The Sworn of the Locust
Yes, it is bliss to kill a soul. Why should we feel guilt to take this pleasure once, or twice, or as often as we like? Does not the god you once ignorantly adored consume thousands or more every night and day?
At their inception, the Oath of the Locust had little more sophistication than the modern thugs of Belial’s Brood — with the added flaw of a leader whose madness grew year by year and, eventually, night by night. The Locusts survived as a secret organization within The Ordo Dracul, mainly on the basis of Mara’s authority, lineage and force of personality. Her demise sent them into slow decay, which was only arrested by another forceful personality — one who took the Locusts in an entirely new and ultimately more successful direction.
That new leader was Ione Kepke, a member of the Romanian intelligentsia Embraced for his ties to a now longforgotten, insurrectionist underground. While he never sparked a political revolution while alive, he can be credited with a philosophical revolution after his death.
Kepke was an atheist and stubbornly remained one in his Requiem. When he became aware of the local Locust clique, he demanded admission on threat of revealing them and then, by dint of sheer logical debate, persuaded them that either God did not exist or that, if He did exist, He was irrelevant to life on Earth and to the Kindred in particular. The goal of the Locusts, then, was no longer to rail against a foe that was either omnipotent or non-existent. Their goal was to escape the snares and toils of the Kindred condition by any means necessary. Instead of acting in deliberate opposition to the morality of the Church and mortals, they would become amoral and perform any action — good, evil or indifferent — that would exalt them personally and improve their individual state.
Kepke had his Romanian colleagues in thrall. With their support, he became Mystery-Sworn and, eventually, a local Guardian. He could have wound up as Kogaion, had not the local Invictus allied with The Circle of the Crone to smash the power of The Ordo Dracul and exile its members. To this day, Ione Kepke’s home city lies under orders to stake and exterminate any who espouse Dragon philosophy — which, in the locals’ understanding, means something much more like Kepke’s philosophy than the mainstream Ordo tenets.
The exile that seemed Ione’s downfall was, in fact, the salvation of the Oath of the Locust. Spreading out as Dragon refugees, his followers made Contacts with oldstyle Locusts in other cities. Sometimes they were rebuffed, and sometimes they reinvigorated the organization — just as Ione had originally revitalized his Locust band. But it was one of Kepke’s followers, who fled as far as Italy, and provided the Locusts with what they’d need for the next phase of their growth.
That follower (whose name comes to the present night only as L’anguilla or ‘the Eel’) administered the Oath of the Locust to a previously unsworn and unimpressive neonate named Lucina Caracciola. Lucina went on to create the Way of the Locust, a set of esoteric processes whose results indicated that the Locusts were in fact succeeding at getting beyond the typical limitations of the Kindred — and that the key to freedom lay not in the pursuit of Humanity, but in its theft.
With the Way as an inducement, the Locusts could recruit more selectively, and bring higher quality Dragons into their orbit. Ione Kepke’s philosophy that God did not matter made the Locusts appealing to a small circle of European thinkers. Lucina Caracciola’s occult powers made it appealing world-wide.
That new leader was Ione Kepke, a member of the Romanian intelligentsia Embraced for his ties to a now longforgotten, insurrectionist underground. While he never sparked a political revolution while alive, he can be credited with a philosophical revolution after his death.
Kepke was an atheist and stubbornly remained one in his Requiem. When he became aware of the local Locust clique, he demanded admission on threat of revealing them and then, by dint of sheer logical debate, persuaded them that either God did not exist or that, if He did exist, He was irrelevant to life on Earth and to the Kindred in particular. The goal of the Locusts, then, was no longer to rail against a foe that was either omnipotent or non-existent. Their goal was to escape the snares and toils of the Kindred condition by any means necessary. Instead of acting in deliberate opposition to the morality of the Church and mortals, they would become amoral and perform any action — good, evil or indifferent — that would exalt them personally and improve their individual state.
Kepke had his Romanian colleagues in thrall. With their support, he became Mystery-Sworn and, eventually, a local Guardian. He could have wound up as Kogaion, had not the local Invictus allied with The Circle of the Crone to smash the power of The Ordo Dracul and exile its members. To this day, Ione Kepke’s home city lies under orders to stake and exterminate any who espouse Dragon philosophy — which, in the locals’ understanding, means something much more like Kepke’s philosophy than the mainstream Ordo tenets.
The exile that seemed Ione’s downfall was, in fact, the salvation of the Oath of the Locust. Spreading out as Dragon refugees, his followers made Contacts with oldstyle Locusts in other cities. Sometimes they were rebuffed, and sometimes they reinvigorated the organization — just as Ione had originally revitalized his Locust band. But it was one of Kepke’s followers, who fled as far as Italy, and provided the Locusts with what they’d need for the next phase of their growth.
