least where many domain offices are held by members of other covenants, the covenant needs a body of leadership that does not consist entirely of officers of the city government. This is called the Inner Circle. Its members can be anyone, from the Prince and some of the Primogen to Kindred who hold no official position in the city at all. They set policy for the local Invictus and are always on the lookout for opportunities to advance their own positions. Strongly Invictus-dominant cities rarely have an Inner Circle. An Inner Circle exists only where the city government and the faction power structure are not one and the same. Further, this Invictusspecific “sub-Primogen” is possible only in the largest domains, where the Kindred population can support such a gathering.
Judex
Sometimes members of the Invictus come into conflict with one another. Under such circumstances, most members agree that turning to outsiders (such as city officials) for resolution is a poor idea, as it makes the covenant appear divided. Monomacy is reserved for only the gravest disputes, since few elders are willing to put their unlives on the line just to settle a disagreement. Most cities with more than the tiniest Invictus presence therefore have a Judex. Her job is, quite simply, to rule on disputes between Invictus Kindred. Once the parties involved agree to such mediation, the Judex’s ruling is binding, even over those Kindred who would normally hold greater authority (such as a Prince). Judices are chosen from among city officials (in Invictus-dominant domains), members of the Inner Circle or, at worst, from among the most respected Invictus present. Some cities have a standing Judex, and the position is usually filled by a candidate on whom the Prince and Primogen can agree (or whom the Prince can force the Primogen to acknowledge). Other domains choose their mediators on a conflict-byconflict basis. Tradition states that the Judex in such instances must be chosen by a respected Kindred who has no obvious ties to either party. Doing so is often more difficult than it sounds, and many such domains have adopted the custom of allowing a Judex, as his final act, to appoint the next Judex, well before anyone knows what problem may arise next.
The Invictus.
Some Kindred speak that name as a curse. Others say it with envy. To the members of this society of vampires, however, their name is the proudest boast imaginable. Empires rise and fall but they remain the Unconquered — the eternal masters of the night, ruling vampires and mortals alike.
Vampires newly come into the secret world of the Damned often have trouble understanding the Invictus. In the modern world, how can anyone — even a vampire centuries old — keep the pretense of being a feudal lord? Surely, the Invictus must be a joke, nothing but a few ancient bloodsuckers lost in dreams of the past. Perhaps other Kindred humor the Invictus because of the personal power that age confers on the Damned, but — take them seriously? Bow before them, call them Prince or Regent or Lord, and mean it? Impossible!
Later, these Kindred learn the Invictus have as much power as the stories say. In many cities, the Invictus really are the lords of the night. Other Kindred really do bow before them, use their archaic titles and follow their formalized rituals. The Invictus are the secret influential power behind vampiric and mortal institutions alike, steering rulers and guiding authorities overtly and covertly. No tool of influence is off limits to them. The Invictus whisper in the ears of corporate executives and claim powerful mortal politicians as their vassals. They blackmail enemies with untraceable, insidious agents in the shadows and frighten Allies into subservience with nebulous, terrible threats from on-high. The Invictus lies and promises, bullies and seduces, empowers and undermines, cajoles and oppresses, creates and destroys. The Invictus shapes the night and defines the lines of civilization. And the Invictus does all of it without disrespecting or compromising the Masquerade.
These relics of bygone ages somehow keep a grip on slender but vital threads of the modern world, the same threads that have pulled and tangled Princes and kings for millennia: the fibers of the human soul that want power and do anything to get it.
Some Kindred become bitter. “It isn’t fair,” they say, that an elite society of undying monsters should hold so much power and keep it from younger hands. They must be cheating. Resentful younger Kindred think of the Invictus as the ultimate greedy, self-centered Establishment: the ruling class that did nothing to deserve such power, but does anything to keep it.
The elders of the Invictus disagree. When they deign to notice such complaints at all, they say they earned their power long ago and prove they deserve it every night. They spent centuries clawing their way up the ladder of power. Let the insolent younglings do the same. When they have built a fortune — when they have attled witch-hunters and horrors stranger than vampires, when they have survived the murderous plots of their rivals to seize power for themselves — then let them talk, and the Invictus listen.
The covenant’s elders would also point out how many younger vampires take that advice. For now, the covenant’s ancillae and neonates bow and serve their elders. The young ones are paying their dues and learning the trade of power. In them, the elders say, behold the Princes of cities yet unborn. The path is hard and progress slow — but those who prove themselves truly Unconquered shall win power and glory forever.
For, one night, every elder must relinquish his seat for a time. Every elder must eventually trust his estate to another while he lays in deathly Torpor. Every elder must ind others to trust, and where else should one look for integrity and success but within the Invictus? Eventually, all power must be shared with those who have survived the nights and aged to excellence.
They shall be lords of the night. They shall be masters of Kindred and kine. They shall never be defeated.
Invictus!
Overview
To an extent, the common Perception of the Invictus is accurate as far as it goes, but it leaves the greatest depths of the covenant unexamined. The so-called First Estate is, at its heart, still rooted in the feudal system. It was purportedly during some stage soon after the collapse of the Roman Empire that the Invictus developed into what it is tonight, cementing a dogma that its elders claim (accurately or not) actually predates the fall. Call it divine right, the natural order, rule by the strong or whatever you like — the Invictus operates entirely as a system of linked monarchies. Everything is about power. Those who don’t have it want it, while those who have it want to keep and increase it.To hear the Invictus tell it, the covenant represents a meritocracy. The Kindred with the greatest skill, the greatest ambition and ultimately the greatest claim to leadership eventually rise to dominance. In the process, they are tempered, learning to deal with all manner of impediments, political, social or martial. If the Invictus is ruled by Princes, they are Princes of their own making.
It’s a nice conceit. In many select regions, it’s even true. For the most part, however, the First Estate is like any feudal government— those at the top stay there, and those at the bottom are crushed. If personal strength determines political power, how can young Kindred possibly advance? After all, their elder rivals already have the advantage of decades if not centuries of head start. They’re stronger. They’re wiser. They’re far more experienced in the political arena. And unlike mortal aristocracies, in which the up-and-comers could count on positions eventually opening up, Invictus elders aren’t likely to die naturally anytime soon, and those who fall to Torpor have time to set their Allies and pawns up to take their place. The Invictus, then, represents the pinnacle of achievement for the aristocracy: the illusion of equal opportunity without the reality of it. Many young Kindred aren’t fooled, but many others are — and just enough of the young really do manage to carve out their own niche to make the covenant appealing. After all, despite the apparent dearth of opportunity, the Invictus really is one of the most powerful and influential factions. Sure, it’s hard to move up the ladder, but if you can, you’re going to be far more powerful than, say, someone of equivalent standing among the Carthians or some would-be tyrant among The Unaligned.
The Invictus claims to have popularized the use of many of the common titles and ranks in Kindred society, particularly that of Prince. In all ways, the covenant thinks in terms of aristocracy, or at least gentry. In the Old World, the image remains of the noble holding court. In America, that image has evolved in some regions into industrial barons and old-money families, an unofficial yet no less effective elite. In either case, one thing remains the same — those who have it, have it, and those who don’t, don’t.
Ultimately, then, the Invictus exists in part to maintain order among the Kindred. Like any aristocracy, the First Estate suffers in lawlessness. Only through an ordered existence and the rule of law can the leaders of the covenant maintain their power. With the possible exception of The Lancea Sanctum, which has religious motivations for its actions, the Invictus is the most draconian covenant when it comes to enforcing the letter of The Traditions and Kindred law. It maintains the illusion of freedom and opportunity within the covenant, cloaking its tyrannical system in metaphors of “government by the fittest,” in hopes of appealing to those outside its ranks, but the group is truly more concerned with keeping order among its own ranks. If the masses don’t behave, then all the power the elders have built upon their backs must crumble.
And that, of course, leads to the First Estate’s unstated (but hardly secret) second purpose: not merely maintaining order, but keeping the elders who already hold power in charge of that order. Let them speak all they want about expanding the rule of law and the noble cause the Invictus represents. At the end of the night, it’s all about Princes, Primogen and other elders keeping themselves at the top of the pile by stepping on the heads of those beneath them.
Most disturbing of all to young Kindred, be they members or potential members, is the nagging thought that the Invictus might have the right of it. Horrific as it sounds, this notion of keeping all power in the hands of a select few undying elders, one must ask the question: If not them, who? Who else would have both the knowledge and the power necessary to fill such a position and to keep a covenant of inherently selfish predators functioning? If the Invictus’ oppressive and tyrannical nature has lasted this long, maybe that’s because it works.
Members
For what should be fairly obvious reasons, the Invictus often appeals far more to elder Kindred than to neonates. In the incestuous political arena that the Invictus favors, age and experience are of far greater value than anything youth might offer. Young Kindred outnumber elders, and they have a much better grasp on the changes the modern world has brought about. Many elders face those facts with a dread akin to that inspired by open flame, and the notion of a government specifically designed to keep the established strong and their childer weak is one that appeals immensely.That said, a surprising number of ancillae and even neonates belong to the Invictus. In some instances, this is purely a matter of the Embrace. Traditionally, childer are obligated to serve their sires’ interests, at least for a time. More than any other covenant, the Invictus enforces an astonishing degree of servility. The offspring of many Invictus Kindred remain in the covenant, first out of duty, and then because they have either managed to eke out some Status for themselves, or because they know no other way.
Other neonates join out of sheer ambition or self-confidence (or arrogance). True, most young Kindred have little chance of any real advancement, but the luckiest and most capable few do indeed manage to make their mark, to obtain positions of power or to even carve out their own little fiefdoms. It might be challenging to advance within the ranks of the Invictus, but the rewards for doing so are great.
The Invictus makes it easy for them. After all, the covenant wants as many members as possible. Not only do more members equate to a wider base of power, but even the most fearful elders acknowledge that they need young vampires to understand and take fullest advantage of the modern world. Of course, as with all lords, what Invictus elders really want are servants and vassals, not equals. Kings don’t build roads, they inspire and command others to do so. The larger a king’s retinue and army, the more power he holds, and the Invictus desires to hold all the power. Members of the covenant actively seek out other Kindred for membership, expounding the strengths and benefits of the covenant while glossing over the rather substantial downsides.
No procedure or test exists for joining the Invictus. A prospective member must often take an oath of loyalty before either a covenant or local official (a Prince, Primogen or a lesser “patron,” for instance). Of course, the covenant has members and the covenant has members. A new recruit can expect to be carefully observed for years, possibly even decades, before other Invictus members even deign to listen to him or allow him access to any sensitive information.
Given all this, the two common threads that run among almost all Invictus members, elder and neonate alike, are burning ambition and a belief in the rule of law. Those who are unwilling to work for every scrap of power — and, perhaps more to the point, to be constantly on guard against their rivals who do the same — have no place in the courts and corporate boardrooms of the First Estate. Those who aren’t prepared to operate within the unspoken rules, to play the games of politics and trading of favors, will never acquire enough Allies to succeed (or, perhaps, even survive).
Rituals and Observances
The Invictus has few covenant-wide observances. As a whole, the First Estate is concerned more with traditions of general behavior than with specific activities. Still, certain social customs and mores have survived to the modern era, though they have become such a standard part of the Invictus Requiem that many Kindred no longer recognize them as such.Oaths of Fealty
Due to its largely feudal structure, nearly every layer of interaction within the Invictus has a corresponding oath of fealty or loyalty. Followers swear oaths to leaders, childer to sires, thralls to regnants. And this, of course, doesn’t even count the oaths that Invictus-aligned city officials often demand from all their subjects, Invictus or otherwise. Rare indeed is the Invictus Kindred who does not labor under at least three or four oaths.
Recitation of Lineage
Despite its claims that leaders are made, not born, the Invictus puts substantial social stock in its members’ parentage. The farther back a member can recite her blood, the more respect she is offered. Descent from a particularly notable Kindred confers great Status in the covenant. Descent from a notorious ancestor, or an inability to recite a vast portion of one’s lineage, is grounds for scorn. Being able to claim membership in some of the more respected bloodlines (such as the so-called Mithraic Ventrue) is very nearly the equivalent of royalty, and the Invictus maintains a healthy regard for any bloodline or family capable of distinguishing itself from the parent clan by word or deed.
