The Mara
In lightless depths were we spawned. In lightless depths do we drink the gift. Come into the deep and enter the ages-old realm of the Mara.
In the lightless murk of the world’s waters, a horrifying line of monstrous Gangrel dwell, silent and predatory. Concealed beneath the icy waves of northern shores or walking in the murky silt of the blood-warm bayou, they wait to drag their living victims down under the surface to feed upon or present as sacrifice in their warped, wordless rituals. No material goods of the walking world tempt them and no fi re threatens them. They are the Mara, the drowned Kindred, the witch-kin of a Goddess both tragic and merciless.
Those few who know the Mara come to understand that they worship a being known as the Sunken Mother, a Tethys-like fi gure who appears, in their litanies, to have birthed the waters of the world by a union with a titanic sun god. They say she loved and cared for all her countless children, laying them upon the earth and showing them how to spawn a multitude of creatures so that they need never dwell empty and alone. Her attention was so devoted, so focused upon them, that her lover burned with violent jealousy. Eventually, unable to accept that the waters could be more important to the mother than he was, he took up her body, searing her fl esh, and fl ung her into the depths where she drowned. Shamed by the part they played in her death and hungry for justice, the waters took the lessons of the Sunken Mother and created the Mara as her Kindred grandchildren so that they might wreak bloody vengeance on the God of the Day and his worshippers.
The true origins of these dark, deeply faithful vampires are diffi cult to discern. It seems that their litany is a mishmash of ancient Greco-Roman, Celtic and Germanic myths, and it’s almost impossible to determine whether those elements precede the more accessible mortal legends or if they’re drawn from them. One wonders: did ancient Saxon tribes witness a Mara’s vicious attack at a lakeshore and name her Nixe, or did early Mara style themselves after these legends, building a sinister myth to justify their activity? Over the centuries, it has become increasingly diffi cult to unravel the reality from the fable. Very few accurate reports of ancient vampiric activity remain in modern nights, and none of those mention the Mara or anything like them at all. Those Kindred who are old enough to know are victims of the fog of long Torpor, suffered several times over in most cases, and can contribute little in the way of illumination. Even the eldest of the Mara themselves are unable to attest to their own origins, having slumbered too long or too frequently to speak with any authority on their fi rst nights.
Although they don’t keep their own history, there is an early record of a meeting between the Mara and a representative of The Lancea Sanctum. Some time during the 11th century, a Sanctifi ed scholar calling himself Brother Erik, who appears to have been charged with surveying the Kindred population of a portion of northern England, wrote a record of his discoveries. Among the entries, a short passage refers to the bloodline. A rough translation follows:
“ . . . in proximity to the fortress of Mamucium, now long past, a market town is formed of no more than 200 souls. The town has lost some folk and many heads of cattle to the shores of a nearby river. They are often found days or weeks later, fl oating there. My investigation of the waters has uncovered a cabal of ungodly Kindred wretches calling themselves ‘Mara,’ damned creatures of extraordinary ugliness and violence. My attempts to bring the missive of Longinus to these horrors met with naught but a most undeserved hostility. With a gnashing of their yellowed fangs, they threatened bloody murder if I remained at the shores of their ‘holy mother,’ and I withdrew.”
Whether or not The Lancea Sanctum chose to act on Brother Erik’s discovery is unknown at this time. The region he refers to in the text would correspond roughly to the modern location of Manchester, and it’s likely the river he mentions is the Irwell (or the Mersey). There are no other references to the Mara in those areas in Kindred records, and whether or not they remain there now is unknown.
Some time during the 16th century, the Kindred of Copenhagen are said to have encountered a family of the Mara in their harbor waters and made peace with them there. These Danish Mara even emerged to attend Elysium on several occasions, engaging in negotiation for territory and presenting gifts of honor to the Prince. Conflict arose between them and the land-based Acolytes of The Circle of the Crone, though, resulting in the Final Death of one of the bloodline. The rest withdrew to the ocean, and relations with the domain were brought to an end. There are scattered reports throughout Northern Europe of further encounters, most ending just as badly. Late in the 19th century, Mara are said to have made appearances in several domains of the American South, prompting speculation that one or more may have arrived with sea-borne trade from across the Atlantic. Limited attempts were made to purge or otherwise discourage the Mara from settling on American shores, but the difficulty in verifying their presence (or lack thereof) led to a great deal of wasted effort.
