The Lancea Sanctum (LAN-kay-uh SANK-toom)
To members of the Lancea Sanctum, the self-proclaimed heralds of undead morality, their origin defines everything they are and everything they do. Indeed, the modern sobriquet “Sanctified,” by which the covenant is sometimes known, incenses many elders and traditionalists of the covenant, who prefer to use the Latin “Lancea Sanctum” when referring to the collective covenant. They are the religious and even moral backbone of the Kindred, yes, but they are also self-appointed priests and inquisitors. The most inhuman of an inhuman race, they exalt the role of predator. Universally respected yet universally feared, this covenant constantly seeks power over all Kindred everywhere, not for political rule, as The Invictus does, but to enforce the dictates, attitudes and even thoughts that they believe have been handed down to them from their originator Longinus, and by extension from God Himself.
The catechism of the Lancea Sanctum is that they are the ideological descendants of the Roman centurion who used his Spear to prod Christ on the cross. According to the covenant’s dogma, some of Christ’s blood dripped onto the soldier, and this blood gave the centurion eternal life. It also carried with it, however, divine retribution, and though Longinus’ act revealed Christ’s divinity, it did so after an act of faithlessness on the soldier’s part. Thereafter, Longinus was cursed to live eternally, but he could walk only at night and subsist only on the same blood that had proved his undoing. As the creation myth blends into covenant philosophy, vampires are a form of “original sin,” though God allows them to exist, and indeed even charges them with the task of representing the risks of His divine displeasure.
If The Invictus represents the nobility and aristocracy, then the Sanctified are the priests, bishops, paladins and the religious and spiritual advisors. (Members of The Invictus occasionally refer to the Lancea Sanctum as the Second Estate, in extension of their own metaphor, itself a perversion of the historical first and second estates.) Most of the covenent’s members take their role as ecclesiastical guides to their fellow undead very seriously. Many of the Damned — the Lancea Sanctum prefers the older and more severe term to the more recent “Kindred”— advise Princes and other leaders on religious and moral matters. They discuss theological ramifications of decisions, and point out how a proposed action or an alleged crime violates (or fails to violate) The Traditions as interpreted by Longinus. Some members of the Lancea Sanctum take their duties further still, counseling younger Sanctified on what it means to be a vampire, educating them about the mythology and spirituality of the race, and even advising them on how to be more effective predators. This, they feel, is part of their duty as decreed by their founder — to ensure that all of the faithful understand their place in God’s creation.
And if this were all the Sanctified did, it’s unlikely the Lancea Sanctum would wield the fearsome reputation it has acquired. The Sanctified are determined that all their brethren should follow Longinus’ philosophies. And more specifically, that they should all follow the Lancea Sanctum’s interpretation of those laws. The covenant does not merely advise, it enforces. Its members do not merely preach, they demand. Members of the faction are known for their zealotry not only because Longinus himself was cursed by God, but because they maintain that violence and bloodshed are perfectly acceptable means of conversion.
The Lancea Sanctum is not mindless in its devotion to covenant principles, however, or at least most of its members are not. Violence is not necessarily their first resort. It is far better to convince other vampires of the wisdom and righteousness of their cause than to cut down a potential brother or sister. Nor is the covenant anxious to deplete its own numbers in hopeless or unnecessary conflict. In domains where other covenants hold clear dominance, the Lancea Sanctum is often willing to work with them. Sanctified members advise the current leadership in hopes of both steering its decisions and gaining their own Status. They also circulate among the Kindred on the streets, preaching their message of a better way, drumming up support for future activities. The Sanctified are as patient as a cult of the undead can afford to be; violence is not to be avoided, but neither is it to be engaged in without purpose. Once the Lancea Sanctum has determined that bloodshed is the best route to an objective, however, God be merciful to anyone who stands in the way.
Of course, as frightened as many Kindred are of the Lancea Sanctum, they can take comfort in the notion that mortals have it even worse. The Sanctified have a reputation for being vampires in the truest sense of the word. They are not the mindless, bloodthirsty vandals who represent the worst of the unbound. Nor are they the brooding erstwhile generals of The Invictus, sending followers to their deaths on a whim. No, Sanctified are so frightening because they are so matter-of-fact, even reverent, about their vampiric nature. Ever since the covenant’s founding in the nights following Longinus’ curse, one of their fundamental precepts stated that the true Sanctified must fully acknowledge that he is no longer mortal. Vampires occupy a higher level. They are predators, feeding on mortals as those same Canaille do upon cows and sheep. To be true to the teachings of Longinus and the purposes of the Almighty, a Sanctified has to be a predator and no longer even pretend to be one of the kine from which he came. The Lancea Sanctum has no particular love of cruelty (or at least most of its members do not), nor do their beliefs or laws permit them such wantonness. They simply treat their prey as no better than animals, and this cold ruthlessness is often far more disturbing than any random outburst of conscious malice.
Longinus himself occupies the position of Dark Prophet. While he is not the “first of the undead” according to sect beliefs, he was certainly one of the first to be something other than a self-motivated monster, little more than an animal. With Longinus arose a code of ethics. His act of prodding Christ with the Spear is more important than the man or vampire — Longinus’ import follows that act, not vice versa. He is a “sin eater,” representing the evils that man commits in the absence of faith, and his punishment is its just repayment.
This philosophy leads to a strange dichotomy of beliefs that rivals the most extremist and even bizarre of mortal faiths. The philosophical precepts governing members of the Lancea Sanctum — or at least those members who truly believe in what they do — seem almost mutually exclusive, yet the covenant has managed to hold them together for what might be centuries or even millennia.
Commandments and Traditions
The first and foremost rule the Lancea Sanctum observes is that The Traditions are absolute and inviolate — mostly. The covenant seeks to encourage all vampire society to adhere strictly to those precepts, for only by doing so can the Lancea Sanctum honor its progenitor and bring the rest of the undead closer to understanding him.
At the same time, however, most Sanctified are pragmatic, and their leaders know that the covenant will never succeed at its divinely appointed task if they allow themselves to become weak. Sanctified therefore Embrace childer, though it flies in the face of The Traditions. They prefer to convert other vampires where possible, but they know that the covenant would atrophy without the occasional infusion of new blood. Similarly, the Lancea Sanctum does not hesitate to kill those who threaten its objectives (though again, Sanctified would often prefer to convert or at least circumvent such enemies where possible). Murder, too, is permitted because the covenant could not survive otherwise. Strangely enough, true believers among the Lancea Sanctum do not claim that they are exempt from The Traditions they break. Rather, they maintain that they willingly risk God’s displeasure for the sake of the larger community, much as Longinus himself was cursed for making the mark on Christ that proved his divine nature. They accept whatever judgment is finally levied upon them for doing so.
The Lancea Sanctum will not, however, choose to violate the Tradition of Secrecy, at least not in the sense that it lets mortals know exactly what vampires are. Members of the covenant understand as well as any others how vital the Masquerade is for the survival of the race, and thus the satisfaction of their divine charge. Of course, violent members, having taken philosophical lessons of superiority over the kine to heart, consider killing witnesses to vampiric acts an acceptable means of maintaining secrecy. Covenant leadership frowns on such brazen behavior and has been known to chastise or dispose of Sanctified who draw too much attention. They know, however, that to rein in the entirety of the young generations would vastly curtail their recruiting power — assuming they could do it at all — so they grit their teeth and make every effort to clean up after careless childer.
Guidance
All Sanctified are worthy of spiritual guidance. True believers in the covenant’s cause never turn away any vampire, of any affiliation, who seeks aid or advice on religious matters. In fact, covenant law prohibits members from refusing any such petition. Obviously, this stricture allows for reasonable interpretation. A Sanctified need not invite a known enemy into her Haven with open arms, nor must she stop in the middle of a gun battle to comfort a companion who’s having a crisis of faith. Where possible, however, the Lancea Sanctum serves the entirety of vampire society as priests and advisors, and it is through this reaching out that the group gains many of its most faithful adherents. Even if conversion is not viable, the covenant believes that by providing aid it can only bring other vampires that much closer to God.
Conversion
Those who will not voluntarily open their eyes must be forced to see. Violence is never the first choice, but if the undead refuse to come to the Lancea Sanctum, and if the Sanctified believe they can do so with minimal danger to their own standing, they have no qualms about shedding blood. Strictly speaking, conversion by the sword is impossible. A vampire can easily claim to have converted, and then flee at the first opportunity. Those who do not die can afford to wait for their chance. In regions where the covenant holds dominance, the Lancea Sanctum can enforce its laws and The Traditions with the most dire and horrifying of penalties. Other vampires in the territory might not actually believe as the Lancea Sanctum does, but by God they’re going to act as though they do! And who knows, maybe when they’ve been forced to behave like Sanctified for long enough, they’ll see the wisdom in such an unlifestyle.
The catechism of the Lancea Sanctum is that they are the ideological descendants of the Roman centurion who used his Spear to prod Christ on the cross. According to the covenant’s dogma, some of Christ’s blood dripped onto the soldier, and this blood gave the centurion eternal life. It also carried with it, however, divine retribution, and though Longinus’ act revealed Christ’s divinity, it did so after an act of faithlessness on the soldier’s part. Thereafter, Longinus was cursed to live eternally, but he could walk only at night and subsist only on the same blood that had proved his undoing. As the creation myth blends into covenant philosophy, vampires are a form of “original sin,” though God allows them to exist, and indeed even charges them with the task of representing the risks of His divine displeasure.
Overview
Perhaps one of the single most fundamental differences between the Lancea Sanctum and The Invictus is that members of The Invictus want to be the rulers of all Kindred while members of the Lancea Sanctum believe that their covenant already does rule in all ways that matter. The fact that its members claim dominance over fewer domains than The Invictus does is of no concern. They speak for God and represent the pinnacle of what the undead should be. Clearly, in the final analysis, true power is theirs.If The Invictus represents the nobility and aristocracy, then the Sanctified are the priests, bishops, paladins and the religious and spiritual advisors. (Members of The Invictus occasionally refer to the Lancea Sanctum as the Second Estate, in extension of their own metaphor, itself a perversion of the historical first and second estates.) Most of the covenent’s members take their role as ecclesiastical guides to their fellow undead very seriously. Many of the Damned — the Lancea Sanctum prefers the older and more severe term to the more recent “Kindred”— advise Princes and other leaders on religious and moral matters. They discuss theological ramifications of decisions, and point out how a proposed action or an alleged crime violates (or fails to violate) The Traditions as interpreted by Longinus. Some members of the Lancea Sanctum take their duties further still, counseling younger Sanctified on what it means to be a vampire, educating them about the mythology and spirituality of the race, and even advising them on how to be more effective predators. This, they feel, is part of their duty as decreed by their founder — to ensure that all of the faithful understand their place in God’s creation.
And if this were all the Sanctified did, it’s unlikely the Lancea Sanctum would wield the fearsome reputation it has acquired. The Sanctified are determined that all their brethren should follow Longinus’ philosophies. And more specifically, that they should all follow the Lancea Sanctum’s interpretation of those laws. The covenant does not merely advise, it enforces. Its members do not merely preach, they demand. Members of the faction are known for their zealotry not only because Longinus himself was cursed by God, but because they maintain that violence and bloodshed are perfectly acceptable means of conversion.
The Lancea Sanctum is not mindless in its devotion to covenant principles, however, or at least most of its members are not. Violence is not necessarily their first resort. It is far better to convince other vampires of the wisdom and righteousness of their cause than to cut down a potential brother or sister. Nor is the covenant anxious to deplete its own numbers in hopeless or unnecessary conflict. In domains where other covenants hold clear dominance, the Lancea Sanctum is often willing to work with them. Sanctified members advise the current leadership in hopes of both steering its decisions and gaining their own Status. They also circulate among the Kindred on the streets, preaching their message of a better way, drumming up support for future activities. The Sanctified are as patient as a cult of the undead can afford to be; violence is not to be avoided, but neither is it to be engaged in without purpose. Once the Lancea Sanctum has determined that bloodshed is the best route to an objective, however, God be merciful to anyone who stands in the way.
Of course, as frightened as many Kindred are of the Lancea Sanctum, they can take comfort in the notion that mortals have it even worse. The Sanctified have a reputation for being vampires in the truest sense of the word. They are not the mindless, bloodthirsty vandals who represent the worst of the unbound. Nor are they the brooding erstwhile generals of The Invictus, sending followers to their deaths on a whim. No, Sanctified are so frightening because they are so matter-of-fact, even reverent, about their vampiric nature. Ever since the covenant’s founding in the nights following Longinus’ curse, one of their fundamental precepts stated that the true Sanctified must fully acknowledge that he is no longer mortal. Vampires occupy a higher level. They are predators, feeding on mortals as those same Canaille do upon cows and sheep. To be true to the teachings of Longinus and the purposes of the Almighty, a Sanctified has to be a predator and no longer even pretend to be one of the kine from which he came. The Lancea Sanctum has no particular love of cruelty (or at least most of its members do not), nor do their beliefs or laws permit them such wantonness. They simply treat their prey as no better than animals, and this cold ruthlessness is often far more disturbing than any random outburst of conscious malice.
Philosophy
The Lancea Sanctum believes, quite frankly, that its members are the chosen of God. Sanctified are not inherently superior to other vampires, but exalt themselves by accepting the teachings of Longinus wholeheartedly. One night, all vampires will come to worship God and venerate Longinus as the Sanctified do. The Lancea Sanctum maintains that it is the duty of all good and faithful Sanctified to hurry that night along. Thus do they constantly proselytize, seeking converts to their way of thinking long past the time that other covenants might give up and move on.Longinus himself occupies the position of Dark Prophet. While he is not the “first of the undead” according to sect beliefs, he was certainly one of the first to be something other than a self-motivated monster, little more than an animal. With Longinus arose a code of ethics. His act of prodding Christ with the Spear is more important than the man or vampire — Longinus’ import follows that act, not vice versa. He is a “sin eater,” representing the evils that man commits in the absence of faith, and his punishment is its just repayment.
This philosophy leads to a strange dichotomy of beliefs that rivals the most extremist and even bizarre of mortal faiths. The philosophical precepts governing members of the Lancea Sanctum — or at least those members who truly believe in what they do — seem almost mutually exclusive, yet the covenant has managed to hold them together for what might be centuries or even millennia.
Commandments and Traditions
The first and foremost rule the Lancea Sanctum observes is that The Traditions are absolute and inviolate — mostly. The covenant seeks to encourage all vampire society to adhere strictly to those precepts, for only by doing so can the Lancea Sanctum honor its progenitor and bring the rest of the undead closer to understanding him.
At the same time, however, most Sanctified are pragmatic, and their leaders know that the covenant will never succeed at its divinely appointed task if they allow themselves to become weak. Sanctified therefore Embrace childer, though it flies in the face of The Traditions. They prefer to convert other vampires where possible, but they know that the covenant would atrophy without the occasional infusion of new blood. Similarly, the Lancea Sanctum does not hesitate to kill those who threaten its objectives (though again, Sanctified would often prefer to convert or at least circumvent such enemies where possible). Murder, too, is permitted because the covenant could not survive otherwise. Strangely enough, true believers among the Lancea Sanctum do not claim that they are exempt from The Traditions they break. Rather, they maintain that they willingly risk God’s displeasure for the sake of the larger community, much as Longinus himself was cursed for making the mark on Christ that proved his divine nature. They accept whatever judgment is finally levied upon them for doing so.
The Lancea Sanctum will not, however, choose to violate the Tradition of Secrecy, at least not in the sense that it lets mortals know exactly what vampires are. Members of the covenant understand as well as any others how vital the Masquerade is for the survival of the race, and thus the satisfaction of their divine charge. Of course, violent members, having taken philosophical lessons of superiority over the kine to heart, consider killing witnesses to vampiric acts an acceptable means of maintaining secrecy. Covenant leadership frowns on such brazen behavior and has been known to chastise or dispose of Sanctified who draw too much attention. They know, however, that to rein in the entirety of the young generations would vastly curtail their recruiting power — assuming they could do it at all — so they grit their teeth and make every effort to clean up after careless childer.
Guidance
All Sanctified are worthy of spiritual guidance. True believers in the covenant’s cause never turn away any vampire, of any affiliation, who seeks aid or advice on religious matters. In fact, covenant law prohibits members from refusing any such petition. Obviously, this stricture allows for reasonable interpretation. A Sanctified need not invite a known enemy into her Haven with open arms, nor must she stop in the middle of a gun battle to comfort a companion who’s having a crisis of faith. Where possible, however, the Lancea Sanctum serves the entirety of vampire society as priests and advisors, and it is through this reaching out that the group gains many of its most faithful adherents. Even if conversion is not viable, the covenant believes that by providing aid it can only bring other vampires that much closer to God.
Conversion
Those who will not voluntarily open their eyes must be forced to see. Violence is never the first choice, but if the undead refuse to come to the Lancea Sanctum, and if the Sanctified believe they can do so with minimal danger to their own standing, they have no qualms about shedding blood. Strictly speaking, conversion by the sword is impossible. A vampire can easily claim to have converted, and then flee at the first opportunity. Those who do not die can afford to wait for their chance. In regions where the covenant holds dominance, the Lancea Sanctum can enforce its laws and The Traditions with the most dire and horrifying of penalties. Other vampires in the territory might not actually believe as the Lancea Sanctum does, but by God they’re going to act as though they do! And who knows, maybe when they’ve been forced to behave like Sanctified for long enough, they’ll see the wisdom in such an unlifestyle.
Structure
Culture
Coterie Members
As the self-styled — and widely accepted — spiritual advisors of the Kindred, the more moderate members of the Lancea Sanctum work rather well with other Kindred, especially considering normal Kindred relations. Many take a keen interest in forming cosmopolitan coteries. On the other hand, a good number of the Sanctified are fanatics, something that can lead to frustration at best and the splitting of a coterie at worst, when an issue arises.Many of the Sanctified join cosmopolitan coteries that have spiritual interests or who are involved with Kindred history, especially anything related to The Testament of Longinus. They also offer their services as spiritual guides and advisors in religious matters, sometimes pressing their services upon others without having been invited to do so. Indeed, missionary work is the primary motive for the Sanctified to seek out Kindred from other covenants. Kindred from the Lancea Sanctum are also some of the most willing when it comes to being ordered to form a coterie, at least as long as the goals for the coterie seem worthwhile. Such directions, however, usually have more weight when the order comes from someone higher in the hierarchy of the Lancea Sanctum, as opposed to a high-ranking member of the city hierarchy who is not among the Sanctified. While the Lancea Sanctum isn’t quite as hierarchical and focused on ladderclimbing as The Invictus, its members tend to have just a bit less ambition and a bit more straightforward loyalty. Of course, this idealism can also be a problem if those Kindred they join are less idealistic.
In many ways, the Lancea Sanctum exemplifies the best and worst of a mixed-covenant coterie. When it works, the Sanctified can be the glue that holds the group together, the mediator, the one the others can come to with their problems, the Confessor figure offering absolution. For example, if an Invictus or Carthian Kindred finds herself experiencing extreme moral doubt and guilt over breaking one of the central laws of the Kindred, maybe having Embraced or endangered the Masquerade, a Sanctified counselor can listen to what the Kindred has to say, offer advice based on Kindred texts and prescribe a proper penance. Such Confessional work can often keep a Kindred from sliding into spiritual decay and losing herself to inhumanity.
When it doesn’t work, the Sanctified members often try to convert the others and insist that she should lead, on the basis of her supposed moralistic superiority. Few coteries can survive such a member. Yet those Sanctified who truly consider themselves the keepers of their fellow Kindred can sometime hold even extremely varied groups together by sheer perseverance and charisma. For example, a Sanctified Kindred might bring a member of the coterie who was sliding into moral decay back or rally the coterie in the face of overwhelming opposition with inspiring oration and leading by example. When it comes to Sanctified who consider themselves above their coterie-mates spiritually and morally, a few leave in exasperation, but many tough it out. They see the tribulation as a form of penance, believing they are doing good work or gaining satisfaction from the instances when they do get through to their coterie-mates.
Apart from spiritual advice, most Sanctified can offer their coterie at least some help from the Lancea Sanctum, unless she is totally at odds with her covenant (which might happen if the Sanctified in question shows too much interest in and sympathy with divergent beliefs espoused by her coteriemates). Help can come in the form of conversations with more experienced confessors or access to the covenant’s influence (which, while nowhere near as large as that of The Invictus, is still formidable).
Other Resources depend on the Kindred in question. A true disciple of the covenant will likely have a lot of insight to offer about The Testament of Longinus, which can help shed light on the Kindred condition, Kindred history or moral dilemmas faced by a coterie. The size and influence of the covenant means it harbors a number of politically savvy members as well. When it comes to influence within the Catholic Church, the Lancea Sanctum is second to none. This influence can be turned into a source of hard cash at the very least, but it can also provide access to experts in such fields as ancient languages, angelology, miracles or demonology.
In general, the Lancea Sanctum encourages cosmopolitan coteries, as it represents not only an opportunity for members to spread the faith, but also to be there for every Kindred the way the covenant is meant to. Sanctified leaders keep tabs on any covenant member who joins a coterie containing those Kindred whose spiritual beliefs run counter to those of the covenant, however. Some Santified also espouse the belief that it is healthy for members of the covenant to be exposed to other ideas and beliefs in order for them to consider their own and come to the conclusion that the Lancea Sanctum’s dogma is correct.
Unofficially, the Lancea Sanctum prefers cosmopolitan coteries in stable domains in which either it or The Invictus is dominant. The general belief is that not all members are strong enough in the faith, so it is best to have them be exposed to other ideas in a stable domain rather than a domain where they might be tempted to change covenants.
Nomads
The Sanctified, as a group, have no problem with a nomad Requiem… which is to say, Sanctified individuals have only the usual beefs with drifters. They don’t have any particular religious complaints, as there is no point at which Longinus is supposed to have said, “Find a place and stay there.” If anything, the Lancea Sanctum accept and support nomadism… to a point. It’s okay for the devout to travel about — in fact, “itinerants” are highly esteemed by some of the Sanctified. For those who don’t follow their faith, however, it’s a bad idea.This attitude — “okay for us, dubious for you” — isn’t quite as hypocritical as it seems. It’s a double standard, but one based on genuine ethical reasoning, not just convenience. One oftquoted (and very true) reason is that since undead travel is so harsh and dangerous, it can lead one to sacrifice holy traditions on the Altar of necessity. A hungry nomad is more likely to breach the Masquerade than someone established who has a lot more to lose. A lonesome drifter is more likely to impulsively Embrace someone for company. Who would be best equipped to avoid the repercussions of Diablerie? That’s right, a nomad with an escape plan.
The Lancea Sanctum, therefore, suspects travelers on general principles. Even drifters who claim Sanctified allegiance are eyed askance: After all, anyone can say he’s Sanctified and learn a few basic rituals. The proof of the matter is in action; by the time a poser tips his hand, he’s probably on the road again.