Formality of Presentation
Most Invictus Princes hold very formal courts and rule very structured (so much as they can manage it) domains. Whether a domain is ruled like a corporate boardroom, an old South plantation or a literal feudal court, it almost certainly has formalities and procedures that must be observed. Invictus Kindred, on average, make use of more of the local titles described previously in this chapter than members of other covenants do, precisely because of their preoccupation with position and formality. Many Invictus Princes have a Seneschal announce arriving guests by name, title (if any) and lineage (if known). They insist on specific forms of address and possibly even styles of wardrobe from those who attend their courts. They might even insist on a certain degree of refinement when it comes to social interaction at court (vulgar jokes and coarse Language could be forbidden). Mouthing off to a Prince, a Regent or any other elder is grounds for severe chastisement, and more than one neonate with a “You can’t tell me what to do!” attitude has found himself subjected to a Vinculum, banishment or even been faced with the sunrise when initial warnings proved insufficient.
In some cities where the Invictus wields a majority of the power, this formality extends even beyond Elysium. Kindred in such domains are expected to keep very close track of social Status among all those with whom they interact, and to act accordingly. In such a city, failing to show proper deference to one of higher Status can result in punishment, and showing too much deference to one of lower Status results in substantial mockery and loss of face. Harpies hold nearly as much power in these cities as the Primogen, for they can grant or rescind social Status at whim.
Old-Fashioned Communication
As an offshoot of the formality issue, many elder Invictus insist that most of their correspondence be conducted through the use of messengers or written letters. Telephones and email are considered gauche, the tools of an unlettered and ill-mannered youth. (Additionally, many elders are rightfully concerned that they don’t know enough to protect themselves from outside eavesdropping.) Most elders aren’t foolish about this protocol. When it comes to vital news or emergencies, they don’t object to receiving a call or an email (though even then, Princes often prefer their Seneschals or other servants to receive the information and then deliver it in person). Using these techniques for any other purpose, however, is grounds for a social snubbing at the very least. (Some young Kindred claim that this “tradition” actually exists only so that elders aren’t forced to reveal how uncomfortable and incompetent they are with modern appliances. They rarely make this claim in front of their elders, though.)
Monomacy
Tradition states that, in years gone by, the Invictus used formal duels, contests and trials by ordeal to settle otherwise unsolvable disputes. These duels and ordeals are known collectively as Monomacy. Some members of the covenant believed, as did many mortals in the Middle Ages, that God stepped in and ensured that victory went to the righteous party. Other members simply wanted a means whereby elders could settle personal issues without dragging pawns and even entire domains into the conflict. By the modern nights, the Invictus has largely abandoned its claims of divine right — even the most devout souls have difficulty believing that God takes a direct hand in duels — but it is still practiced by the staunchest supporters of the First Estate when a just cause arises.
Titles and Duties
Kindred who don’t fully understand the Invictus are often surprised to discover that the covenant actually has relatively few official titles and positions. What these outsiders don’t realize is that the Invictus doesn’t feel it needs many new titles, because it considers the standard offices described previously to be its own creations. Most officers hold the same approximate rank in the local Invictus as they do in the domain’s government. That is, an Invictus Prince is likely the leader of the local Invictus, as well. Invictus Primogen and Prisci hold power in the city and covenant. An Invictus Sheriff likely enforces order in the local Invictus as well as in the domain as a whole.In fact, only two titles that do not correspond to political positions are commonly found in Invictus domains.
Inner Circle
In some domains where the Invictus is not fully in control, or at least where many domain offices are held by members of other covenants, the covenant needs a body of leadership that does not consist entirely of officers of the city government. This is called the Inner Circle. Its members can be anyone, from the Prince and some of the Primogen to Kindred who hold no official position in the city at all. They set policy for the local Invictus and are always on the lookout for opportunities to advance their own positions. Strongly Invictus-dominant cities rarely have an Inner Circle. An Inner Circle exists only where the city government and the faction power structure are not one and the same. Further, this Invictusspecific “sub-Primogen” is possible only in the largest domains, where the Kindred population can support such a gathering.
Judex
Sometimes members of the Invictus come into conflict with one another. Under such circumstances, most members agree that turning to outsiders (such as city officials) for resolution is a poor idea, as it makes the covenant appear divided. Monomacy is reserved for only the gravest disputes, since few elders are willing to put their unlives on the line just to settle a disagreement. Most cities with more than the tiniest Invictus presence therefore have a Judex. Her job is, quite simply, to rule on disputes between Invictus Kindred. Once the parties involved agree to such mediation, the Judex’s ruling is binding, even over those Kindred who would normally hold greater authority (such as a Prince). Judices are chosen from among city officials (in Invictus-dominant domains), members of the Inner Circle or, at worst, from among the most respected Invictus present. Some cities have a standing Judex, and the position is usually filled by a candidate on whom the Prince and Primogen can agree (or whom the Prince can force the Primogen to acknowledge). Other domains choose their mediators on a conflict-byconflict basis. Tradition states that the Judex in such instances must be chosen by a respected Kindred who has no obvious ties to either party. Doing so is often more difficult than it sounds, and many such domains have adopted the custom of allowing a Judex, as his final act, to appoint the next Judex, well before anyone knows what problem may arise next.
Culture
Coterie Members
One might wonder what members of other covenants have to offer an Invictus Kindred. After all, the covenant has elders who usually conspire to keep it in a comfortable position, and its finely defined hierarchy cannot be ascended with outside help. Also, a good deal of Invictus Kindred tend to be arrogant and consider their covenant to be more exclusive than any of the others — mainly, they say, because you need brains and skill to succeed in the Invictus but can get by in the other covenants with simple devotion. It is a wonder, then, that anyone wants to be in a coterie with the stereotypical member of the Invictus.Not all Invictus Kindred are arrogant elitists, however, and even those who are can sometimes find common ground with members of other covenants. As the covenant is more of a political organization than a system of belief, Invictus Kindred tend to be more functionally diverse than members of other covenants, with much broader interests. And the Invictus is more than willing to form partnerships in order to increase influence or Resources. Such partnerships often arise when the cornerstone diversity of the Invictus fails. As history has shown, the Invictus and The Lancea Sanctum complement each other quite well, with the spirituality of The Lancea Sanctum aiding the worldliness of the Invictus. The Lancea Sanctum is not the only covenant that has something to offer, though. Much as the Invictus is loath to admit it, its members often have trouble truly relating to mortals instead of seeing them as Resources. In a situation where empathy with Humanity is required, an Invictus Kindred might seek the aid of a Carthian. Also, the secular approach of the Invictus often leaves individual members lacking when it comes to esoteric knowledge about the Kindred, so an inquisitive Invictus Kindred might be drawn to a Dragon or Acolyte.
Interestingly enough, most Invictus Kindred join cosmopolitan coteries in cities where the Invictus isn’t dominant or where it contests power with other covenants. In cities where the Invictus holds power, most members are focused on social Climbing. Many Invictus Kindred understand that relationships with Kindred from other covenants can be a benefit, though. Such Kindred hope to score points with their own covenant by acting as a liaison with other covenants, banking on the belief that Kindred society isn’t static and that other factions might gain power. In other domains, many Invictus Kindred try to “get in good” with the covenant that holds power, while others eschew political power in the Kindred world and recognize the kind of Resources that members of other covenants can offer. Instead of the political power about which their covenant is so often obsessed, such Kindred might decide that occult knowledge or knowledge of the Kindred condition is power and pursue this avenue. Alternatively, they might take a more Carthian approach to Humanity, hoping to gain an edge in battles of influence by neglecting hierarchical rank (and the enemies that come with such a rank) and just accruing Resources.
One thing that redeems Invictus Kindred in the eyes of their peers is that Kindred of other covenants who join in a cosmopolitan coterie with one rarely have to listen to proselytizing. The First Estate makes no grand speeches about political equality or the power of the Old Ways or the need for adherence to the teachings of Longinus’ laws. Instead, most Invictus Kindred focus on matters at hand and leave political and religious discussions for others. As a matter of fact, although Invictus Kindred tout the virtues of their covenant, they rarely try to convert their follow coterie-mates. From a very pragmatic standpoint, they don’t want the competition. The Invictus hierarchy has only so many rungs on the ladder and it would be foolish to bring in more members to share those rungs. Of course, Invictus Kindred are not perfect coterie-mates. They tend to think of themselves as leaders. Even if they aren’t, they often take their fellows for granted and are not above using (or even abusing) their supposed Allies. After all, that is the way the Invictus works.
If in good standing with the covenant, an Invictus Kindred can often contribute surprising Resources to a coterie, in the form of both mortal Resources and pull in Kindred politics. Those who are on the bottom have the advantage that very few covenant leaders care at all what they are doing. Although they might not have much political and social pull, they are still likely to bring the pragmatic mindset and can-do spirit of the Invictus to the coterie. Others might also consider their Invictus coterie-mate an “in” into the covenant, even if she is at the bottom of the pecking order.
Since most Invictus Kindred are groomed by their sires for a “career” in the First Estate, they tend to make excellent leaders, organizers, bureaucrats or advisors. Of course, this also leads to situations in which an Invictus Kindred in a cosmopolitan coterie is merely using her coterie-mates to further her own goals. Such “use and discard” mentality can be exceptionally dangerous if the Invictus Kindred is coarse or rude; she might end up making enemies of her former Allies. With that in mind, some Invictus who are members of a cosmopolitan coterie only to use the others try to divorce themselves from their former coteries less dramatically once they cannot get any more out of them.
In general, the Invictus approves of cosmopolitan coteries almost as much as the Carthians do. With no central spiritual dogma, the Invictus is less worried that members will be exposed to unorthodox ideas from anyone except the Carthians. A certain level of confidence also applies here, as most Invictus leaders consider the covenant so attractive that no Kindred could be seduced away from it. After all, the Invictus is the premiere of the covenants. In cities where the Invictus is strong, the leaders often encourage cosmopolitan coteries in order to keep an eye on rival covenants and to promote an air of cooperation that might make the other covenants believe that they have some influence. In cities where the Invictus holds less power, mixed-covenant coteries represent an excellent way of gleaning information about the stronger covenants.
Nomads
The hidebound undead aristocracy of the Invictus send out a very mixed message regarding nomads and those vampires who take their Requiem to the road. On the one hand, roaming is frowned upon, to put it mildly. To the point where strangers might get staked by the authorities on general principles and left to rot in Torpor for years, because at least that way they can’t go around stirring up trouble.Strangers and ramblers and sudden changes — these things threaten stability, and the Invictus revere stability like it was God. The covenant’s dim view of travelers applies to both its own members and those of other covenants. A Carthian or Dragon popping up from nowhere is likely to be hounded straight into Final Death if she isn’t careful, and even Sanctified Legates are treated with a certain amount of Suspicion.
It is therefore established that according to the Invictus party line, travel is bad and roamers are not to be trusted. Yet the Invictus have perhaps more members roaming on official business at any one time than any other covenant.
Do as I Say, Not as I Do
The problem is simple. The Invictus used to be a tight, focused, well-structured body with tight and reliable lines of communication. That was just after Rome fell.The Invictus of the modern World of Darkness is a ramshackle, widely dispersed, internally contradictory body that still attempts to operate by precepts and procedures laid down when everyone in London was speaking Latin. Spread across an entire planet, it relies on methods of communication that mortal society abandoned decades or centuries ago, following a vision of Kindred order and obedience that was doomed even before the Camarilla imploded.
For all its inefficiency, however, the Invictus is among the most powerful and influential of all the major covenants — in part because it knows it’s inefficient. The leaders of the Invictus aren’t stupid, just conservative almost beyond human comprehension. They know that the old methods are inefficient and unwieldy and stretched beyond the breaking point, that the rest of the world has moved on and accepted the new. That doesn’t make them want to abandon the old ways, which by dint of being tradition are of course intrinsically better than any passing fad of the kine and the more degenerate Kindred. They recognize, however, that the system has problems — many problems — and those problems need to be fixed and controlled, whatever the cost.
Since the Kindred are spread across the face of the world, that means that those myriad freestanding Invictus domains scattered across the world have their own interpretations of the old traditions. Like assassins granted automatic forgiveness for their sins while employed by the Popes of old, or like members of every aristocracy in history, the agents of the Invictus are considered above the local laws they enforce. It’s a position ripe for corruption and abuse, but the elders of the Invictus expect that; it’s an acceptable price to pay, and abuse of power is a long-standing tradition of the Kindred.