In most territories around the world, the Mara refrain from making contact with other Kindred wherever possible. The Mara prefer to be left alone, hunting and practicing their worship in peace, away from the prying eyes of outsiders. Suspicious of land-dwelling vampires and taught to believe that all surface creatures are either enemies of the Sunken Mother or have forgotten their loyalties to her, the Mara rarely stray from the waters.
Mara in the modern world are, one imagines, very much as they were in the dark centuries of long ago. They may have more modern abodes (the reservoirs of more than one city are known to have housed them, as are a number of wrecked submarines and ships), but their ritual practice and ascetic existence have remained essentially unchanged. They are as inhuman as ever, and as mysterious.
Those few who know the Mara come to understand that they worship a being known as the Sunken Mother, a Tethys-like fi gure who appears, in their litanies, to have birthed the waters of the world by a union with a titanic sun god. They say she loved and cared for all her countless children, laying them upon the earth and showing them how to spawn a multitude of creatures so that they need never dwell empty and alone. Her attention was so devoted, so focused upon them, that her lover burned with violent jealousy. Eventually, unable to accept that the waters could be more important to the mother than he was, he took up her body, searing her fl esh, and fl ung her into the depths where she drowned. Shamed by the part they played in her death and hungry for justice, the waters took the lessons of the Sunken Mother and created the Mara as her Kindred grandchildren so that they might wreak bloody vengeance on the God of the Day and his worshippers.
The true origins of these dark, deeply faithful vampires are diffi cult to discern. It seems that their litany is a mishmash of ancient Greco-Roman, Celtic and Germanic myths, and it’s almost impossible to determine whether those elements precede the more accessible mortal legends or if they’re drawn from them. One wonders: did ancient Saxon tribes witness a Mara’s vicious attack at a lakeshore and name her Nixe, or did early Mara style themselves after these legends, building a sinister myth to justify their activity? Over the centuries, it has become increasingly diffi cult to unravel the reality from the fable. Very few accurate reports of ancient vampiric activity remain in modern nights, and none of those mention the Mara or anything like them at all. Those Kindred who are old enough to know are victims of the fog of long Torpor, suffered several times over in most cases, and can contribute little in the way of illumination. Even the eldest of the Mara themselves are unable to attest to their own origins, having slumbered too long or too frequently to speak with any authority on their fi rst nights.
Although they don’t keep their own history, there is an early record of a meeting between the Mara and a representative of The Lancea Sanctum. Some time during the 11th century, a Sanctifi ed scholar calling himself Brother Erik, who appears to have been charged with surveying the Kindred population of a portion of northern England, wrote a record of his discoveries. Among the entries, a short passage refers to the bloodline. A rough translation follows:
“ . . . in proximity to the fortress of Mamucium, now long past, a market town is formed of no more than 200 souls. The town has lost some folk and many heads of cattle to the shores of a nearby river. They are often found days or weeks later, fl oating there. My investigation of the waters has uncovered a cabal of ungodly Kindred wretches calling themselves ‘Mara,’ damned creatures of extraordinary ugliness and violence. My attempts to bring the missive of Longinus to these horrors met with naught but a most undeserved hostility. With a gnashing of their yellowed fangs, they threatened bloody murder if I remained at the shores of their ‘holy mother,’ and I withdrew.”
Whether or not The Lancea Sanctum chose to act on Brother Erik’s discovery is unknown at this time. The region he refers to in the text would correspond roughly to the modern location of Manchester, and it’s likely the river he mentions is the Irwell (or the Mersey). There are no other references to the Mara in those areas in Kindred records, and whether or not they remain there now is unknown.