The flip side of this is the formal Sanctified messenger known as a Legate. Travelers lump them in with unofficial Sanctified nomads (for whom the covenant itself has a mysterious sobriquet: the Nepheshim) and call them “itinerants,” at least when they aren’t categorized with all religious Kindred as “circuit riders.”
The Legate serves multiple roles and is the Lancea's primary traveler.
Other Sanctified Nomads
As One might infer from the role of Legates, the Lancea Sanctum usually gives a neutral, if not chilly reception to most “unofficial” travelers who claim Lancea Sanctum allegiance. The attitude is very much, “Oh, you want to travel? And you’re Sanctified? So why aren’t you a Legate, hmm?” Either the socalled worshipper washed out, couldn’t get a Bishop’s sponsorship, or is just bullshitting about being Sanctified at all. None of those are options that inspire trust and camaraderie. On the other hand, a certain faction of “holy men” is whispered to exist within the Lancea Sanctum, and these “Nepheshim” as some outsiders have heard them called, enjoy great esteem. Exactly what distinguishes the Nepheshim from Legates or unsanctioned Mendicants is incomprehensible to those outside the covenant — no few of whom think that’s the whole point, anyway.On the whole, this is unfair to the legitimate itinerants, of course, many of whom are close companions to the exalted, Anointed Legates. Some Sanctified want to ramble but don’t want to have to put up with the dictates of every Bishop they meet. The price they pay is that their own covenant doesn’t give them much trust or support — or at least, nothing beyond what they’d give any outcast wanderer who showed up at the Temple. Some believers go nomad because they aren’t welcome in their home towns. Most just move somewhere more welcoming (New Orleans has a nice reputation for that, thanks to the Prince’s warm relationship with Legates) but a few find that wanderlust suits them.
Some proselytize, either to the townies or their fellow drifters. This can work for or against them, depending on their social skills. A charismatic Lancea revivalist can really get the locals fired up with some fresh ideas and rhetoric — and when you’ve been dead for a hundred years, fresh ideas are very welcome. On the other hand, the only thing worse than a boring religious devotee is a boring religious devotee who may tear your throat out if you yawn while he’s screeching at you.
Sanctified preachers who come into cities without temples and try to testify to the truth of Longinus’ sacrifice have a tough row to hoe. It’s not impossible for their seed to fall on fertile soil and jump-start a Lancea Sanctum revolution. but it’s profoundly unlikely and dangerous. Given the vampiric aversion to risk, it almost never happens. Then again, forever is a long time. Vampires who travel have a high proportion of crazies. So, for that matter, does the Lancea Sanctum.
The most fertile ground for a Sanctified Evangelist is more likely to be his fellow rovers. Life on the road is dangerous and lonesome Having a sympathetic ear, especially from someone who’s in the same boat… that’s a powerful attraction. If that listener seems engaged in the issues of the Requiem, has some sympathy and has some answers… well, that can be pretty hard to resist.
History
Demography and Population
Unlike The Invictus, which appeals more to elder vampires than young, or the Carthians, who tend toward the reverse, the Lancea Sanctum projects an equal appeal to undead of all ages. What an elder looks for in the covenant, however, is often not the same as what interests a neonate.
Most elders join for religious or spiritual reasons. Some come to the Sanctified seeking enlightenment and understanding. They have walked this Earth for many mortal lifetimes and have come to see that they — and their race — must have some higher purpose. They believe that God must have had some reason for making them what they are, and that Longinus’ philosophy offers them at least the first few steps on a path toward answers. Others join the covenant not to seek answers, but to provide them for others. Religious zealots often believe that the entire world would be better off if everyone simply turned to their own way of thinking, and the fanatics of the Lancea Sanctum are no exception. Many elders join (or remain with) the Sanctified not for their own sake, but for the sake of others. They would make all vampires everywhere understand what they are, what they should be and what they must do. They’ll all be better off, then — and those who must suffer and die in the process, well, it’s all for the best of reasons.
Of course, it would be foolish to imply that all Sanctified who seek the conversion of the entire undead race do so for altruistic reasons. Some want to convert their brethren only to exalt their own position. Surely God or at least their superiors in the covenant will eventually reward them. All they must do is prove themselves worthy by converting just a few more nonbelievers.
The majority of young vampires who are drawn to the covenant are enticed not by any deeply held religious convictions, but by a lack of those selfsame convictions and of any other solid sense of identity. The Lancea Sanctum, more than any other covenant (except possibly the Circle of the Crone), allows and even demands members to accept what they are. For a neonate seeking direction in something so drastically different from mortal life — casting about not only for someplace to belong but for someone who can provide answers for “Why?” and “How?” — few things are as comforting as being told that it is acceptable to be a monster. Even if the newcomer doesn’t believe it yet, being told that she has become something greater than she was is comforting in an unlife otherwise punctuated by new and alien urges.
Obviously, these are generalities, not hard-and-fast rules. Many neonates do indeed join the covenant because they already hold certain religious convictions, and many elders seek the same sense of belonging that attracts childer. And, of course, Sanctified of all ages join simply out of ambition, as advancement is often easier among the Lancea Sanctum than in other covenants.
New members of the covenant are required to make many gestures of commitment to Longinus, to God and to the goals of the faction. They engage in many rites and rituals, and undergo trials to test their fortitude and faith. These tests consist of everything from torture to theological debate. Trials aren’t necessarily used to determine whether a recruit may join the Lancea Sanctum, but those who make a good showing earn the respect of their new fellows. Those who do poorly face months if not years of derision and mockery, often sufficient to drive a new member away.
The Lancea Sanctum restricts no roles or offices by clan or bloodline, and the doors stand (theoretically) wide open. That said, stereotypes exist because of some grain of truth, and the same thing goes for the clans. Certain clans are thought to be good at some things, bad at others, and in some cases a role will be filled due to a prejudicial predilection from a Bishop or Archbishop. That leader may say, “I think we are losing our sway over the impressionable neonates — find me a Daeva to elevate to the priesthood.” Or, perhaps, “We require a fierce warrior to fill the shoes of a recently demised Bishop, but one who can be controlled when the need arises. A member of Clan Gangrel may suit the position.” Stereotypes, like it or not, lend themselves to judgments both good and bad. Below are explorations of how these stereotypes help to determine a clan’s place in the hierarchy of the Lancea Sanctum — and how those stereotypes can be defeated.
However, some Daeva see the covenant as a greater social challenge. The Invictus? Child’s play. The other three covenants? Upstart cabals with too little power. The real power, in some minds, exists in the hands of the Sanctified. Here, Daeva willing to submit to the covenant’s strident strictures will find that they are allowed to exalt their roles as “social predators.” That doesn’t mean that they can’t still manipulate their way up the ranks, either — it just means they have to be better than the rest to do so. Unfortunately, this lends itself to the problem that many Succubi within the covenant’s hierarchy are faithless. Such Kindred don’t honestly believe in whatever dogma the covenant practices (except for that part about lauding the predatory nature of the Kindred). Unfaithful Daeva work overtime to keep this impiety quiet. Even a highly social elder Daeva will have a hard time keeping her head once the covenant finds out that her beliefs in God and the Dark Prophet’s philosophies are little more than self-serving deceit. Of course, some Daeva are able to combine their fierce sociopolitical skills with a very real and zealous dedication to the precepts of the covenant. A Daeva such as this is a powerful force who will climb the ranks in surprisingly short order.
The Succubi are possibly the least numerous of the Sanctified, yet their impact on the covenant is arguably greater than that of the other clans. The type of Daeva most often drawn to the covenant is one who was relatively religious, or at least moral, in life, and who is both shocked and shamed by the compulsive debauchery that accompanies the Daeva Embrace. Such a vampire will be attracted to the covenant’s unusually ritualistic format, which allows a religiously inclined Kindred to find a context for her new existence. For example, a newly Embraced Daeva constantly tempted by sin might draw strength from Monachal rituals, which are comfortingly familiar to the Catholic services she attended in life, as well as the philosophy of The Monachal Creed, with its emphasis on God’s plan and deference to Sanctified hierarchy. Other less devout Sanctified follow the teachings of Longinus for precisely the opposite reason. That is, the structure of the covenant’s ritualism (especially communion and other rituals that involve pain or death), along with the covenant’s implicit faith in the Kindred’s superiority to the kine, permit a Daeva to pursue his darker, more sadistic impulses without suffering a catastrophic loss of Humanity.
Within the Lancea Sanctum, Daeva most commonly fall into roles that emphasize their social acumen. For example, Daeva Priests (and Bishops and Archbishops) tend to be among the most aggressive and successful evangelists for the Sanctified faith, since their supernatural gifts enable them to electrify audiences. For similar reasons, Daeva with performance skills are highly sought after as church sermonizers, diplomats, musicians and singers. More than one vampire has pointed to the Kindred’s use of the word “Requiem” to describe their collective unlives as a sign of the Daeva’s impact on the Lancea Sanctum, and vice versa. When a Succubus tenor takes the stage as Longinus in one of the covenant’s annual passion plays, his natural skill augmented by his Majesty, the audience can be counted upon to weep bloody tears.
For the most part, Daeva in the Lancea Sanctum aspire to the upper echelons, whatever form that may take in a given parish. Few become Cardinals: Is such a position really worth the work? Do the gains justify the commitment and sacrifice? Usually not. Archbishops and Bishops have most of the same powers (and in some cases, more) as a Cardinal, so the majority of the clan prefers to ascend to those positions and go no higher. A territory dominated by a Sanctified Daeva — especially one whose faith is mostly baseless — is usually somewhat different than other covenant-dominant parishes. While certainly not as “social” as The Invictus, the atmosphere still lends itself to greater political maneuverings as well as the predatory indulgences permitted by the Dark Prophet. Daeva in such position are wise to not go overboard (even an Archbishop can find herself targeted for heresy given the proper circumstances), but still hold more parties and salons than just the Gran Ballo.
The Succubi tend to do poorly in the covenant’s minor roles, and avoid such lowly work. While a minor role in The Invictus can have great effect, in the Lancea Sanctum it’s a case of being a small fish in a very big pond. Some Daeva settle nicely into the priesthood, accepting that the influence they have on individuals can travel throughout the domain, but anything less is an injustice to the Kindred’s own strength of personality. A few Daeva find their twisted social sensibilities well suited to the role of Inquisitor, but most find that the role is an ugly one better suited to the lesser clans (meaning anyone but them). On the other hand, a skilled Daeva can make an excellent “good cop,” casually persuading even the most resistant heretic or criminal to confess his sins. Of course, to more hardened Inquisitor or Crusader, Vigor is just as useful as Majesty; the crank on a torturer’s rack is often heavy and tends to stick.
One small role outside the standard hierarchy that suits the Daeva is that of Proselytizer (see p. 161). Localized evangelical movements within the covenant are often shepherded by members of this clan, and why not? Who better to evoke the philosophies of Longinus? A Daeva finds little problem with a role geared toward swaying and controlling others, whether such vocalizing is truly honest or vacant populism. Bringing the lost sheep back to the flock by the very nature of her own voice, charisma, and calculating manipulations? The Daeva make excellent Messengers.
Daeva can be found in any denomination, but seem to prefer the pageantry of traditional Monachal rites. Daeva are also influential in Exotheist churches, with the result that many Exotheist rites are even more shocking than their traditional counterparts. Daeva are uncommon in the White Sunday Movement, for whatever reasons local chapters theorize.
It’s this conflicting dichotomy that confuses the Lancea Sanctum with regard to its Gangrel members. What can be done with these Savages? Some high-ranking Sanctified dismiss them out of hand, hoping that they’ll come to Midnight Mass when able, and otherwise just stay out of covenant business except when called upon. Other covenant leaders (arguably the majority) try to find some place for Gangrel members. The general opinion is that the Gangrel make for wise and loyal devotees (much like a well-trained dog) but don’t do well as the public face of the covenant. As such, probably the most common roles found for the Savages in the Lancea Sanctum are among the more martial ranks, such as Inquisitors or Crusaders. The reasons are relatively clear. Inquisitors, by their nature, may need to work together but their Requiems are generally punctuated by loneliness (as not many Kindred are comfortable “hanging out” with a Sanctified Inquisitor). Inquisitors and Crusaders are, by and large, agents of fear. Sanctified Gangrel, even when they’re not involved with violent offices, are fearsome predators, so why not just marry the two concepts and have one incredibly frightening covenant skip-tracer? In fact, a Gangrel’s predatory instincts and direct forces of personality lend themselves rather well to an Inquisitor’s much-needed detection skills or a Crusader’s singularity of purpose. A properly trained and sufficiently devout Savage can do wonders when set on the trail of a hidden heretic. A fierce Gangrel warrior stubbornly devoted to the Lancea Sanctum veritably defines the term “holy terror.” If a Gangrel isn’t chosen to be an Inquisitor or Crusader, he may instead find a suitable role as a soldier or other hardy position such as an Ostiary or Legate. More than any other clan, the Gangrel are adept at surviving outside their chosen domains, and even in the wilds. Consequently, many a Gangrel serves her Bishop as messenger to foreign parishes, hoping that she will one night be trusted enough to perform important rituals on her master’s behalf as a Legate, thus gaining the Status of a Bishop-by-proxy that will elevate her above the Status of a common laymember.
Most attitudes within the covenant are respectful but Aloof regarding the Savages. While many Savages aren’t meant for political maneuvering or charismatic evangelism, others are capable in these areas but are given few opportunities to test such acumen by narrow-thinking covenant leaders. Savvy covenant leaders, however, refuse to make such hasty judgments. Many Savages are capable of transcending presumed stereotypes, and a wise covenant leader recognizes this — and wise covenant members don’t underestimate the Gangrel.
While it’s true that few Gangrel will ever become prodigal politicos who know how to twist the system into serving their schemes, it’s not true that Gangrel can’t become leaders in the Lancea Sanctum. Consider a Savage who has examined the metaphysical condition of being a vampire, and who has come to understand the Requiem in ways that most Kindred will never grasp. A Gangrel like this — with the appropriate pushing, prodding, and observation of social etiquette — can function as a more than serviceable spiritual leader. Such a vampire can do wonders preaching her predatory philosophy to an appropriate congregation, revealing the wonders of Sanctified mystagogy to the Herd. Moreover, a highly spiritualized Gangrel can make an excellent officiate of Apostolica, attending to the ceremonies with meticulous detail. These Savages do provide an excellent public face, because they can be shown as true examples of what it means to have acknowledged damnation and accepted the Beast. (On the other hand, covenant leaders need to keep a wary eye on such publican Gangrel — if the Beast within starts to become the Beast outside, the Savage may overly frighten a potential congregation.) Hence, some Gangrel will move toward the role of Priest or even Bishop. Only an exceptional minority has ever ascended past Bishop.
A Savage will rarely join the Lancea Sanctum unless his mortal faith was so strong that he is compelled to cling to it in some capacity, and the few who do join rarely seem to rise to positions of leadership. One reason for this is the Gangrel clan weakness. Mastery of Theban Sorcery, while not essential to advancement within the covenant, is often considered a sign of spiritual progress. A Gangrel will often find that his bestial nature prevents him from becoming proficient at Theban Sorcery, and thus, his career prospects dim. Gangrel who do serve the covenant directly most often do so in a lay capacity, as either deacons or paladins. In fact, a significant number of paladins are Gangrel, again since they are often potent warriors.
A significant number of Gangrel are attracted to The Tollison Creed, in part because its rustic nature is more consistent with the pre-Embrace religious experiences of the average Gangrel. More importantly, the White Sunday Movement has a long tradition of common-folk preachers who perform tent revivals for the edification of uncomplicated persons, a Requiem many religious Gangrel find appealing. In fact, certain domains find the Gangrel are the fastest growing clan upholding The Tollison Creed. Gangrel possess a hardiness that allows them to face Fire Dances with confidence, and their command over animals greatly simplifies snake-handling ceremonies. Gangrel also play a strong role in the Banu Shaitan, but can be found to some degree in every creed.
As such, the Mekhet make up a valuable constituency of Kindred in the covenant. Power and prominence are a siren’s call to the Shadows, and hence they assume many of the covenant’s most auspicious roles. With unyielding grace and dignity, many Mekhet set their sights on the roles of Priest and Bishop, and are usually Anointed into such positions over time. A few Mekhet aim to ascend to the ranks of Archbishop or even Cardinal, if only because such devotion has the potential to yield the most power and darkness. The covenant has some issues with the Mekhet that force the Sanctified to keep a wary eye on the Shadows, however. A Mekhet’s true loyalty is always in question. A Shadow may take to the darkness of the covenant quickly, but is such eagerness a sign of the vampire’s faith, or simply an indicator that the Kindred feels he can gain more advantage this way? If easy advantage can be found in the politics of another covenant, will the Shadow switch sides? Worse still, a Mekhet’s fondness and propensity for obscuration and subterfuge could mean that the vampire is playing the covenants against one another in an effort to maximize his own benefit. While the Lancea Sanctum is consistently glad to have such able vampires among its ranks, the Sanctified know that such “ability” can be a double-edged sword, indeed.
The bottom line is that Mekhet are ubiquitous in the covenant — if there’s a vacancy in a position, smart money suggests that the Lancea Sanctum will find candidates among the Shadows to fill the vacuum. Some Mekhet skirt treachery at times, but the right ancilla or elder can steer such a selfinterested vampire back to the proper path. Once a Mekhet’s faith is firm (at least for a time), the covenant believes her to be the edge it needs.
Without doubt, the Shadows present just as much a mystery to the Lancea Sanctum as they do to everyone else with whom they deal. Cosmopolitans as always, individual Mekhet can be found everywhere within the Lancea Sanctum, regardless of station or creed, whether among the clergy or the laity. Curiously, however, while the Mekhet’s numbers within the covenant are competitive with the other clans, the Shadows have disproportionately few members among the highest echelons of the covenant. This suggests no overt snub against the clan, but for some reason, the Lancea Sanctum as a whole seems not to trust Mekhet. In large part, this may simply be because of the Mekhet’s aforementioned “clan of shadows” motif; many Mekhet actively seem to desire being mistrusted by others, and a fairly conservative religious order like the Lancea Sanctum can be expected to react skeptically toward vampires who practice the acumen for misdirection wielded by the Shadows. For their part, Mekhet often seem to eschew the spotlight, preferring to serve as the Bishop’s indispensable right hand instead of as the Bishop herself.
Mekhet are most common among the Monachals Creed, the Dammitic Creed and the Exotheists. In fact, the Mekhet are numerous among the Exotheist movement, and many of its iconoclastic thinkers belong to that clan. Mekhet typically find the Westminster Creed to be redundant and insincere, unless going to church is a political necessity, in which case a Mekhet can sing hymns with the best of them. Very few Mekhet join Tollison-Creed denominations.
It’s not a wonderland of pleasant opportunity, however. The Nosferatu, for the most part, know that others fear and constantly keep them at a distance — but how is that different from anywhere else? Regardless of the Paranoia directed at the clan as a whole, the Haunts find a lot to like in the Lancea Sanctum. First, the covenant shuns any reliance upon beauty, vanity or baseless social pretenses. A Haunt is eerie or ugly — so what? If he’s a devoted believer in God and the acts of the Dark Prophet and ultimately supports the covenant, then most Sanctified couldn’t care less, and some even perceive the Nosferatu’s unsettling mien as bizarre forms of Stigmata. Also, and more importantly, the covenant offers one thing that many Nosferatu actively seek: answers regarding Kindred damnation. The Haunts are doubly damned, cursed by the Requiem and then made monstrous to boot. The Lancea Sanctum claims to have all the answers, and will actually teach the Nosferatu that they needn’t be ashamed of their condition, but should instead accept it and act within its boundaries. Desperate Nosferatu (specifically neonates) are hungry for such acceptance, and often join any group that offers sanctity for their accursed state.
Clearly, the Nosferatu can ably fill roles in the Sanctified covenant — specifically as object lessons, penitents and vicious warriors. But can they perform other, more significant functions? Moreover, will the Sanctified allow such disturbing monsters to ascend the ranks and become more than their stereotype suggests? The answer is yes and no.
Like the Gangrel, the Nosferatu face significant difficulties from the outset. Most Haunts encounter a “glass ceiling” that stops them from ever getting higher than the role of Priest in the Sanctified hierarchy. Before hitting this ceiling, however, Nosferatu have little trouble filling the lower and middle ranks of the Lancea Sanctum, and especially among the laity. Overall, the covenant prefers having the Haunts in such middle positions (deacons, Archivists, Priests). It allows the covenant to exploit the advantages of the Nosferatu while keeping the clan’s disadvantages from manifesting in positions where they could truly damage the Sanctified’s presence. Does that mean that Nosferatu have never ascended past the position of Priest? Of course not; it’s simply uncommon. Some Nosferatu — especially of the more urbane and cultured variety — are exceptional enough that promotions into the higher ranks won’t be denied.
Of course, the first step in achieving any power over the covenant is serving as a Priest, and few Nosferatu have the necessary charisma to excel in that role. In fact, most of the Nosferatu who have risen to prominence in the covenant, especially within the past century, have all served in nonclerical positions and then moved laterally into a position of clerical authority upon taking vows.
Nevertheless, many Nosferatu are quite pious in their devotion to the Lancea Sanctum, as they seek whatever purpose may exist behind their particularly odious curse. To that end, many Nosferatu serve as lay priests within their coteries, regardless of whether they ever formally take vows. Nosferatu who are especially devout often intentionally avoid leadership positions, sometimes believing themselves too debased to be worthy of such a post. Instead, those Nosferatu convinced of a particular Priest’s sanctity may choose to serve her in whatever capacity is needed. For example, Nosferatu make excellent Inquisitors: they are supremely effective brutes, and if Daeva use Majesty to “play the good cop,” then Nosferatu can just as efficiently use Nightmare to be the “bad cop.” Nosferatu also excel as paladins or even Crusaders, as their disciplines make them a match for most Kindred.
Nosferatu are found in all creeds, but are most prominent among The Monachal Creed and, to a lesser extent, The Tollison Creed. The clan’s presence in Westminster churches is negligible in general terms, though certain domains host surprisingly large Westminster congregations of haunts.
Ultimately, a Ventrue capable of proving her mettle can become an ideal covenant member indeed. Fiercely possessed of leadership skills, most Ventrue take little time to ascend the ranks. While an occasional personal prejudice against the clan might stop a few Ventrue from attaining key ranks in certain parishes, most manage to push their way (through genuine efficacy, cunning or deceit) to whatever role they believe is rightfully theirs. Quite a few prominent leaders within the Sanctified have been Ventrue; such will always be the case. The Ventrue see themselves as natural leaders, and as Sanctified their perceptions are no different.
