Unlife in the Ordo Dracul
The will to overcome an effect is ultimately only the will of another, or of several other, effects. — Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil
The Ordo Dracul is perhaps the most difficult of the covenants for players to understand, because its main concerns are entirely vampiric. The other covenants focus on religious faith, temporal power or political ideology — all concepts that players can identify with and understand in abstract terms, at least, if not in the specific ways that their characters see them. But The Ordo Dracul formed because of one vampire’s desire to move beyond his unliving state, not for redemption or revenge, but because he believed it was his right to do so. Understanding the members of The Ordo Dracul, therefore, can take a bit of work.
This kind of reasoning tends to lead to maudlin poetry if allowed to continue, and Dragon mentors are quite willing to step in and correct a pupil before she reaches this stage.
Different mentors have different ways of hammering this point home. Some take their charges to Elysium and ask them to record how a given vampire changes over the course of the night. Does her clothing appear rumpled when she leaves? Is her skin tone the same? The Mentor cautions the Dragon against making assumptions. If the subject ventures into a private room with a mortal associate for a time and emerges looking disheveled, that could mean that the two of them were indulging in sex behind closed doors. But what other possibilities exist, and what evidence exists to support them? Does the mortal look pale and disoriented, or is he flushed and warm? Did others in the room begin whispering or react when they left, or appear to be listening? What was happening while the two of them were away?
Some mentors encourage their charges to shun Kindred society altogether, and join the nightlife of mortal society instead. After all, vampires are creatures of routine and stagnation, meaning their changes are so slow and subtle that they make for poor beginner’s lessons. Mortals can change so quickly as to be unrecognizable from one night to the next, and so make for easier study subjects than Kindred. A Dragon might take her student(s) to a nightclub, an opera, a party (of any social stratum) or a church service and instruct them to note changes in behavior, appearance and bearing of a few select people during the course of the night. She instructs her pupils to keep themselves unobtrusive, but if they are noticed, to take special note of changes they elicit in their subjects. She also instructs them to note not only what changes take place but also any obvious causes for those changes.
If a man who has been the life of the party suddenly grows withdrawn and sullen, there must be a reason. Often, it’s as simple as having too much to drink or having his advances rejected by a woman, but sometimes a more sinister cause is at work. Did he fall prey to another vampire while no one was looking? Is he suddenly ill, perhaps from the food (meaning that other patrons will soon feel the effects as well)? The point here is that even the most minute changes might signal events that the Dragon would do well to acknowledge. Some Dragons scoff at the wisdom of watching mortals, saying that while mortals might change quickly, they are ultimately nothing more than food and cover. The Dragon mentors often respond to this sort of arrogance by ssigning the pupil to spend a week interacting only with mortals. Humanity might be food and cover, but even the most inhumane Dragon knows that Dracula himself stood on the shoulders of mortal alchemists and scholars when developing The Coils of the Dragon. Humans might be ignorant, but human society has much to teach.
Many mentors take elements of both of these approaches when teaching their students how to observe change. After all, excluding Kindred from early lessons can lead to Dragons identifying too closely with mortals, which isn’t conducive to understanding and shaping the vampiric condition. Likewise, shying away from Humanity and delving much quickly into the Kindred condition may make the pupil incredulous that vampires can change at all. Thus, the best situations for initial observance of change come from situations in which both vampires and mortals congregate. Hunting grounds, especially, draw Dragons and their students, lying in wait like naturalists watching a Herd of zebra for the eventual lion attack. Of course, the hunters in question don’t usually appreciate this sort of scrutiny, and that in itself canprovoke changes that the Dragons find most interesting. (Mentors who advocate this kind of observation should teach their students to have an escape route planned out in advance.)
The point of these exercises is to teach the students to observe change with all methods at their disposal, but to avoid enacting change accidentally. Dragons aren’t necessarily taught to be dispassionate in their observations, however. Dracula himself was hardly a stoic or impassionate figure, as a mortal or a vampire. The covenant’s more recent developmental roots, however, teach that observers may feel strongly about a discovery but should endeavor to keep those feelings from interfering in the process of discovery.