Some time during the 16th century, the Kindred of Copenhagen are said to have encountered a family of the Mara in their harbor waters and made peace with them there. These Danish Mara even emerged to attend Elysium on several occasions, engaging in negotiation for territory and presenting gifts of honor to the Prince. Conflict arose between them and the land-based Acolytes of The Circle of the Crone, though, resulting in the Final Death of one of the bloodline. The rest withdrew to the ocean, and relations with the domain were brought to an end. There are scattered reports throughout Northern Europe of further encounters, most ending just as badly. Late in the 19th century, Mara are said to have made appearances in several domains of the American South, prompting speculation that one or more may have arrived with sea-borne trade from across the Atlantic. Limited attempts were made to purge or otherwise discourage the Mara from settling on American shores, but the difficulty in verifying their presence (or lack thereof) led to a great deal of wasted effort.
In most territories around the world, the Mara refrain from making contact with other Kindred wherever possible. The Mara prefer to be left alone, hunting and practicing their worship in peace, away from the prying eyes of outsiders. Suspicious of land-dwelling vampires and taught to believe that all surface creatures are either enemies of the Sunken Mother or have forgotten their loyalties to her, the Mara rarely stray from the waters.
Mara in the modern world are, one imagines, very much as they were in the dark centuries of long ago. They may have more modern abodes (the reservoirs of more than one city are known to have housed them, as are a number of wrecked submarines and ships), but their ritual practice and ascetic existence have remained essentially unchanged. They are as inhuman as ever, and as mysterious.
Culture
Culture and cultural heritage
Background: The cold, frightening Embrace of the Mara is rarely bestowed upon mortals, and never without careful consideration. Not many of the living are both physically and spiritually hardy enough to survive induction into the deep cult of the Lampreys without going mad. Even the strongest of candidates often barely endure the terrifying, submerged Embrace, and more than a few end up drowned before they can take their sire’s Vitae. Those mortals drawn to water are often watched with interest, and of those, the ones who gravitate to traditional belief and practice (instead of modern religion) are considered ideal candidates. Independence is a valuable asset: a number of survivalists and reclusive artists on solitary retreat have ended up among the ranks of the Mara.
The Mara rarely Embrace wealthy mortals. The Mara find that the resulting neonates are often unable to abandon their previous habits, and cannot properly acclimatize themselves to the ascetic Requiem of the bloodline.
The Mara rarely Embrace wealthy mortals. The Mara find that the resulting neonates are often unable to abandon their previous habits, and cannot properly acclimatize themselves to the ascetic Requiem of the bloodline.
Common Dress code
Appearance: The Mara care little for the fashions of dress and grooming in the surface world. More often than not, they clothe themselves in the ragged, waterlogged remnants of their last living day’s attire — those who don’t go completely nude, that is. Most are caked with the mud or weeds of their Haven, and leave their hair to tangle freely, untouched by comb or shear. Ritual scarring or tattooing during Crúac rites is the only practice of the line that approaches stylish self-expression.
Those who do choose to emerge from the safety of their murky havens in search of Kindred company (or a misguided attempt to mix with the mortal world) may take pains to locate clothing and conceal their wild existence with a quick, cursory scrub. Rarely are these attempts entirely successful,though, and even those few who manage to look the part of a “normal” vampire often carry the scent of their home territory — bog, sea or sewer — unawares.
Those few “civilized” Lampreys who dwell among the Kindred of outsider covenants are usually cared for by mortal servants who take great pains to eliminate evidence of their origins. Before any public appearance, these poor creatures are scoured, perfumed, plucked, styled and wrapped in appropriately fashionable coverings. The process is almost always interminably torturous for all participants, and is generally avoided unless the appearance is absolutely necessary.
Those who do choose to emerge from the safety of their murky havens in search of Kindred company (or a misguided attempt to mix with the mortal world) may take pains to locate clothing and conceal their wild existence with a quick, cursory scrub. Rarely are these attempts entirely successful,though, and even those few who manage to look the part of a “normal” vampire often carry the scent of their home territory — bog, sea or sewer — unawares.