That follower (whose name comes to the present night only as L’anguilla or ‘the Eel’) administered the Oath of the Locust to a previously unsworn and unimpressive neonate named Lucina Caracciola. Lucina went on to create the Way of the Locust, a set of esoteric processes whose results indicated that the Locusts were in fact succeeding at getting beyond the typical limitations of the Kindred — and that the key to freedom lay not in the pursuit of Humanity, but in its theft.
With the Way as an inducement, the Locusts could recruit more selectively, and bring higher quality Dragons into their orbit. Ione Kepke’s philosophy that God did not matter made the Locusts appealing to a small circle of European thinkers. Lucina Caracciola’s occult powers made it appealing world-wide.
Structure
Position Within the Covenant: The Oath of the Locust is secret, administered in secret and kept secret under pain of Final Death. (Given the proclivities of the Locusts, it’s often under pain of Amaranth.)
They’re secret for good reason: The other Oathbound consider it treachery to take any pledge that claims precedence over Dracula’s three Dragon-Tongue oaths.
Were it not for that provision, however, the Locust oath, as written, might actually be tolerated within The Ordo Dracul. After all, the Dragons’ central goals are hardly incompatible with the Order’s tenets: escape from Kindred limitations and exultation of the self are exactly what draws many to the Order in the first place.
It’s not like the Locusts are tampering with the smooth running of the Order, either. Sure, they look out for one another the way Freemasons and members of Skull and Bones do, but, between coterie ties and clan ties and the bonds of teacher and student, the Order isn’t exactly free of loyalty conflicts. If anything, joining the Locusts makes an individual less likely to gum up the works. The Locusts tend to pursue their own (admittedly forbidden) esoterica at the expense of political finagling and the pursuit of blackmail material on their Covenant fellows.
The trouble is not with what the Locusts are (that is, rational egotists) or with the larger goals of the organization (facilitating the personal goals of its members). The biggest problem is with what they do. While The Ordo Dracul isn’t as obsessively disgusted with Diablerie as (say) The Lancea Sanctum, that doesn’t mean it’s acceptable or that the Order is comfortable around Kindred who think it’s the golden road to unlimited freedom.
It varies from domain to domain, but most regional Parliaments of the Mystery-Sworn have, unfortunately, had to legislate about Diablerie. Most chapters of the Order have some punishment on the books for the crime of Amaranth. Punishments range from blood-bonds to Final Death to the ironic punishment of the diablerist being diablerized.
Many Academies make exceptions that permit the Diablerie of soul-sellers, as proscribed in Rites of the Dragon, but the revulsion most Kindred feel for the crime is so great that a few Academies have actually overturned the Rites and declared that Diablerie is never permissible. The pull of the Third Tradition is just that strong.
Into this climate come the Locust Knights, who not only violate the Third Tradition, but who have put great effort into finding new ways to violate it. That’s why they’re so secretive.
Organization: There are no formal ranks among the Locust Knights. Theoretically, they’re all equal. In practice, the Order’s knee-jerk habit of deference to the more educated is tough to break. Even among those who dive headfirst into the Locust idea that all individuals are equal (with the self more equal than others) wind up making concessions to those Locusts who know the Way and can teach it.
It takes three Locusts in agreement to induct a new member. The exception is when a city has fewer than three Locusts, in which case any Locust can administer the Oath to any member of The Ordo Dracul. (There are rumors about Locusts who start sharing with Acolytes or even Carthians, but such open-ness is exceptionally rare and frowned upon by the Order. Often, it’s lethally punished.)
Unlike most conspiracies, the Locusts have no passwords, codes, catchphrases, secret handshakes or other means by which they can find or identify each other. When dealing with Kindred who can compel truthfulness, read minds or move unseen, even those techniques are insufficient to protect a secret. The only sure way to be sure another Kindred is a fellow Locust is to quiz her about the specifics of the Way. If she uses vocabulary specialized to that highly esoteric field of study — phrases like “the bliss of tandem enlacement” or “Climbing the tower of the ineffable core” are a good indication, but not conclusive when taken out of context — it’s a good chance she’s taken the Oath. But, of course, even inquiring about the Way of the Locust can reveal an unhealthy interest in the forbidden Oath — or run the risk of providing clues to the uninitiated.
They’re secret for good reason: The other Oathbound consider it treachery to take any pledge that claims precedence over Dracula’s three Dragon-Tongue oaths.
Were it not for that provision, however, the Locust oath, as written, might actually be tolerated within The Ordo Dracul. After all, the Dragons’ central goals are hardly incompatible with the Order’s tenets: escape from Kindred limitations and exultation of the self are exactly what draws many to the Order in the first place.