A proverb common among young Ventrue states, “There are no Ventrue in middle management.” By that, the Lords mean that a Ventrue will either rise to the top of what every organization he joins, or he will remain in its lower echelons, since he only joined for the benefits of membership and doesn’t care to rise further. Within the Lancea Sanctum, this dictum holds true in a self-styled fashion, and after the Ventrue who serve as Archbishops and Bishops, the next most powerful representation of the clan is in the laity, rather than the lower level clergy. Of course, the Lords cannot help but pursue leadership roles in the Lancea Sanctum just as they do in everything else. The problem for the Ventrue is that being a leader in a religious organization means walking a fine line between one’s own ambitions and the extremes within the congregation. Consequently, a Ventrue whose lust for power outstrips his devotion to the holy cause may still rise to the level of Bishop, but he can lose his supporters in an instant if he betrays the core principles of the Sanctified faith to advance himself further. Ventrue are most likely to rise to positions of authority among the Monachal and Westminster Creeds, the latter of which was arguably founded in part out of a desire to merge Sanctified devotion and temporal pragmatism. Among the more conservative denominations, the best Ventrue leaders are actually those who are less ambitious than their clanmates. A Ventrue capable of ruling but not desiring the burden may yet seek power in spite of himself if he thinks he is the only Sanctified qualified for the job. Such leaders often combine humility (to the extent it can exist in a Ventrue) and efficiency in a potent combination.
Younger or less politically adroit Ventrue often serve as paladins, Crusaders, Ostiaries, Archivists or even occasionally Saints. In the martial case, Lords make good bodyguards because of their hardiness and because of lingering notions of chivalry often found among well-bred Ventrue.
One of the lesser-known covenant roles filled by a predominance of Ventrue is that of scout or spy, specifically one who goes deep undercover amid the ranks of rival covenants. It’s not well known, and the Sanctified would like to keep it that way. For example, the Ventrue often have an intimate, almost ancestral connection with The Invictus. This connection makes them excellent agents in the war of influences occasionally waged between the covenants in certain domains. The same Ventrue penchant for leadership that allows the Lords to rise in rank within the Lancea Sanctum applies to other covenants, too, and deep-cover diplomats might be found wherever tensions between covenants cause potential conflict.
Another little-known position within the covenant, albeit among the lay faction, is the role of patron or benefactor. While the title is unofficial and carries little actual authority, the role seems tailor-built to suit Sanctified Ventrue. While technically the covenant frowns on such a reliance of money, the reality is that the covenant cannot continue on without its own funding or largesse from its faithful — hence the usage of the largely unsanctioned role of patron. A patron of the Lancea Sanctum is a money-man, channeling funds to fuel the covenant’s needs. As a lay member, a Ventrue can often exert considerable influence over the local clergy by acquiring temporal and financial power and then placing it at the Bishop’s disposal. Thus, clergy in most domains, regardless of their own clan, appoint Ventrue as deacons or benefactors to satisfy the material needs of the church. A benefactor isn’t rebuked when commenting on covenant policy or plans for a parish, and is even allowed to sit in on the occasional meeting of the Synod (though unlikely one that would grant him needless or damaging advantage). The position is a strictly pay-for-play arrangement. If the patron’s funds dry up or he stops the flow of money to the covenant’s coffers, then so does the little power he possesses.
As a clan, the Ventrue are surprisingly prominent among the laity. A Ventrue of faith may realize that, regardless of her devotion, she either lacks the personal charisma to be an effective minister or else that the realities of religious vows are more than she can bear.
As mentioned before, most Ventrue find comfort (or pious suffering) among the Monachal and Westminster Creeds. Certain bloodlines of Ventrue follow the Dammitic Creed out of tradition or religious upbringing. Relatively few Ventrue involve themselves with The Tollison Creed, and similarly small numbers bother with such things as Exotheism.
Most elders join for religious or spiritual reasons. Some come to the Sanctified seeking enlightenment and understanding. They have walked this Earth for many mortal lifetimes and have come to see that they — and their race — must have some higher purpose. They believe that God must have had some reason for making them what they are, and that Longinus’ philosophy offers them at least the first few steps on a path toward answers. Others join the covenant not to seek answers, but to provide them for others. Religious zealots often believe that the entire world would be better off if everyone simply turned to their own way of thinking, and the fanatics of the Lancea Sanctum are no exception. Many elders join (or remain with) the Sanctified not for their own sake, but for the sake of others. They would make all vampires everywhere understand what they are, what they should be and what they must do. They’ll all be better off, then — and those who must suffer and die in the process, well, it’s all for the best of reasons.
Of course, it would be foolish to imply that all Sanctified who seek the conversion of the entire undead race do so for altruistic reasons. Some want to convert their brethren only to exalt their own position. Surely God or at least their superiors in the covenant will eventually reward them. All they must do is prove themselves worthy by converting just a few more nonbelievers.
The majority of young vampires who are drawn to the covenant are enticed not by any deeply held religious convictions, but by a lack of those selfsame convictions and of any other solid sense of identity. The Lancea Sanctum, more than any other covenant (except possibly the Circle of the Crone), allows and even demands members to accept what they are. For a neonate seeking direction in something so drastically different from mortal life — casting about not only for someplace to belong but for someone who can provide answers for “Why?” and “How?” — few things are as comforting as being told that it is acceptable to be a monster. Even if the newcomer doesn’t believe it yet, being told that she has become something greater than she was is comforting in an unlife otherwise punctuated by new and alien urges.
Obviously, these are generalities, not hard-and-fast rules. Many neonates do indeed join the covenant because they already hold certain religious convictions, and many elders seek the same sense of belonging that attracts childer. And, of course, Sanctified of all ages join simply out of ambition, as advancement is often easier among the Lancea Sanctum than in other covenants.
New members of the covenant are required to make many gestures of commitment to Longinus, to God and to the goals of the faction. They engage in many rites and rituals, and undergo trials to test their fortitude and faith. These tests consist of everything from torture to theological debate. Trials aren’t necessarily used to determine whether a recruit may join the Lancea Sanctum, but those who make a good showing earn the respect of their new fellows. Those who do poorly face months if not years of derision and mockery, often sufficient to drive a new member away.
Clan Roles in the Lancea Sanctum
A clan is one thing; its members are another. Individuals are able to have any role in the covenant that their hearts desire — provided they’re willing to sweat blood and sacrifice their Requiems for the good of the covenant. The Lancea Sanctum joins all its adherents, regardless of clan or bloodline, into a common religion. However, each lineage brings unique characteristics to the covenant. Often, a Sanctified belonging to a specific clan will naturally fall into specific roles within the covenant. Just as often, however, clan members will find unusual and unexpected ways to serve God. In many cases, members of specific clans or bloodlines have actively set out to find such a unique niche, such as by forming a monastic order, a fraternal organization, or some other comparable group in which blood kin can join with their fellows.The Lancea Sanctum restricts no roles or offices by clan or bloodline, and the doors stand (theoretically) wide open. That said, stereotypes exist because of some grain of truth, and the same thing goes for the clans. Certain clans are thought to be good at some things, bad at others, and in some cases a role will be filled due to a prejudicial predilection from a Bishop or Archbishop. That leader may say, “I think we are losing our sway over the impressionable neonates — find me a Daeva to elevate to the priesthood.” Or, perhaps, “We require a fierce warrior to fill the shoes of a recently demised Bishop, but one who can be controlled when the need arises. A member of Clan Gangrel may suit the position.” Stereotypes, like it or not, lend themselves to judgments both good and bad. Below are explorations of how these stereotypes help to determine a clan’s place in the hierarchy of the Lancea Sanctum — and how those stereotypes can be defeated.
Daeva
The Daeva are often the public face of the Lancea Sanctum, and it is for this reason that many Kindred hold a misguided belief that the clan holds a vastly disproportionate place at upper levels of the Sanctified hierarchy. The truth is, their propensity to remain in the limelight (even in a cold, regimented covenant like the Lancea Sanctum) lends the impression that they are quite populous. Generally speaking, the Daeva have little interest in the ideals of the Sanctified. The clan favors excess and opulence, and often looks to be the paragons of the social elite — ideals that the Sanctified consider inferior to matters of the spirit. The covenant can be an austere, sometimes Spartan institution. The Sanctified have little use for most social maneuvering (in theory, not necessarily in practice).However, some Daeva see the covenant as a greater social challenge. The Invictus? Child’s play. The other three covenants? Upstart cabals with too little power. The real power, in some minds, exists in the hands of the Sanctified. Here, Daeva willing to submit to the covenant’s strident strictures will find that they are allowed to exalt their roles as “social predators.” That doesn’t mean that they can’t still manipulate their way up the ranks, either — it just means they have to be better than the rest to do so. Unfortunately, this lends itself to the problem that many Succubi within the covenant’s hierarchy are faithless. Such Kindred don’t honestly believe in whatever dogma the covenant practices (except for that part about lauding the predatory nature of the Kindred). Unfaithful Daeva work overtime to keep this impiety quiet. Even a highly social elder Daeva will have a hard time keeping her head once the covenant finds out that her beliefs in God and the Dark Prophet’s philosophies are little more than self-serving deceit. Of course, some Daeva are able to combine their fierce sociopolitical skills with a very real and zealous dedication to the precepts of the covenant. A Daeva such as this is a powerful force who will climb the ranks in surprisingly short order.
The Succubi are possibly the least numerous of the Sanctified, yet their impact on the covenant is arguably greater than that of the other clans. The type of Daeva most often drawn to the covenant is one who was relatively religious, or at least moral, in life, and who is both shocked and shamed by the compulsive debauchery that accompanies the Daeva Embrace. Such a vampire will be attracted to the covenant’s unusually ritualistic format, which allows a religiously inclined Kindred to find a context for her new existence. For example, a newly Embraced Daeva constantly tempted by sin might draw strength from Monachal rituals, which are comfortingly familiar to the Catholic services she attended in life, as well as the philosophy of The Monachal Creed, with its emphasis on God’s plan and deference to Sanctified hierarchy. Other less devout Sanctified follow the teachings of Longinus for precisely the opposite reason. That is, the structure of the covenant’s ritualism (especially communion and other rituals that involve pain or death), along with the covenant’s implicit faith in the Kindred’s superiority to the kine, permit a Daeva to pursue his darker, more sadistic impulses without suffering a catastrophic loss of Humanity.
Within the Lancea Sanctum, Daeva most commonly fall into roles that emphasize their social acumen. For example, Daeva Priests (and Bishops and Archbishops) tend to be among the most aggressive and successful evangelists for the Sanctified faith, since their supernatural gifts enable them to electrify audiences. For similar reasons, Daeva with performance skills are highly sought after as church sermonizers, diplomats, musicians and singers. More than one vampire has pointed to the Kindred’s use of the word “Requiem” to describe their collective unlives as a sign of the Daeva’s impact on the Lancea Sanctum, and vice versa. When a Succubus tenor takes the stage as Longinus in one of the covenant’s annual passion plays, his natural skill augmented by his Majesty, the audience can be counted upon to weep bloody tears.
For the most part, Daeva in the Lancea Sanctum aspire to the upper echelons, whatever form that may take in a given parish. Few become Cardinals: Is such a position really worth the work? Do the gains justify the commitment and sacrifice? Usually not. Archbishops and Bishops have most of the same powers (and in some cases, more) as a Cardinal, so the majority of the clan prefers to ascend to those positions and go no higher. A territory dominated by a Sanctified Daeva — especially one whose faith is mostly baseless — is usually somewhat different than other covenant-dominant parishes. While certainly not as “social” as The Invictus, the atmosphere still lends itself to greater political maneuverings as well as the predatory indulgences permitted by the Dark Prophet. Daeva in such position are wise to not go overboard (even an Archbishop can find herself targeted for heresy given the proper circumstances), but still hold more parties and salons than just the Gran Ballo.
The Succubi tend to do poorly in the covenant’s minor roles, and avoid such lowly work. While a minor role in The Invictus can have great effect, in the Lancea Sanctum it’s a case of being a small fish in a very big pond. Some Daeva settle nicely into the priesthood, accepting that the influence they have on individuals can travel throughout the domain, but anything less is an injustice to the Kindred’s own strength of personality. A few Daeva find their twisted social sensibilities well suited to the role of Inquisitor, but most find that the role is an ugly one better suited to the lesser clans (meaning anyone but them). On the other hand, a skilled Daeva can make an excellent “good cop,” casually persuading even the most resistant heretic or criminal to confess his sins. Of course, to more hardened Inquisitor or Crusader, Vigor is just as useful as Majesty; the crank on a torturer’s rack is often heavy and tends to stick.
One small role outside the standard hierarchy that suits the Daeva is that of Proselytizer (see p. 161). Localized evangelical movements within the covenant are often shepherded by members of this clan, and why not? Who better to evoke the philosophies of Longinus? A Daeva finds little problem with a role geared toward swaying and controlling others, whether such vocalizing is truly honest or vacant populism. Bringing the lost sheep back to the flock by the very nature of her own voice, charisma, and calculating manipulations? The Daeva make excellent Messengers.
Daeva can be found in any denomination, but seem to prefer the pageantry of traditional Monachal rites. Daeva are also influential in Exotheist churches, with the result that many Exotheist rites are even more shocking than their traditional counterparts. Daeva are uncommon in the White Sunday Movement, for whatever reasons local chapters theorize.
Gangrel
Members of Clan Gangrel are a curious fit within the rank and file of the Sanctified. Sadly, many inside the Lancea Sanctum don’t know exactly what to make of the Savages, or even what to do with them. Here is a clan whose members are ostensibly at home with their damnation. They don’t necessarily celebrate their predatory condition, but they certainly accept and understand it. The Gangrel know that they are vampires and hold few illusions regarding their old selves (meaning their mortal lives), and this is one of the core concepts espoused by the Sanctified. On the other hand, the Savages aren’t big “joiners.” The Gangrel prefer to play out their Requiems on their own terms, and to hell with the acquisitive, greasy politics and manipulations so cherished by the rest of the Kindred. Their propensity to understand the Beast within contributes to this atavistic instinct — as their animalistic side threatens their rational minds, they have few worries about polluting what entanglements are present, because when the Beast hungers, there are no entanglements.It’s this conflicting dichotomy that confuses the Lancea Sanctum with regard to its Gangrel members. What can be done with these Savages? Some high-ranking Sanctified dismiss them out of hand, hoping that they’ll come to Midnight Mass when able, and otherwise just stay out of covenant business except when called upon. Other covenant leaders (arguably the majority) try to find some place for Gangrel members. The general opinion is that the Gangrel make for wise and loyal devotees (much like a well-trained dog) but don’t do well as the public face of the covenant. As such, probably the most common roles found for the Savages in the Lancea Sanctum are among the more martial ranks, such as Inquisitors or Crusaders. The reasons are relatively clear. Inquisitors, by their nature, may need to work together but their Requiems are generally punctuated by loneliness (as not many Kindred are comfortable “hanging out” with a Sanctified Inquisitor). Inquisitors and Crusaders are, by and large, agents of fear. Sanctified Gangrel, even when they’re not involved with violent offices, are fearsome predators, so why not just marry the two concepts and have one incredibly frightening covenant skip-tracer? In fact, a Gangrel’s predatory instincts and direct forces of personality lend themselves rather well to an Inquisitor’s much-needed detection skills or a Crusader’s singularity of purpose. A properly trained and sufficiently devout Savage can do wonders when set on the trail of a hidden heretic. A fierce Gangrel warrior stubbornly devoted to the Lancea Sanctum veritably defines the term “holy terror.” If a Gangrel isn’t chosen to be an Inquisitor or Crusader, he may instead find a suitable role as a soldier or other hardy position such as an Ostiary or Legate. More than any other clan, the Gangrel are adept at surviving outside their chosen domains, and even in the wilds. Consequently, many a Gangrel serves her Bishop as messenger to foreign parishes, hoping that she will one night be trusted enough to perform important rituals on her master’s behalf as a Legate, thus gaining the Status of a Bishop-by-proxy that will elevate her above the Status of a common laymember.
Most attitudes within the covenant are respectful but Aloof regarding the Savages. While many Savages aren’t meant for political maneuvering or charismatic evangelism, others are capable in these areas but are given few opportunities to test such acumen by narrow-thinking covenant leaders. Savvy covenant leaders, however, refuse to make such hasty judgments. Many Savages are capable of transcending presumed stereotypes, and a wise covenant leader recognizes this — and wise covenant members don’t underestimate the Gangrel.
While it’s true that few Gangrel will ever become prodigal politicos who know how to twist the system into serving their schemes, it’s not true that Gangrel can’t become leaders in the Lancea Sanctum. Consider a Savage who has examined the metaphysical condition of being a vampire, and who has come to understand the Requiem in ways that most Kindred will never grasp. A Gangrel like this — with the appropriate pushing, prodding, and observation of social etiquette — can function as a more than serviceable spiritual leader. Such a vampire can do wonders preaching her predatory philosophy to an appropriate congregation, revealing the wonders of Sanctified mystagogy to the Herd. Moreover, a highly spiritualized Gangrel can make an excellent officiate of Apostolica, attending to the ceremonies with meticulous detail. These Savages do provide an excellent public face, because they can be shown as true examples of what it means to have acknowledged damnation and accepted the Beast. (On the other hand, covenant leaders need to keep a wary eye on such publican Gangrel — if the Beast within starts to become the Beast outside, the Savage may overly frighten a potential congregation.) Hence, some Gangrel will move toward the role of Priest or even Bishop. Only an exceptional minority has ever ascended past Bishop.
A Savage will rarely join the Lancea Sanctum unless his mortal faith was so strong that he is compelled to cling to it in some capacity, and the few who do join rarely seem to rise to positions of leadership. One reason for this is the Gangrel clan weakness. Mastery of Theban Sorcery, while not essential to advancement within the covenant, is often considered a sign of spiritual progress. A Gangrel will often find that his bestial nature prevents him from becoming proficient at Theban Sorcery, and thus, his career prospects dim. Gangrel who do serve the covenant directly most often do so in a lay capacity, as either deacons or paladins. In fact, a significant number of paladins are Gangrel, again since they are often potent warriors.
A significant number of Gangrel are attracted to The Tollison Creed, in part because its rustic nature is more consistent with the pre-Embrace religious experiences of the average Gangrel. More importantly, the White Sunday Movement has a long tradition of common-folk preachers who perform tent revivals for the edification of uncomplicated persons, a Requiem many religious Gangrel find appealing. In fact, certain domains find the Gangrel are the fastest growing clan upholding The Tollison Creed. Gangrel possess a hardiness that allows them to face Fire Dances with confidence, and their command over animals greatly simplifies snake-handling ceremonies. Gangrel also play a strong role in the Banu Shaitan, but can be found to some degree in every creed.
Mekhet
The Shadows make excellent Sanctified. The covenant offers much that appeals to most Mekhet sensibilities. For one, the Lancea Sanctum is a highly regimented religious order, stratified with layers of politics and secrecy. Many Shadows find such hierarchy appealing, knowing first that they can maneuver easily within such parameters, and second that the secrecy of the covenant affords many advantages. Such advantages include hidden power, access to ancient mysteries, or simply the ability to hide and disappear within the covenant’s ranks. The Lancea Sanctum is not an organization of passivity — no, the covenant prefers action, and in that action speaks to the spiritual wellbeing all of Kindred. Seeing as how the spirit of the Kindred damnation is undeniably one of darkness, the Shadows see this covenant as a natural ally.As such, the Mekhet make up a valuable constituency of Kindred in the covenant. Power and prominence are a siren’s call to the Shadows, and hence they assume many of the covenant’s most auspicious roles. With unyielding grace and dignity, many Mekhet set their sights on the roles of Priest and Bishop, and are usually Anointed into such positions over time. A few Mekhet aim to ascend to the ranks of Archbishop or even Cardinal, if only because such devotion has the potential to yield the most power and darkness. The covenant has some issues with the Mekhet that force the Sanctified to keep a wary eye on the Shadows, however. A Mekhet’s true loyalty is always in question. A Shadow may take to the darkness of the covenant quickly, but is such eagerness a sign of the vampire’s faith, or simply an indicator that the Kindred feels he can gain more advantage this way? If easy advantage can be found in the politics of another covenant, will the Shadow switch sides? Worse still, a Mekhet’s fondness and propensity for obscuration and subterfuge could mean that the vampire is playing the covenants against one another in an effort to maximize his own benefit. While the Lancea Sanctum is consistently glad to have such able vampires among its ranks, the Sanctified know that such “ability” can be a double-edged sword, indeed.
The bottom line is that Mekhet are ubiquitous in the covenant — if there’s a vacancy in a position, smart money suggests that the Lancea Sanctum will find candidates among the Shadows to fill the vacuum. Some Mekhet skirt treachery at times, but the right ancilla or elder can steer such a selfinterested vampire back to the proper path. Once a Mekhet’s faith is firm (at least for a time), the covenant believes her to be the edge it needs.
Without doubt, the Shadows present just as much a mystery to the Lancea Sanctum as they do to everyone else with whom they deal. Cosmopolitans as always, individual Mekhet can be found everywhere within the Lancea Sanctum, regardless of station or creed, whether among the clergy or the laity. Curiously, however, while the Mekhet’s numbers within the covenant are competitive with the other clans, the Shadows have disproportionately few members among the highest echelons of the covenant. This suggests no overt snub against the clan, but for some reason, the Lancea Sanctum as a whole seems not to trust Mekhet. In large part, this may simply be because of the Mekhet’s aforementioned “clan of shadows” motif; many Mekhet actively seem to desire being mistrusted by others, and a fairly conservative religious order like the Lancea Sanctum can be expected to react skeptically toward vampires who practice the acumen for misdirection wielded by the Shadows. For their part, Mekhet often seem to eschew the spotlight, preferring to serve as the Bishop’s indispensable right hand instead of as the Bishop herself.
Mekhet are most common among the Monachals Creed, the Dammitic Creed and the Exotheists. In fact, the Mekhet are numerous among the Exotheist movement, and many of its iconoclastic thinkers belong to that clan. Mekhet typically find the Westminster Creed to be redundant and insincere, unless going to church is a political necessity, in which case a Mekhet can sing hymns with the best of them. Very few Mekhet join Tollison-Creed denominations.