By way of example, consider a neonate Dragon and his Mentor perched on a fire escape watching the human drama of the streets. (Assume they are both skilled enough to remain hidden from that drama.) As they watch, they see a young woman assaulted by a pair of thugs. The neonate might well feel outraged and wish to intervene, but then he would lose the opportunity to observe the changes in the woman and her assailants. Suppose they murder the woman, for instance. The disposal of her body might provide an interesting object lesson for the Kindred, useful in the nights ahead. If the thugs merely injure or rob her, she might report them to the police. Thenthe Kindred would be able to see an investigation in action, which is also good exposure (or the pupil might see exactly how little the police care). If the vampire jumps into the fray and kills or drives off the attackers, he provides change, as well, but if the neonate has not progressed to the stage of wisely enacting change rather than studiously observing it, he is unlikely to truly appreciate the effects of the changes he sets in motion himself.
Of course, a possible consequence of remaining impassive in the presence of such displays of immorality is a withering of the Man. Some mentors regard this temporary loss of ground to the Beast as an acceptable and inevitable form of change, endemic to the vampiric condition.
The Solitude Paradox serves two purposes for the covenant as a whole. First, it drives home the idea that the scientific methods of the covenant and the existence and acknowledgement of God are not mutually exclusive. Second, however, this principle is designed to make Dragons comfortable with the notion that they cannot keep secrets. No matter what they do or discover, The Ordo Dracul will eventually discover it, so it’s better to disclose their findings to someone they know and trust (usually their mentors or other members of their coteries) than to arouse Suspicion by holding on to information for too long.
Therefore, during the early nights of a Dragon’s apprenticeship, the Mentor tries to feel out her student for gaps in her schooling or knowledge and fill them. What is considered a gap depends entirely on what the Mentor intends to teach. Not all of the knowledge thus imparted is as limited in scope as theatre of the absurd, of course. Many mentors discover that Kindred Embraced within the past two decades often have poor combat skills, and teach their charges how to fight, stalk and hunt successfully.
Of course, since most Dragons know this Discipline, and since most new Dragons discover very quickly that other members of the covenant usually know this Discipline, Dragons become masters of communicating without making a sound. Gestures, facial expressions and other non-verbal cues are quite useful when someone standing out of mortal earshot can still hear a whisper. Other Dragons compensate for this by learning uncommon or dead languages.
Because so many ways of measuring the world exist, the methods of measurement and the specific results obtained aren’t the most important lesson here. The lesson is that all change can be measured, even spiritual change, if one has the proper tools and knowledge. How “evil” or “godly” a mortal or vampire is should be measurable as well. Doing so only requires a method of measurement and an appropriate scale — that not all methods are currently available to the Order is irrelevant to the philosophy.
This revelation frightens many young vampires, especially when they reflect on how far they have fallen since their Embrace. But that is precisely the point — the Dragons are reminded, as with the Solitude Paradox, that by measuring the world they must themselves be subject to measurement, and should be ready to accept that. This precept isn’t necessarily a spiritual one (the Dragons long ago realized that the notion of doing unto others as they would have others do unto them was a death wish), but a realistic and scientific one. In order to change, they must understand their current situation and be able to recognize when something has changed. Another related lesson is one that any scientist knows: absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. If a Dragon observes no change in a subject (even herself), this does not mean no change has occurred, but only that she has not observed it. The favored students of The Ordo Dracul are the ones who take the least for granted, and remain open to all possibilities when considering change.
Changing the world is a daunting proposition, but that’s why the early stages of training are designed to help Dragons gain some perspective. Deliberately enacting a change on a grand scale is difficult, and tracking the ripples such a change causes even more so. Even minute changes have far-reaching effects, however, and so mentors typically instruct their students to take some action not easily traceable to a particular being and then follow the chain of events. For instance, a vampire might sabotage a stoplight, causing a car accident. The Kindred then waits as the police arrive (and paramedics, if necessary), the mortals glower at each other, the cars are towed away, and so on. The Kindred now chooses one of the mortals involved and follows him to see how this change of “fate” has impacted his life. The target could be one of the mortals involved in the accident itself, one of the cops, the worker driving the tow truck or even a witness. (If a student coterie is involved, they might each choose a subject and then later compare notes.)