It’s not like the Locusts are tampering with the smooth running of the Order, either. Sure, they look out for one another the way Freemasons and members of Skull and Bones do, but, between coterie ties and clan ties and the bonds of teacher and student, the Order isn’t exactly free of loyalty conflicts. If anything, joining the Locusts makes an individual less likely to gum up the works. The Locusts tend to pursue their own (admittedly forbidden) esoterica at the expense of political finagling and the pursuit of blackmail material on their Covenant fellows.
The trouble is not with what the Locusts are (that is, rational egotists) or with the larger goals of the organization (facilitating the personal goals of its members). The biggest problem is with what they do. While The Ordo Dracul isn’t as obsessively disgusted with Diablerie as (say) The Lancea Sanctum, that doesn’t mean it’s acceptable or that the Order is comfortable around Kindred who think it’s the golden road to unlimited freedom.
It varies from domain to domain, but most regional Parliaments of the Mystery-Sworn have, unfortunately, had to legislate about Diablerie. Most chapters of the Order have some punishment on the books for the crime of Amaranth. Punishments range from blood-bonds to Final Death to the ironic punishment of the diablerist being diablerized.
Many Academies make exceptions that permit the Diablerie of soul-sellers, as proscribed in Rites of the Dragon, but the revulsion most Kindred feel for the crime is so great that a few Academies have actually overturned the Rites and declared that Diablerie is never permissible. The pull of the Third Tradition is just that strong.
Into this climate come the Locust Knights, who not only violate the Third Tradition, but who have put great effort into finding new ways to violate it. That’s why they’re so secretive.
Organization: There are no formal ranks among the Locust Knights. Theoretically, they’re all equal. In practice, the Order’s knee-jerk habit of deference to the more educated is tough to break. Even among those who dive headfirst into the Locust idea that all individuals are equal (with the self more equal than others) wind up making concessions to those Locusts who know the Way and can teach it.
It takes three Locusts in agreement to induct a new member. The exception is when a city has fewer than three Locusts, in which case any Locust can administer the Oath to any member of The Ordo Dracul. (There are rumors about Locusts who start sharing with Acolytes or even Carthians, but such open-ness is exceptionally rare and frowned upon by the Order. Often, it’s lethally punished.)
Unlike most conspiracies, the Locusts have no passwords, codes, catchphrases, secret handshakes or other means by which they can find or identify each other. When dealing with Kindred who can compel truthfulness, read minds or move unseen, even those techniques are insufficient to protect a secret. The only sure way to be sure another Kindred is a fellow Locust is to quiz her about the specifics of the Way. If she uses vocabulary specialized to that highly esoteric field of study — phrases like “the bliss of tandem enlacement” or “Climbing the tower of the ineffable core” are a good indication, but not conclusive when taken out of context — it’s a good chance she’s taken the Oath. But, of course, even inquiring about the Way of the Locust can reveal an unhealthy interest in the forbidden Oath — or run the risk of providing clues to the uninitiated.
Culture
Appearance: While the Locusts recruit from a wide variety of Ordo Dracul members, they generally make selections based on power, prominence and ruthlessness. This means that Locusts rarely look shabby or downtrodden (unless they want to). It also means that when they’re not putting on a show of Humanity, they are often among the most alienating Kindred in the Order.
Assets
Haven: The Locust-Sworn are a society, hidden from their fellow Kindred inside The Ordo Dracul, which is hidden from Humanity at large. Being double-dosed with secrets, the havens of the Locust-Sworn tend to be extremely well guarded. If it’s not an actual Wyrm’s Nest (and the Locusts love to recruit Guardians if there’s a chance of extra security), it may be a virtual urban fortress guarded by a combination of high-tech and geomantic defenses. It could be a secret building inside an area so polluted that few mortals would dare go inside. Alternately, it could be a place of tremendous secrecy, perhaps the bolt-hole where the Locust conducts her experiments separate and distant from her more typical Haven of repose.
History
The roots of the Locust-Sworn lie with Dracula’s first Kindred Companion, his offspring Mara. Consumed by hatred for Humanity even before her transformation, as a vampire she was truly a monster. Mercy and kindness were not merely matters of indifference to her; she had an actual repugnance for anything that might be deemed moral, just or righteous.
During her Requiem, she acquired a number of likeminded followers whose essential philosophy was that they could best transcend God’s curse by spiting Him through unrepentant malice. Unlike Anoushka, who hoped for forgiveness through right action, Mara and her coterie felt that forgiveness was beyond their reach and, in any event, a worthless goal. The removal of physical impediments was desirable, but some intangible blessing from the Lord? Mara found even the idea of such a thing insulting.
Background: The Locust-Sworn are very careful about recruiting. Individuals whom an outsider would peg as obvious candidates for an evil conspiracy are actually unattractive to the Locusts. They don’t want a badass with no self-control, and they don’t want a puling brawler who rails against morality as if she’s secretly hoping it will punch her down and prove it exists. They are looking for Kindred who are actively amoral — those who have transcended typical philosophies of right and wrong, not those who embrace ‘wrong’ to avenge themselves on some distant creator-God.