Those few “civilized” Lampreys who dwell among the Kindred of outsider covenants are usually cared for by mortal servants who take great pains to eliminate evidence of their origins. Before any public appearance, these poor creatures are scoured, perfumed, plucked, styled and wrapped in appropriately fashionable coverings. The process is almost always interminably torturous for all participants, and is generally avoided unless the appearance is absolutely necessary.
Art & Architecture
Haven: Because of their weakness, all of the Mara dwell in or near a body of water that is large enough to cover them completely. Beyond that basic need, the actual details and features of the Haven are chosen in accordance with the individual tastes of the vampire, and can vary from the filth and horror of a toxic industrial well to thesublime beauty of a coral-sculpted ocean hollow. Many make use of the Haven of Soil (Protean ••) to merge with the waters of their homes during slumber and choose havens that they feel best reflect their souls’ truth.
Whatever the superficial details of her home, a Lamprey will take pains to become intimately familiar with its features. She will feed on the fauna, just to learn the taste of its Vitae (even if she is too potent to sustain herself upon it she will wrap herself in its flora and dig her body down into the silt that lies at its bottom. She will run her fingers over every surface, every pit and growth, identifying it with her own body and working to extend her perceptions to its natural ebb and flow. This is an important ritual for the Mara, and serves a double purpose: it helps the vampire accept her new home as a place of comfort and it gives her a sense of the normal state of the surroundings, the better to alert her if something is amiss.
It is common for the Mara to band together and share a large Haven. Some of the lakes, shores and swamps of the world are claimed by Circles of the bloodline, rumored to number five or six members in some cases (and even as many as a dozen Acolytes in one particularly horrifying, oft-told tale among the Kindred of the Louisiana Bayou). These vampires will completely Dominate a body of water, ruling it as a domain of their own. Difficulties in maintaining the Masquerade can arise when a single Haven is too populous, but no more so than in any surface territory.
Whatever the superficial details of her home, a Lamprey will take pains to become intimately familiar with its features. She will feed on the fauna, just to learn the taste of its Vitae (even if she is too potent to sustain herself upon it she will wrap herself in its flora and dig her body down into the silt that lies at its bottom. She will run her fingers over every surface, every pit and growth, identifying it with her own body and working to extend her perceptions to its natural ebb and flow. This is an important ritual for the Mara, and serves a double purpose: it helps the vampire accept her new home as a place of comfort and it gives her a sense of the normal state of the surroundings, the better to alert her if something is amiss.
It is common for the Mara to band together and share a large Haven. Some of the lakes, shores and swamps of the world are claimed by Circles of the bloodline, rumored to number five or six members in some cases (and even as many as a dozen Acolytes in one particularly horrifying, oft-told tale among the Kindred of the Louisiana Bayou). These vampires will completely Dominate a body of water, ruling it as a domain of their own. Difficulties in maintaining the Masquerade can arise when a single Haven is too populous, but no more so than in any surface territory.
Common Customs, traditions and rituals
Crúac: The practice of Crúac among the Mara is distinct and extremely focused on the bloody loss of their Sunken Mother, as well as the recurring themes of drowning, rising from the deep and war with the sun god. All rituals are performed in or under a quantity of water, and the peculiar humming dialect of the line is integral in invocations.
There is little in the Kindred world as alien to human experience as the practice of the Mara. Witnesses to their eerie, slow dances and the mingling of their tangled hair or bone-pale flesh with waterborne blood is enough for most to assume the Mara are, and can only be, thoroughly monstrous beings.
There is little in the Kindred world as alien to human experience as the practice of the Mara. Witnesses to their eerie, slow dances and the mingling of their tangled hair or bone-pale flesh with waterborne blood is enough for most to assume the Mara are, and can only be, thoroughly monstrous beings.
Major organizations
Covenant: The overwhelming majority of the Mara are Acolytes of The Circle of the Crone. Their malicious ritual practices and severe austerity are alienating influences, forcing a powerful divide between their members and the more moderate, politically active Kindred of other covenants. A lack of understanding often prevents peaceful interaction on both sides: the Lampreys rarely reconcile themselves with the mannerly posture of Kindred culture and outsider vampires often can’t see past the mud-and-blood accoutrements of the bloodline.