Nosferatu
As might be suspected, the Haunts fill a broad niche among the Lancea Sanctum. All manner of Nosferatu claim membership in the covenant, from those truly miserable monsters who wear their curse like a hair shirt to the truly horrific terrors of the night who strike fear in mortals and Kindred alike. Haunts of more moderate temperaments find their place in the covenant, as well, including some enlightened philosophers, clever officials and devout ascetics. Many Nosferatu see the Lancea Sanctum as a church in which to excoriate their souls or succeed in spite of their monstrous selves.It’s not a wonderland of pleasant opportunity, however. The Nosferatu, for the most part, know that others fear and constantly keep them at a distance — but how is that different from anywhere else? Regardless of the Paranoia directed at the clan as a whole, the Haunts find a lot to like in the Lancea Sanctum. First, the covenant shuns any reliance upon beauty, vanity or baseless social pretenses. A Haunt is eerie or ugly — so what? If he’s a devoted believer in God and the acts of the Dark Prophet and ultimately supports the covenant, then most Sanctified couldn’t care less, and some even perceive the Nosferatu’s unsettling mien as bizarre forms of Stigmata. Also, and more importantly, the covenant offers one thing that many Nosferatu actively seek: answers regarding Kindred damnation. The Haunts are doubly damned, cursed by the Requiem and then made monstrous to boot. The Lancea Sanctum claims to have all the answers, and will actually teach the Nosferatu that they needn’t be ashamed of their condition, but should instead accept it and act within its boundaries. Desperate Nosferatu (specifically neonates) are hungry for such acceptance, and often join any group that offers sanctity for their accursed state.
Clearly, the Nosferatu can ably fill roles in the Sanctified covenant — specifically as object lessons, penitents and vicious warriors. But can they perform other, more significant functions? Moreover, will the Sanctified allow such disturbing monsters to ascend the ranks and become more than their stereotype suggests? The answer is yes and no.
Like the Gangrel, the Nosferatu face significant difficulties from the outset. Most Haunts encounter a “glass ceiling” that stops them from ever getting higher than the role of Priest in the Sanctified hierarchy. Before hitting this ceiling, however, Nosferatu have little trouble filling the lower and middle ranks of the Lancea Sanctum, and especially among the laity. Overall, the covenant prefers having the Haunts in such middle positions (deacons, Archivists, Priests). It allows the covenant to exploit the advantages of the Nosferatu while keeping the clan’s disadvantages from manifesting in positions where they could truly damage the Sanctified’s presence. Does that mean that Nosferatu have never ascended past the position of Priest? Of course not; it’s simply uncommon. Some Nosferatu — especially of the more urbane and cultured variety — are exceptional enough that promotions into the higher ranks won’t be denied.
Of course, the first step in achieving any power over the covenant is serving as a Priest, and few Nosferatu have the necessary charisma to excel in that role. In fact, most of the Nosferatu who have risen to prominence in the covenant, especially within the past century, have all served in nonclerical positions and then moved laterally into a position of clerical authority upon taking vows.
Nevertheless, many Nosferatu are quite pious in their devotion to the Lancea Sanctum, as they seek whatever purpose may exist behind their particularly odious curse. To that end, many Nosferatu serve as lay priests within their coteries, regardless of whether they ever formally take vows. Nosferatu who are especially devout often intentionally avoid leadership positions, sometimes believing themselves too debased to be worthy of such a post. Instead, those Nosferatu convinced of a particular Priest’s sanctity may choose to serve her in whatever capacity is needed. For example, Nosferatu make excellent Inquisitors: they are supremely effective brutes, and if Daeva use Majesty to “play the good cop,” then Nosferatu can just as efficiently use Nightmare to be the “bad cop.” Nosferatu also excel as paladins or even Crusaders, as their disciplines make them a match for most Kindred.
Nosferatu are found in all creeds, but are most prominent among The Monachal Creed and, to a lesser extent, The Tollison Creed. The clan’s presence in Westminster churches is negligible in general terms, though certain domains host surprisingly large Westminster congregations of haunts.
Ventrue
Strangely, the Ventrue’s association with the temporal power hinders them frequently in their relationships with the Lancea Sanctum. Others consider the clan distracted in pursuit of the worldly sphere — rustic anachronisms with dogs curled at their feet, or even soulless profit-mongers seeking to turn the Word of Longinus into filthy lucre. Of course, while the Ventrue often do have obvious interests in these areas, they are not united as a clan or unavoidably predisposed that way. As such, if a Ventrue wishes to truly become part of the Lancea Sanctum, she will have the chance to make her own way — but not without the appropriate weighing of merit. Before allowing a Ventrue into the clergy, many covenant leaders will dig deep into his history and lineage to confirm that there are no obvious betrayals, treacheries or unseemly ambitions. If such blemishes do exist (and if the Ventrue is particularly forthright with them), the covenant may well require tests of loyalty to confirm her allegiance with the Sanctified. Such tests are often extreme (sometimes needlessly so), and tend to require the Lord to perform some symbolic task against further indiscretions, whether it means cementing Sanctified influence over mortal institutions or quieting a local figurehead antagonistic toward the covenant.Ultimately, a Ventrue capable of proving her mettle can become an ideal covenant member indeed. Fiercely possessed of leadership skills, most Ventrue take little time to ascend the ranks. While an occasional personal prejudice against the clan might stop a few Ventrue from attaining key ranks in certain parishes, most manage to push their way (through genuine efficacy, cunning or deceit) to whatever role they believe is rightfully theirs. Quite a few prominent leaders within the Sanctified have been Ventrue; such will always be the case. The Ventrue see themselves as natural leaders, and as Sanctified their perceptions are no different.
A proverb common among young Ventrue states, “There are no Ventrue in middle management.” By that, the Lords mean that a Ventrue will either rise to the top of what every organization he joins, or he will remain in its lower echelons, since he only joined for the benefits of membership and doesn’t care to rise further. Within the Lancea Sanctum, this dictum holds true in a self-styled fashion, and after the Ventrue who serve as Archbishops and Bishops, the next most powerful representation of the clan is in the laity, rather than the lower level clergy. Of course, the Lords cannot help but pursue leadership roles in the Lancea Sanctum just as they do in everything else. The problem for the Ventrue is that being a leader in a religious organization means walking a fine line between one’s own ambitions and the extremes within the congregation. Consequently, a Ventrue whose lust for power outstrips his devotion to the holy cause may still rise to the level of Bishop, but he can lose his supporters in an instant if he betrays the core principles of the Sanctified faith to advance himself further. Ventrue are most likely to rise to positions of authority among the Monachal and Westminster Creeds, the latter of which was arguably founded in part out of a desire to merge Sanctified devotion and temporal pragmatism. Among the more conservative denominations, the best Ventrue leaders are actually those who are less ambitious than their clanmates. A Ventrue capable of ruling but not desiring the burden may yet seek power in spite of himself if he thinks he is the only Sanctified qualified for the job. Such leaders often combine humility (to the extent it can exist in a Ventrue) and efficiency in a potent combination.
Younger or less politically adroit Ventrue often serve as paladins, Crusaders, Ostiaries, Archivists or even occasionally Saints. In the martial case, Lords make good bodyguards because of their hardiness and because of lingering notions of chivalry often found among well-bred Ventrue.
One of the lesser-known covenant roles filled by a predominance of Ventrue is that of scout or spy, specifically one who goes deep undercover amid the ranks of rival covenants. It’s not well known, and the Sanctified would like to keep it that way. For example, the Ventrue often have an intimate, almost ancestral connection with The Invictus. This connection makes them excellent agents in the war of influences occasionally waged between the covenants in certain domains. The same Ventrue penchant for leadership that allows the Lords to rise in rank within the Lancea Sanctum applies to other covenants, too, and deep-cover diplomats might be found wherever tensions between covenants cause potential conflict.
Another little-known position within the covenant, albeit among the lay faction, is the role of patron or benefactor. While the title is unofficial and carries little actual authority, the role seems tailor-built to suit Sanctified Ventrue. While technically the covenant frowns on such a reliance of money, the reality is that the covenant cannot continue on without its own funding or largesse from its faithful — hence the usage of the largely unsanctioned role of patron. A patron of the Lancea Sanctum is a money-man, channeling funds to fuel the covenant’s needs. As a lay member, a Ventrue can often exert considerable influence over the local clergy by acquiring temporal and financial power and then placing it at the Bishop’s disposal. Thus, clergy in most domains, regardless of their own clan, appoint Ventrue as deacons or benefactors to satisfy the material needs of the church. A benefactor isn’t rebuked when commenting on covenant policy or plans for a parish, and is even allowed to sit in on the occasional meeting of the Synod (though unlikely one that would grant him needless or damaging advantage). The position is a strictly pay-for-play arrangement. If the patron’s funds dry up or he stops the flow of money to the covenant’s coffers, then so does the little power he possesses.
As a clan, the Ventrue are surprisingly prominent among the laity. A Ventrue of faith may realize that, regardless of her devotion, she either lacks the personal charisma to be an effective minister or else that the realities of religious vows are more than she can bear.
As mentioned before, most Ventrue find comfort (or pious suffering) among the Monachal and Westminster Creeds. Certain bloodlines of Ventrue follow the Dammitic Creed out of tradition or religious upbringing. Relatively few Ventrue involve themselves with The Tollison Creed, and similarly small numbers bother with such things as Exotheism.
Foreign Relations
If one thing can be said of the Lancea Sanctum’s approach to other covenants (and even to other supernatural creatures), it’s that although the covenant may have an official position, the actions of individual Sanctified always hinge on personal interpretations of Longinus’ words. The version of the Testament of Longinus in each Sanctified mind is at least a little different, so even Sanctified whose views on a particular type of outsider are completely opposed to the covenant’s as a whole can defend her ways with scriptural justification. As long as the safety of the Lancea Sanctum and The Traditions aren’t threatened, other Sanctified typically judge in silence, as it’s paramount to their belief to allow every one of the Damned enough room to damn herself if she so chooses.
The Sanctified have many nights — and the patience — to make converts of their enemies, so they have time to entertain numerous allegiances and seemingly uncharacteristic partnerships for the greater good of the covenant. In practice, the Sanctified of some domains are willing to forego the conversion or destruction of Kindred considered to be lost causes — things may change in future nights to recover or redeem such causes, after all. Even hard-nosed members of the Lancea Sanctum accept that uncooperative monsters may be more useful on their feet than in ashes.
The Lancea Sanctum carefully balances its interactions with outside factions against its image as a holy army of unshakeable crusaders. Missionaries may be cooperative and tolerant, but a few nights’ ride behind them may be a battalion of unquestioning dark paladins. A Priest may be willing to reason with you, but she is just a chaplain on the fringe of a bloodthirsty army extinguishing heathens in the name of God. It’s not uncommon for Kindred to regard the Lancea Sanctum as a brutal order of medieval warrior-priests… except for the local parish.
The Sanctified fight with confidence and without remorse. They strike when and where a victory can take on symbolic meaning, where the enemy’s losses can echo throughout the domain. They destroy the people their enemies rely on and topple targets that collapse the frameworks of hostile forces.
As combatants, the Sanctified join Meditation with force, contemplative strategizing with majestic might, and patience with bravery. The Lancea Sanctum prefers ending conflicts to starting them, though they do sometimes provoke battles they know they can win. It is better to win absolutely than to win now.
Werewolves may be admirable creatures, but they are not meant to be the Allies of the Sanctified. If they were, God would have revealed them to Longinus. The Lupines’ methods and excellence may be appreciated, but a Lupine should never be celebrated. Whereas the Damned are holy predators doing exalted work, werewolves are simply supernatural animals. They may (or may not, suppositions vary) contain a human soul, but they are more animal than human and therefore beneath humans.
In ages past, the Lancea Sanctum has devoted substantial Resources to fretting about Lupines, keeping tabs on them and even sometimes protecting a mortal flock from them (so that they may be preyed upon by thepredators God intended). In the modern nights, the Sanctified stay clear of them when possible. Blood spilt and flesh burned in combat against such battle-crazed lunatics is just another costly distraction from God’s work.
Because Lupines are not the intended prey of the Damned, Sanctified Kindred are encouraged to avoid drinking the blood of werewolves. It is well known among the Sanctified that Lupine blood is potent, even invigorating, but it is not intended for the Damned. Sanctified who consume Lupine Vitae are considered to have strayed from the path, though the transgression is typically not regarded as terribly serious. It is considered no so much a sin against God, but more like a dalliance, a distraction from one’s duty.
Werewolves are not subject to the Tradition of the Masquerade as explained in the Testament, but the Lancea Sanctum finds it wise to hide themselves from them all the same. A Lupine is part human and does not respect The Traditions; why risk exposure and destruction? Werewolves are unlikely to respond to anything but violence, regardless. A hand extended gets bitten off, but a Spear thrust out from the dark must be regarded seriously.
Historically, however, the Lancea Sanctum has had nonviolent contact with Lupines as the needs of the night have dictated. Such dealings are seldom spoken of, however, because the covenant’s elders do not wish to dilute the neonates’ fear of the Lupines. Longinus has not instructed the Kindred to eliminate the Lupines, so the Sanctified are not forbidden from occasional, exceptional partnerships with them. Sanctified-Lupine partnerships are generally formed beneath the weight of an impending disaster — such as the appearance of a seemingly unstoppable foe or the impending breakthrough of a mortal investigation into the supernatural — or in pursuit of some shared goal — such as the recovery of stolen artifacts from a cabal of mages.
Most instances of cooperation between Sanctified and werewolves, however, are based on personal histories rather than grandiose plots or covenant mandates. Perhaps a Priest knew a werewolf in life and attended the same church as children. Perhaps a werewolf, who is exempt from the Masquerade, is the Bishop’s spy on rural, mortal heretics in exchange for protected territory in the parish.
For the most part, however, the Lancea Sanctum takes no great interest in and serious offense from the world’s werewolves. The covenant simply has little reason to trust unblessed monsters and little time to spend attempting to prevent inevitable bloodshed; the Sanctified are busy enough with each night’s solemn duties and worship.
Most mages — if such a thing may be said — are blasphemers, practicing witchcraft forbidden by God. It is sad that some among God’s favorites try to cheat their way free of their place in His design, but their sin does not fall within the purview of the Lancea Sanctum. Mortal mages will no doubt pay for their transgressions one day, perhaps beneath the teeth of a Sanctified vampire, but the Damned are not charged with the regulation of mortal pagan witchcraft.
There are those among the Sanctified (though not as many as among the Kindred at large) who interpret mages as something separate from the human flocks, and, therefore, not subject to the Masquerade. They are, by extension, not subject to the Second Tradition either, and so should never be considered for the Embrace. Individual Sanctified make their own mistakes, of course, but the church’s official position is that mages do not accept the role of the Sanctified and therefore should never be vampires.
Those Sanctified who believe mages are fair prey, and those who believe they must be regarded differently from their mortal brothers and sisters are not always different vampires. Though the power inherent in a mage’s Vitae is not generally understood by the covenant (which is to say, the power was never mentioned by Longinus or the Monachus), Sanctified know the Blood of a mage carries some quality that cannot be matched by other Vitae. A partnership between a vampire and a mage might be based on the passage of blood: the vampire feeds from the mage’s mystic blood and, in exchange, the mage goes on living for a few more nights. Or so it might seem to the vampire. A mage might get something else altogether out of the experience.
The Sanctified might turn to mages, however, to protect holy sites during daytime in exchange for access to covenant libraries and audiences with elder Kindred. Individual Theban Sorcery ritualists might pursue partnerships with living mages to share occult secrets or uncover new powers. Mages might be asked to educate Inquisitors or Sanctified sorcerers in the investigation of arcane mysteries. And what if the covenant suspected a mage had discovered the Black Abbey?
The Sanctified have many nights — and the patience — to make converts of their enemies, so they have time to entertain numerous allegiances and seemingly uncharacteristic partnerships for the greater good of the covenant. In practice, the Sanctified of some domains are willing to forego the conversion or destruction of Kindred considered to be lost causes — things may change in future nights to recover or redeem such causes, after all. Even hard-nosed members of the Lancea Sanctum accept that uncooperative monsters may be more useful on their feet than in ashes.
Sanctified Violence
The Sanctified wear many cordial masks when dealing with potential Allies and followers. When it becomes necessary for the Lancea Sanctum to confront an adversary with violence, however, its tactics seldom vary with its enemies. The covenant’s crusaders always wear a mask of doubtless faith.The Lancea Sanctum carefully balances its interactions with outside factions against its image as a holy army of unshakeable crusaders. Missionaries may be cooperative and tolerant, but a few nights’ ride behind them may be a battalion of unquestioning dark paladins. A Priest may be willing to reason with you, but she is just a chaplain on the fringe of a bloodthirsty army extinguishing heathens in the name of God. It’s not uncommon for Kindred to regard the Lancea Sanctum as a brutal order of medieval warrior-priests… except for the local parish.
The Sanctified fight with confidence and without remorse. They strike when and where a victory can take on symbolic meaning, where the enemy’s losses can echo throughout the domain. They destroy the people their enemies rely on and topple targets that collapse the frameworks of hostile forces.
As combatants, the Sanctified join Meditation with force, contemplative strategizing with majestic might, and patience with bravery. The Lancea Sanctum prefers ending conflicts to starting them, though they do sometimes provoke battles they know they can win. It is better to win absolutely than to win now.
Werewolves
The world’s other great supernatural hunters are intriguing creatures to the scholars and theologians among the Sanctified. The covenant’s favored interpretation of the Lupines has changed time and again over the centuries. What little has remained constant (or close to constant) in the covenant’s opinion is this: They are not blessed creatures and have no holy role in God’s plan.Werewolves may be admirable creatures, but they are not meant to be the Allies of the Sanctified. If they were, God would have revealed them to Longinus. The Lupines’ methods and excellence may be appreciated, but a Lupine should never be celebrated. Whereas the Damned are holy predators doing exalted work, werewolves are simply supernatural animals. They may (or may not, suppositions vary) contain a human soul, but they are more animal than human and therefore beneath humans.
In ages past, the Lancea Sanctum has devoted substantial Resources to fretting about Lupines, keeping tabs on them and even sometimes protecting a mortal flock from them (so that they may be preyed upon by thepredators God intended). In the modern nights, the Sanctified stay clear of them when possible. Blood spilt and flesh burned in combat against such battle-crazed lunatics is just another costly distraction from God’s work.
Because Lupines are not the intended prey of the Damned, Sanctified Kindred are encouraged to avoid drinking the blood of werewolves. It is well known among the Sanctified that Lupine blood is potent, even invigorating, but it is not intended for the Damned. Sanctified who consume Lupine Vitae are considered to have strayed from the path, though the transgression is typically not regarded as terribly serious. It is considered no so much a sin against God, but more like a dalliance, a distraction from one’s duty.
Werewolves are not subject to the Tradition of the Masquerade as explained in the Testament, but the Lancea Sanctum finds it wise to hide themselves from them all the same. A Lupine is part human and does not respect The Traditions; why risk exposure and destruction? Werewolves are unlikely to respond to anything but violence, regardless. A hand extended gets bitten off, but a Spear thrust out from the dark must be regarded seriously.
Historically, however, the Lancea Sanctum has had nonviolent contact with Lupines as the needs of the night have dictated. Such dealings are seldom spoken of, however, because the covenant’s elders do not wish to dilute the neonates’ fear of the Lupines. Longinus has not instructed the Kindred to eliminate the Lupines, so the Sanctified are not forbidden from occasional, exceptional partnerships with them. Sanctified-Lupine partnerships are generally formed beneath the weight of an impending disaster — such as the appearance of a seemingly unstoppable foe or the impending breakthrough of a mortal investigation into the supernatural — or in pursuit of some shared goal — such as the recovery of stolen artifacts from a cabal of mages.
Most instances of cooperation between Sanctified and werewolves, however, are based on personal histories rather than grandiose plots or covenant mandates. Perhaps a Priest knew a werewolf in life and attended the same church as children. Perhaps a werewolf, who is exempt from the Masquerade, is the Bishop’s spy on rural, mortal heretics in exchange for protected territory in the parish.
For the most part, however, the Lancea Sanctum takes no great interest in and serious offense from the world’s werewolves. The covenant simply has little reason to trust unblessed monsters and little time to spend attempting to prevent inevitable bloodshed; the Sanctified are busy enough with each night’s solemn duties and worship.
Mages
The Lancea Sanctum has few formal, categorical statements to make about those mortals who pursue magical power. Strictly, officially, mages are regarded as dangerous humans, but humans nonetheless and, therefore, fair prey.Most mages — if such a thing may be said — are blasphemers, practicing witchcraft forbidden by God. It is sad that some among God’s favorites try to cheat their way free of their place in His design, but their sin does not fall within the purview of the Lancea Sanctum. Mortal mages will no doubt pay for their transgressions one day, perhaps beneath the teeth of a Sanctified vampire, but the Damned are not charged with the regulation of mortal pagan witchcraft.
There are those among the Sanctified (though not as many as among the Kindred at large) who interpret mages as something separate from the human flocks, and, therefore, not subject to the Masquerade. They are, by extension, not subject to the Second Tradition either, and so should never be considered for the Embrace. Individual Sanctified make their own mistakes, of course, but the church’s official position is that mages do not accept the role of the Sanctified and therefore should never be vampires.
Those Sanctified who believe mages are fair prey, and those who believe they must be regarded differently from their mortal brothers and sisters are not always different vampires. Though the power inherent in a mage’s Vitae is not generally understood by the covenant (which is to say, the power was never mentioned by Longinus or the Monachus), Sanctified know the Blood of a mage carries some quality that cannot be matched by other Vitae. A partnership between a vampire and a mage might be based on the passage of blood: the vampire feeds from the mage’s mystic blood and, in exchange, the mage goes on living for a few more nights. Or so it might seem to the vampire. A mage might get something else altogether out of the experience.
The Sanctified might turn to mages, however, to protect holy sites during daytime in exchange for access to covenant libraries and audiences with elder Kindred. Individual Theban Sorcery ritualists might pursue partnerships with living mages to share occult secrets or uncover new powers. Mages might be asked to educate Inquisitors or Sanctified sorcerers in the investigation of arcane mysteries. And what if the covenant suspected a mage had discovered the Black Abbey?
Mythology & Lore
Principia Theologica
The Lancea Sanctum is unique among world religions, and not simply because all of its adherents are vampires. Almost every member of the Lancea Sanctum belonged to a mortal faith prior to the Embrace, which abruptly initiated each Sanctified into a new religion based on blood, death and the twisted notion of damnation as a mandate of purpose. True, the core religious beliefs of the covenant derive from writings attributed to Longinus and his first disciple, the Monachus, and acceptance of the truth of these writings is a prerequisite to membership in a Longinian congregation. In implementation, however, each worshiper is free to celebrate these forbidden truths with rituals derived from Catholicism, Protestantism, Islam, or many other mortal faiths, or even reject all of these traditions in favor of rites totally alien to human religions.In the first centuries of its existence, the theological underpinnings of the Sanctified faith were quite Catholic in outlook, as those among the Sanctified Embraced during ages past adapted their mortal beliefs to their new predatory natures. Over time, the Lancea Sanctum broadened its horizons to absorb the ritual practices of non-Catholics, as waves of those of other faiths — Protestants, Muslims and Jews — joined the Damned. Tonight, the Lancea Sanctum is truly a big tent religion (albeit one whose opinion-makers are often traditional, powerful Catholics), and while a majority of the covenant’s members adopt the trappings of Catholicism, a Cardinal wearing a Priest’s cassock must often tolerate snake-handling revivals, nightly prayers to Longinus made toward Mecca, and even vampiric students of the Kabbalah within his domain. This isn’t to say that the Lancea Sanctum considers all forms of worship to be equal, but the difference between an acceptable doctrinal difference and a heresy is rarely made clear until after the inquisitors have arrived.