Because of this, the Invictus have dozens upon dozens of mobile agents and operatives, both elders and neonates, who claim near carte blanche to move around the world doing whatever needs to be done. Their crimes are ignored and forgiven, so long as they make sure that the apparatus of Invictus influence and power continues to operate and the covenant is kept stable. Meanwhile, Sanctified templars are scolded for stepping outside the strict boundaries of their domain, wandering Circle mystics are arrested and forgotten in oubliettes beneath city sewers, and Carthian troublemakers are snatched up and diablerized as soon as they set a foot wrong.
Public Virtue, Private Vice
The scions of the Invictus retain power and influence because they’re not afraid to be hypocrites. Part of that hypocrisy is the dual face of the mobile agents and ramblers the Invictus employs. The Invictus acts with pomp and ceremony, proclaiming its presence and activities, demanding respect and obedience — except when it doesn’t. Sometimes, propping up the work of empire is best done in the open, where the masses can see your power demonstrated. Other times it’s best as murder and sabotage and cover-ups in the shadows, where everything can be denied or blamed on your enemies.Some would say that such acts violate the central tenets of the Invictus philosophy, as a covenant based upon the recognition of merit and the respect of the Kindred. Those who would say that are so naïve that it’s a wonder they survived their first night of unlife. The Invictus has one central tenet, whether or not that tenet is publicly acknowledged, and that is this: Stability must be preserved at all costs, and the Invictus must remain the most stable of all Kindred covenants. Obviously in a modern context this doesn’t mean that each petty domains supports a single, centralized leading body of the covenant. Rather, it means that each domain must stand on its own. If it doesn’t, it undermines the credibility of other sovereign domains.
The pursuit of that much-desired stability is made possible by lies, hypocrisy and betrayals. Agents make overtures of peace one night and diablerize their erstwhile Allies the next. Things are done that are regrettable but necessary, covered up and forgiven. Perhaps the main reason the other Kindred covenants mistrust the Invictus is that they envy the faction’s ability to put expediency above ideology.
Those Who Proclaim
The roving agents of the Invictus, both public and secret, are divided into two camps, depending on their duties. The first are the Voice of the Invictus, or Proclaimers, those who disseminate information and orders to Invictus members and supporters. Because the traditionalists of the covenant disdain (and fear) the tools of modern communication, messages and directives must be transported physically, rather than by phone or email. Minor items and missives may be entrusted to a mail service, but anything more important requires the personal attention of a roving agent.There are several different titles and duties amongst the Voice, both on the obvious and hidden sides.
Vauntcourier, Pursuivant, Executor, Glossator
Spies
Then, of course, there are spies. The Invictus has many spies, working within every covenant, every clan and bloodline, every faction and court. It even spies upon its own members — if anything, there are more spies ferreting out dissent and instability within the covenant than without. Most spies are settled agents rather than roamers, as they require a stable niche within Kindred society from which to gather information. Roaming spies are those primarily concerned with physical information, rather than social; they observe from afar, intercepting messages or mapping out relationships between multiple groups and entities. Roamers may also meet with their landed counterparts to collect information, compare notes, deliver new orders… or occasionally get rid of an operative who’s no longer considered an asset to the covenant.
Those Who Enforce
There is thought and then there is action. There is the Voice and there is the Deed. Those agents classed as Proclaimers traffic in information, whether disseminating or collecting it. Their counterparts are the Will of the Invictus, the Enforcers, charged with acting on that information and enforcing the laws and rules of the Invictus upon its members — and on any other Kindred that should wander into their purview.Like the Voice, the Will is divided into different orders, some public and some secret.
Proctor, Amicus Curiae, The Misericordia, The Catechism
History
Foreign Relations
Relations with Others
Much of the political maneuvering of the First Estate is nothing more than management of other Kindred (or, even more generally, other creatures). Order is the state of affairs with which the Invictus is most comfortable, as order promotes rational behavior and adherence to The Traditions. Accordingly, the First Estate is willing to go to great lengths to maintain order, even if doing so brings Invictus members into conflict with others. The irony of conflicts for the sake of stability is not lost on the Invictus, generally speaking, but the wise aren’t shaken by such short-sightedness. Kindred of Society have all eternity to achieve a lasting order — to maneuver, hammer and finesse the pieces into place — and all eternity to enjoy that order when it is finally achieved. Tonight’s conflicts lead to tomorrow night’s Pax Invictus.The Other Covenants
Truth be told, many Invictus would leap at the chance to rid themselves of the other covenants. (As it turns out, Invictus members have done exactly that in some cities.) In the eyes of the First Estate’s fanatics, none of the other covenants have the correct understanding of the Requiem and the uses to which it should be put. The covenants are all wayward organizations — misguided but too headstrong to accept the First Estate’s wise guidance. From the perspective of these extremists, 99% of all Masquerade breaches are attributable to other clans, and only the presence, stern guidance and constant effort on the part of the Invictus prevents the world of mortals from learning of the existence of vampires.More moderate Society vampires see the strategic advantage of a fractured civilization. Not every Kindred must be ruled explicitly. Not every citizen must be directly controlled to be a subject. The Invictus can govern the Sanctified congregation by influencing its Priests. The Invictus can control Acolytes by framing the religious debates at Elysium. The Invictus can define the philosophical territory of the Carthians by surrendering unwanted ground to them — let them strut and crow on their dung hill. When the Invictus defines the negative spaces it gives up in the composition of the city to the other covenants, it exerts its control over them.
When categorizing themselves into other covenants, Kindred climb aboard wagons which the Invictus can influence by dealing with their drivers, the roads and the signposts. When busying themselves with their own dogmas and strange goals, the Dragons and the Acolytes grow accustomed to the assumptions the Invictus insinuates into their Requiems: that Society vampires govern and politick. The Kindred of other covenants do all Society Kindred the favor of bowing out of the rat race within the Invictus.
To its credit, the Invictus accepts the other covenants (in most cities, anyway) with what it sees as a noble degree of forbearance (although this forbearance has been known to fall by the wayside at times when dealing with the Carthian Movement). Certainly, the First Estate puts pressure on those other covenants, but one can only wonder what kind of disaster would unfold if the Invictus did not apply this pressure. By the exacting standards of the First Estate, all other covenants are chaotic, undisciplined aggregates of vampires who are constantly in danger of egregiously violating the Masquerade or otherwise triggering the collapse of Kindred society. Many Invictus vampires believe themselves to be members of the most rational, mature covenant in existence. As members of the First Estate perceive the situation, they could be much more aggressive about pushing the First Estate’s rigidly rational agenda, but they choose to work through diplomatic channels for the moment so as not to create a rift between the First Estate and the rest of Kindred society.
The Others
Other Kindred are hardly the only others the Invictus deals with. The First Estate has long known of the existence of other supernatural entities, some more directly than others.Because of its long history as a source of stability and order within Kindred society, when something odd or alarming pops up in a domain — a mystery, a menace, a monster — Invictus members, as the order-bringers, are often expected to take care of it. It is the burden of the crown, the cost of rulership, and one the Invictus pays willingly, if not enthusiastically. Then again, given how often the Invictus persuades or provokes others into doing the covenant’s dirty work anyway, the burden the Invictus bears may not be all that heavy. On those occasions when the burden has fallen on Invictus elders, however, First Estate members have taken the challenges and met the enemies under whatever circumstances were required. And those moments have made the Invictus the subject of legends that extend even into the modern nights.
That said, the First Estate would still much rather avoid the supernatural when possible. The Invictus has cast its lot with the rational world of order, influence and wealth. The supernatural, especially in some of its manifestations, is a glaring affront to the order and control the Invictus cultivates.
Other covenants have faulted the First Estate for lingering in a state of denial and not being quicker to act against supernatural threats when they arise, but the fact remains that when the Invictus does wake from its complacency to take notice of such things, it acts decisively. Once brought to bear on an enemy, the First Estate’s patience, guile and experience often allow the Invictus to annihilate enemies that would easily beat a similarsized group of Kindred from another covenant.
Witch-Hunters
The stalking of predators by prey is a very disordered state of affairs and, hating disorder as they do, the Invictus dreads witch-hunters accordingly.Given the length of time it takes to climb up to the peak of the First Estate’s hierarchy, it’s no wonder that witch-hunters elicit the nigh-incoherent rage they do from some Invictus elders. They damned sure didn’t climb that pyramid just to be knocked off by some uppity morsel. And so it is that, when they discover the existence of a witch-hunter in their domain, Invictus elders declare all-out war.
Many Society leaders see vampire-hunters as the only “true” enemy — never to be trusted, not to be bargained with and pointless to hate. Vampire-hunters are a symptom of cracks in the Masquerade, and it is not the fault of Humanity when the light shines through those cracks. It’s the responsibility of the Damned to protect themselves while they reside in the mortal world; that means avoiding mortal revelations, combating witch-hunters and preventing the creation of new witch-hunters. “Do not underestimate them, do not hate them,” goes one oft-quoted Princely speech on the subject, “but do fear them and do put a stop to them. We have no one to blame for their existence but ourselves.”
Centuries of experience have taught the First Estate that the best way to deal with hunters is with alacrity and unassailable force — anything else gives them time to spread their message, make converts and worsen the breach of the Masquerade. Common Invictus thinking suggests that elders launch the following three-pronged attack against witch-hunters the moment their activities are uncovered:
Isolate
Compromise their ability to attack further with multiple stacked waves of influence attacks. Dispatch mortals to deal with a mortal threat. Hit the witch-hunters and hit them hard. Have them arrested, hospitalized, institutionalized. Destroy their reputations through concerted smear campaigns. Frame them for heinous crimes. (Reworking the memories of children is a particularly effective means of accomplishing this.) Strip the witchhunters of any credibility or sheen of nobility that they may have established, and others will be less likely to follow their mad cause. Remove the witch-hunters from their bases of operations and, by extension, from any stockpiles of weapons they may possess. This is often the easiest step, as witch-hunters often act outside the law in their vigilante crusades against the Kindred.
Cover-up
Once the witch-hunter has been taken away (or forced to flee), send in teams of competent neonates and ancillae to locate and remove anything that points to the existence of the Kindred, including any unusual or noteworthy weapons that the hunters were using. All books, computers, software, storage devices (from cassette tapes to DVDs to external hard drives), journals and the like must be destroyed, or at least removed. If you can find the hunter’s passwords (or pry them out of him), you can pose as him on the Internet and further ruin his reputation there. More important than smearing is just being rid of any papers or records the witchhunter may have kept. Fire does an excellent job of this, but the Masquerade must be observed: too many suspicious fires following a group of witch-hunters will begin to call down unwanted police attention.
Exterminate
Once the first two steps have been completed, dispatch whatever assassins are necessary to discretely kill the hunter. Again, use mortal retainers if at all possible. If the hunter has been placed in any sort of institution (jail, madhouse, hospital), suicide is always a believable resolution, and the workers at such places make so little money that you don’t need much to bribe them into a course of action of your choosing. Drug overdoses are easy enough to arrange, either through use of Dominate or simply by providing the hunter with unusually highgrade, uncut drugs that lead the target to do away with himself. Given the frequency with which witch-hunters abuse chemicals, this mode of execution hardly raises eyebrows. Failing these, other methods of discreet extermination also work: traffic accidents, house fires, drownings and so on. And, of course, never forget the elegant simplicity of simply having someone disappear.
Werewolves
Centuries of oral histories, recorded dealings and popular wisdom have led the wise among the Invictus to see that no one way of dealing with werewolves is correct. They are too many, too varied and too difficult to summarize politically to be easily categorized. In theory, this unpredictability spells trouble for the Invictus. In practice, the covenant has managed some remarkable diplomatic feats with the Lupines.The key to understanding the Invictus outlook on werewolves lies in a realistic Perception of the threat Lupines pose to Kindred. A werewolf with a personal motive for murder can be a threat to some Kindred, but Lupine society, with its own hidden wars and complex culture, is in a thankful stalemate with Kindred society. Many werewolves seem relieved to have one flank free of supernatural enemies, and the Invictus can provide that. The First Estate can be the peacemakers between Kindred and Lupines.
Wolves and Masks
Does the Masquerade apply to the ranks of Lupines? By the reckoning of the Invictus: absolutely. The unfortunate truth is that the strict virginity of the Masquerade was lost long ago. Werewolves know vampires exist.What isn’t gone forever is the ability to control and limit the depth of the truth known by werewolves at large. Modern Invictus thinking sometimes sees Lupine society as a potentially hostile foreign nation threatened by the same ignorant superpower: mortal society. Thus, cooperation is often advantageous, but the foreigners don’t need to know Kindred secrets. A certain amount of truth has made it through the Masquerade to the Lupines, but that doesn’t excuse subsequent leaks of facts.