There are a few Mara who have been “civilized” by outsider Kindred. Inducted into a covenant by some enthusiastic outsider, these Mara are often paraded around Elysium as an example of the edifying qualities of their new membership. Most chafe against the constant attention and enthused expectations that accompany these “uplifting” conversions though, and eventually return to the chill embrace of dark waters, even if they no longer wish to participate in the rituals of The Circle of the Crone.
The rare Lampreys who find satisfaction outside the Circle are almost always numbered among the scholars of The Ordo Dracul. Acting against type, these Mara seekan intellectual road to enlightenment and discover their true path in The Coils of the Dragon. These Kindred are often more surprised with their choice than anyone else, and will take pains to conceal their true lineage.
Organization: Circles of the Mara are usually relatively small, and so their function is much more informal than most. The eldest of the group defaults to the position of Hierophant (and is often the sire or grandsire of the rest of the Acolytes) and leads the others in rituals, in group hunts and in any dealings with outsider Kindred. If the Circle dwells in a group Haven, the location will be the Hierophant’s choice. If not, the others come to her home at least twice a week to conduct their rites and receive her wisdom. Keeping frequent (or constant) company not only helps to cement the ties of loyalty in the line but also makes it easier to keep an eye on those members who are suffering from the temptations of the surface world.
Over the centuries, Mara Acolytes have developed a complex Language of hums and clicks that they often use to communicate under the surface. One of the first things each member of the line learns is how to understand and speak as his fellow Mara do, so as to enable participation in the holy rites of the line. All of the Crúac rituals of the Mara are performed in this Language, and the entirety of their litany (which is exclusively oral — there are no written records) is likewise encoded.
While the worship by the Lampreys is isolationist and xenophobic in group practice, individual Mara without the support of close relations (whether by accident or design) are known to emerge from the deep on occasion and join up with a surface Circle. Their dripping, sullen presence may be a source of discomfort for more urban, modern Acolytes, but the Mara are no less devoted or talented in their veneration. Some Kindred are frankly fascinated by the mythology of the Mara and eager to hear translations of their litany, slow and difficult as they may be, and many of the line are more tolerant of outside interpretations when separated from their inward-looking under-dwelling Circles.
Each Mara cult prepares a central ritual space for their prayers and rites. The space is usually deep in dark waters, the better to hide it from the prying gaze of the surface world, but really only needs to be submerged enough to allow the Lampreys freedom to move and feed within it. An Altar of stone or metal generally marks the center of the space and may be surrounded with decorations as elaborate or sparse as the Acolytes prefer, but these additions are often camouflaged so as to seem random. Many of the Mara choose ritual spaces that are naturally formed, if possible, so as to avoid Suspicion in the event of accidental discovery.
Each week, the Mara gather twice to venerate the Sunken Mother and her progeny. On the first evening in the week (as determined by local practice — in some places it’s Sunday night, in others it’s Monday), they come together and sing a dirge-like humming prayer, commemorating the birth of the waters, the murder of their Goddess and the spawning of their line from the aftermath. In midweek, normally three nights after the previous ritual, they return to the ritual site and perform an eerie, silent rite meant to reassure the waters and reiterate their intent to commemorate the Sunken Mother. A carefully prepared, live surface creature is cut open and allowed to bleed out below the waters. A slow, undulating dance in the cloud of dissipating blood follows, and the Mara take it in whenever it crosses their path. The rest is left for the waters to carry away. After the dance is complete, the Lampreys are free to discuss the needs of the Circle and perform any Crúac rituals appropriate for the week.
In addition to the weekly rites, there are two annual holidays celebrated by the Mara. The first commemorates the occasion of the spring thaw, and accompanies the cracking of the ice in the temperate zones of the world (or is symbolically marked in March in the Northern Hemisphere, October in the South). It is a jubilant, energetic affair, celebrating the release of the waters and the relative ease with which the Mara may feed. Kindred in Torpor are often ceremonially awakened on the first night of the thaw.