Some very thorough Dragons choose one mortal in the beginning of the evening and arrange the events to involve him, watching carefully to seehis reactions to the calamities in his life. (Sometimes Dragons arrange for positive changes, but it’s widely believed in the covenant that tragedy causes more educational changes.) Sometimes the Dragon only watches the mortal at night, reasoning that what happens during the day is out of the Kindred’s purview. Other, more ambitious members of the covenant believe that this sort of thinking isn’t at all conducive to transcendence and arrange for Ghouls or other servants to watch their target while the Kindred slumbers.
As mentioned in Vampire: The Requiem, one of common lessons in enacting change involves killing a single mortal and thenfollowing the chain of events his death causes.This lesson has many variations, however, depending on the Mentor and student in question.
A Mentor might assign a coterie to kill one mortal, and then “follow the dragon’s tail,” noting as many changes and reactions as possible. Several Kindred being involved allows the students to check each other’s findings, pursue avenues of investigation not open to a lone vampire and, if necessary, protect one another from retribution.
Another lesson suitable for a coterie of Dragons is sometimes called the Counting the Dragon’s Scales. In this rare exercise, the coterie kills a mortal, and focuses tightly on the effects of that death for a predetermined amount of time (usually one month). Then, two members of the coterie commit similar murders, at the same time but in different parts of the city. Again, the coterie observes for one month. This continues until finally each member of the coterie commits a murder at the same time and in the same manner, in locations scattered around the city, or until the threat to the Masquerade becomes too great, whichever comes first. The coterie — and usually any other Dragons in the city (most mentors consider this experiment too interesting to miss) — watches the city carefully.
What mythology springs up about the deaths? Do they appear to be accidents or murders? Do the city officials bring in special federal agents to help solve it? Where is the panic most concentrated in comparison to where most of the deaths took place? Obviously, Counting the Dragon’s Scales only works well in cities in which The Ordo Dracul holds a great deal of power. Attempting it in other cities usually brings down swift retribution, unless the coterie is careful to remove any trace of vampiric activity. Even then, the students remember their early lessons — anything can be measured, if one knows how.
If the Kindred belong to a coterie that includes members of other covenants, the Mentor usually instructs the Kindred to pay special attention to the effect the death has on them. Depending on the particulars of the death, the other Kindred’s superiors in their covenants might hear of it and call for a cessation of hunting in that area or a search for the vampire in question, but it might just pass beneath their notice. If the Dragon kills the mortal while in sight of the others, she has the opportunity to record their reactions to the death, and then perhaps kill some time later and see if those reactions are any different.
Mentors aren’t above using this “experiment” as a way to play politics, of course. An older Dragon in a city where (for example) The Invictus holds power might instruct her charge to kill a mortal in a manner that endangers the Masquerade and in a location that implicates a member of the ruling covenant. The neonate is then instructed to observe the effect that murder has on mortal society, while the Mentor watches the Danse Macabre for changes resulting from the act. She rarely informs her pupil of her intentions, of course, for fear of tainting the experiment. If the city’s Kindred trace the crime back to the student, the experience serves as a test of the student’s loyalty.
Note, too, that most Dragons don’t engage in a great deal of existentialist discussions when discussing the purpose of change. Change must have a purpose to them, not in some grandiose cosmic scheme. A hurricane destroying buildings is pointless chaos — as the Order cannot control — but the Order can benefit from the changes that follow in its wake. A vampire lost to the Beast is likewise a random element in the world, beyond the careful designs of The Ordo Dracul.
In every action a Dragon takes, she is advised to consider her desired goal. Short-sighted goals aren’t necessarily discouraged — sometimes, satisfaction of vengeance or lust is all one really needs for a while. Mentors do require that their charges acknowledge such goals for what they are, however, rather than cloaking a desire to slay a rival in any self-righteous blather about slaying a degenerate Kindred or doing God’s will. The Ordo Dracul knows God’s will — God tests the Kindred, and the Dragons test Him in turn.