Certainly, such an arrangement is not always possible. In many cities, the Invictus has no guiding policy with werewolves except to deal with them on a case-by-case basis. Experience has shown this to be an extremely successful long-term strategy, as a single Invictus court may deal with several generations of Lupine leaders.
Invictus diplomacy works when the Kindred understand what both Kindred and Lupines want: to avoid the world of hurt that comes with a mortal city alerted to the monsters in its ranks. The knack of the Invictus to misguide mortal institutions and cover up crimes is perhaps the key to their peaceful relations with werewolves. And the trick to maintaining the calm of the kine is to avoid unnecessary contact between Kindred and Lupines.
Thus many Invictus encounters with werewolves come in the aftermath of some problem or clash between hotheaded individual monsters or between the “day world” and the night. So, despite the policy of defusing problems before they explode, the Invictus do sometimes have to deal with murderous and hostile werewolves.
When the issue of Lupine predation comes up in a domain, more often then not, the Kindred of the city look to the Invictus to take care of the problem — or to reveal how it has been successfully overcome in the past. The First Estate, after all, is the covenant that has made its name and earned its position by providing Kindred with stability and security. Ostensibly, that stability is the whole reason the Invictus occupies the noble position it does among the Damned.
And so, like Roman centurions forced to hunt down wild beasts to keep citizens safe, members of the First Estate sometimes find themselves taking care of the matter directly.
Mortal Entanglements
For all that werewolves are ferocious and terrifying, they are also flesh and Bone. As spiritual warriors and agents of two worlds, they are virtually unstoppable by the average Kindred. But as men and women with lives and goals in the same cities, with the same fears of exposure as vampires, they are touchable.
In their mortal guises, werewolves can be framed for crimes, evicted from their homes and harassed enough to make them leave a particular Invictus-held domain. Under such circumstances, the Invictus is likely to treat a rogue Lupine just as it would a witch-hunter: as a volatile threat to the Masquerade that must be contained and neutralized. The key difference is that a mortal vampire-hunter wants to reveal the truth of vampirism to the rest of his kind, but is afraid to do so, while a Lupine has little interest in being revealed to the world at large for what he is.
Thus, the Invictus can raise the stakes against hostile Lupines with more and more involved mortal entanglements and investigations, until they are forced to either fight or fold. A public fight brings other werewolves to pull on their leash, while the Invictus make use of their centuries of experience to disappear from the scene.
Traps
Somewhat more complicated is the possibility of setting a trap for a Lupine, making him easier to combat. Despite the terrifying combat prowess of Lupines, they have both limits and weaknesses that the Invictus can exploit. Since time and money are both available to the Invictus, they may wait to take action against enemy Lupines until the covenant is able to engineer a suitable trap. Lured into a steel-reinforced vault or a concrete cell, a werewolf is just as helpless as most mortals. Expert practitioners of Protean are ideal agents for this kind of duty, as they can lure the Lupine into place and dissolve into vapor when the trap is sprung. Fearsome masters of Nightmare may even be able to Herd a werewolf into trap.
One of the benefits to trapping, rather than killing, a Lupine is that it gives the Kindred a rare opportunity to ransom (and possibly feed from) the creature. The blood of a werewolf is reputed to be incredibly potent, but the life of a werewolf may be even more valuable to its packmates. Handing over a wanted or beloved ally to area Lupines can net the Invictus two things more valuable than magic blood: a favor owed in return and the respectful caution of werewolves in the future.
Hunting Parties
Perhaps the least favored of all the techniques the Invictus uses to deal with combative Lupines is the hunting party. This approach constitutes a last-ditch effort when every other attempt has failed. The Invictus resorts to this tactic only if the werewolf is actively preying on Kindred or somehow imperiling the Masquerade. Under these circumstances, the Invictus puts together a team of its most accomplished (or foolhardy) combatants, draws up a detailed battle plan and takes the fight to the enemy. Raw battles are perilous flirtations with boundary between secrecy and recognition by mortals, but sometimes a single, controllable engagement is preferable to the gradual accumulation of Suspicion brought on by unchecked werewolves.
These hunts tend to become the stuff of Society legend. Members of the Invictus are fully aware that Kindred are at a disadvantage when facing off against Lupines, but the First Estate stacks the deck in their favor to gain the advantages of surprise, expert strategy, careful preparation and numerical superiority. Much of the work that leads to victory takes place well before the swords are drawn, so to speak.
This somewhat-desperate approach was once more common, back when cities were smaller, fewer and farther apart. Rumor has it that some old-world Invictus Princes possess entire books of strategies assembled to deal with hostile Lupines. These tomes are amended after every violent clash between Kindred and Lupines to keep tonight’s vampires from having to relearn the lessons of those past. Although such books are rare, it’s common knowledge among Invictus members that the First Estate has made use of such books in Europe, Africa and the Americas, and the Invictus has come out ahead in several conflicts that should have been easy victories for the Lupines.
Mages
The Invictus fears mages in a way it doesn’t fear werewolves, because while werewolves are direct, mages are inscrutable. The chilling ability of witchcraft and magic to undermine the accepted truths of society and invisibly usurp control is terrifying to many Invictus leaders. A worst-case attack by werewolves might still drive Kindred society together, pressuring it into a more tightly knit culture; the Invictus could accept that. A worstcase war against mages could unravel the trust and appearances vampire society relies on, pulling the covenants apart.As with werewolves, the best solution that smart Invictus strategists have come up with is to avoid defeat by avoiding the war. The terrible difference here is that the Invictus still has little confidence in its ability to do that.
What is known is that one mage — or even a single cabal — can be manageable. Mages have the same fears, shortcomings and blood as mundane mortals. A mage drained will die. Thus, the Invictus is most comfortable dealing with mages in the smallest possible units. As long as Kindred conflicts with mages are kept personal and petty, the threat to Kindred society can be minimized. When hateful generalizations arise between mage societies and Kindred kind, trouble follows.
As with mortals, the best protection that any vampire has against a mage is secrecy. Though the Masquerade has long since been broken between mages and vampires, the Invictus insists on holding the pieces together. The Invictus believes that, while individual partnerships with mages can be profoundly beneficial, no vampire should ever surrender any secret or insight to a mage. Let them earn it. Slow the leak.
A mage that comes looking will see through even the best Kindred deception. The best strategy, then, is to avoid attracting a mage’s Suspicion altogether.
Stranger Things
Much as the vampires of the Invictus would like it to be otherwise, the world is not a particularly rational place. There are things roaming the night more disturbing than the blood-drinking dead. The Invictus’ response to these things is to err on the side of caution. Conflict that can be avoided through simple good judgment should be.The compartmentalization of Kindred society is an advantage, and the Invictus know how to make the best use of any advantage. While the Invictus might employ investigators to gauge the level of threat (to the Masquerade or to the common Damned), it is not in the covenant’s best interest to reach beyond its grasp. Kindred of other covenants are better suited to the opposition and investigation of occult threats. In this way, they are the tools that Society leaders use to deal with such problems.
Savvy Invictus troubleshooters know how to introduce another covenant to a mutual threat in the right way. Some coteries want to be flattered: “We didn’t know who else would be able to make sense of this. We need you.” Some covenant leaders want to be deferred to: “That’s all we know. What do you make of it?” Some Kindred can be exploited: “We propose an arrangement: you get to keep whatever evidence your agents collect, but you must report all of your findings to our man on the case.” Done correctly, the Invictus can use another covenant and even net themselves a favor in the process: “We didn’t have to bring this to you. Perhaps the Dragons would make better sense of it?”
Whenever the Invictus can be seen orchestrating a successful interaction between the covenants — or between Kindred society and the world at large — they gain. Tonight’s loss of face (“We owe tonight’s success to the Acolytes.”) can lead to tomorrow night’s advantage (“If you don’t help us now, the Court will suspect you think you’re above such things.”). Short-term losses are acceptable for long-term victories. When the Invictus gets out of the way and lets the right Kindred solve the domain’s problems, everyone’s place in society is reinforced. The Dragons may understand ghosts, but the Invictus lead Kindred society to survival and triumph.
Tenets of Faith
Philosophy
If the Invictus is devoted to a single philosophy, it must be the notion that power among the Kindred must remain in the hands of those who are worthy of wielding it. In and of itself, that’s not unreasonable. The Kindred are a violent, paranoid, ambitious race. If their society is to have any hope of survival and secrecy, someone has to be in charge. Where other covenants differ with the Invictus’ philosophy is largely in the notion of what “worthy” actually means.The Invictus believes in keeping as much power as possible in its own hands, and in constantly acquiring more. A good member is one who either advances his position in society, or who aids other Invictus Kindred in advancing theirs. Apathetic or ineffective Kindred are tolerated only as lackeys and pawns.
The covenant’s overarching philosophy has spawned several other guidelines, all on the level of unwritten rules. That is, nobody’s going to write them down, but everyone who’s been in the covenant more than a short while knows better than to casually ignore them.
The Invictus Must Be Respected
Without a doubt, the Invictus prefers to announce its presence, yet it isn’t stupid about it. Members of the First Estate are experts at backroom deals and covert schemes, and they keep a secret as well as anyone. If the Invictus holds power in a region, though, it wants the Kindred to know that it’s in charge. Doing so inspires others to flock to its banners; after all, everybody likes being where the power is. Making a public show also helps squash any opposition to the faction’s local goals, since many Kindred are reluctant to take on a member of so powerful a covenant while they would have less objection to challenging, say, a Carthian leader. Finally, displays of power are simply a social convention. The Invictus is extremely hierarchical and very formal. Its members often demand the respect and Status they feel they’re due. Many Invictus Princes and other leaders who choose to hold formal courts announce their covenant allegiance without ever saying the word “Invictus.”
The Invictus, alone among covenants, considers itself to be an actual entity, worthy of admiration. The Carthians tend to eschew oaths of fealty, and The Lancea Sanctum and Circle of the Crone swear oaths to higher powers such as a god or spirit, first and foremost, with obedience to the covenant second. The Invictus alone not only demands oaths of loyalty to local covenant leaders, but considers them paramount above any and all other allegiances.
It’s probably this practice that creates the illusion that so many Princes are Invictus. Because Invictus leaders often make such a point of their covenant affiliation, more so than those of other covenants, the First Estate is associated with the position.
Mortals Are Power
While all the covenants understand the need for the Masquerade, the Invictus focuses most heavily on not merely infiltrating but manipulating and influencing mortal society. In the covenant’s quest for political dominance, it wastes no opportunity — and six billion kine represent quite an opportunity. Most elder Kindred of all covenants wield some amount of influence in local affairs or among businessmen, but when one pictures the vampire sitting at the heart of a web of corporate, political, criminal and social connections— a rare but extant stereotype — one probably pictures a member of the Invictus.
“Regnabimus intemporaliter!” (“We will rule forever!”)
Type
Political, Faction / Party
Alternative Names
First Estate
Subsidiary Organizations
Related Traditions
Related Professions
Invictus: Titles and Offices
Concerning...
Golconda: Golconda is a childish fable for the weak-willed and weak-minded. Such a blessed state could not exist. Anyone who gives credence to such tales deserves mockery.So the Invictus Are Bad Guys, Right?
Hell no. Well, not unless that’s the role they play in your chronicle. But the Invictus is no more malevolent or “evil” than any other covenant.The Invictus exists for a very simple reason — to protect the Kindred from themselves, from the horrors of the World of Darkness, from each other, from themselves. An altruistic goal, formulated by philosopher-vampires who once argued in the Roman Senate. The Invictus want only what’s best for vampires around the world.
As far as the covenant is concerned, what’s best for all vampires is the stable government and strict superiority of individual Invictus domains. Every vampire (and mortal) has her place If you know it and keep to it, stability can be sustained forever; the Requiem need never end. If you disagree, well, you’re wrong, and dissent leads to instability, and for the good of all you should be persuaded otherwise or silenced. The Invictus is right, and in the right, and that means everything they do to further their goals is right.
Take out the vampires and the ruthlessness, and what you have resembles almost every Western government in the modern world. Put the ruthlessness back and there are still plenty of realworld governments that could match the Invictus point for point. No, they’re not “bad guys.” Or “good guys.” Feudalism might be outdated, but are the Kindred themselves not creatures of stasis and tradition? They’re simply pragmatic and prepared to go to terrible lengths in order to achieve what may be a noble goal — which makes them great antagonists.