Principles Applied
The Lancea Sanctum recognizes almost as many holy rites as there are Sanctified to enact them. Each denomination celebrates its own unique rituals and observances, but some rites are universal in nature. The names and descriptions of the various rites also vary from creed to creed. The nomenclature most commonly used for the rites, however, is that established by The Monachal Creed, which is both the oldest and most widespread of all the denominations. An individual rite is usually referred to as such, though the Latin ritus is occasionally used, especially by Monachals. When the plural of the word is used, however, the Latin ritae and the English “rites” are often used interchangeably.Rites are divided into two types: Apostolica and Ecclesia. Apostolica are official covenant ceremonies, while Ecclesia are unofficial rituals or even simple prayers. The chief distinction is that a Sanctified Priest must officiate over Apostolica. Lay members may officiate over Ecclesia, and in fact, even non- Sanctified may be permitted to officiate over some of the minor ones, in much the same way mortals might invite an honored guest to say the blessing over a meal.
It is important to understand the idea of ritae in the context of the rest of the covenant’s belief, so we have defined them here. A larger section addresses a wide and specific crosssection of rites, including rites common to all Sanctified, as well as those rites unique to individual creeds and even individual coteries.
Tenets of Faith
Worship
Rituals and Observances
Few organizations, be they Kindred or kine, can match the Lancea Sanctum for sheer quantity of rituals. As the primary religious faction among the undead, the Sanctified have a rite, an observance or a tradition for many aspects of the Requiem. It would be impossible, even in many times the space available, to describe them all. Presented here, then, is a small selection of some of the more important or common rites and traditions. It’s important to note that while these practices are observed wherever the Sanctified can be found, they often differ in detail from domain to domain or even from coterie to coterie. Like all religious ceremonies, they are defined as much by their performers as by their intended meaning. The specifics given here are therefore standards, not necessarily universal. Note that the use of the term “Priest” in these descriptions represents a formal position, not the more general concept that all Sanctified should “serve as priests” to their brethren.Theban Sorcery
To hear the Sanctified tell it, its members are capable of no less than miracles themselves. In truth, the Lancea Sanctum does possess a potent form of spiritual magic, though whether it performs literal miracles is up for debate. At some point after the covenant formed — purportedly in the third century AD — some of its members followed a Roman army into Thebes (“Thebias” according to fragments of a journal supposedly recovered from the march). There, a legion of Christian soldiers was drawn from the local ranks. When members of the covenant accompanied the Theban legion on its march to Gaul, one of their number brought with her the secrets of this magic, which she claimed to have learned from an angel on the journey. To this night, the covenant studies and practices this sorcery, which it uses to demonstrate its power, “prove” its chosen nature, and to punish transgressors against its dictates.
Lancea Sanctum Ritae
Among the Kindred, the Lancea Sanctum is the authority of blade, blood, and sanctity — or, at least, that’s how it is in the minds of its covenant members. The Sanctified place themselves above all others, taking indefatigable pride in their predatory condition, believing that God’s own hand has Damned them thus. Kindred outside the covenant are seen as in desperately need of spiritual learning. Other vampires are ignorant to the glory of their malediction, and so they wallow in their unfortunate ignorance. The Sanctified revere their state, and they commemorate it constantly with a series of observed rituals: the ritae of the Lancea Sanctum.The purposes of ritual in the covenant are many. First and foremost, rites carry an important religious weight. The Sanctified, for the most part, are devout, and literally believe that not only did a Longinus exist, but also that he pierced the side of Christ and was cursed by a very literal God because of that. From this action came exalted Damnation. While there are certainly some covenant members who don’t really believe the “myth” of Longinus, overall the vampires of the Lancea Sanctum do not doubt the purity of their connection to the divine. Rituals allow the Kindred to pay tribute to that connection, to offer themselves through action and sacrifice to God and veneration of the Dark Prophet.
The rituals would be worth doing even for the metaphorical weight of the divine connection between vampire and the deeds of the Dark Prophet. However, the results of most rituals are more than metaphorical. The canonical ritae of the covenant, at least, tend to grant some small preternatural benefits to participants. These benefits naturally serve to enhance a vampire’s belief in her profound relation to the divine. It’s akin to praying for — and actually receiving — some small modicum of assistance for your trouble. Practicing the ritae of the Lancea Sanctum leaves little room for disbelief.
One of the ancillary benefits given through the usage of ritual is that is establishes a watermark for devotion. Those members who show up only for Midnight Masses — if at all — are silently remembered as being members of the covenant more in name than in deed or belief. Such dismissal of the important ritae almost guarantees that the Sanctified in question won’t see his Anointing… at least, not until he finds proper piety. However, those Kindred who make the major rituals, and observe all the personal or minor ones, are more likely to be noted as committed to their belief. Committed Kindred go far in the Lancea Sanctum.
The Lancea Sanctum observes two types of ritual. The first, called Apostolica, are the canonical rituals authorized and conducted by the covenant at large. The second are more common, personalized rituals meant for individual Kindred or their coteries. These Ecclesia, as they’re called, are not officially recognized by the covenant, though they are typically encouraged because they indicate strength of faith regardless. Every ceremony in service to the covenant is seen as a good thing. By way of analogy, consider the Apostolica like a Mass held in a church and the Ecclesia like personal prayer.
Apostolica
The Apostolica are proper covenant rituals meant to be performed en masse at the appropriate times. These seven rituals are meant to strengthen the fidelity of the Sanctified, granting them bonds of religious fraternity while also conferring to the Kindred the a sense of spiritual reward for such devotion. The origin of each ritual comes in some part from The Testament of Longinus. Some grow out of a single line, whereas others are outlined specifically in the text, step by step.There are technically more than the seven ritae listed below. In fact, the covenant has a cavalcade of rituals, holidays, and ceremonies, many of which are Apostolica. The covenant formally observes seven, though its local incarnations may have elevated other rites to the level of Apostolica. The below rituals, however, are considered to be the most important and commonly practiced within the Lancea Sanctum.
Sidebars and Systems
The descriptions of the Apostolica include optional rules sidebars that describe effects that might enhance the rites in game terms. These systems are strictly optional, and the default is that they do not actually occur.Some Storytellers, however, might wish to give an edge to the Lancea Sanctum. In one troupe’s chronicle, the Storyteller may wish to reward Lancea Sanctum dominance with a bit of an extra boost in game terms, while in another, the Storyteller might have decided that the Lancea Sanctum is “right,” and these benefits manifest as a form of divine purpose or favor.
Unless otherwise noted, these benefits apply to Kindred who are not members of the Lancea Sanctum as well. Such benefits thereby encourage outside Damned to join the covenant.
Storytellers, think long and hard about whether or not you wish to apply these systemic benefits to the Apostolica. Do not make such a decision casually. If you do so, you are giving a tangible, empirical benefit to the Lancea Sanctum that the other covenants might not have. This tips the balance of power a little bit — but that may be the effect you’re after.
The Creation Rite, Annointing /Blood Baths, Midnight Mass, Confessional, Gran Ballo, Crusade, Quadragesima
Others
Among the dozens if not hundreds of other rites not listed here are The Fire Dance (a ceremony popular among young Sanctified in which they dance around or even through fire to prove that they can master the vampiric weakness), the Mysteries (a yearly festival of celebration and thanksgiving that all local Sanctified are expected to attend), and acceptance and allegiance rites (trials and sworn oaths when first joining the covenant or a particular coterie). In addition to those rites that are more or less universal, domains and even individual coteries often have their own rites, developed internally and not shared with the rest of the faction.
Ecclesia
In the early nights of the covenant, the only way to truly commune and connect with God and the Dark Prophet was through the appropriate covenant leaders. Priests, Bishops, Archbishops, and Cardinals were the only “official” lines to God and only they allowed the Transubstantiation of mortal blood to divine judgment. These figures were the shepherds, and the sheep were not to think for themselves. This is not so much the case tonight in the Danse Macabre, as such strident religiosity has weakened and ultimately given way to more spiritual concerns than concerns of enforced principle. While the guidance of a Priest or other higher-up is still considered duly important, the Lancea Sanctum observes more personalized rituals that allow a vampire or a coterie some small connection with the divine. The Lancea Sanctum does not officially sanction these rituals, but the covenant certainly doesn’t frown upon them. Any worship is seen as good worship, provided that a vampire doesn’t rely solely upon the rituals to exalt the acts and philosophies of the Dark Prophet. These rituals are known as Ecclesia or common ritae. Unlike Apostolica, Ecclesia have no mechanical game effects on their own. They exist solely to allow personal expression of a character’s devotion to God and Longinus, and also to give players a chance to create their own rites and thus take an active hand in creating the setting itself.Sermons, Supplications, Minor Exorcism, The Feast of Longinus, The Blessing of Vitae, Recontre, Blanket Party, The Fire Dance, The Serpent Rite, Acceptance Rite, The Eulogy, The Hajj, The Hunter's Prayer, Salat, Sawn
Political Influence & Intrigue
Domain Politics
The Sanctified have little doubt that they are the superior beings, because they have a direct connection with God, and they understand the nature of damnation. The Lancea Sanctum teaches that the damnation, while tragic, is also a state of being demanded by God and the Dark Prophet. It’s a curse, to be sure, but a sacred burden, like a battered and bleeding Christ bearing the heavy cross. The Kindred of the covenant know that they are condemned to exist as deathless beings outside the light, and they accept it. They also accept the bloodthirsty state of their condition, setting aside the constraints of a mortal life in favor of the true way, a predator’s way. That doesn’t mean their behavior devolves into mindless brutality, however. No, most Sanctified know that a balance needs to be struck between the monster andthe missionary, the beast and the Bishop.How does this outlook affect the politics of the covenant? The Lancea Sanctum is a religious entity, an organization that doubly exalts the Beast Within and the sacred chain of being. Does the covenant see itself as the grand master of the vampire world, crushing all opposition beneath its empire? Or does it instead sit idly by, believing that the spoils of war will come to them simply because they deserve it and wish it so?
Divine Right of Kings
The Lancea Sanctum walks a fine line with regard to its perceived position of superiority among vampires. On one hand, the covenant believes God has quite literally cursed all Kindred. As such, the Lancea Sanctum is the manifestation of his divine will, communicated to the Kindred through the wisdom of Longinus. Those who do not recognize God’s authority — and by proxy, the authority of the Sanctified — must be made to kneel. Politically speaking, the Lancea Sanctum believes it must exert its supremacy at every turn, proving its mettle in an effort to gain followers, which in turn creates greater faith and a stronger covenant. All of this is done in service to the teachings given by the Dark Prophet. Rebuking such philosophy goes against the very desires of Heaven.On the other hand, the covenant is already dominant. It may not be the foremost political force in a given domain, but in the dead hearts and zealous minds of many Sanctified, the covenant doesn’t need to be. Just because the Lancea Sanctum isn’t the primary governing body doesn’t mean it’s not already the strongest and most pious institution out there. Who cares if the rest of the world Bows its head in reverence? Those who do will know the taste of godliness and purity, and those who refuse are nothing more than rats feasting on their own filth.
Hence, the covenant is split somewhat by this schism of action versus inaction. Some believe Longinus’ teachings must be made manifest through conquest, and others claim that God’s will is already manifest and the covenant has already conquered the rest of the world by nature of its supreme philosophy. How does this all play out in practice? Bottom line, it depends on the desires of individual Kindred — particularly the figures of authority in the covenants’ local chapters.
Natural Law
Some prelates of the Lancea Sanctum believe that natural laws govern the politics of a given domain, meaning that those Kindred who are stronger in mind, body and spirit will Dominate those who are weaker. Call it “survival of the fittest” or “natural selection,” it all boils down to the more capable Kindred either dominating the weaker ones or culling such debility from the Herd. The Lancea Sanctum, of course, has no doubt who the better vampires are (them) and who the weaker ones are (everybody else).A city or domain under the leadership of a Sanctified espousing such a theory is sure to feature more aggressive action on the part of the Lancea Sanctum. If the covenant doesn’t have a dominant interest in the parish, it may well make motions to do so swiftly and mercilessly. This doesn’t automatically mean military action — overt violence tends to be a last resort. No, instead the Lancea Sanctum first moves covertly to supplant or advise the current regime of ruling vampires, be they proud Invictus or a band of Carthian progressives.
The covenant uses several tactics to covertly subvert the foundation of a city’s current vampiric power base. The first and most obvious point of attack is the blood supply of those involved with the extant praxis (Prince, Prisci, etc.). Such figures often have herds, and the Lancea Sanctum may move to scatter or destroy them. Poisoning, random accidents, even using Disciplines to steal a vampire’s Herd out from under her — all are viable tactics.
Next comes a war of influence. As much as most Kindred would like to exist outside of temporal needs, it’s just not possible. Even an elder with an arsenal of potent Disciplines still needs fundamental worldly Resources to gain power. Kindred in power need money and real estate. They also need people on the inside of the legal and judicial systems, as well as mortals serving their needs inside the transportation industry and the local (if not greater) media. It’s not enough to demand fealty from Kindred — a vampire has to have the goods to back up her claims. If he can’t show proof that he holds a swath of territory across a given domain or that his bank accounts are seemingly endless, well… who’s really going to listen to a would-be aristo in the poor house with a single-room Haven? The Sanctified attack these mortal bases of influence. Crippling such temporal routes to power is like removing the legs of a table — it needs them to stand. Much of this comes down to a hidden battle of mortal agents. The covenant may hire or co-opt lawyers to exploit legal loopholes in hopes of destroying influence — maybe the lawyers have a Regent’s Haven declared “historical property of the state” or perhaps the lawyers can find a legal anomaly in the bank accounts of the Prince. Venture capitalists of the Sanctified may buy out rival interests with no warning, but then who’s to say the rivals’ mortal contingent won’t be able to find their own legal loopholes to exploit, putting the Sanctified “agents” in jail for misappropriation of funds? Much of this comes down to a multi-tiered chess match, with each warring covenant attempting to undercut and destabilize the other using human pawns. Such is the way of the Danse Macabre, as any experienced Kindred can attest.
But therein lies a problem. The Sanctified aren’t as good at dealing with mortals than some of the other covenants. They believe themselves predators, and mortals are the prey. Such a distance from the Canaille distorts the covenant’s perceptions of how mortals really act, and how their world really works. That’s not to say they are poor manipulators when it comes to temporal power — only that some others (the Invictus and Carthians specifically) do it better. The Sanctified have the advantage in that they’re often willing to be more brutal when it comes to handling (or mishandling) mortal pawns. The Invictus, still holding onto some scraps of their antiquated morality, may handle mortals with a kinder touch. The Carthians occasionally employ their own methods of empowerment to their mortal agents, building a sense of ownership (even if those deluded mortals don’t realize their sense of enfranchisement is misplaced). The Sanctified recognizes that to make an omelet, eggs get broken, and the same goes for claiming praxis. However, the niggling fact remains — The Invictus and Carthians have an edge in a war of influence, and win it more often than not in comparison to the Sanctified.
(This isn’t to denigrate the efforts of The Ordo Dracul and Circle of the Crone. Quite the contrary, in fact — these covenants often play bitter rivals to the Sanctified. In the end, however, the dragons and Acolytes often have the same difficulties relating to mortals that the Sanctified encounter, and thus enter such wars of influence on more even footing.)
The Lancea Sanctum, however, often has an edge with regard to the vampire population. Regardless of whether the war of influence succeeds or fails, the covenant will also take the war to the city’s Kindred. The key aspect of this battle is recruitment. The covenant, when deciding to shift a domain’s praxis, will mount an aggressive campaign, promulgating The Message to local Kindred that they are the supreme authority of all vampires with answers to the Requiem’s most pervasive questions. They may offer aid, protection and an open door policy to those Damned who will stand with them. That’s the obvious side of the equation — a subtler one exists, as well. While making a very public display of itself, the covenant may send spies and scouts to the other side (or other sides, plural, provided they are fighting a battle against several opponent covenants) in an effort to find any bit of information. Wars are occasionally won on this front alone. If enough vampires change allegiance and align themselves with the Lancea Sanctum, the current political body might no longer be able to sustain itself without that support. It collapses, and the Sanctified seize praxis. Sometimes, though, even these battles are lost.
When that happens, violence is the last resort, and one the covenant finds only partially regrettable (they have named themselves the wielders of a relic weapon for a reason, after all). Such military action doesn’t spill out into the streets if the covenant can help it — they don’t send armies of shock troops marching down Main Street with Ak-47s and wooden stakes. Even when the war does go more public than the covenant would prefer, it tends to be cloaked under the guise of a gang war, police action or rioting. Sometimes, however, the Sanctified won’t bother attacking the mortal elements of a rival covenant’s dominance, and will instead go right for the head — the Damned themselves.
Attempting to end the unlives of prominent Kindred is a difficult and risky maneuver. Some Sanctified leaders, however, believe that their will is superior and that such an effort — while dangerous — will be successful through the grace of the Dark Prophet. The Lancea Sanctum, in this case, might attempt to eliminate the leading members (Princes, sympathetic Regents, Prisci, Sheriffs, any loyal elders) of the opposing covenant or covenants and then simply move into the vacuum created. If the Kindred in the city resist such a move, they find themselves branded as obstacles in the path to righteous glory, and find themselves on the list of the Sanctified’s targets. Nothing is easy about this course of action. Sometimes just finding rival Damned is difficult, as they don’t go out in public with neon signs on their backs.
However, while the Lancea Sanctum is capable of performing such actions, such overt motions are thankfully rare in the Danse Macabre. Not only does the world favor subtlety, but with Damned populations growing in cosmopolitan cities, it seems easier instead to develop symbiotic relationships (however tense they become) with the other covenants. Drastic action is taken only when the Lancea Sanctum finds that it has little other choice (or, alternatively, if the domain leadership is beholden to older and more violent values).
Validation of Authority
Covenant luminaries who feel that the Lancea Sanctum will achieve dominance over time without exhausting its Resources in constant battles represent the other side of the coin. The covenant is the Tortoise to everybody else’s Hare — slow and steady wins the race. Why work overtime to obtain what’s already been achieved? These Damned believe their covenant to already be the dominant force among Kindred, even if they don’t directly control temporal influence or orchestrate all aspects of Kindred politics. According to Sanctified historians, the Lancea Sanctum is the oldest covenant still extant (despite the so-called “beliefs” of the other factions) — they’ll be around far longer than the rest of these new-philosophy upstarts.That’s not to say the covenant rests on its laurels. On the contrary, it does what it always does. It offers salvation to the Kindred. It paves the way for other vampires to come to grips with their damnation, and moreover, it shows them how to harness their accursed state and become what God has planned for them. Over time, the Lancea Sanctum believes that most Kindred will come to an appreciation of this condition, and recruitment numbers have proven this (for the most part). With recruitment and vampire conversion comes a boost in numbers, and a boost in numbers means greater strength for the covenant on a whole. Once such strength has been achieved, and a majority of a region’s Kindred swayed to the sanctity of the cause… the city’s praxis usually ends up in the covenant’s possession. How could it not? Unless the dominant rival interests maintain their authority through an overt and exceptional use of force, it’s unlikely that they can continue such supremacy without the support of the majority of the vampire population. In this way, the Lancea Sanctum remains relatively non-aggressive, but still exerts its spiritual and moral authority over the Kindred civitas.
Does this technique actually work? Not as much as some Sanctified would like, but more than its detractors admit. The advantage of such a method is that patient covenant members can rely on the benefit of a relatively eternal existence to wait out the “staying power” of other covenants. The disadvantage is that it may take 10 years, 50 years, even a century a more. If the covenant needs to bolster its ranks immediately, this methodology won’t bear swift results. An urgent demand for strength requires the more uncompromising approach listed above or the morally forbidden practice of Embracing new converts directly into the covenant.
Still, if the covenant has the time and an inclination toward persistence, this technique holds water. Even when it doesn’t, some Sanctified find little reason for concern. Spiritually minded Kindred are content with their place in the world, however it pans out politically. Such Kindred know they’re on the winning side. Their philosophies are not only sacred, but literally true. Their blood represents God’s own power on this Earth. Their salvation-through-damnation is timeless and limitless. Who cares what the rabble-rousers, heretics and fence-sitters think? The Lancea Sanctum, like the mortal Church, knows that it is forever. A mountain needn’t take over the world to be the land’s tallest feature, does it?
Symbiosis
The political climate of the Danse Macabre is frequently one that requires compromise and cooperation, if only to a limited degree. Without such moderate concessions, the cities would burn as the Kindred raged against one another, and a wholesale extinction of the Damned at the hands of mortals would soon follow. Once upon a time, the Lancea Sanctum would have considered such cooperation to be a stark admission of weakness. Crossing the battlefield to shake the hands of the heathen would have been a laughable notion, but in the Danse Macabre, few other choices are truly available.Cities are home to a variety of Kindred with different beliefs. Coteries that once might have been composed of nothing but Sanctified vampires now host Kindred of varying principles and allegiances. Domains are rarely claimed by a single theocratic covenant, and instead are guided by the various groups as part of an intricate Web of influence. The Lancea Sanctum certainly doesn’t prefer this — but rejecting the current conditions doesn’t make them go away, and only makes the job of the Sanctified harder. Constantly fighting and struggling does little for the spiritual wellbeing of the Kindred, after all. Most Sanctified accept the concept of compromise with an eye toward the future, meaning future advantage. Kindred with a penchant for self-reliance must sometimes recognize that the choice is to give a little ground now (in hopes of regaining it and more later), or fall behind in the Danse Macabre. While some Sanctified are certainly willing to accept the latter option, many others are not so quick to accept ruin or even Final Death. Bowing and scraping in front of the Prince now may open the door for a coup later — or, at the least, will allow the covenant to quietly continue practicing its recruitment and ritae. When possible, members of the covenant may pursue an advisory position, even in a contested city, in the hopes of turning a sympathetic ear toward the Lancea Sanctum. Some particularly cunning and persuasive Sanctified have managed, over the centuries, to turn an opposing Prince or Priscus toward the covenant, thus changing the entire political climate of a region.
For the most part, it’s savvy (or cowardly) young Kindred willing to make accessions in the name of compromise. Older ancillae and elders are less interested in cutting deals and selling the covenant short, and compromises from such staunch conservatives are few and far between. Such older Sanctified may not wage a bloody war, but won’t allow the other covenants to walk on their ideals, either. The condition of damnation may not be diminished, especially by lesser beings.