Rather than a hot, angry flame, they seek those whose souls are cold, detached and dead. That said, there are a number of converts from the Oath of the Axe, simply because they’re the element of the Order most likely to commit Diablerie (in the heat of battle, presumably). That Addiction is a cause for concern, but the Locusts also believe that there is nothing like Amaranth to viscerally teach the Kindred that there is no inherent value in the soul and that it is ultimately a consumable commodity just like blood, money or anything else. When that sense of the inherent worth of each individual human falls away, the Locusts feel a candidate is ready to be shown something greater than morality, something greater than being a monster cursed by God — something greater even than goodness.
This same detachment often emerges among the Sworn of the Dying Light, where constant gazing into the twisted realms of occult thought can do much to snap a mind’s connection to instinctive repugnance for evil deeds (or, in the case of the Kindred, instinctive attraction) just as it nullifies the desire to be kind or gentle or even right.
The Sworn of the Mysteries are the most resistant to the Oath of the Locust, often because the glad-handing and favor-swapping involved in getting that oath requires engagement, drive and desire. Those things are at odds with the distance, detachment and self-absorption required to advance along the Locust path. There are some Mystery-Sworn who have made the pledge, but, by and large, they were ones who got into the Mysteries through hypocrisy, betrayal and deceit in the first place.
Many in the Locust organization who follow The Paths of Fate make a point of seeking out those with the Devil as their Fate Card. They find that such individuals often make excellent Locust Knights.
During her Requiem, she acquired a number of likeminded followers whose essential philosophy was that they could best transcend God’s curse by spiting Him through unrepentant malice. Unlike Anoushka, who hoped for forgiveness through right action, Mara and her coterie felt that forgiveness was beyond their reach and, in any event, a worthless goal. The removal of physical impediments was desirable, but some intangible blessing from the Lord? Mara found even the idea of such a thing insulting.
Background: The Locust-Sworn are very careful about recruiting. Individuals whom an outsider would peg as obvious candidates for an evil conspiracy are actually unattractive to the Locusts. They don’t want a badass with no self-control, and they don’t want a puling brawler who rails against morality as if she’s secretly hoping it will punch her down and prove it exists. They are looking for Kindred who are actively amoral — those who have transcended typical philosophies of right and wrong, not those who embrace ‘wrong’ to avenge themselves on some distant creator-God.
Rather than a hot, angry flame, they seek those whose souls are cold, detached and dead. That said, there are a number of converts from the Oath of the Axe, simply because they’re the element of the Order most likely to commit Diablerie (in the heat of battle, presumably). That Addiction is a cause for concern, but the Locusts also believe that there is nothing like Amaranth to viscerally teach the Kindred that there is no inherent value in the soul and that it is ultimately a consumable commodity just like blood, money or anything else. When that sense of the inherent worth of each individual human falls away, the Locusts feel a candidate is ready to be shown something greater than morality, something greater than being a monster cursed by God — something greater even than goodness.
This same detachment often emerges among the Sworn of the Dying Light, where constant gazing into the twisted realms of occult thought can do much to snap a mind’s connection to instinctive repugnance for evil deeds (or, in the case of the Kindred, instinctive attraction) just as it nullifies the desire to be kind or gentle or even right.
The Sworn of the Mysteries are the most resistant to the Oath of the Locust, often because the glad-handing and favor-swapping involved in getting that oath requires engagement, drive and desire. Those things are at odds with the distance, detachment and self-absorption required to advance along the Locust path. There are some Mystery-Sworn who have made the pledge, but, by and large, they were ones who got into the Mysteries through hypocrisy, betrayal and deceit in the first place.
Many in the Locust organization who follow The Paths of Fate make a point of seeking out those with the Devil as their Fate Card. They find that such individuals often make excellent Locust Knights.
Type
Political, Faction / Party
Alternative Names
Locusts
Ruling Organization
Parent Organization
The Locust Oath
I pledge to set aside all previous loyalties and oaths should they conflict with my loyalty to my Locust brethren, our secrets and our ways. I further pledge to set aside those previous bonds when they defy my true will, my ambitions and the perfection of self as I define it.I pledge to blanch at no deed of darkness, nor sneer at any gift of aid or courage, so long as they are the actions of an individual’s sole judgment, and not craven submissions to a higher power either present or implicit.
I swear to seek myself and to set my needs and goals above all others, with the aid and full support of my fellow Knights of the Locust. I swear to aid them, my brethren, in any and all ways concurrent with my personal quest.
I make this oath, not before some farcical notion of divinity, not upon a personal “honor,” which is in truth only a personal shackle defined by society. Instead, I swear on the only thing truly mine, truly inviolate, truly sacred above all else. I swear upon myself.