The second is a more solemn rite, marking the winter freeze. Once again, in temperate climes, the date is varied and depends on the actual physical formation of ice over the ritual space. In warmer zones, where the water never freezes, a ceremony is still held — in December in the North and May in the South. In all cases, this holiday is a somber, funereal affair as the Mara acknowledge the yearly binding of their holy mothers and the relatively difficult feeding season they now face. Some Mara choose to enter Torpor for the winter voluntarily, and will be placed to rest in the ritual space on this night.
There are a few Mara who have been “civilized” by outsider Kindred. Inducted into a covenant by some enthusiastic outsider, these Mara are often paraded around Elysium as an example of the edifying qualities of their new membership. Most chafe against the constant attention and enthused expectations that accompany these “uplifting” conversions though, and eventually return to the chill embrace of dark waters, even if they no longer wish to participate in the rituals of The Circle of the Crone.
The rare Lampreys who find satisfaction outside the Circle are almost always numbered among the scholars of The Ordo Dracul. Acting against type, these Mara seekan intellectual road to enlightenment and discover their true path in The Coils of the Dragon. These Kindred are often more surprised with their choice than anyone else, and will take pains to conceal their true lineage.
Organization: Circles of the Mara are usually relatively small, and so their function is much more informal than most. The eldest of the group defaults to the position of Hierophant (and is often the sire or grandsire of the rest of the Acolytes) and leads the others in rituals, in group hunts and in any dealings with outsider Kindred. If the Circle dwells in a group Haven, the location will be the Hierophant’s choice. If not, the others come to her home at least twice a week to conduct their rites and receive her wisdom. Keeping frequent (or constant) company not only helps to cement the ties of loyalty in the line but also makes it easier to keep an eye on those members who are suffering from the temptations of the surface world.
Over the centuries, Mara Acolytes have developed a complex Language of hums and clicks that they often use to communicate under the surface. One of the first things each member of the line learns is how to understand and speak as his fellow Mara do, so as to enable participation in the holy rites of the line. All of the Crúac rituals of the Mara are performed in this Language, and the entirety of their litany (which is exclusively oral — there are no written records) is likewise encoded.
While the worship by the Lampreys is isolationist and xenophobic in group practice, individual Mara without the support of close relations (whether by accident or design) are known to emerge from the deep on occasion and join up with a surface Circle. Their dripping, sullen presence may be a source of discomfort for more urban, modern Acolytes, but the Mara are no less devoted or talented in their veneration. Some Kindred are frankly fascinated by the mythology of the Mara and eager to hear translations of their litany, slow and difficult as they may be, and many of the line are more tolerant of outside interpretations when separated from their inward-looking under-dwelling Circles.
Each Mara cult prepares a central ritual space for their prayers and rites. The space is usually deep in dark waters, the better to hide it from the prying gaze of the surface world, but really only needs to be submerged enough to allow the Lampreys freedom to move and feed within it. An Altar of stone or metal generally marks the center of the space and may be surrounded with decorations as elaborate or sparse as the Acolytes prefer, but these additions are often camouflaged so as to seem random. Many of the Mara choose ritual spaces that are naturally formed, if possible, so as to avoid Suspicion in the event of accidental discovery.
Each week, the Mara gather twice to venerate the Sunken Mother and her progeny. On the first evening in the week (as determined by local practice — in some places it’s Sunday night, in others it’s Monday), they come together and sing a dirge-like humming prayer, commemorating the birth of the waters, the murder of their Goddess and the spawning of their line from the aftermath. In midweek, normally three nights after the previous ritual, they return to the ritual site and perform an eerie, silent rite meant to reassure the waters and reiterate their intent to commemorate the Sunken Mother. A carefully prepared, live surface creature is cut open and allowed to bleed out below the waters. A slow, undulating dance in the cloud of dissipating blood follows, and the Mara take it in whenever it crosses their path. The rest is left for the waters to carry away. After the dance is complete, the Lampreys are free to discuss the needs of the Circle and perform any Crúac rituals appropriate for the week.