Absolutism of Rule
Should the Lancea Sanctum manage, through whatever methodology, to become an influential political force of the city (even if not the dominant one), it begs the question, “What next?” How does the covenant handle being the empowered majority? What advantages can the covenant use to affect the local society of the Damned, and what disadvantages can enemies exploit?Social Contract: The Lancea Sanctum, when it gains political power, offers something of an unspoken deal to that city’s vampire inhabitants. The covenant offers those Kindred a “social contract.” If the group acknowledges the rule or at least the faith of the Lancea Sanctum, the covenant will in turn keep the Kindred safe and secure. Those Kindred may also, for the most part, exist in the level of comfort they’re used to. Achieving this requires acknowledging some degree of spiritual superiority belonging to the covenant, accepting covenant judgment in matters that concern it, and acting in obeisance in at least a limited capacity (outwardly, if not in actual belief). If the Damned bow their heads, kneel when told, and show up at the occasional Midnight Mass then they gain acceptance and protection, if not open favor. Conservatives among the covenant insist that this social contract isn’t negotiable: Refuse the offer, and it doesn’t get made a second time. All protection and security is then null and void, andthe Lancea Sanctum makes no promises to those who deny its open door policy. In practice, only hardliners make such rigid distinctions. On the other hand, even liberal or otherwise progressive Sanctified don’t enjoy being played for fools, and the rogue who takes sanctuary among their ranks probably won’t have a chance to do it again if he abuses Lancea Sanctum hospitality for his own ends.
Out With the Old: What about the vampires still existing in the city who are castoffs from the previous regimes, ruling bodies, or failed attempts to subvert or seize praxis? If erstwhile Prince or Primogen still have their heads and dwell within the boundaries of the city, they may find a new lease on the Requiem within the ranks of the Sanctified. Their autonomy has dwindled, but the covenant makes no judgments in extending the Word of God and Longinus to any Kindred willing to accept it (usually). Spiritually, fallen Kindred are due the chance to accept their fates, and politically, they may still be worth something in the long run. Such elders and prior officers are often given fewer leniencies than younger Kindred, however. The choice offered is certainly more extreme, with the rationale that such hardship is necessary to instill the proper sense of humility. Of course, even those Kindred who do submit aren’t given a loose leash. They start from square one. Even the most annuated elder begins her covenant indoctrination as a true novitiate, and even neonates might hold greater roles than her. Then again, it’s either humiliation or a less guaranteed Requiem among one of the other covenants or even among the unbound, both of which are sure to have trials of their own. Indeed, some elders choose such ignominious ends, but others see the value in the Church of Longinus, whether piously or with treachery still within their hearts.
Rebellion: Whether the covenant likes it or not, the Lancea Sanctum is sure to face resistance to any influence it might accumulate. Whether the resistance comes from partisans left over from a rivalry or from a nascent contingent of vampires seeking to hinder the Lancea Sanctum, it happens no matter how hard or loose the covenant is with the rules. It’s difficult to truly excise an entire strain of thought contrary to prevailing political climes. The best that can be done is for the Lancea Sanctum to discourage any fence-sitters from joining the resistance, or to actively court them for its own favor. Zealots will always resist; it’s the “common Kindred” who need to be kept from such foolish endeavors. The covenant keeps the undecided in line with a regimen of promise, respect and reward. Respect enters the picture when the covenant takes extra effort to communicate the beliefs of its Church: respect for God, Longinus and the whole of the Kindred condition. Granted, respect can quickly turn to fear and resentment, usually under draconian leaders who resort to making grim, bloody examples, but wise leaders know that fear bears only so much weight before becoming hatred. On the other hand, the Lancea Sanctum practically delights in showcasing what happens to perfidious heretics. Rewards enter the picture through a system of favor and bounties. Any Kindred who brings in a member of the resistance (proof is only marginally necessary) to an appropriate Priest or Bishop typically receives some kind of reward. This could be a reward of territory, or even a promise of a greater future role should the vampire choose to accept it. Beyond that system, the covenant also relies on its network of spies and scouts (among the most devoted in the Kindred world) to place themselves within the resistance movement in whatever way possible. From there, such intelligence reveals the treacherous vermin in due time.
Ritae: One of the benefits of instituting an established schedule of Apostolica is that it reveals the weak spots of a parish’s congregation. Less significant with regard to those Kindred who have long been with the covenant, this “watermark” test is useful specifically to assess new members of the Lancea Sanctum, and more importantly, those non-members who have been recently extended the social contract or who have converted from a previously established power. Even a simple thing like Midnight Mass is an excellent gauge of the faith levels of the city’s inhabitants. If someone abstains from the ritus frequently, covenant luminaries take note. A local Priest (or a Bishop, if the vampire is important enough) may be dispatched to play either politico or sincere spiritual counselor. The covenant usually makes every good-faith effort possible to turn the wayward Kindred toward the light, hoping to convince her to take seriously the condition of damnation. Should this not work, or should the Kindred in question not really have made herself seem interested in the covenant’s ideology, she may well find herself outside the protective benefice of the social contract.
Mortal Influence: As discussed above, a dominant or influential body of Kindred cannot hold political position in a given domain without some kind of sway over local mortal Resources. The Sanctified will not maintain praxis or even be able to cultivate any kind of power in the first place without some degree of mortal influence, whether among real estate, business, politics, transportation, or easily overlooked functionaries like park rangers or sewer workers. The stronger the base of mortal influence, the deeper the covenant’s power will go. Of course, as was also discussed above, the Sanctified do not excel when dealing with mortals. While many members of the covenant are capable, some Sanctified find it very hard to see Humanity as anything but a tribe of blissfully ignorant sustenance.
Replacement Kindred: Sometimes, in taking a particularly aggressive route to political power, the covenant may eliminate more opposition than it intended. This leaves certain aspects of the domain weak enough to be exploited, but it also diminishes one of the Lancea Sanctum’s key strategic elements: converted Kindred. When a city’s society of the Damned is left in chaos, the covenant moves in and herds the wayward sheep into the fold. What happens when there aren’t enough of the Damned left behind to bring into the Church? The Lancea Sanctum must make more, of course. It is possible to take faithful Kindred from other cities and supplant them into an extant domain. The problem with this is, not only is transportation risky and the Predator’s Taint at least an initial threat, but the Lancea Sanctum has no guarantee its outside proselytizing efforts will be effective. When this happens, the Lancea Sanctum may go on an active period of Embracing mortals. This violates The Traditions, and the covenant knows it. On the other hand, the covenant also recognizes that it is the supreme spiritual authority, and from time to time such breaches of conduct are necessary to maintain its vital strength. Plus, creating whole new Kindred gives the covenant the advantage that it will have, for the most part, a handful of vampires who are essentially tabula rasa. The Lancea Sanctum can instruct these neonates with every important piece of dogma and ritual from the ground up, creating devoted loyalists willing to sacrifice their unlives for the good of the covenant.
Sects
The Creeds
The Sanguineous Catechism was the first recapitulation of the teachings of Longinus, and even tonight, Sanctified are occasionally referred to as “Longinians” regardless of whether they follow the Monachus’s original draft or not. Over the course of the last several centuries, however, the original draft of The Sanguineous Catechism has become increasingly associated with a traditionalist view of the Lancea Sanctum, which relies strongly on the theology, structure and trappings of the Catholic Church. Over time, changes in the pre-Embrace religious views of neonate Sanctified, particularly after the Reformation, lessened the sway that Catholicism held over the covenant. While all modern Sanctified pay at least some reverence to the Catechism, non-Catholic groups within the covenant usually have their interpretations of specific canons, and such sub-units of the covenant are usually called creeds or denominations.The most prominent example of this flexible approach lies in the preamble. The second verse of The Monachal Creed identifies Jesus Christ as God’s son “conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit and born of the Virgin Mary to redeem Man from Sin through his death and resurrection.” While this version of the Creed is by far the most common, Sanctified who were Muslim in life typically employ a modified version known as the Iblic Creed which identifies Jesus as “a holy prophet” who was actually a precursor to Mohammed. Similarly, the Jewish Sanctified of the Acharit Hayami denomination use the Dammitic Creed, which leaves out the second verse entirely and modifies the third to indicate that Longinus was cursed solely because of his own sinful nature. Finally, Sanctified of Protestant backgrounds, especially in the American South and Midwest, use a variety of homespun creeds that de-emphasize the role of the Virgin Mary in a conceptual rebuke of the covenant’s Catholic origins. While there are possibly scores of distinct creeds around the world, the most prominent are listed below.
Heresies
Despite its reputation among the other covenants as conservative and reactionary, the Lancea Sanctum is remarkably tolerant of divergent approaches to celebrating the truths of its religion. This patience is not infinite, however; there are many views on The Testament of Longinus that the Sanctified will not countenance. Generally, a creed crosses the line into heresy when it rejects some core principle of Sanctified faith, when it deifies some figure from the local covenant’s history or folklore (including Longinus, who despite his impact on vampiric culture is no more intrinsically important than any other vampire), or when it challenges the infallibility of The Testament of Longinus in a particularly offensive way. The history of the Lancea Sanctum is replete with heretical movements that have later fallen by the wayside… or been pushed aside by local covenant orthodoxy.Below are two examples of heresies that challenge the Sanctified tonight, and the history chapter includes information on another heresy upheld by the Icarians. Storytellers, use these or ignore them as you wish. They are included for the sake of showing how an internal schism can significantly fracture the Lancea Sanctum. We make an effort to give these heresies a universal applicability — we provide as few geographical details and exclusive situations as possible that might prevent them from applying to your chronicle, should you choose to include them.
Lexicon: Lexicon, Lancea Sanctum
Optional Mechanic
Storyteller's Option: The Power of Belief
Storyteller's Option: Heresies and the Curia Cruentus
Storyteller's Option: A Pledge to Learn
Storyteller's Option: Activating an Unlearned Ritual
Storyteller's Option: Lay and Secular Ritualists
The night may come, when The Invictus and the Lancea Sanctum find they can no longer survive in certain domains by relying on their centuries-old methods. The undead aristocracy may kneel at the guillotines of revolution, or The Invictus may ally with the wild pagans of The Crone to infiltrate the grassroots rebellion of the Carthians. The Lancea Sanctum doesn’t confuse deference with dependence — it won’t allow itself to be pulled down by the fall of The Invictus. The Kindred social landscape would therefore look very different following a schism in the two Estates.
The Lancea Sanctum might well enter into partnerships with new political covenants, such as the Carthians, to maintain the visibility of Longinus and the church. In the absence of a political partner, however, many Sanctified have the experience in city politics and internecine hierarchies to excel as governors of the Damned. In more than a few cities, soft Invictus landlords are little more than public-relations officers for the Sanctified. In other, newer cities, the Lancea Sanctum has been well-established for decades without any Invictus support whatsoever.
The night may come when the young revolutionaries overthrow their stagnant ancestorkings, but few of the followers of Longinus may be willing to let their churches burn in defense of a secular cause. God’s curse on the undead is more important than politics. Politicians comes and go, but the Curse is undying. When the fires cool and the smoke clears, the Sanctified seek out the victors and remind them where a vampire’s attention truly lies: on the bare throats of their breathing prey.
Type
Religious, Holy Order
Demonym
Sanctified
Gazetteer
Subsidiary Organizations
Related Traditions
- Acceptance Rite
- Annointing
- Blanket Party
- Confessional
- Crusade
- Gran Ballo
- Midnight Mass
- Minor Exorcism
- Quadragesima
- Recontre
- Salat
- Sawn
- Sermons
- Supplications
- The Blessing of Vitae
- The Creation Rite
- The Eulogy
- The Feast of Longinus
- The Fire Dance
- The Hajj
- The Hunter's Prayer
- The Serpent Rite
- Theban Sorcery
Related Ranks & Titles
Related Professions
Storyteller's Option: The Power of Belief
Storyteller's Option: Heresies and the Curia Cruentus
Storyteller's Option: A Pledge to Learn
Storyteller's Option: Activating an Unlearned Ritual
Storyteller's Option: Lay and Secular Ritualists
The Night After the Revolution
The night may come, when The Invictus and the Lancea Sanctum find they can no longer survive in certain domains by relying on their centuries-old methods. The undead aristocracy may kneel at the guillotines of revolution, or The Invictus may ally with the wild pagans of The Crone to infiltrate the grassroots rebellion of the Carthians. The Lancea Sanctum doesn’t confuse deference with dependence — it won’t allow itself to be pulled down by the fall of The Invictus. The Kindred social landscape would therefore look very different following a schism in the two Estates.The Lancea Sanctum might well enter into partnerships with new political covenants, such as the Carthians, to maintain the visibility of Longinus and the church. In the absence of a political partner, however, many Sanctified have the experience in city politics and internecine hierarchies to excel as governors of the Damned. In more than a few cities, soft Invictus landlords are little more than public-relations officers for the Sanctified. In other, newer cities, the Lancea Sanctum has been well-established for decades without any Invictus support whatsoever.
The night may come when the young revolutionaries overthrow their stagnant ancestorkings, but few of the followers of Longinus may be willing to let their churches burn in defense of a secular cause. God’s curse on the undead is more important than politics. Politicians comes and go, but the Curse is undying. When the fires cool and the smoke clears, the Sanctified seek out the victors and remind them where a vampire’s attention truly lies: on the bare throats of their breathing prey.
Concerning...
Golconda: Golconda is a cruel delusion at best, a wicked heresy at worst. Such tales lead Kindred away from accepting their place in God's plan.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
Carthians: "Blind finatics."
Lancea Sanctum: "Faithless but determined."
Many Sanctified just don’t see the point of the Carthian philosophy; why spend decades, even centuries, adapting mortal ideologies and power structures to the Danse Macabre when tested and workable systems already exist now? Beyond that, nothing in the works of Locke, Rousseau and other thinkers so venerated by Carthian ideologues can account for uniquely Kindred concerns like the Beast, the thirst for Vitae, and the predatory duties that come with the curse of undeath. Sanctified philosophers — even those without strong ties to the covenant’s traditional Invictus alliances — point to these concerns as reasons why Carthian-dominated domains collapse.
Still, the Carthians aren’t typically considered a threat to The Lancea Sanctum power base. As long as they aren’t advocating violations of The Traditions, The Lancea Sanctum is often content to let them have their experiments in secular power. Some Lancea Sanctum leaders see the greatest threat from the Carthians to be the unwelcome revelation that many modern Sanctified don’t much care which political covenant takes the reigns of secular society, so long as that covenant accepts the word of Longinus. The Lancea Sanctum knows it can enjoy great prosperity by sharing power and, while much of that is owed to The Invictus, the model can work just as well with the First Estate replaced.
In fact, many consider the Carthians prime recruitment material – let them come to us, the Sanctified say, once they’ve grown disillusioned trying to reinvent the wheel. Like other vampires, the Carthians come to the Sanctified for advice from time to time, and when they do, they don’t always get the same advice as an Invictus advice-seeker would. Rather than telling a young Carthian, “Elders are the ones who should rule, given their greater knowledge and experience,” it’s common for one of the Sanctified to be vague, inviting the Carthian to a ritual or mass so that she can “learn more” about the question. It’s a variation on mortal cult tactics, sure – learn a person’s insecurities and then suggest your group can help solve them – but it often works, as many Carthians are far less passionate about Carthian philosophy in particular than they are about finding that indefinable quality they feel is missing from their existence.
The Carthians Haven’t chosen to devote themselves to a Requiem spent within The Lancea Sanctum, but neither have they chosen to oppose the Sanctified church by joining a religious cult. Longinus did not decree one political system to be innately superior to another, so The Lancea Sanctum accepts undead worshippers from any secular affiliation. Cooperation across party lines reinforces the notion that faith can be the ground underfoot in all Requiems — not just those who salute The Invictus.
Working with the Carthians allows The Lancea Sanctum to renew its standing as a covenant separate from The Invictus, where necessary. Many Kindred confuse membership in The Invictus with an importance in city politics, and thus the division between the First and Second Estates seems to be a division between political and spiritual importance. By untangling itself from The Invictus and gaining ground “behind” both the First Estate and the Carthians, The Lancea Sanctum accentuates its role as a spiritual order rather than a temporal one. Plus, some freedom from The Invictus may allow Sanctified Kindred to obtain positions of power in the city hierarchy normally granted by assumption to an Invictus vampire. If The Lancea Sanctum seeks political power, it may be easier to let the Carthians unseat established Invictus vampires first.
Much more tolerant of Carthian experimentation than The Invictus, The Lancea Sanctum still finds itself at odds with the Movement in many domains. Most Bishops will accept (and even encourage) the attendance of declared Carthian members in the Sanctified churches, hoping that the teachings of The Lancea Sanctum will eventually convert the wayward Kindred and lead them to a brighter future. Coincidentally, this is almost exactly what the Carthians who attend the masses are hoping will happen to the Sanctified vampires once they, in turn, are exposed to the ideology of the Movement.
The problem with this relationship is that it’s nothing more than temporary tolerance. Sooner or later, somebody either decides that the other covenant’s members aren’t changing fast enough or, worse, that they’re too good at conveying their way of thought to one’s own membership. When that happens, as it inevitably does, the two groups break with one another and rarely mend their ties. Forbearance sours into acrimony, and former Allies become bitter rivals, forcing their mixed membership to choose sides in a rapidly deteriorating relationship.
Predicting which Sanctified Kindred are likely to convert to the Carthian cause is difficult. Only those who suffer a crisis of faith seem to be willing to entertain the intellectual arguments of the Movement as serious philosophy. Whether that crisis comes from decades of eroding belief or from a sudden breach of trust, the shamed or fearful vampires who experience it almost always hide it. Many try to deny their feelings, hoping that the fire of conviction will rekindle itself before anyone notices their slip. Astute Carthians must learn to recognize the signs of doubt in Sanctified Kindred, and to broach the subject of conversion diplomatically.
Carthians are rarely happy in a Sanctified domain, generally because the superior powers in The Lancea Sanctum preach disconnection from one’s mortal roots and assumption of a new, entirely supernatural persona — a doctrine foreign to the mortal-compatible vampires of the Movement. The more power The Lancea Sanctum has, the less humane the Sanctified’s behavior at gatherings and functions of the local Kindred. Younger Carthians especially find themselves alienated by the stylistic ritual and revelry of The Lancea Sanctum, steeped as it is in increasingly archaic Language and lore.
On the other hand, Sanctified Kindred tend to thrive in Carthian domains, so long as the governing body does not outlaw the Sanctified’s religion. If it remains legal, the Church is treated as a perfectly acceptable refuge (and outlet) for vampires with a yearning for spirituality and ritual (and, some say, anachronism). If the Church’s Bishop is politically passive, The Lancea Sanctum is treated by most Carthian leaders as little more than a relatively harmless social club, a place for like-minded, old-fashioned Kindred to pass the time. Of course, the Carthians of some domains don’t have quite as much tolerance for religious orders of any kind, and may well choose to outlaw the Church.
The local Lancea Sanctum leadership may appoint a representative of the parish to act as liaison (or recruiter) for the Carthians. Whereas a liaison to other factions might be chosen for his religious insight or familiarity with scripture and custom, a delegate to the Carthians is more likely to be chosen for his raw charisma. Sanctified elders know the Carthians rely on appearance to influence their own membership and don’t expect to build bridges with needless challenges.
In domains where the Sanctified have grown restless with the covenant’s traditional relationship with The Invictus — or in cities where such relationships never existed — the Lancea Sanctum may be eager to find a new partner in politics. The Carthian social apparatus is built to facilitate easy communication and a sense of social belonging among the scattered and secretive members of Kindred society, so it is likewise well-suited to the spreading of Sanctified gospel. Those young revolutionaries huddled around the back table of the all-night coffeehouse, waggling well-worn copies of political tracts, could put The Testament on their reading list. The activist speaking out at Elysium can draw on the story of Longinus for powerful metaphors of lone vampires with the wisdom and might to reform Kindred society.
The drive to involve the evangel of Longinus in the formative stages of Carthian governments isn’t necessarily subversive, however. (Such skullduggery would traditionally be left to The Invictus, anyway.) Sanctified Priests are genuinely concerned that a movement away from traditional vampiric social structures would endanger the souls of Kindred who mistake the Lancea Sanctum as a political organization. The Lancea Sanctum doesn’t want tonight’s revolutionaries thinking there’sno room for religion in a radical new vampire state.
The Carthians and the Sanctified therefore have a common goal: to attract and bind together an ever-changing society of young vampires. Not only does an alliance with the Carthians allow The Testament of Longinus to reach even Kindred who might not have participated in religion as mortals, it allows the Lancea Sanctum to modernize itself in the eyes of neonates. If the Lancea Sanctum is to simultaneously maintain a demeanor of contemporary relevance and ancient significance, it may need the expertise of the Carthians. Sharing the manpower of the two covenants benefits them both; every Carthian or Sanctified vampire brought into one covenant is also one less enemy for the other.
The Lancea Sanctum believes a Kindred’s personal betterment — by playing the role laid out by God — demands a dedication to personal responsibility. Carthian treatises say personal betterment — by filling the roles demanded by society — requires similar personal responsibility. The two covenants can certainly coexist productively. As a Kindred must keep his intellect in balance with his predatory role to avoid devolving into a ravenous beast, so must he keep his ambitions in balance with his civil duties to prevent a new state from devolving into anarchy.
Lancea Sanctum: "Faithless but determined."
Many Sanctified just don’t see the point of the Carthian philosophy; why spend decades, even centuries, adapting mortal ideologies and power structures to the Danse Macabre when tested and workable systems already exist now? Beyond that, nothing in the works of Locke, Rousseau and other thinkers so venerated by Carthian ideologues can account for uniquely Kindred concerns like the Beast, the thirst for Vitae, and the predatory duties that come with the curse of undeath. Sanctified philosophers — even those without strong ties to the covenant’s traditional Invictus alliances — point to these concerns as reasons why Carthian-dominated domains collapse.
Still, the Carthians aren’t typically considered a threat to The Lancea Sanctum power base. As long as they aren’t advocating violations of The Traditions, The Lancea Sanctum is often content to let them have their experiments in secular power. Some Lancea Sanctum leaders see the greatest threat from the Carthians to be the unwelcome revelation that many modern Sanctified don’t much care which political covenant takes the reigns of secular society, so long as that covenant accepts the word of Longinus. The Lancea Sanctum knows it can enjoy great prosperity by sharing power and, while much of that is owed to The Invictus, the model can work just as well with the First Estate replaced.
In fact, many consider the Carthians prime recruitment material – let them come to us, the Sanctified say, once they’ve grown disillusioned trying to reinvent the wheel. Like other vampires, the Carthians come to the Sanctified for advice from time to time, and when they do, they don’t always get the same advice as an Invictus advice-seeker would. Rather than telling a young Carthian, “Elders are the ones who should rule, given their greater knowledge and experience,” it’s common for one of the Sanctified to be vague, inviting the Carthian to a ritual or mass so that she can “learn more” about the question. It’s a variation on mortal cult tactics, sure – learn a person’s insecurities and then suggest your group can help solve them – but it often works, as many Carthians are far less passionate about Carthian philosophy in particular than they are about finding that indefinable quality they feel is missing from their existence.