Or protagonists.
Autonomy and the Invictus
If this all seems like a lot, that’s because it is. Many of these offices are outdated remnants of nights long past, holdovers from when the world was smaller and the notion of domain constituted a far greater portion of the known world.These offices and titles imply a central ruling body that no longer exists, if, indeed, it ever did. Much of the weight and esteem accorded to these titles and positions comes from the traditionalism and hidebound conservatism of the Invictus itself. If one city’s Inner Circle is strong enough to enforce its will over outlying areas and even other nearby domains through the Voice and the Will, then by all means it is. On a worldwide level, though, don’t misinterpret to mean that the Invictus as a covenant has one central executive branch that directs all local incarnations of the covenant, sending its minions hither and yon via moonlit highways. While the Invictus may dream of empire, the reality is something far more isolated, local and discrete.
Friendly
Invictus: "Trustworthy but sanctimonious."
Lancea Sanctum: "Overly focused on temporal strength."
The relationship of The Invictus and Lancea Sanctum is based on synergy — each excels at that which the other would rather not be bothered with. Deference should not be confused with a lack of respect, however. Each covenant believes the other fills an important role, but each believes its own role to be somehow more important. Of course, individual Kindred may find either covenant’s role simply more attractive, whether for the archaic beauty of cathedral glass lit up in the dark or the perfect moment that passes as an immortal monster awaits permission to rise from his knees.
Even when these two covenants do not share equal footing in a domain, each traditionally maintains an attitude of allegiance or, at least, non-aggression. Personal quarrels between an Invictus liege and a Sanctified vassal are as common as any other Kindred conflict, but frank hostility between these two ancient orders is extremely uncommon. When the Sanctified wield less influence in a domain, they expand their social networks as far into the ranks of the Carthians, The Unaligned, and even the Dragons as possible without upsetting the local Invictus powermongers too greatly. When The Invictus find themselves outmatched in a domain, the Sanctified may play up the role that covenant has played in the solidification of vampire society and temporal power, casting Invictus elders as the heroes in midnight Sermons and parables. The long history of cooperation and subtle intrigue between the two covenants causes conflicts tonight to be frequently regarded as flukes caused by local individuals who don’t properly understand the dynamic the covenants are supposed to share — or the respect the offending covenant owes to its ancient partner. It’s not that The Invictus are self-serving socialites blinded by temporal concerns, it’s that Prince Groevan is a poor excuse for an Invictus because he doesn’t pay proper respect to his Sanctified counselors.
Nowhere is the division of church and state sharper and more awkward than between the Invictus and The Lancea Sanctum. Some Damned say the Camarilla fractured because its spiritually inclined members, those who had been overwhelmed by an irrational devotion to Longinus, no longer felt that the organization’s secular wings had anything to offer them. The most arrogant amid The Lancea Sanctum (or the proto-covenant it may have been in those nights) actually expected the Invictus to wither without spiritual guidance. But the Sanctified lost stature in the aftermath of the breakup, not the remnant of the Camarilla now calling itself the Invictus — the unconquered — both as a title of pride and as a means of announcing to The Lancea Sanctum that the departure of the Sanctified had not lessened the Invictus in any way.
In truth, the Invictus was reeling from the loss of its Roman spiritual advisors (both Sanctified and pagan), but the covenant, at least the elders and ancillae, refused to acknowledge that anything had changed. Invictus members made brief, concerted efforts to Embrace worthy mortals and continued to meddle in mortal politics, which the Invictus members found was easier to do now that the Sanctified were suddenly quite busy attending to more spiritual matters.
But even centuries after the split, the two covenants found themselves in sometimes uncomfortably close quarters. The fall of the Camarilla was not bitter enough to force the covenants into conflict, but neither was either covenant willing to give up its own autonomy or territory of power to merge again. The two estates may collaborate, conspire or conflict, but they are seldom able to commit. And so it has gone for the last several centuries.
Though the covenants set out on their own paths long ago, they are on a trajectory that sees them jostling one another a great deal, like the antagonistic siblings they are. At this point, both covenants are over their shared history, and yet they seldom seem to be able to leave cities where the other is found.
Truth be told, the relationship between the Invictus and The Lancea Sanctum varies widely from domain to domain, and the tone is often set by the eldest Kindred in the domain. In one French domain, the two covenants are sworn enemies, doing everything in their power to undermine and strangle the other — the only winner there is the Circle of the Crone, which has grown considerably since the two covenants have been at each other’s throats. In other domains, however, many Kindred are loosely affiliated with both sects, and claiming membership in one or the other of the covenants is largely arbitrary.
Circumstances have placed The Lancea Sanctum and the Invictus on a course that sees them drifting, pressing or clashing into each other time and again. Although each covenant has its own clear identity, both the Sanctified and the First Estate also have a long history with each other, and the disentangling of their destinies is not as easily done as it might seem from the dramatic fallings-out, conflicts and philosophical divorces experienced by some of their Damned.
Historically, partnerships between members of these two covenants are quite common. No other covenants enjoy such a long tradition of continuing, effective cooperation. The Invictus Prince and his Sanctified Bishop confidant is a stereotype among the Damned — one so easily accepted that even participants in such partnerships sometimes take their roles for granted.
The cursed cousins of these two institutions have also settled into many nontraditional partnerships over the centuries. A Cardinal declares an Invictus ancilla the proper Prince of the city. An Invictus Prince bestows generous grants of territory on a Bishop recently arrived from a neighboring city. An Invictus Sheriff lends secular authority to a Sanctified Inquisitor. A squad of Invictus men-at-arms give teeth to a Priest’s accusations against a criminal heretic. Invictus Harpies popularize a faith-healing evangelist.
Though exceptions do exist, tradition, habit, or social pressures push most Sanctified-Invictus partnerships toward an interpretation of the medieval relationship of the Christian church and the aristocracy. These two covenants, like the mortal First and Second Estates of nights past, are the legs holding up the body of Kindred society. Though some vampires say The Invictus are the head and the Sanctified are the heart, such speakers are over-simplifying the situation. In truth, The Invictus and the Lancea Sanctum divide responsibilities and powers however local Resources suggest such divisions would be most effective. In some domains that means giving the office of Sheriff to the domain’s fanatically loyal and unshakeable Sanctified, who have the manpower and the muscle to keep the rabble in line. In other domains it means keeping religious fanatics away from secular authority, to prevent religious tensions from turning into outright violence.
The two covenants, then, might just be seen as two styles of reward and esteem structures offered in parallel as a means of getting the best from Kindred with different personal priorities. The allegiance of the two Estates allows the covenant leadership to stop unwanted feuds and conflicts before they begin — to choose which skirmishes will actually be allowed to take place, and which the allied covenants can win without even fighting.
Lancea Sanctum: "Overly focused on temporal strength."
The relationship of The Invictus and Lancea Sanctum is based on synergy — each excels at that which the other would rather not be bothered with. Deference should not be confused with a lack of respect, however. Each covenant believes the other fills an important role, but each believes its own role to be somehow more important. Of course, individual Kindred may find either covenant’s role simply more attractive, whether for the archaic beauty of cathedral glass lit up in the dark or the perfect moment that passes as an immortal monster awaits permission to rise from his knees.
Even when these two covenants do not share equal footing in a domain, each traditionally maintains an attitude of allegiance or, at least, non-aggression. Personal quarrels between an Invictus liege and a Sanctified vassal are as common as any other Kindred conflict, but frank hostility between these two ancient orders is extremely uncommon. When the Sanctified wield less influence in a domain, they expand their social networks as far into the ranks of the Carthians, The Unaligned, and even the Dragons as possible without upsetting the local Invictus powermongers too greatly. When The Invictus find themselves outmatched in a domain, the Sanctified may play up the role that covenant has played in the solidification of vampire society and temporal power, casting Invictus elders as the heroes in midnight Sermons and parables. The long history of cooperation and subtle intrigue between the two covenants causes conflicts tonight to be frequently regarded as flukes caused by local individuals who don’t properly understand the dynamic the covenants are supposed to share — or the respect the offending covenant owes to its ancient partner. It’s not that The Invictus are self-serving socialites blinded by temporal concerns, it’s that Prince Groevan is a poor excuse for an Invictus because he doesn’t pay proper respect to his Sanctified counselors.
Nowhere is the division of church and state sharper and more awkward than between the Invictus and The Lancea Sanctum. Some Damned say the Camarilla fractured because its spiritually inclined members, those who had been overwhelmed by an irrational devotion to Longinus, no longer felt that the organization’s secular wings had anything to offer them. The most arrogant amid The Lancea Sanctum (or the proto-covenant it may have been in those nights) actually expected the Invictus to wither without spiritual guidance. But the Sanctified lost stature in the aftermath of the breakup, not the remnant of the Camarilla now calling itself the Invictus — the unconquered — both as a title of pride and as a means of announcing to The Lancea Sanctum that the departure of the Sanctified had not lessened the Invictus in any way.
In truth, the Invictus was reeling from the loss of its Roman spiritual advisors (both Sanctified and pagan), but the covenant, at least the elders and ancillae, refused to acknowledge that anything had changed. Invictus members made brief, concerted efforts to Embrace worthy mortals and continued to meddle in mortal politics, which the Invictus members found was easier to do now that the Sanctified were suddenly quite busy attending to more spiritual matters.
But even centuries after the split, the two covenants found themselves in sometimes uncomfortably close quarters. The fall of the Camarilla was not bitter enough to force the covenants into conflict, but neither was either covenant willing to give up its own autonomy or territory of power to merge again. The two estates may collaborate, conspire or conflict, but they are seldom able to commit. And so it has gone for the last several centuries.
Though the covenants set out on their own paths long ago, they are on a trajectory that sees them jostling one another a great deal, like the antagonistic siblings they are. At this point, both covenants are over their shared history, and yet they seldom seem to be able to leave cities where the other is found.
Truth be told, the relationship between the Invictus and The Lancea Sanctum varies widely from domain to domain, and the tone is often set by the eldest Kindred in the domain. In one French domain, the two covenants are sworn enemies, doing everything in their power to undermine and strangle the other — the only winner there is the Circle of the Crone, which has grown considerably since the two covenants have been at each other’s throats. In other domains, however, many Kindred are loosely affiliated with both sects, and claiming membership in one or the other of the covenants is largely arbitrary.
Circumstances have placed The Lancea Sanctum and the Invictus on a course that sees them drifting, pressing or clashing into each other time and again. Although each covenant has its own clear identity, both the Sanctified and the First Estate also have a long history with each other, and the disentangling of their destinies is not as easily done as it might seem from the dramatic fallings-out, conflicts and philosophical divorces experienced by some of their Damned.
Historically, partnerships between members of these two covenants are quite common. No other covenants enjoy such a long tradition of continuing, effective cooperation. The Invictus Prince and his Sanctified Bishop confidant is a stereotype among the Damned — one so easily accepted that even participants in such partnerships sometimes take their roles for granted.
The cursed cousins of these two institutions have also settled into many nontraditional partnerships over the centuries. A Cardinal declares an Invictus ancilla the proper Prince of the city. An Invictus Prince bestows generous grants of territory on a Bishop recently arrived from a neighboring city. An Invictus Sheriff lends secular authority to a Sanctified Inquisitor. A squad of Invictus men-at-arms give teeth to a Priest’s accusations against a criminal heretic. Invictus Harpies popularize a faith-healing evangelist.
Though exceptions do exist, tradition, habit, or social pressures push most Sanctified-Invictus partnerships toward an interpretation of the medieval relationship of the Christian church and the aristocracy. These two covenants, like the mortal First and Second Estates of nights past, are the legs holding up the body of Kindred society. Though some vampires say The Invictus are the head and the Sanctified are the heart, such speakers are over-simplifying the situation. In truth, The Invictus and the Lancea Sanctum divide responsibilities and powers however local Resources suggest such divisions would be most effective. In some domains that means giving the office of Sheriff to the domain’s fanatically loyal and unshakeable Sanctified, who have the manpower and the muscle to keep the rabble in line. In other domains it means keeping religious fanatics away from secular authority, to prevent religious tensions from turning into outright violence.
The two covenants, then, might just be seen as two styles of reward and esteem structures offered in parallel as a means of getting the best from Kindred with different personal priorities. The allegiance of the two Estates allows the covenant leadership to stop unwanted feuds and conflicts before they begin — to choose which skirmishes will actually be allowed to take place, and which the allied covenants can win without even fighting.