When searching for meaning in acts of God, the first question Dragons ask is cui bono — who profits? A hurricane is damaging to everyone it touches, but suppose it destroys the Haven of a particularly diabolical Kindred and his childer, paving the way for more reasonable vampires (say, of the Ordo Dracul) to take his domains? A shooting spree might kill good people but might also slay someone who, in his private life, was a closet occultist or scholar who might have had something to teach The Ordo Dracul. Follow every tragedy long enough and it will lead to a boon for someone.
In every change of the world, the Dragons must consider whether the change affects them — and whether it was meant to.
The alchemists saw their efforts in an entirely different light. To them, the Philosopher’s Stone was not simply a precious metal of economic import but a substance capable of curing illness, restoring youth and even prolonging life indefinitely. While they had no proof that the Philosopher’s Stone existed, they were convinced that it did. In fact, they were certain that God had hidden it so that only those truly worthy to possess it might do so. As might be expected, the alchemists felt that by dint of their rare knowledge of natural philosophy and their disciplined methodology, they were the only people worthy of discovering and using the grail they sought. Through effort and unwavering dedication, they were sure that the Philosopher’s Stone and all it promised would be theirs.
The Dragons, too, have their Philosopher’s Stone, but outside The Ordo Dracul its true nature is rarely understood. Most Kindred believe that the Dragons seek merely to transcend the curses of the Kindred condition: hunger, frenzy and the agonies of flame and daylight. By doing so, the Dragons will be able to enjoy the benefits of undeath without the suffering. From the perspective of most vampires, this seems purpose enough. Of course, because the Dragons do not share their discoveries with outsiders, they are also seen as selfish and notably dangerous. Freed of the pains and limitations of undeath, they would make formidable opponents.
This kind of reasoning leads some to suspect that The Ordo Dracul’s true goal is political in nature — that one night the Dragons will make their move in the Danse Macabre and thereby seize power for themselves in a way that the most cunning Prince cannot foresee. Those who still crave Vitae, fall to frenzy and are forced to flee the touch of sunlight would stand little chance against such conquerors. Other, more religious Kindred are concerned not so much with the political implications of the Dragon’s activities as with the theological ones. Many Sanctified see the Coils as proof that The Ordo Dracul is nothing less than a nest of witches and foul sorcerers whose real intent is to defy God’s judgment. The Almighty did not intend damnation to be an easy thing to bear; every attempt the Dragons make to lessen or eliminate one of the telltale banes of the Damned is another slap in the face of God.
The Great Work is about more than vampires inoculating themselves against the drawbacks that come with their accursed condition. It is about unlocking the very door of undeath itself, wrenching it wide open and plunging beyond into another state of existence. Thecovenant’s philosophies, its organization and methodologies, and even the Coils are but the tools and products of this unprecedented quest. To complete the Great Work, to transcend the Kindred condition, is to become a veritable god among all creatures that walk the earth, living or unliving. Precisely what the Dragons will become when that happens remains a thing of great debate within the Order, but all are convinced that they will become something that is superior in every regard to animals, mortals and Kindred alike.
If the Great Work is a sturdy door, then it is secured with locks that must be defeated before it can be opened. Dracula himself identified these locks, classifying all the banes of Kindred existence into three fundamental curses in order that they might be more easily understood and vanquished.
Acknowledging the existence of the biblical God suits many Dragons. Dracula’s own words bear out just such a notion, and it succinctly solves the riddle of the Kindred condition: they are the Damned, cursed by God for the sins of the individual and of Humanity as a whole. Dragons who accept this definition of God don’t typically buy into Longinian philosophy, of course, but they do maintain a particular reverence for the divine. God may have turned His back on them, but He’s still there and He sees all.
An even more popular conception of God among the Order is the Gnostic approach, in which God is somewhat more abstract, albeit no less central. Knowledge is seen as the supreme spark of divinity, and, with it, one can literally transcend one sphere of existence and enter another, higher one. However, denied this divine gnosis on account of some spiritual failing, the Kindred are unable to die and, therefore, damned to remain in this sphere forever, never passing on to the next. Gnostic types value knowledge over everything else and see that the only escape from the Requiem lies in learning all they can.