In addition to the weekly rites, there are two annual holidays celebrated by the Mara. The first commemorates the occasion of the spring thaw, and accompanies the cracking of the ice in the temperate zones of the world (or is symbolically marked in March in the Northern Hemisphere, October in the South). It is a jubilant, energetic affair, celebrating the release of the waters and the relative ease with which the Mara may feed. Kindred in Torpor are often ceremonially awakened on the first night of the thaw.
The second is a more solemn rite, marking the winter freeze. Once again, in temperate climes, the date is varied and depends on the actual physical formation of ice over the ritual space. In warmer zones, where the water never freezes, a ceremony is still held — in December in the North and May in the South. In all cases, this holiday is a somber, funereal affair as the Mara acknowledge the yearly binding of their holy mothers and the relatively difficult feeding season they now face. Some Mara choose to enter Torpor for the winter voluntarily, and will be placed to rest in the ritual space on this night.
Nickname: Lampreys
Character Creation: Physical Attributes are of primary importance in satisfying the survival needs of the Mara, especially because of the rigorous demands of their feeding practices. Those who cannot rely upon their speed and strength alone to locate and retrieve sources of Vitae rarely last long enough to devote the necessary attention to the spiritual pursuits of the Circle. Attendant Physical Skills, most especially Athletics, Brawl and Survival, are logical priorities as well. While material Merits are much rarer than Physical or Social ones, nearly every Lamprey has a sizable, naturally secure Haven.
Bloodline Disciplines: Animalism, Obfuscate, Protean, Resilience
Weakness: The Mara are victims of a singularly peculiar curse. If they are not completely submerged head to toe in liquid water while feeding, they gain no sustenance from blood. In fact, the blood drained in a “dry feeding” is mystically transformed to water in the vampire’s gullet, and is vomited back up immediately. Since there is no way to prevent this transformation, members of the bloodline must be very careful to avoid hunger frenzy when they are not in a body of water. Even in frenzy, they will instinctively carry their victims to the nearest visible pond, lake or swimming pool — whatever qualifies — but they’ll do so with the Beast’s attendant lack of attention to discretion or territorial concern, and that can lead to catastrophe.
Only the vampire need be submerged to feed successfully. Part of the victim may be above the surface (though many less humane Lampreys prefer to drag their prey completely underwater just to prevent interruption while draining Vitae or to facilitate disposal of the bloodless body afterwards).
If one of the Mara wishes to appear to have fed successfully above the surface without vomiting immediately, he may spend a point of Vitae to hold the water in his stomach for a scene, as with ordinary food and drink.
Concepts: Chattering mud witch, creature in the well, deepwater spiritual visionary, dockworker’s bane, heartbroken mermaid, Invictus Liza Doolittle, reservoir monster, vengefully Embraced real estate agent, whispering strangler, wild-eyed swamp cultist
Parent ethnicities
Bloodline Disciplines: Animalism, Obfuscate, Protean, Resilience
Weakness: The Mara are victims of a singularly peculiar curse. If they are not completely submerged head to toe in liquid water while feeding, they gain no sustenance from blood. In fact, the blood drained in a “dry feeding” is mystically transformed to water in the vampire’s gullet, and is vomited back up immediately. Since there is no way to prevent this transformation, members of the bloodline must be very careful to avoid hunger frenzy when they are not in a body of water. Even in frenzy, they will instinctively carry their victims to the nearest visible pond, lake or swimming pool — whatever qualifies — but they’ll do so with the Beast’s attendant lack of attention to discretion or territorial concern, and that can lead to catastrophe.
Only the vampire need be submerged to feed successfully. Part of the victim may be above the surface (though many less humane Lampreys prefer to drag their prey completely underwater just to prevent interruption while draining Vitae or to facilitate disposal of the bloodless body afterwards).
If one of the Mara wishes to appear to have fed successfully above the surface without vomiting immediately, he may spend a point of Vitae to hold the water in his stomach for a scene, as with ordinary food and drink.
Concepts: Chattering mud witch, creature in the well, deepwater spiritual visionary, dockworker’s bane, heartbroken mermaid, Invictus Liza Doolittle, reservoir monster, vengefully Embraced real estate agent, whispering strangler, wild-eyed swamp cultist