Neutral
Invictus: "Disciplined but deluded."
Ordo Dracul: "Strong outside hollow within."
Like The Carthian Movement, The Invictus is concerned with more temporal matters than The Ordo Dracul. Unlike them, however, The Invictus is concerned with maintaining the Status quo, with blocking change. This, obviously, flies in the face of Dragon philosophy. The Invictus potentially holds the most power to change the world of any of the vampiric covenants. Their influence in matters corporate, legal andpolitical give them the ability, if they so desired, to alter the world so drastically that Kindred of other covenants would be scrambling to catch up. This amount of power is tantalizing and a bit frightening to The Ordo Dracul. Some young Dragons who discover how deep Invictus influence really goes in some cities sometimes wish that the First Estate would simply turn Kindred society on its ear so that the Order could study the effects.
In practice, the two covenants can work alongside one another with little problem. The Ordo Dracul doesn’t meddle in mortal affairs often, and The Invictus, while discomfited or intrigued by the notion of The Coils of the Dragon, is for the most part comfortable letting The Ordo Dracul have its privacy. (Better, anyway, to have the Dragons in their private parlors when the time comes for discussion on the philosophy of change). The Ordo Dracul respects The Invictus’ emphasis on traditionalism and propriety, and Dragons dwelling in Invictus cities often adopt some of the First Estate’s conventions of etiquette into their own observances. The Ordo Dracul especially favors the Recitation of Lineage, although the Dragons usually list mentors and students in place of sires and childer.
The Invictus don’t much care about Wyrm’s Nests, and so The Ordo Dracul doesn’t normally have to contend with competition from the covenant on a mystical level. In the unfortunate instance that a Wyrm’s Nest is also a desirable locale to The Invictus for some other reason, months of negotiation might ensure (meaning that The Ordo Dracul must sometimes violate The Invictus’ territory — Wyrm’s Nests don’t wait for diplomacy). On the other hand, the great value that Dragons place on Wyrm’s Nests can make them a prized property to The Invictus who wants something from the Order.
If The Ordo Dracul envies The Invictus anything, it’s their rapport with mortals. The First Estate is often better suited to dealing with mortal organizations than with individual people, of course, but the result is still impressive: The Invictus of many domains command great webs of temporal power, encompassing Kindred Regents and manipulators, ghoul agents and mortal dupes all across the world. The Dragon who wants access to mortal technologies, secure locations or protected artifacts may have to go through Invictus channels to get what she wants. Thus the Order works hard to not make an enemy of The Invictus on any grand scale in most domains.
The greatest point of contention between the two covenants is, of course, their completely contradictory philosophies regarding change. Some Dragons despise The Invictus on general principle, wondering how any Kindred, especially neonates, could be stupid enough to join the covenant knowing that the chances for advancement are so slim. Others note how the lofty seat of many Invictus leaders affords them an excellent vantage point the of Kindred and mortal worlds and how that magnificent position is wasted on stagnant elders desperately avoiding any change to their Requiems.
So near to the order of the Invictus and yet so far, The Ordo Dracul represents (in the eyes of fanatical Society Kindred) a serious failure on the part of the Invictus. To an extremist’s way of thinking, every single Dragon should have been an easy convert to the Invictus, but somewhere along the way, something went horribly awry. The First Estate was distracted when it should have been attentive.
The Invictus does not share the Dragons’ fascination with change or “redemption.” On the contrary, the Invictus is certain that Damnation is forever, and the best that can be done is to accrue as much power as possible to ease the weight of the ages. Kindred do not change and, ideally, neither should the cities they rule.
Many a member of the Invictus, however, those from European domains in particular, still entertains long-term intentions of annexing a local Ordo Dracul chapter. Invictus members may see The Coils of the Dragon as party tricks, heresies or secret weapons, but they’re exceedingly useful whatever they are. The Invictus could put them to good use.
In many domains, The Ordo Dracul is treated as a society adjacent to the Invictus — a secret investigative force or private social club, perhaps. In general, it seems that Society Kindred and Dragons find ways to coexist when they recognize that they are in pursuit of different goals. When the Inner Circle seeks to hoard information for itself or when the Dragons seek to dabble in political power, troubles arise. When Kindred are present that can negotiate fair shares or divisions of authority between the two covenants (a joint Invictus/Dragon coterie might bridge the gap), the Invictus and the Order can enjoy the kind of alliance normally associated with the First and Second Estates. (In some Invictus domains, the Order is known as the Secret Estate.)
Ordo Dracul: "Strong outside hollow within."
Like The Carthian Movement, The Invictus is concerned with more temporal matters than The Ordo Dracul. Unlike them, however, The Invictus is concerned with maintaining the Status quo, with blocking change. This, obviously, flies in the face of Dragon philosophy. The Invictus potentially holds the most power to change the world of any of the vampiric covenants. Their influence in matters corporate, legal andpolitical give them the ability, if they so desired, to alter the world so drastically that Kindred of other covenants would be scrambling to catch up. This amount of power is tantalizing and a bit frightening to The Ordo Dracul. Some young Dragons who discover how deep Invictus influence really goes in some cities sometimes wish that the First Estate would simply turn Kindred society on its ear so that the Order could study the effects.
In practice, the two covenants can work alongside one another with little problem. The Ordo Dracul doesn’t meddle in mortal affairs often, and The Invictus, while discomfited or intrigued by the notion of The Coils of the Dragon, is for the most part comfortable letting The Ordo Dracul have its privacy. (Better, anyway, to have the Dragons in their private parlors when the time comes for discussion on the philosophy of change). The Ordo Dracul respects The Invictus’ emphasis on traditionalism and propriety, and Dragons dwelling in Invictus cities often adopt some of the First Estate’s conventions of etiquette into their own observances. The Ordo Dracul especially favors the Recitation of Lineage, although the Dragons usually list mentors and students in place of sires and childer.
The Invictus don’t much care about Wyrm’s Nests, and so The Ordo Dracul doesn’t normally have to contend with competition from the covenant on a mystical level. In the unfortunate instance that a Wyrm’s Nest is also a desirable locale to The Invictus for some other reason, months of negotiation might ensure (meaning that The Ordo Dracul must sometimes violate The Invictus’ territory — Wyrm’s Nests don’t wait for diplomacy). On the other hand, the great value that Dragons place on Wyrm’s Nests can make them a prized property to The Invictus who wants something from the Order.
If The Ordo Dracul envies The Invictus anything, it’s their rapport with mortals. The First Estate is often better suited to dealing with mortal organizations than with individual people, of course, but the result is still impressive: The Invictus of many domains command great webs of temporal power, encompassing Kindred Regents and manipulators, ghoul agents and mortal dupes all across the world. The Dragon who wants access to mortal technologies, secure locations or protected artifacts may have to go through Invictus channels to get what she wants. Thus the Order works hard to not make an enemy of The Invictus on any grand scale in most domains.
The greatest point of contention between the two covenants is, of course, their completely contradictory philosophies regarding change. Some Dragons despise The Invictus on general principle, wondering how any Kindred, especially neonates, could be stupid enough to join the covenant knowing that the chances for advancement are so slim. Others note how the lofty seat of many Invictus leaders affords them an excellent vantage point the of Kindred and mortal worlds and how that magnificent position is wasted on stagnant elders desperately avoiding any change to their Requiems.
So near to the order of the Invictus and yet so far, The Ordo Dracul represents (in the eyes of fanatical Society Kindred) a serious failure on the part of the Invictus. To an extremist’s way of thinking, every single Dragon should have been an easy convert to the Invictus, but somewhere along the way, something went horribly awry. The First Estate was distracted when it should have been attentive.
The Invictus does not share the Dragons’ fascination with change or “redemption.” On the contrary, the Invictus is certain that Damnation is forever, and the best that can be done is to accrue as much power as possible to ease the weight of the ages. Kindred do not change and, ideally, neither should the cities they rule.
Many a member of the Invictus, however, those from European domains in particular, still entertains long-term intentions of annexing a local Ordo Dracul chapter. Invictus members may see The Coils of the Dragon as party tricks, heresies or secret weapons, but they’re exceedingly useful whatever they are. The Invictus could put them to good use.
In many domains, The Ordo Dracul is treated as a society adjacent to the Invictus — a secret investigative force or private social club, perhaps. In general, it seems that Society Kindred and Dragons find ways to coexist when they recognize that they are in pursuit of different goals. When the Inner Circle seeks to hoard information for itself or when the Dragons seek to dabble in political power, troubles arise. When Kindred are present that can negotiate fair shares or divisions of authority between the two covenants (a joint Invictus/Dragon coterie might bridge the gap), the Invictus and the Order can enjoy the kind of alliance normally associated with the First and Second Estates. (In some Invictus domains, the Order is known as the Secret Estate.)
Neutral
Invictus: "Cults of the self."
In many domains, keeping tabs on unaligned Kindred is a major part of The Invictus mission, a key component in the covenant’s campaign against disorder. This may mean anything from Shadowing known agitators to bringing troublemakers to the Sheriff to posing as agents provocateurs among the rabble to lead them into actions that allow the First Estate to clamp down on every unaligned vampire in the city. This kind of monitoring of unaligned activity is one of the key tasks elders assign to neonates and younger ancillae on a nightly basis.
For the childe of an Invictus Kindred to become unaligned is a deeply embarrassing event for a sire — and one that rarely goes unpunished. Elders have been known to launch attacks at their own childe’s influences — minions and unaligned Allies — in response. At the extreme, some in the First Estate have been known to put their own childe into Torpor rather than allow the childe to shame them in such a way. Defecting from The Invictus is bad enough, but leaving society altogether — essentially Throwing away every advantage that might help one throughout the course of the Requiem — is seen as an intolerable insult. On more than one occasion in the history of The Invictus, an elder has taken it upon herself to destroy all unaligned Kindred after her favorite childe was “seduced away by the lying rabble.” While that is not the standard response to a wayward childe, The Unaligned do often suffer from a notable increase in unwanted scrutiny any time an Invictus childe opts to rebel by disappearing into the underbrush of The Unaligned. Should the First Estate come to the conclusion that The Unaligned are actually actively recruiting from Invictus ranks — actually undermining Kindred society — there will be hell to pay.
The eldest of Invictus elders sometimes have difficulty telling the difference between unaligned Kindred and members of The Carthian Movement. To such aged monsters, Carthian coteries are little more than political cults. Often, Carthian states resemble nothing so much as vagrants on the stoop of civilization. This underestimation sometimes works in the Carthians’ favor.
Should an unaligned vampire manage to reach elder Status, The Invictus might extend a formal invitation to him to join the First Estate, but such invitations are not usually extended with much enthusiasm, as Kindred who have been unaligned for so long are rarely felt to possess the discipline necessary to function as members of the First Estate’s tight hierarchy. That kind of charity is more often intended as a demonstration or maneuver on the part of the inviting Kindred than it is a boon for the invited.
The Unaligned
Though other covenants may get the covenant’s unadulterated hostility, the First Estate saves its deepest, most absolute contempt for The Unaligned. This rabble is inevitably among the greatest threats to the Masquerade in any city in which unaligned vampires are found. In the eyes of The Invictus, The Unaligned are like plague rats, scurrying around out of sight spreading disorder like a blight through Kindred society. To the First Estate’s way of thinking, The Unaligned are an impoverished lot, wholly lacking in loyalty and self-discipline. They possess no sense of history, no awareness of their place in the Requiem and no higher principles to guide their nightly disruptions than what they want to do. In the absence of any self-discipline, their only loyalty is to themselves, and as far as The Invictus is concerned, that may as well be loyalty to the Beast, given the trouble such isolation breeds.In many domains, keeping tabs on unaligned Kindred is a major part of The Invictus mission, a key component in the covenant’s campaign against disorder. This may mean anything from Shadowing known agitators to bringing troublemakers to the Sheriff to posing as agents provocateurs among the rabble to lead them into actions that allow the First Estate to clamp down on every unaligned vampire in the city. This kind of monitoring of unaligned activity is one of the key tasks elders assign to neonates and younger ancillae on a nightly basis.