The Theosophical Movement influenced a number of prominent Dragon scholars and continues to color the thinking of the Order tonight. To the theosophists, God is transformed into something wholly abstract and becomes the Universal Spirit or Prime Mover. Damnation is a form of karmic justice that is not caused by God in a direct sense, but is more the necessary consequence of the cosmic Law of Retribution.
While these are the most widespread beliefs, numerous less common views are also held, from the esoteric and numerological to the more freakish and even sinister. Officially, the covenant takes no position, except to point to the Rites of the Dragon and the words of their founder recorded therein. Knowing the true origin of the Kindred may be interesting, but the practical nature of The Ordo Dracul also makes it less than essential to the Great Work. So long as the Dragons can transcend their condition, the matter is just as valuable as an eternal, driving mystery as it might be if answered.
Dracula theorized that this craving for blood was indicative of the incomplete state of undeath. A complete being would not suffer in this piteous fashion. Such a being might take blood if it so desired — to enhance its capabilities or for the sheer joy of the sensation — but it would not need to do so to survive. However, the Kindred are subordinate to their blood-thirst, so they must be missing some essential component required to be complete.
Those Dragons who pursue The Coil of Blood focus their attention on this imperfection. They seek to replace the need for blood with something else, filling the gnawing void with something that is far less demanding than blood — practically and psychologically. Some Dragons experiment with narcotics, powerful medicines and all manner of potions and elixirs of their own manufacture. Others see that path as a circular one that will only replace one Addiction with another. Instead, they take a more holistic view and seek to use intellectual pursuits, Meditation and even self-hypnosis to quell their bloodlust. A few turn to even more esoteric solutions, hopeful that their incompleteness can be resolved by enacting a restorative ritual or concluding a complex procedure. Whatever the modus operandi, success will make the Dragon complete, removing her dependence upon external things and freeing her from perhaps the strongest of the chains that prohibits her from transcending the Kindred condition.
Dragons tend to be some of the most deviant Kindred not only in terms of their philosophies, but also their appearance and mannerisms. As they study The Coil of Banes and work to wrench themselves from their stagnant condition, they use their own flesh As One means to achieve their end. Tattoos, piercings, scarification and other physical alterations are popular tonight, with many students going to horrific extremes. Self-mutilation followed by rapid Healing is not uncommon, a practice believed to “teach” the Kindred’s body how to quickly and repeatedly change. Physical change is often accompanied by a change in wardrobe. If the expression “the clothes make the man” holds any truth, then a radical departure from usual dress can aid the Dragon in modifying her one sense of self-identity. This belief is institutionalized in the garb donned for Order ceremonies. Upon attaining a new title or responsibility within the covenant, a Dragon is sometimes given a new set of clothing to not only symbolize to others the change in Status but also to better help the just-promoted Dragon see herself as a truly different individual.
This philosophy extends beyond mere attire. Dragons often purposefully examine their habits, their speech patterns and even their smallest mannerisms, from habitual gestures to gait and posture. Like an actor taking on a role, they then work to eliminate or notably modify some or all of these things, becoming quite different in the process. Other Kindred may find this kind of metamorphosis disturbing, and many suspect it is a symptom of mental instability, not understanding that it is an intentional change manifested for a very specific purpose. Dragons who hold influential and highly visible positions in the domain can cause great stirs when they undertake this kind of makeover, but politics and social gossip are insignificant when compared to the Great Work.
The Kindred are condemned to spend eternity engaged in this exhausting battle, knowing that even if the Man is able to claim victory for the most part, the Beast can never be fully destroyed. Time and time again it will surge to the fore, overrunning the Man and doing as it pleases with no regard to the concerns of the vampire’s more human side. Consequently, the Kindred often seem to be unreasoning creatures, sabotaging their own best laid plans. Experience has also shown that as the years pass, this siege takes its toll on the Man, who increasingly collapses under the strain. For some Kindred, the effort becomes entirely too much, and their animal passions finally strike a fatal blow to the last vestiges of the Man. These Kindred become revenants, ghastly reminders of what lurks within the breast of every vampire: a Beast always seeking to claw its bloody way to the surface despite every attempt to push it back into its cage.