The Carthians Haven’t chosen to devote themselves to a Requiem spent within The Lancea Sanctum, but neither have they chosen to oppose the Sanctified church by joining a religious cult. Longinus did not decree one political system to be innately superior to another, so The Lancea Sanctum accepts undead worshippers from any secular affiliation. Cooperation across party lines reinforces the notion that faith can be the ground underfoot in all Requiems — not just those who salute The Invictus.
Working with the Carthians allows The Lancea Sanctum to renew its standing as a covenant separate from The Invictus, where necessary. Many Kindred confuse membership in The Invictus with an importance in city politics, and thus the division between the First and Second Estates seems to be a division between political and spiritual importance. By untangling itself from The Invictus and gaining ground “behind” both the First Estate and the Carthians, The Lancea Sanctum accentuates its role as a spiritual order rather than a temporal one. Plus, some freedom from The Invictus may allow Sanctified Kindred to obtain positions of power in the city hierarchy normally granted by assumption to an Invictus vampire. If The Lancea Sanctum seeks political power, it may be easier to let the Carthians unseat established Invictus vampires first.
Much more tolerant of Carthian experimentation than The Invictus, The Lancea Sanctum still finds itself at odds with the Movement in many domains. Most Bishops will accept (and even encourage) the attendance of declared Carthian members in the Sanctified churches, hoping that the teachings of The Lancea Sanctum will eventually convert the wayward Kindred and lead them to a brighter future. Coincidentally, this is almost exactly what the Carthians who attend the masses are hoping will happen to the Sanctified vampires once they, in turn, are exposed to the ideology of the Movement.
The problem with this relationship is that it’s nothing more than temporary tolerance. Sooner or later, somebody either decides that the other covenant’s members aren’t changing fast enough or, worse, that they’re too good at conveying their way of thought to one’s own membership. When that happens, as it inevitably does, the two groups break with one another and rarely mend their ties. Forbearance sours into acrimony, and former Allies become bitter rivals, forcing their mixed membership to choose sides in a rapidly deteriorating relationship.
Predicting which Sanctified Kindred are likely to convert to the Carthian cause is difficult. Only those who suffer a crisis of faith seem to be willing to entertain the intellectual arguments of the Movement as serious philosophy. Whether that crisis comes from decades of eroding belief or from a sudden breach of trust, the shamed or fearful vampires who experience it almost always hide it. Many try to deny their feelings, hoping that the fire of conviction will rekindle itself before anyone notices their slip. Astute Carthians must learn to recognize the signs of doubt in Sanctified Kindred, and to broach the subject of conversion diplomatically.
Carthians are rarely happy in a Sanctified domain, generally because the superior powers in The Lancea Sanctum preach disconnection from one’s mortal roots and assumption of a new, entirely supernatural persona — a doctrine foreign to the mortal-compatible vampires of the Movement. The more power The Lancea Sanctum has, the less humane the Sanctified’s behavior at gatherings and functions of the local Kindred. Younger Carthians especially find themselves alienated by the stylistic ritual and revelry of The Lancea Sanctum, steeped as it is in increasingly archaic Language and lore.
On the other hand, Sanctified Kindred tend to thrive in Carthian domains, so long as the governing body does not outlaw the Sanctified’s religion. If it remains legal, the Church is treated as a perfectly acceptable refuge (and outlet) for vampires with a yearning for spirituality and ritual (and, some say, anachronism). If the Church’s Bishop is politically passive, The Lancea Sanctum is treated by most Carthian leaders as little more than a relatively harmless social club, a place for like-minded, old-fashioned Kindred to pass the time. Of course, the Carthians of some domains don’t have quite as much tolerance for religious orders of any kind, and may well choose to outlaw the Church.
The local Lancea Sanctum leadership may appoint a representative of the parish to act as liaison (or recruiter) for the Carthians. Whereas a liaison to other factions might be chosen for his religious insight or familiarity with scripture and custom, a delegate to the Carthians is more likely to be chosen for his raw charisma. Sanctified elders know the Carthians rely on appearance to influence their own membership and don’t expect to build bridges with needless challenges.
In domains where the Sanctified have grown restless with the covenant’s traditional relationship with The Invictus — or in cities where such relationships never existed — the Lancea Sanctum may be eager to find a new partner in politics. The Carthian social apparatus is built to facilitate easy communication and a sense of social belonging among the scattered and secretive members of Kindred society, so it is likewise well-suited to the spreading of Sanctified gospel. Those young revolutionaries huddled around the back table of the all-night coffeehouse, waggling well-worn copies of political tracts, could put The Testament on their reading list. The activist speaking out at Elysium can draw on the story of Longinus for powerful metaphors of lone vampires with the wisdom and might to reform Kindred society.
The drive to involve the evangel of Longinus in the formative stages of Carthian governments isn’t necessarily subversive, however. (Such skullduggery would traditionally be left to The Invictus, anyway.) Sanctified Priests are genuinely concerned that a movement away from traditional vampiric social structures would endanger the souls of Kindred who mistake the Lancea Sanctum as a political organization. The Lancea Sanctum doesn’t want tonight’s revolutionaries thinking there’sno room for religion in a radical new vampire state.
The Carthians and the Sanctified therefore have a common goal: to attract and bind together an ever-changing society of young vampires. Not only does an alliance with the Carthians allow The Testament of Longinus to reach even Kindred who might not have participated in religion as mortals, it allows the Lancea Sanctum to modernize itself in the eyes of neonates. If the Lancea Sanctum is to simultaneously maintain a demeanor of contemporary relevance and ancient significance, it may need the expertise of the Carthians. Sharing the manpower of the two covenants benefits them both; every Carthian or Sanctified vampire brought into one covenant is also one less enemy for the other.
The Lancea Sanctum believes a Kindred’s personal betterment — by playing the role laid out by God — demands a dedication to personal responsibility. Carthian treatises say personal betterment — by filling the roles demanded by society — requires similar personal responsibility. The two covenants can certainly coexist productively. As a Kindred must keep his intellect in balance with his predatory role to avoid devolving into a ravenous beast, so must he keep his ambitions in balance with his civil duties to prevent a new state from devolving into anarchy.
Neutral
Lancea Sanctum: "Iconoclasts and apostates."
The unbound are simply those Kindred who have yet to make sense of their curse because we have yet to explain it to the best of our ability,” wrote a Sanctified elder of New York. In general, it can be said that The Lancea Sanctum regards unaligned vampires as only partially formed people. Some may have no exposure whatsoever to The Testament of Longinus, and so cannot yet be fairly judged. Some may have had no contact at all with Kindred society. Some may even be fulfilling God’s design without understanding the profound importance of their actions. The lone vampire, lurking in the shadowy stairwells of the city, who encounters mortals only when he sneaks into their pens to carry off a carcass, could be held up as a symbol of fearless predation. Like a noble savage, he could be brought to the parish pews and educated in the true meaning of his simple but admirable ways.
Independent Kindred are common subjects of Sanctified Sermons and frequent targets of Sanctified evangelism. In Monachal parables, the unbound are often referred to like those sorry vampires who fed and died before the Damnation of Longinus, with a sad hopefulness that something may yet be done for their souls. More modern views see The Unaligned as “predators on the verge of becoming,” as that Manhattan sermonizer wrote. Whether they are becoming admirable monsters or blasphemous heathens varies, and is always in question.
The Unaligned are the great, roaming flocks The Lancea Sanctum seeks to convert. All other vampires come to the Sanctified tangled in ideologies, loyalties, and ties to other covenants, but the unbound are the sort of cursed masses Monachus wrote about. Each is a chance for a Sanctified Priest to become a preacher and Mentor. Each is a chance for a member of The Lancea Sanctum to do unto another what was done unto him. Each is both a snarling monster in the shadows of undead society and a misguided convert-to-be. It’s not unfair to say that The Lancea Sanctum has romanticized the unknown quantities of unaligned vampires.
Each unaligned vampire is a unique case, so no two partnerships between independent vampires and The Lancea Sanctum are quite alike. Perhaps the only generalization that can be made is this: The Lancea Sanctum makes examples of the unbound whenever possible. Sometimes this means a fiery execution. Sometimes this means a subtle and slow conversion.
The Lancea Sanctum grants temporary sanctuary to unaligned Kindred just so word of the covenant’s generosity might spread through independent circles. Special grants of feeding ground and invitations to no-strings-attached covenant rites may be offered to keep an independent and her Contacts within shouting distance of the covenant. A few get away with things even Sanctified Kindred would be jealous of, including trespassing, poaching, and, very rarely, siring. Only when an unbound vampire becomes more trouble than she’s worth do the Sanctified eliminate her (and much chance of converting her allies). Of course, an unbound vampire isn’t worth much in well-populated domains.
The Lancea Sanctum is only too happy to make special arrangements for the employment of unaligned vampires for odd jobs as inconspicuous subway-riding couriers, unexpected gas-can-carrying assassins or tuxedoed players in some political theatrics at court. The covenant always pays, at least in part, with rewards likely to pull the independent into the fold (such as room for a Haven in Sanctified territory). The LanceaSanctum, as an organization, is extremely patient and farsighted — much more so than any lone vampire is likely to be. Sanctified leaders understand Kindred impulses and behavior quite well, possibly better than an unaligned vampire understands herself, and may be willing to grant wealth or some mystical power to an independent if such an investment is likely to be rewarded with valuable converts. Vampires who accept such grants should [are wise to?] know what they’re getting into.
The unbound are simply those Kindred who have yet to make sense of their curse because we have yet to explain it to the best of our ability,” wrote a Sanctified elder of New York. In general, it can be said that The Lancea Sanctum regards unaligned vampires as only partially formed people. Some may have no exposure whatsoever to The Testament of Longinus, and so cannot yet be fairly judged. Some may have had no contact at all with Kindred society. Some may even be fulfilling God’s design without understanding the profound importance of their actions. The lone vampire, lurking in the shadowy stairwells of the city, who encounters mortals only when he sneaks into their pens to carry off a carcass, could be held up as a symbol of fearless predation. Like a noble savage, he could be brought to the parish pews and educated in the true meaning of his simple but admirable ways.
Independent Kindred are common subjects of Sanctified Sermons and frequent targets of Sanctified evangelism. In Monachal parables, the unbound are often referred to like those sorry vampires who fed and died before the Damnation of Longinus, with a sad hopefulness that something may yet be done for their souls. More modern views see The Unaligned as “predators on the verge of becoming,” as that Manhattan sermonizer wrote. Whether they are becoming admirable monsters or blasphemous heathens varies, and is always in question.
The Unaligned are the great, roaming flocks The Lancea Sanctum seeks to convert. All other vampires come to the Sanctified tangled in ideologies, loyalties, and ties to other covenants, but the unbound are the sort of cursed masses Monachus wrote about. Each is a chance for a Sanctified Priest to become a preacher and Mentor. Each is a chance for a member of The Lancea Sanctum to do unto another what was done unto him. Each is both a snarling monster in the shadows of undead society and a misguided convert-to-be. It’s not unfair to say that The Lancea Sanctum has romanticized the unknown quantities of unaligned vampires.
Each unaligned vampire is a unique case, so no two partnerships between independent vampires and The Lancea Sanctum are quite alike. Perhaps the only generalization that can be made is this: The Lancea Sanctum makes examples of the unbound whenever possible. Sometimes this means a fiery execution. Sometimes this means a subtle and slow conversion.
The Lancea Sanctum grants temporary sanctuary to unaligned Kindred just so word of the covenant’s generosity might spread through independent circles. Special grants of feeding ground and invitations to no-strings-attached covenant rites may be offered to keep an independent and her Contacts within shouting distance of the covenant. A few get away with things even Sanctified Kindred would be jealous of, including trespassing, poaching, and, very rarely, siring. Only when an unbound vampire becomes more trouble than she’s worth do the Sanctified eliminate her (and much chance of converting her allies). Of course, an unbound vampire isn’t worth much in well-populated domains.
The Lancea Sanctum is only too happy to make special arrangements for the employment of unaligned vampires for odd jobs as inconspicuous subway-riding couriers, unexpected gas-can-carrying assassins or tuxedoed players in some political theatrics at court. The covenant always pays, at least in part, with rewards likely to pull the independent into the fold (such as room for a Haven in Sanctified territory). The LanceaSanctum, as an organization, is extremely patient and farsighted — much more so than any lone vampire is likely to be. Sanctified leaders understand Kindred impulses and behavior quite well, possibly better than an unaligned vampire understands herself, and may be willing to grant wealth or some mystical power to an independent if such an investment is likely to be rewarded with valuable converts. Vampires who accept such grants should [are wise to?] know what they’re getting into.
Tentatively Neutral
Lancea Sanctum: "Spiritually gone wrong."
Ordo Dracul: "Emphasize order instead of improvement."
The Lancea Sanctum feels all Kindred should believe and behave as they do, so many Sanctified consider The Ordo Dracul to be among the greatest problems in Kindred society tonight. Strictly traditional Sanctified vampires — especially elder fundamentalists — may see the Dragons as heretics against the curse-lauding word of Longinus, but the “problem” of The Ordo Dracul is commonly regarded as something trickier than a simple adversarial relationship in modern nights. The quandary is this: the work of The Ordo Dracul, the Research into the vampiric condition, may be useful to The Lancea Sanctum even though its goals are directly opposed to those of the “Second Estate.” The Dragons have the advantage of a perspective straddling the scientific and the supernatural, which The Lancea Sanctum cannot adopt — even if it wanted to — without weakening its own spiritual position. The Dragons may uncover secret truths about the Kindred that could be of great use to The Lancea Sanctum using methods the holier covenant neither understands nor has an interest in learning. Is there a way for the work of the Dragons to be appreciated and put to Sanctified use without promoting or formally approving of their practices?
Absolutely. The Lancea Sanctum has a history of dealing with heretics from within (an Athenian neonate who circulated his own translation of the Testament on CD-ROM was brought in by his local Bishop to create flyers to attract neonate atheists to the group) and without (an anthropologist loyal to The Circle of the Crone was summoned to the Cardinal of Kansas City in 1951 to authenticate a Civil War-era ghoulskull), and, as a result, Sanctified leaders have experience separating the wheat from the chaff in acceptable and deviant belief systems. Those same skills can be put to use dealing with the Dragons and their Research. With methods that vary on a case-by-case basis, Sanctified theologians extract and exhibit useful bits of lore and wisdom from the works of Ordo Dracul scientist-philosophers while crushing cast-off Dragon conclusions underfoot. With one hand a Sanctified evangelist can raise up the words of a Dragon while Throwing out her meaning with the other hand. This gives The Lancea Sanctum an appearance of cultural flexibility and well-roundedness that appeals to outsiders and the membership alike. More than one Dragon has been converted or appeased in this way.
In some domains, especially those where the two covenants do not vie for temporal control, The Lancea Sanctum can treat The Ordo Dracul with the kind of polite pity individual Sanctified may practice in any domain: Sanctified Priests civilly engage Dragons in social situations or intellectual exchanges while quietly sighing for the loss of another errant Kindred to ignoble, heretical damnation. The Ordo Dracul can be respected for asking many of the right questions even while they are pitied for revering the wrong answers. The gallery of the operating theater was spotted with soft, red Sanctified robes the night of the first public vampire vivisection performed by Dragon physicians in Edinburgh, 1896; the Priests felt it proved the godly Resilience and superiority of vampires, while the Dragons thought it would suggest the Curse could be cured like an ailment. Academically minded followers of Longinus may even consider philosophical sparring with a well-reasoning Dragon, the two huddled and arguing over a rescued tome, a welcome exercise of his faith.
All of this presupposes that The Ordo Dracul behaves like a secular society with minor or moderate religious considerations. When the Dragons take on the attitude of a religious — even quasi-religious — institution, they risk becoming a tangible threat to any Sanctified Status quo. The Lancea Sanctum doesn’t tolerate competition for the faith of the Damned for long. So long as the Sanctified can conceivably regard (or appear to regard) the Dragons as misguided thinkers who have chosen secular pseudo-science over a Requiem of religion, the two covenants can coexist. So long as The Ordo Dracul maintains an insular presence in the domain and does not lure any of the flock from the shepherd, the Priests can go on treating them as lost sheep. So long as the followers of Dracula appear as a society of doubters rather than a religious alternative, the followers of Longinus can go on pitying them.
The Ordo Dracul has its difference with all of the other Kindred covenants, but the conflict is the most pronounced — and most often violent — with The Lancea Sanctum. The conflict doesn’t stem from the two covenants’ mystical practices. After all, the Theban Sorcery of The Lancea Sanctum is much more visible, pronounced and versatile than The Coils of the Dragon. Their respective methods don’t necessarily clash, either. While Kindred of The Ordo Dracul and The Lancea Sanctum might both seek certain types of Wyrm’s Nests, the practice isn’t nearly common enough among the Sanctified to be a widespread point of contention. The main conflict between the covenants is purely ideological, and has dogged the Damned for years. It is the classic conflict of reason versus faith.
Many powerful Dragons consider The Lancea Sanctum an object lesson in both what can be gained from practical application of occult insight, and everything that is wrong with organized religion. Putting value judgments on what God wants or what He expects of vampires, however, is the same as making assumptions without sufficient evidence. The dogma of The Lancea Sanctum makes the Great Work a sin, and so many Dragons avoid Sanctified temples like a group of church-labeled mortal sinners would avoid the church that branded them.
The Sanctified exalt the role of the Damned, while the Dragons seek to escape it. The Sanctified see the Curse on their figurehead as the embodiment of a divine mission, whereas the Dragons see their forefather’s Damnation as a divine prison. The Sanctified pursue the eternal refinement of a singular, mandated existence while the Dragons explore the possibilities of personal choice over a dozen lifetimes.
The conflict between the two covenants is virtually ever-present. It simply varies in degree. In one city, historians and scholars of The Lancea Sanctum might meet for debates with theosophists and theoreticians of the Ordo Dracul. In another, Guardians might hunt downand burn any Sanctified Kindred within the city limits.
The Lancea Sanctum believes that vampires are inherently superior to mortals, even in their Damnation. The Dragons, on the other hand, are well aware of the many advantages that living people possess over vampires. The simple mortal ability to see the daylight and the darkness is enough to make many Dragons sneer at Sanctified claims of superiority. The two covenants’ origin stories also produce a great deal of strife. To The Ordo Dracul, Longinus was a mythological figure, or at best a simple Kindred who managed to form a religion for vampires out of one for mortals. Dracula’s existence and mortal life, however, is a matter of historical fact, and his distant descendants still live in Romania tonight. When the Sanctified quote the Testiment of Longinus to godless Dragons, they might just as well be quoting a political tract.
Of course, covenants vary greatly from place to place, and The Lancea Sanctum isn’t at war with The Ordo Dracul by any means. The two covenants have a shared history, much like The Ordo Dracul and The Circle of the Crone. Supposedly, Dracula studied among the Sanctified for a time, just as he did with the Acolytes. Unlike The Circle of the Crone, which is often unwilling to accept this possibility, many Sanctified scholars feel that Dracula very well might have joined the covenant briefly, but certainly not long enough to learn, much less master, any facet of Theban Sorcery. The crisis of faith that drew the Impaler away from the Sanctified church continues to this night, but the Sanctified will continue to wait for those Dragons who find their faith again.
The Ordo Dracul doesn’t find that open conflict with any other group is conducive to its goals, and thus prefers to approach The Lancea Sanctum from a position of debate, discussion and ideological exchange rather than aggression or defensive Paranoia. The Sanctified, for their part, would rather try to convert the Dragons than destroy them, if possible, and so coteries with members of both covenants occasionally form in which the Sanctified Kindred attempts to convert The Ordo Dracul Kindred. This serves to sharpen the minds and beliefs of both vampires, and if one of them caves in and converts, then she wasn’t strong enough for her covenant anyway. The fact that The Ordo Dracul seems to lose more members in this fashion than The Lancea Sanctum is a cause for some concern to mentors and Kogaions, but it is an oddity rather than a crisis — the Order requires brilliance over sheer numbers. The Great Work will continue.
The dedication Dragons must have for their cause benefits the Sanctified by granting them an excuse to forego any messy pretenses of conversion. It’s a shame for a Requiem to be wasted, certainly, but a Dragon worth missing has consciously chosen his path to Hell; a Priest can therefore justify milder attempts at enlightenment, rather than wasting his time with heavy-handed proselytizing. The long silences that punctuate the spontaneous theological debates that unfold under the street’s orange sodium lamps are the sounds of a heathen slowly converting; with time and a gentle touch, even a Dragon can be led into church. This civil relationship allows the two covenants to cooperate, even in those domains where both sides are plainly faking their acceptance of the other. The Lancea Sanctum can thus benefit from the efforts of the bespectacled Dragon antiquarians who sift through museum catalogs (possibly rediscovering stolen relics of the vampire church) and the dusty Dragon explorers who dig up mystical sites (and may one night find trace of the Black Abbey).
In exchange, the Dragons may enjoy a degree of “protection” from the Sanctified, insofar as the absence of a conversion campaign by the Church of Longinus implies a level of acceptability — if even the fanatical paladins of Longinus aren’t smiting the Dragons, then vampires of other local covenants will appear as extremists if they do.
Strange alliances may form between the two covenants. Clever leaders use each covenant’s stereotypes to strengthen each order’s power base (assuming such power bases do not overlap). The Lancea Sanctum may choose to demonstrate its ruthless intolerance of heresy only on those Dragons who have recently left or lost favor with The Ordo Dracul, for example. The Dragons may send unsuitable or unwelcome would-be members toward a local Priest. Local leaders may tolerate a neonate with “secret” membership in both covenants as a conduit for unofficial communication, sending him off with a waxsealed account of Satanists in the city park or the dingy brass key to a seminary library. Such a pawn may then be granted to one covenant by the other as a sacrificial example of the price of disloyalty. In domains where The Lancea Sanctum and The Ordo Dracul are the religious underdogs, they may openly cooperate to slowly erode the ruling covenant’s membership over decades, as new vampires are Embraced.
Ordo Dracul: "Emphasize order instead of improvement."