For the childe of an Invictus Kindred to become unaligned is a deeply embarrassing event for a sire — and one that rarely goes unpunished. Elders have been known to launch attacks at their own childe’s influences — minions and unaligned Allies — in response. At the extreme, some in the First Estate have been known to put their own childe into Torpor rather than allow the childe to shame them in such a way. Defecting from The Invictus is bad enough, but leaving society altogether — essentially Throwing away every advantage that might help one throughout the course of the Requiem — is seen as an intolerable insult. On more than one occasion in the history of The Invictus, an elder has taken it upon herself to destroy all unaligned Kindred after her favorite childe was “seduced away by the lying rabble.” While that is not the standard response to a wayward childe, The Unaligned do often suffer from a notable increase in unwanted scrutiny any time an Invictus childe opts to rebel by disappearing into the underbrush of The Unaligned. Should the First Estate come to the conclusion that The Unaligned are actually actively recruiting from Invictus ranks — actually undermining Kindred society — there will be hell to pay.
The eldest of Invictus elders sometimes have difficulty telling the difference between unaligned Kindred and members of The Carthian Movement. To such aged monsters, Carthian coteries are little more than political cults. Often, Carthian states resemble nothing so much as vagrants on the stoop of civilization. This underestimation sometimes works in the Carthians’ favor.
Should an unaligned vampire manage to reach elder Status, The Invictus might extend a formal invitation to him to join the First Estate, but such invitations are not usually extended with much enthusiasm, as Kindred who have been unaligned for so long are rarely felt to possess the discipline necessary to function as members of the First Estate’s tight hierarchy. That kind of charity is more often intended as a demonstration or maneuver on the part of the inviting Kindred than it is a boon for the invited.
Barely Neutral
Carthians: "Viciously anachronistic."
Invictus: "No respect for tradition."
On paper, you can’t find a covenant more opposed to the views of The Carthian Movement than The Invictus. The “Power to the People” ideology is anathema to the feudal systems of heredity nobility and stratified classes, and will find little support or purchase with them. In the eyes of The Invictus, their long-tested system is not only a good one, it is unquestionably the best possible one. The attempts of the Carthians to alter or replace the feudal system with mortal progressions are considered immature and foolish at best, idiotic and dangerous at worst.
That isn’t to say that the two covenants are always at odds, though. Quite the contrary. Both are secular, so they speak a common Language of unmuddied politics, and both are often willing to make deals to ensure the smooth function of a domain. Invictus Kindred aren’t nearly as interested in dominating every vampire as they are in ensuring safe and prosperous futures for themselves. Carthians often find themselves forming pacts of non-interference with The Invictus, and The Invictus are rarely the ones who violate those pacts.
Problems between the covenants most often arise when the Carthians see fit to protest the workings of The Invictus within its own boundaries, attempting to force the Inner Circle to allow its lesser vampires rights and freedoms beyond those outlined in their Oaths of Fealty. Perceived (or actual) abuse of less powerful Kindred within the system of the Invictusoften spurs selfless (or opportunistic) Carthians to action, and can lead to serious conflict. The duty-bound vampires of The Invictus are, after all, the property of their superiors. When the Carthians decide to interfere with The Invictus vampire, the Carthians are invading the territory of the elders, whether the Carthians realize it or not.
The members of The Invictus who are most likely to convert to Carthian philosophy are almost always young, less powerful Kindred. They are the ones who find themselves chafing under the system of absolute fealty to experience and tradition (most especially in the modern West, coming from relatively free mortal lives), and the promise of equality under Carthian law often appeals. To win these Invictus members over, the Movement needs to demonstrate that the material gains offered by Invictus membership are not the gifts young Kindred tend to think they are, and the Carthians need to overcome the fear Invictus members have of violating their complicated oaths and obligations. Tense negotiations often accompany the defection of any Invictus neonate, as the Carthians must deal with The Invictus elder who formerly lorded over the young vampire in question. The conversion of the neonate represents a loss of resource to the elder, and a failure to compensate him can result in the nullification of treaties or agreements between the covenants.
Unlife under Invictus rule can be difficult for Carthians, since the imposition of Oaths of Service may be applied to all Kindred simply to preclude the notion of revolt. Any such oath restricts the freedoms of those who take it on and may interfere with the operating policy of the Movement in the domain. Even without the oaths of The Invictus, Carthian Kindred often chafe at the extremely conservative values and fashions of the ruling covenant, making spectacles of themselves in hopes of spurring change.
Invictus Kindred dwelling under Carthian rule will almost always opt out of the spirit of the Movement’s governing attempts, still looking to their Inner Circle to render all decisions. Pure democracies are undermined by the votes of the Inner Circle, which are unanimously supported as a bloc by the rest of The Invictus. Attempts to enforce communal behavior are frequently resisted, and constitutional law is never honored.
In many domains, the Invictus sees The Carthian Movement not as a real threat, but as a wayward thorn in the First Estate’s side, an unruly mob of neonates barely a step away from pistol-waving, bomb-throwing anarchy. The First Estate does not like The Carthian Movement and does not understand what has brought the Carthians to the bizarre philosophies they espouse. After all, no other creature on the planet insists on being led by its least experienced members or tries to mimic the social conventions of its food, so why should Kindred? The elders of the First Estate scoff at the naïve ideologies of the Carthians even as they chafe at the young covenant’s rapid growth.
To the Invictus eye, The Carthian Movement is built upside down. It violates every principle of sound organizational structure. The Carthian Movement puts power in the hands of the average and the unremarkable. It empowers Kindred who have little or no concept of how to comport themselves in the Requiem. Carthian philosophies seem to restrict older, more powerful and more experienced members for the sake of equality, weakening the best to achieve a vulnerable mediocrity.
Not only is such organization disrespectful, it’s dangerous and in violation of everything the Invictus stands for. Many Invictus find it unspeakably tedious to have to expend effort to keep its own neonates loyal. Once, Kindred at every stage of the Requiem flocked to the Invictus. Once, Kindred would do anything, suffer any indignity, just to play a small role in the nightly operations of the First Estate.
The rise of The Carthian Movement had a terrible impact on that state of affairs. Suddenly, neonates were looking askance at the notion of hierarchy itself, and — given the choice between pushing themselves to be something in the Invictus or wallowing around with the lowest common denominator of The Carthian Movement, they chose the latter — inexplicably, as far as the First Estate was concerned. Now, Society elders and ancillae in many domains must court new vassals and protégés from the broader ranks of the neonates.
The initial impression of First Estate Kindred, elders in particular, was that modern technology had made mortals weak, lazy and unwilling to work to achieve their true potential. Many First Estate Kindred feel that way about the neonates drawn from modern mortals as well.
In the modern nights, the Invictus pays more attention to recruiting and keeping members than the covenant ever did (or had to do) in the past, but doesn’t especially go out of its way to attract members from the young ranks of the Carthian rabble. On the contrary, many Invictus elders think of the Carthians as a politically oriented prep school or an elaborate obstacle course. Carthian society carries the burden of socializing young Kindred while inadvertently preparing them for long, inevitable years of service to the Invictus.
As far as the First Estate is concerned, the will to power is immortal but the urge to play games and tinker around with political ideologies is not. Most members of the Invictus believe that, in the end, ancillae and elders will grow tired of Carthian games and take their talents and experience where they are appreciated and rewarded, where ancillae and elders are treated the way powerful elder Kindred ought to be treated: the Invictus.
Consequently, when the Invictus takes hostile action against The Carthian Movement, the First Estate moves most aggressively against the other covenant’s brash younger members. At the same time, Invictus members continue to build bridges of temptation to Carthian elders and established ancillae. Nearly all Invictus elders are secretly (or not so secretly) of the belief that Carthian elders just need to see how much better the Requiem is for the established Kindred of the First Estate. Once these Carthian elders think through the long-term consequences of Carthian affiliation, how could they not opt to leave the rabble behind? Instead of making war on Carthian elders, then, the elders of the First Estate subtly court these Carthians, defer to them, flatter them, treat them as the Invictus believes elders ought to be treated. In short, Invictus elders do everything but send the Carthian elders formal invitations to defect.
Often, the practice works. Not only do Carthian elders tire of the hoops their neonates make them jump through, but young Carthians witness the camaraderie extended to their elders by the Invictus and immediately jump to conclusions; the Carthian neonates assume that their own elders are somehow colluding with the enemy, and the situation degrades from there — until they effectively force their elders to jump ship for the First Estate.
If nothing else, Carthians that never come to understand the attraction of the Invictus are out of the way. Rather than causing internal troubles for the First Estate, rebels and revolutionaries can be driven together into the uncivil pseudo-state of the Carthians, where they bicker and undermine their own revolutions with their disorder. The most savvy modern Invictus see The Carthian Movement as a fortuitous opportunity — a beatable enemy that exemplifies exactly why the modern night needs the First Estate.
Why make the same mistakes as short-lived mortal societies? Why waste so much of the Requiem on political fads and experiments when the Invictus have already found the proof? Why gamble on the Carthians when the Invictus is a sure thing?
Invictus: "No respect for tradition."
On paper, you can’t find a covenant more opposed to the views of The Carthian Movement than The Invictus. The “Power to the People” ideology is anathema to the feudal systems of heredity nobility and stratified classes, and will find little support or purchase with them. In the eyes of The Invictus, their long-tested system is not only a good one, it is unquestionably the best possible one. The attempts of the Carthians to alter or replace the feudal system with mortal progressions are considered immature and foolish at best, idiotic and dangerous at worst.
That isn’t to say that the two covenants are always at odds, though. Quite the contrary. Both are secular, so they speak a common Language of unmuddied politics, and both are often willing to make deals to ensure the smooth function of a domain. Invictus Kindred aren’t nearly as interested in dominating every vampire as they are in ensuring safe and prosperous futures for themselves. Carthians often find themselves forming pacts of non-interference with The Invictus, and The Invictus are rarely the ones who violate those pacts.
Problems between the covenants most often arise when the Carthians see fit to protest the workings of The Invictus within its own boundaries, attempting to force the Inner Circle to allow its lesser vampires rights and freedoms beyond those outlined in their Oaths of Fealty. Perceived (or actual) abuse of less powerful Kindred within the system of the Invictusoften spurs selfless (or opportunistic) Carthians to action, and can lead to serious conflict. The duty-bound vampires of The Invictus are, after all, the property of their superiors. When the Carthians decide to interfere with The Invictus vampire, the Carthians are invading the territory of the elders, whether the Carthians realize it or not.
The members of The Invictus who are most likely to convert to Carthian philosophy are almost always young, less powerful Kindred. They are the ones who find themselves chafing under the system of absolute fealty to experience and tradition (most especially in the modern West, coming from relatively free mortal lives), and the promise of equality under Carthian law often appeals. To win these Invictus members over, the Movement needs to demonstrate that the material gains offered by Invictus membership are not the gifts young Kindred tend to think they are, and the Carthians need to overcome the fear Invictus members have of violating their complicated oaths and obligations. Tense negotiations often accompany the defection of any Invictus neonate, as the Carthians must deal with The Invictus elder who formerly lorded over the young vampire in question. The conversion of the neonate represents a loss of resource to the elder, and a failure to compensate him can result in the nullification of treaties or agreements between the covenants.
Unlife under Invictus rule can be difficult for Carthians, since the imposition of Oaths of Service may be applied to all Kindred simply to preclude the notion of revolt. Any such oath restricts the freedoms of those who take it on and may interfere with the operating policy of the Movement in the domain. Even without the oaths of The Invictus, Carthian Kindred often chafe at the extremely conservative values and fashions of the ruling covenant, making spectacles of themselves in hopes of spurring change.
Invictus Kindred dwelling under Carthian rule will almost always opt out of the spirit of the Movement’s governing attempts, still looking to their Inner Circle to render all decisions. Pure democracies are undermined by the votes of the Inner Circle, which are unanimously supported as a bloc by the rest of The Invictus. Attempts to enforce communal behavior are frequently resisted, and constitutional law is never honored.
In many domains, the Invictus sees The Carthian Movement not as a real threat, but as a wayward thorn in the First Estate’s side, an unruly mob of neonates barely a step away from pistol-waving, bomb-throwing anarchy. The First Estate does not like The Carthian Movement and does not understand what has brought the Carthians to the bizarre philosophies they espouse. After all, no other creature on the planet insists on being led by its least experienced members or tries to mimic the social conventions of its food, so why should Kindred? The elders of the First Estate scoff at the naïve ideologies of the Carthians even as they chafe at the young covenant’s rapid growth.
To the Invictus eye, The Carthian Movement is built upside down. It violates every principle of sound organizational structure. The Carthian Movement puts power in the hands of the average and the unremarkable. It empowers Kindred who have little or no concept of how to comport themselves in the Requiem. Carthian philosophies seem to restrict older, more powerful and more experienced members for the sake of equality, weakening the best to achieve a vulnerable mediocrity.