The Lancea Sanctum feels all Kindred should believe and behave as they do, so many Sanctified consider The Ordo Dracul to be among the greatest problems in Kindred society tonight. Strictly traditional Sanctified vampires — especially elder fundamentalists — may see the Dragons as heretics against the curse-lauding word of Longinus, but the “problem” of The Ordo Dracul is commonly regarded as something trickier than a simple adversarial relationship in modern nights. The quandary is this: the work of The Ordo Dracul, the Research into the vampiric condition, may be useful to The Lancea Sanctum even though its goals are directly opposed to those of the “Second Estate.” The Dragons have the advantage of a perspective straddling the scientific and the supernatural, which The Lancea Sanctum cannot adopt — even if it wanted to — without weakening its own spiritual position. The Dragons may uncover secret truths about the Kindred that could be of great use to The Lancea Sanctum using methods the holier covenant neither understands nor has an interest in learning. Is there a way for the work of the Dragons to be appreciated and put to Sanctified use without promoting or formally approving of their practices?
Absolutely. The Lancea Sanctum has a history of dealing with heretics from within (an Athenian neonate who circulated his own translation of the Testament on CD-ROM was brought in by his local Bishop to create flyers to attract neonate atheists to the group) and without (an anthropologist loyal to The Circle of the Crone was summoned to the Cardinal of Kansas City in 1951 to authenticate a Civil War-era ghoulskull), and, as a result, Sanctified leaders have experience separating the wheat from the chaff in acceptable and deviant belief systems. Those same skills can be put to use dealing with the Dragons and their Research. With methods that vary on a case-by-case basis, Sanctified theologians extract and exhibit useful bits of lore and wisdom from the works of Ordo Dracul scientist-philosophers while crushing cast-off Dragon conclusions underfoot. With one hand a Sanctified evangelist can raise up the words of a Dragon while Throwing out her meaning with the other hand. This gives The Lancea Sanctum an appearance of cultural flexibility and well-roundedness that appeals to outsiders and the membership alike. More than one Dragon has been converted or appeased in this way.
In some domains, especially those where the two covenants do not vie for temporal control, The Lancea Sanctum can treat The Ordo Dracul with the kind of polite pity individual Sanctified may practice in any domain: Sanctified Priests civilly engage Dragons in social situations or intellectual exchanges while quietly sighing for the loss of another errant Kindred to ignoble, heretical damnation. The Ordo Dracul can be respected for asking many of the right questions even while they are pitied for revering the wrong answers. The gallery of the operating theater was spotted with soft, red Sanctified robes the night of the first public vampire vivisection performed by Dragon physicians in Edinburgh, 1896; the Priests felt it proved the godly Resilience and superiority of vampires, while the Dragons thought it would suggest the Curse could be cured like an ailment. Academically minded followers of Longinus may even consider philosophical sparring with a well-reasoning Dragon, the two huddled and arguing over a rescued tome, a welcome exercise of his faith.
All of this presupposes that The Ordo Dracul behaves like a secular society with minor or moderate religious considerations. When the Dragons take on the attitude of a religious — even quasi-religious — institution, they risk becoming a tangible threat to any Sanctified Status quo. The Lancea Sanctum doesn’t tolerate competition for the faith of the Damned for long. So long as the Sanctified can conceivably regard (or appear to regard) the Dragons as misguided thinkers who have chosen secular pseudo-science over a Requiem of religion, the two covenants can coexist. So long as The Ordo Dracul maintains an insular presence in the domain and does not lure any of the flock from the shepherd, the Priests can go on treating them as lost sheep. So long as the followers of Dracula appear as a society of doubters rather than a religious alternative, the followers of Longinus can go on pitying them.
The Ordo Dracul has its difference with all of the other Kindred covenants, but the conflict is the most pronounced — and most often violent — with The Lancea Sanctum. The conflict doesn’t stem from the two covenants’ mystical practices. After all, the Theban Sorcery of The Lancea Sanctum is much more visible, pronounced and versatile than The Coils of the Dragon. Their respective methods don’t necessarily clash, either. While Kindred of The Ordo Dracul and The Lancea Sanctum might both seek certain types of Wyrm’s Nests, the practice isn’t nearly common enough among the Sanctified to be a widespread point of contention. The main conflict between the covenants is purely ideological, and has dogged the Damned for years. It is the classic conflict of reason versus faith.
Many powerful Dragons consider The Lancea Sanctum an object lesson in both what can be gained from practical application of occult insight, and everything that is wrong with organized religion. Putting value judgments on what God wants or what He expects of vampires, however, is the same as making assumptions without sufficient evidence. The dogma of The Lancea Sanctum makes the Great Work a sin, and so many Dragons avoid Sanctified temples like a group of church-labeled mortal sinners would avoid the church that branded them.
The Sanctified exalt the role of the Damned, while the Dragons seek to escape it. The Sanctified see the Curse on their figurehead as the embodiment of a divine mission, whereas the Dragons see their forefather’s Damnation as a divine prison. The Sanctified pursue the eternal refinement of a singular, mandated existence while the Dragons explore the possibilities of personal choice over a dozen lifetimes.
The conflict between the two covenants is virtually ever-present. It simply varies in degree. In one city, historians and scholars of The Lancea Sanctum might meet for debates with theosophists and theoreticians of the Ordo Dracul. In another, Guardians might hunt downand burn any Sanctified Kindred within the city limits.
The Lancea Sanctum believes that vampires are inherently superior to mortals, even in their Damnation. The Dragons, on the other hand, are well aware of the many advantages that living people possess over vampires. The simple mortal ability to see the daylight and the darkness is enough to make many Dragons sneer at Sanctified claims of superiority. The two covenants’ origin stories also produce a great deal of strife. To The Ordo Dracul, Longinus was a mythological figure, or at best a simple Kindred who managed to form a religion for vampires out of one for mortals. Dracula’s existence and mortal life, however, is a matter of historical fact, and his distant descendants still live in Romania tonight. When the Sanctified quote the Testiment of Longinus to godless Dragons, they might just as well be quoting a political tract.
Of course, covenants vary greatly from place to place, and The Lancea Sanctum isn’t at war with The Ordo Dracul by any means. The two covenants have a shared history, much like The Ordo Dracul and The Circle of the Crone. Supposedly, Dracula studied among the Sanctified for a time, just as he did with the Acolytes. Unlike The Circle of the Crone, which is often unwilling to accept this possibility, many Sanctified scholars feel that Dracula very well might have joined the covenant briefly, but certainly not long enough to learn, much less master, any facet of Theban Sorcery. The crisis of faith that drew the Impaler away from the Sanctified church continues to this night, but the Sanctified will continue to wait for those Dragons who find their faith again.
The Ordo Dracul doesn’t find that open conflict with any other group is conducive to its goals, and thus prefers to approach The Lancea Sanctum from a position of debate, discussion and ideological exchange rather than aggression or defensive Paranoia. The Sanctified, for their part, would rather try to convert the Dragons than destroy them, if possible, and so coteries with members of both covenants occasionally form in which the Sanctified Kindred attempts to convert The Ordo Dracul Kindred. This serves to sharpen the minds and beliefs of both vampires, and if one of them caves in and converts, then she wasn’t strong enough for her covenant anyway. The fact that The Ordo Dracul seems to lose more members in this fashion than The Lancea Sanctum is a cause for some concern to mentors and Kogaions, but it is an oddity rather than a crisis — the Order requires brilliance over sheer numbers. The Great Work will continue.
The dedication Dragons must have for their cause benefits the Sanctified by granting them an excuse to forego any messy pretenses of conversion. It’s a shame for a Requiem to be wasted, certainly, but a Dragon worth missing has consciously chosen his path to Hell; a Priest can therefore justify milder attempts at enlightenment, rather than wasting his time with heavy-handed proselytizing. The long silences that punctuate the spontaneous theological debates that unfold under the street’s orange sodium lamps are the sounds of a heathen slowly converting; with time and a gentle touch, even a Dragon can be led into church. This civil relationship allows the two covenants to cooperate, even in those domains where both sides are plainly faking their acceptance of the other. The Lancea Sanctum can thus benefit from the efforts of the bespectacled Dragon antiquarians who sift through museum catalogs (possibly rediscovering stolen relics of the vampire church) and the dusty Dragon explorers who dig up mystical sites (and may one night find trace of the Black Abbey).
In exchange, the Dragons may enjoy a degree of “protection” from the Sanctified, insofar as the absence of a conversion campaign by the Church of Longinus implies a level of acceptability — if even the fanatical paladins of Longinus aren’t smiting the Dragons, then vampires of other local covenants will appear as extremists if they do.
Strange alliances may form between the two covenants. Clever leaders use each covenant’s stereotypes to strengthen each order’s power base (assuming such power bases do not overlap). The Lancea Sanctum may choose to demonstrate its ruthless intolerance of heresy only on those Dragons who have recently left or lost favor with The Ordo Dracul, for example. The Dragons may send unsuitable or unwelcome would-be members toward a local Priest. Local leaders may tolerate a neonate with “secret” membership in both covenants as a conduit for unofficial communication, sending him off with a waxsealed account of Satanists in the city park or the dingy brass key to a seminary library. Such a pawn may then be granted to one covenant by the other as a sacrificial example of the price of disloyalty. In domains where The Lancea Sanctum and The Ordo Dracul are the religious underdogs, they may openly cooperate to slowly erode the ruling covenant’s membership over decades, as new vampires are Embraced.
Barely Neutral
Circle of The Crone: "Hateful demagogues."
Lancea Sanctum: "Heretics, witches and worse."
Across the lands of the World of Darkness, in its most tangled and wooded recesses and its most cold and crowded urban warrens, there may be no more reviled heretics against Longinus than the Acolytes of this witch-coven of Croneworshippers. They are not simply doubters or weak-spirited, and they do not merely seek a Coward’s pitiful escape from the Curse or a self-indulgent seat on some throne of the Damned — they actively avoid the Word of Longinus and waste their nights with idleness and idolatry. The witches and fools and The Circle of the Crone actively choose to exist — to perpetuate! — the sad ignorance suffered by those untouched Beasts who prowled the night before God revealed the vampires’ destiny to Longinus. These are the pagans in the spiritual wilds, where the church bells of The Lancea Sanctum are barely heard and often cursed with contempt.
Strictly speaking, The Lancea Sanctum has little tolerance for blasphemers and pretend religions. Certainly the Croneworshippers are the villainous centerpiece in the great and fiery Sermons of many Bishops. Without a doubt they are the preferred infidel of warmongering Sanctified crusaders and witch-hunters, for they can be smote without remorse as threats to the Church and The Traditions. It is well known among the swords of The Lancea Sanctum that Acolytes of The Crone are blood addicts, celebrators of the Amaranth, and prolific breeders.
Of course, relationships between individual Sanctified and individual Acolytes come in a great many more varieties than those well known among the swords of either covenant. The Lancea Sanctum finds it useful to propagate the hateful stereotypes of The Circle of the Crone as a means of keeping the gatekeepers vigilant and the wider congregation afraid. When The Circle of the Crone grows too powerful locally or some temporary partnership falls apart, the Sanctified leadership gladly drapes any enemy Acolyte in the cowl of the heathen barbarian.
The Sanctified have learned over the centuries that it is best for them to devote their energies inward, to the solidarity and security of their own covenant. Endless crusades against The Crone and her minions, and endless witch-hunts in search of sinful practitioners of Acolyte blood magic are likely to be just that: endless. The Acolytes are weeds in the garden of the faithful, and while one must be wary of weeds, a wise gardener knows that a small weed may keep out a larger, more troublesome plant. Some weeds, in fact, are quite beautiful and can therefore be plucked last.
Partnerships are very rarely made between The Lancea Sanctum and The Circle of the Crone. Most ancillae cannot recall even one fleeting treaty between the two covenants. Those few, well-known unions of the foggy past are usually assumed to be allegorical. Only the most dire threats to a domain could drive these two covenants together — and in many parishes, there simply aren’t enough werewolves in the world to amass such a threat.
Cooperation between a Sanctified vampire and an Acolyte, however, is much more common. Even whole coteries learn to coexist. Some of these relationships are based on strict interpretations of territory and property, both religious and physical. Others are unspoken peace agreements between the rare few devout vampires in a domain who can at least respect faith when they see it. Most have much more to do with the cooperating Kindred than the opposing dogmas.
A Sanctified Priest may speak out against a well-known Acolyte during Midnight Mass, only to routinely meet at Elysium for theological discussion or a game of chess. A coterie of Sanctified and Acolyte neonates might see itself as devout rebels, celebrating piety outside the stricter bonds of organized religion. An Acolyte and a Priest who’ve known each other for a century may look past the vestments and blood when each joins a different covenant. The Sanctified, especially in regions of religiously progressive mortals, may concede that there is insight to be learned from Acolytes, much as exercise strengthens a living muscle. The Sanctified certainly accept that Acolytes may have access to facts and secrets The Lancea Sanctum cannot obtain themselves.
The key to Sanctified and Acolyte partnerships is often a tacit agreement to respect invisible boundaries. One should not assume special treatment by the other’s congregation. One should not assume the partnership is widely approved or should be. One should not assume that cooperation implies approval or tolerance of the other’s dogma. One should not assume the partnership will last forever.
Lancea Sanctum: "Heretics, witches and worse."
Across the lands of the World of Darkness, in its most tangled and wooded recesses and its most cold and crowded urban warrens, there may be no more reviled heretics against Longinus than the Acolytes of this witch-coven of Croneworshippers. They are not simply doubters or weak-spirited, and they do not merely seek a Coward’s pitiful escape from the Curse or a self-indulgent seat on some throne of the Damned — they actively avoid the Word of Longinus and waste their nights with idleness and idolatry. The witches and fools and The Circle of the Crone actively choose to exist — to perpetuate! — the sad ignorance suffered by those untouched Beasts who prowled the night before God revealed the vampires’ destiny to Longinus. These are the pagans in the spiritual wilds, where the church bells of The Lancea Sanctum are barely heard and often cursed with contempt.
Strictly speaking, The Lancea Sanctum has little tolerance for blasphemers and pretend religions. Certainly the Croneworshippers are the villainous centerpiece in the great and fiery Sermons of many Bishops. Without a doubt they are the preferred infidel of warmongering Sanctified crusaders and witch-hunters, for they can be smote without remorse as threats to the Church and The Traditions. It is well known among the swords of The Lancea Sanctum that Acolytes of The Crone are blood addicts, celebrators of the Amaranth, and prolific breeders.
Of course, relationships between individual Sanctified and individual Acolytes come in a great many more varieties than those well known among the swords of either covenant. The Lancea Sanctum finds it useful to propagate the hateful stereotypes of The Circle of the Crone as a means of keeping the gatekeepers vigilant and the wider congregation afraid. When The Circle of the Crone grows too powerful locally or some temporary partnership falls apart, the Sanctified leadership gladly drapes any enemy Acolyte in the cowl of the heathen barbarian.
The Sanctified have learned over the centuries that it is best for them to devote their energies inward, to the solidarity and security of their own covenant. Endless crusades against The Crone and her minions, and endless witch-hunts in search of sinful practitioners of Acolyte blood magic are likely to be just that: endless. The Acolytes are weeds in the garden of the faithful, and while one must be wary of weeds, a wise gardener knows that a small weed may keep out a larger, more troublesome plant. Some weeds, in fact, are quite beautiful and can therefore be plucked last.
Partnerships are very rarely made between The Lancea Sanctum and The Circle of the Crone. Most ancillae cannot recall even one fleeting treaty between the two covenants. Those few, well-known unions of the foggy past are usually assumed to be allegorical. Only the most dire threats to a domain could drive these two covenants together — and in many parishes, there simply aren’t enough werewolves in the world to amass such a threat.
Cooperation between a Sanctified vampire and an Acolyte, however, is much more common. Even whole coteries learn to coexist. Some of these relationships are based on strict interpretations of territory and property, both religious and physical. Others are unspoken peace agreements between the rare few devout vampires in a domain who can at least respect faith when they see it. Most have much more to do with the cooperating Kindred than the opposing dogmas.
A Sanctified Priest may speak out against a well-known Acolyte during Midnight Mass, only to routinely meet at Elysium for theological discussion or a game of chess. A coterie of Sanctified and Acolyte neonates might see itself as devout rebels, celebrating piety outside the stricter bonds of organized religion. An Acolyte and a Priest who’ve known each other for a century may look past the vestments and blood when each joins a different covenant. The Sanctified, especially in regions of religiously progressive mortals, may concede that there is insight to be learned from Acolytes, much as exercise strengthens a living muscle. The Sanctified certainly accept that Acolytes may have access to facts and secrets The Lancea Sanctum cannot obtain themselves.
The key to Sanctified and Acolyte partnerships is often a tacit agreement to respect invisible boundaries. One should not assume special treatment by the other’s congregation. One should not assume the partnership is widely approved or should be. One should not assume that cooperation implies approval or tolerance of the other’s dogma. One should not assume the partnership will last forever.
Hostile
The Lancea Sanctum More than one preacher within The Lancea Sanctum has made her mark with fiery speeches condemning the debased and vile practices of Belial’s Brood. But despite the inflammatory comments and pulpit thumping, the Forsworn rarely have dealings or conflicts with the Sanctified. The Lancea Sanctum is most comfortable when conceptualizing the Brood as an obnoxious tumor, a strange growth of satanism on the otherwise healthy body of vampirekind. While the Forsworn are far from flattered by such ignorance, it is a state of affairs they generally prefer. No amount of dialogue will endear the vampires of the Sanctified to the precepts of Belial’s Brood, so better that the Sanctified know nothing about the covenant at all beyond their laughable bedtime stories. Moreover, The Lancea Sanctum rarely takes an active role in confronting Belial’s Brood unless the Forsworn overtly (and traceably) trespass one of The Traditions.
The Brood believes it is the strange powers of the Forsworn that most terrify The Lancea Sanctum. The fact that Belial’s Brood displays abilities that turn divinely imposed limitations on their head seems alien to the Sanctified, even more so than the queer tricks of The Ordo Dracul. When rumors of the Forsworn’s powers begin to crop up amongst the flock, Sanctified leaders are often quick to quash them, or so goes the rumors amongst the Brood. Whether the Sanctified truly fear the lure of Investments, or whether there is some conspiracy with The Lancea Sanctum to misrepresent Belial’s Brood, is unknowable. More likely, The Lancea Sanctum has severely limited knowledge of the Brood and slanders the covenant out of ignorance, not insight. In fact, the Brood itself has limited knowledge of The Lancea Sanctum as well, as converts between the covenants are exceedingly rare and are rarely indoctrinated into the greatest mysteries without harrowing tests of loyalty.
Although The Lancea Sanctum enjoys the rhetorical victories it scores against the Brood by denouncing its barbarity, the Brood serves a useful function in the mindset of many Sanctified. The Forsworn are bogeymen and monsters that serve as a useful reminder to those who question Longinus’ call for more “temperate” treatment of mortals. For their part, the Forsworn see The Lancea Sanctum as either a worthy spiritual adversary or a paper tiger. While few factions fear The Lancea Sanctum’s capability to recruit from their ranks, they viscerally understand the fanaticism of The Lancea Sanctum’s true believers. Thankfully, the leadership of the Sanctified is often too conservative to strike out against the Brood in force. Longinus’ adherents would rather point to the shadows than risk their flock to illuminate them. When Sanctified domains do produce a firebrand intent on launching a Crusade against the Brood, only the staunchest coveys remain in a city to witness it. Many Forsworn simply return to their nomadic routes at the first signs of a Lancea Sanctum purge, hoping to return when the fires of the Sanctified have been satiated.
Strangely, vampires of the Pandaemonium have had a number of successful liaisons with Sanctified-controlled domains. The faction’s unadulterated passion for depravity has been allowed to fester by more than one Bishop hoping to coerce her rivals into seeking Sanctified protection. While these partnerships are often informal affairs, a Lancea Sanctum leader overlooks the Brood’s activities or restrains her minions from taking action for a few nights of mayhem. When formal agreements do exist between members of these covenants, the agreements are often secret affairs between individuals unsure of their ability to destroy one another.
The Brood believes it is the strange powers of the Forsworn that most terrify The Lancea Sanctum. The fact that Belial’s Brood displays abilities that turn divinely imposed limitations on their head seems alien to the Sanctified, even more so than the queer tricks of The Ordo Dracul. When rumors of the Forsworn’s powers begin to crop up amongst the flock, Sanctified leaders are often quick to quash them, or so goes the rumors amongst the Brood. Whether the Sanctified truly fear the lure of Investments, or whether there is some conspiracy with The Lancea Sanctum to misrepresent Belial’s Brood, is unknowable. More likely, The Lancea Sanctum has severely limited knowledge of the Brood and slanders the covenant out of ignorance, not insight. In fact, the Brood itself has limited knowledge of The Lancea Sanctum as well, as converts between the covenants are exceedingly rare and are rarely indoctrinated into the greatest mysteries without harrowing tests of loyalty.
Although The Lancea Sanctum enjoys the rhetorical victories it scores against the Brood by denouncing its barbarity, the Brood serves a useful function in the mindset of many Sanctified. The Forsworn are bogeymen and monsters that serve as a useful reminder to those who question Longinus’ call for more “temperate” treatment of mortals. For their part, the Forsworn see The Lancea Sanctum as either a worthy spiritual adversary or a paper tiger. While few factions fear The Lancea Sanctum’s capability to recruit from their ranks, they viscerally understand the fanaticism of The Lancea Sanctum’s true believers. Thankfully, the leadership of the Sanctified is often too conservative to strike out against the Brood in force. Longinus’ adherents would rather point to the shadows than risk their flock to illuminate them. When Sanctified domains do produce a firebrand intent on launching a Crusade against the Brood, only the staunchest coveys remain in a city to witness it. Many Forsworn simply return to their nomadic routes at the first signs of a Lancea Sanctum purge, hoping to return when the fires of the Sanctified have been satiated.
Forsworn–Sanctified Partnerships
Unless one counts the constant use of the Forsworn as scapegoats for the travails of misguided Sanctified, few alliances are formed between Belial’s Brood and The Lancea Sanctum. Coveys that overlay the myths of Belial’s Brood with Abrahamic stories have an easier time dealing with The Lancea Sanctum, but also expose themselves to a greater risk of conversion. These coveys are rare in the modern nights, but typically match up more closely with the Belial’s Brood espoused by the Sanctified. Some among The Lancea Sanctum even have the misguided Perception that the Brood is somehow about the same business as the Sanctified, but suffer from an over-abundance of Zeal. In this strange formulation, the Forsworn are fear-mongers, just as the Sanctified, but have become so committed to God’s work they have sacrificed their own souls. As laughable as this premise may seem, more than one member of the Brood has found a sympathetic ear amongst some of the more militant Sanctified.Strangely, vampires of the Pandaemonium have had a number of successful liaisons with Sanctified-controlled domains. The faction’s unadulterated passion for depravity has been allowed to fester by more than one Bishop hoping to coerce her rivals into seeking Sanctified protection. While these partnerships are often informal affairs, a Lancea Sanctum leader overlooks the Brood’s activities or restrains her minions from taking action for a few nights of mayhem. When formal agreements do exist between members of these covenants, the agreements are often secret affairs between individuals unsure of their ability to destroy one another.