Not only is such organization disrespectful, it’s dangerous and in violation of everything the Invictus stands for. Many Invictus find it unspeakably tedious to have to expend effort to keep its own neonates loyal. Once, Kindred at every stage of the Requiem flocked to the Invictus. Once, Kindred would do anything, suffer any indignity, just to play a small role in the nightly operations of the First Estate.
The rise of The Carthian Movement had a terrible impact on that state of affairs. Suddenly, neonates were looking askance at the notion of hierarchy itself, and — given the choice between pushing themselves to be something in the Invictus or wallowing around with the lowest common denominator of The Carthian Movement, they chose the latter — inexplicably, as far as the First Estate was concerned. Now, Society elders and ancillae in many domains must court new vassals and protégés from the broader ranks of the neonates.
The initial impression of First Estate Kindred, elders in particular, was that modern technology had made mortals weak, lazy and unwilling to work to achieve their true potential. Many First Estate Kindred feel that way about the neonates drawn from modern mortals as well.
In the modern nights, the Invictus pays more attention to recruiting and keeping members than the covenant ever did (or had to do) in the past, but doesn’t especially go out of its way to attract members from the young ranks of the Carthian rabble. On the contrary, many Invictus elders think of the Carthians as a politically oriented prep school or an elaborate obstacle course. Carthian society carries the burden of socializing young Kindred while inadvertently preparing them for long, inevitable years of service to the Invictus.
As far as the First Estate is concerned, the will to power is immortal but the urge to play games and tinker around with political ideologies is not. Most members of the Invictus believe that, in the end, ancillae and elders will grow tired of Carthian games and take their talents and experience where they are appreciated and rewarded, where ancillae and elders are treated the way powerful elder Kindred ought to be treated: the Invictus.
Consequently, when the Invictus takes hostile action against The Carthian Movement, the First Estate moves most aggressively against the other covenant’s brash younger members. At the same time, Invictus members continue to build bridges of temptation to Carthian elders and established ancillae. Nearly all Invictus elders are secretly (or not so secretly) of the belief that Carthian elders just need to see how much better the Requiem is for the established Kindred of the First Estate. Once these Carthian elders think through the long-term consequences of Carthian affiliation, how could they not opt to leave the rabble behind? Instead of making war on Carthian elders, then, the elders of the First Estate subtly court these Carthians, defer to them, flatter them, treat them as the Invictus believes elders ought to be treated. In short, Invictus elders do everything but send the Carthian elders formal invitations to defect.
Often, the practice works. Not only do Carthian elders tire of the hoops their neonates make them jump through, but young Carthians witness the camaraderie extended to their elders by the Invictus and immediately jump to conclusions; the Carthian neonates assume that their own elders are somehow colluding with the enemy, and the situation degrades from there — until they effectively force their elders to jump ship for the First Estate.
If nothing else, Carthians that never come to understand the attraction of the Invictus are out of the way. Rather than causing internal troubles for the First Estate, rebels and revolutionaries can be driven together into the uncivil pseudo-state of the Carthians, where they bicker and undermine their own revolutions with their disorder. The most savvy modern Invictus see The Carthian Movement as a fortuitous opportunity — a beatable enemy that exemplifies exactly why the modern night needs the First Estate.
Why make the same mistakes as short-lived mortal societies? Why waste so much of the Requiem on political fads and experiments when the Invictus have already found the proof? Why gamble on the Carthians when the Invictus is a sure thing?
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.
Hostile
The Invictus sees every single member of the Brood as a walking, talking case of Diablerie, the very antithesis of the order the First Estate has sworn to uphold. If The Invictus epitomizes order among the Kindred, Belial’s Brood is pure, destructive chaos. To The Invictus philosophy, which thinks and acts long-term, the shortsighted nihilism of Belial’s Brood is a cancer that must be destroyed before it can get a foothold.
Nothing causes a First Estate Prince to unleash his Hounds faster than rumors of a cell of Brood members. And when the Hounds catch those members, they don’t send the infernalists to Final Death until they have been through the most merciless and aggressive Interrogation the covenant’s elders can arrange. Any member of Belial’s Brood captured by The Invictus has nothing to look forward to but being thoroughly and brutally unraveled by Invictus experts. Auspex, Majesty, Nightmare and Dominate all have their uses in such an Interrogation session, and any captured member of Belial’s Brood can expect to suffer through all of these Disciplines before being sent to a painful Final Death.
The animals of Belial’s Brood may sometimes act civilized to get what they want, but they are enemies of the Masquerade and, thus, enemies of The Invictus.
Of all the covenants, The Invictus seems to bear the most animus toward the Brood of Belial. The origin of this antipathy is unknown to the Forsworn, but many within the Brood claim the hoary elders that hold the reins of power within the First Estate direct it. Whatever the catalyst of the grudge, its ramifications are hard to argue against. Invictus-dominated domains are uniformly hostile to members of Belial’s Brood, and actively slander the covenant even when no covey is present within the territory. Nomadic coveys often bear the brunt of this hostility, becoming the targets of literal witch-hunts when their true allegiances are sniffed out. Even political rivals within The Invictus itself were carelessly tarred with covert Brood membership when the rivals dare to question the Status quo (ludicrous as such an allegation may be). Some Invictus domains have gone so long without a true Brood presence that younger vampires have even begun to doubt that the covenant exists. In fact, accusations of demon worship or “infernalism” became so common during the early 1980s that such tactics are often greeted with hysterics in the modern nights.
Of course, the vampires of the brood happily reciprocate this hostile stance. While soma-aspected factions find the power wielded by individual Invictus enviable, most Forsworn recognize The Invictus as an agent of spiritual ossification within vampire society. While the ideology of The Invictus does not boil the blood of Forsworn in the same way as the regurgitated moans of The Carthian Movement, the actions of the First Estate concern the Brood immensely. The Invictus is, at its core, a secular conspiracy, and although the First Estate may have wed itself to more religious covenants in the past, tonight the covenant rules on its own. While the First Estate inspires loyalty, the covenant has often found itself unable to inspire passionate conviction, a quality Belial’s Brood possesses in abundance. According to the few politicians in the Brood, this “passion gap” threatens the established order The Invictus has labored so hard to get the other covenants to sign on to. The Invictus is not a testament to some breathing ideal, but the rusted cage that vampires believe will simultaneously protect them from the Beast and the mortal world.
In spite of the murder of their brethren, more experienced coveys make pilgrimages to Invictus territories in hopes of carrying out terrifying raids. These attacks are brutal affairs lasting only a few nights, but usually spark a string of recriminations within the city’s hierarchy and a futile search for crypto-Satanists. Even though The Invictus is often thought of as the only covenant with even a faint understanding of the Brood’s ethos, in times of crisis the First Estate finds comfort in the old stereotypes.
Forsworn coveys have surprising luck ferreting out havens and Retainers within cities they have only recently stepped foot in. Anonymous phone calls and Ghouls bearing lists are often the first response a nomadic covey that has put down stakes in an Invictus stronghold. Such coveys have to be careful not to outstay their welcome, but can often safely operate over brief periods of time. In domains with a more fractured center of gravity, visiting coveys have terrorized the holdings of city Kindred for years on end. Some members of the Nameless faction are rumored to have a more nuanced understanding with the First Estate, serving as spiritual viziers and emissaries to Princes too old to be bothered with the New Age glitz of The Lancea Sanctum. Considering the Nameless’ association with the antediluvian origins of the Brood, such ties to The Invictus might hint at a deeper connection between the two covenants.
Nothing causes a First Estate Prince to unleash his Hounds faster than rumors of a cell of Brood members. And when the Hounds catch those members, they don’t send the infernalists to Final Death until they have been through the most merciless and aggressive Interrogation the covenant’s elders can arrange. Any member of Belial’s Brood captured by The Invictus has nothing to look forward to but being thoroughly and brutally unraveled by Invictus experts. Auspex, Majesty, Nightmare and Dominate all have their uses in such an Interrogation session, and any captured member of Belial’s Brood can expect to suffer through all of these Disciplines before being sent to a painful Final Death.
The animals of Belial’s Brood may sometimes act civilized to get what they want, but they are enemies of the Masquerade and, thus, enemies of The Invictus.
Of all the covenants, The Invictus seems to bear the most animus toward the Brood of Belial. The origin of this antipathy is unknown to the Forsworn, but many within the Brood claim the hoary elders that hold the reins of power within the First Estate direct it. Whatever the catalyst of the grudge, its ramifications are hard to argue against. Invictus-dominated domains are uniformly hostile to members of Belial’s Brood, and actively slander the covenant even when no covey is present within the territory. Nomadic coveys often bear the brunt of this hostility, becoming the targets of literal witch-hunts when their true allegiances are sniffed out. Even political rivals within The Invictus itself were carelessly tarred with covert Brood membership when the rivals dare to question the Status quo (ludicrous as such an allegation may be). Some Invictus domains have gone so long without a true Brood presence that younger vampires have even begun to doubt that the covenant exists. In fact, accusations of demon worship or “infernalism” became so common during the early 1980s that such tactics are often greeted with hysterics in the modern nights.
Of course, the vampires of the brood happily reciprocate this hostile stance. While soma-aspected factions find the power wielded by individual Invictus enviable, most Forsworn recognize The Invictus as an agent of spiritual ossification within vampire society. While the ideology of The Invictus does not boil the blood of Forsworn in the same way as the regurgitated moans of The Carthian Movement, the actions of the First Estate concern the Brood immensely. The Invictus is, at its core, a secular conspiracy, and although the First Estate may have wed itself to more religious covenants in the past, tonight the covenant rules on its own. While the First Estate inspires loyalty, the covenant has often found itself unable to inspire passionate conviction, a quality Belial’s Brood possesses in abundance. According to the few politicians in the Brood, this “passion gap” threatens the established order The Invictus has labored so hard to get the other covenants to sign on to. The Invictus is not a testament to some breathing ideal, but the rusted cage that vampires believe will simultaneously protect them from the Beast and the mortal world.
In spite of the murder of their brethren, more experienced coveys make pilgrimages to Invictus territories in hopes of carrying out terrifying raids. These attacks are brutal affairs lasting only a few nights, but usually spark a string of recriminations within the city’s hierarchy and a futile search for crypto-Satanists. Even though The Invictus is often thought of as the only covenant with even a faint understanding of the Brood’s ethos, in times of crisis the First Estate finds comfort in the old stereotypes.
Forsworn–Invictus Partnerships
Even as The Invictus professes its hatred for the demon-spawned disciples of Belial, ignorant of them though The Invictus may be, few members of the First Estate would turn their backs on an effective tool of statecraft. While neither covenant is openly proud of occasions of past relationship, they have served both covenants well. To be sure, The Invictus’ apparent hatred for the Forsworn is not stage acting, even though members of the Nameless seem strangely immune to such prosecution. As The Invictus as a whole persecutes and bedevils the Brood, less scrupulous individuals strike bargains with the devil. Considering the taboo nature of such Contacts, many Invictus actually believe these arrangements are novel, but the unchecked ambition of the First Estate provides the lie to this conceit.Forsworn coveys have surprising luck ferreting out havens and Retainers within cities they have only recently stepped foot in. Anonymous phone calls and Ghouls bearing lists are often the first response a nomadic covey that has put down stakes in an Invictus stronghold. Such coveys have to be careful not to outstay their welcome, but can often safely operate over brief periods of time. In domains with a more fractured center of gravity, visiting coveys have terrorized the holdings of city Kindred for years on end. Some members of the Nameless faction are rumored to have a more nuanced understanding with the First Estate, serving as spiritual viziers and emissaries to Princes too old to be bothered with the New Age glitz of The Lancea Sanctum. Considering the Nameless’ association with the antediluvian origins of the Brood, such ties to The Invictus might hint at a deeper connection between the two covenants.
Hostile
Generally speaking, the Invictus hates the genocidal faction known as “Seven,” although not with the same deeply personal vendetta the First Estate reserves for Belial’s Brood. That’s not to say that members of the First Estate don’t deal with members of VII using the same interrogate-and-destroy tactics that Invictus members bring to bear on Belial’s Brood (they do), just that the Invictus hatred of VII is colder and more rational than the outright fanatical loathing reserved for Belial’s Brood. VII is a threat to Kindred, while Belial’s Brood is a threat to all of Kindred society.