To any thinker, the curse of an unreasoning mind is an unwelcome thought — to those who hold scholarship and intellectual achievement to be the highest purpose, it is the height of damnation. To conduct productive investigations to further the Great Work, a Dragon must be able to think clearly, to rely upon deductive conclusions, and to make keen observations untainted by strong biases and distractions. To overcome the curse of unreason the Beast must be chained at a minimum, but ultimately it must be subjugated entirely to the rational mind. Some suggest it should be eliminated entirely, that what the Dragons one night can become will no longer have any need for “fight or flight” instincts. Some approaches tend to mimic those used for mastering wildlife. Outright cruelty, Pavlovian techniques and empathetic bonding are commonplace. The Coil of the Beast demonstrates the effectiveness of these procedures, enabling the Dragons to shackle their primitive instincts in a way that gives the Man the greatest amount of control possible, even as it benefits from the presence of the domesticated Beast.
Because most Dragons come from a scientific or academic background, this methodology is already ingrained in the covenant’s members. Accolades are awarded to those who dedicate themselves to the strictest definition of the scientific method, double- and triple-checking all their results, repeatedly testing their procedures under all possible circumstances, and working tirelessly to eliminate every subjective or corruptive influence that might lessen the reliability of their findings. Healthy skepticism and productive self-criticism do not go unnoticed in the Order — the best and brightest almost universally display these virtues.
Not every Dragon obeys the principles of the scientific method as fully as her peers, of course. Some become lazy and allow themselves a little flexibility, at times sacrificing methodology to expediency. Minor Flaws and lapses are usually tolerated, especially when the work is of a mostly personal nature that is not going to be subject to the scrutiny of a critical Mentor or the review of others. Flagrant disregard for scientific orthodoxy is another matter altogether and is seldom tolerated except in domains where the covenant’s presence is small, or the covenant is rife with internal strife and ruthless competition. Ignoring the proper methodological guidelines leads to irreproducible results and the very real possibility of harm — not only to the reckless Dragon, but to The Ordo Dracul overall. A vampire does not play haphazardly with fire, and some of the things the Dragons subject to experimentation can be far more dangerous than fire.
The maxim that there are many ways to skin a cat is one The Ordo Dracul ardently embraces. If the end result is achieved, the method by which it was obtained is relatively insignificant, so long as it is rigorous and proven scientifically reliable. Clinging stubbornly to one approach and refusing to consider others is not only short-sighted, but usually detrimental to success. However speedily progress is being made, a Dragon must always ask whether there might be a more efficacious way to pursue her goal.
This concept is an essential one for every fledgling Dragon to grasp and remember. The straight path may appear the most direct, but it is often littered with obstacles that will make further progress difficult if not altogether impossible. The crooked path, on the other hand, allows the Dragon to change course whenever obstacles are encountered, to select an alternative way to proceed despite any seeming incompatibility with past methods. This conviction colors everything about the Dragons and is the ethical touchstone upon which all other things are judged. To The Ordo Dracul, the ends always justify the means.
The history of The Ordo Dracul and the variety of experiences its members bring with them have opened the door to almost as many approaches to the covenant’s scientific pursuits as there are Dragons. An Initiate in Berlin might employ a scientific methodology that relies heavily on Darwinian and Malthusian theory, Gray’s anatomical explorations and modern gene therapy. Another Dragon in Los Angeles might put her trust in Tesla’s principles of electromagnetism, Mesmeric technique and studies that propose a strong correlation between earthly resonance and psychic ability. A third practitioner might delve into the phenomenon of spiritual manifestations and ectoplasmic emanations, hoping to wrest some secret from those who have already passed beyond undeath into the lands of shadow. A fourth Dragon might rely upon the power inherent in words and numbers, using complex phonic and mathematical formulae to unearth truths that would cause a sane man to tremble at their implications. So long as the tenets of the scientific method are observed, there is no limit to what the Dragons might utilize to achieve their aims.
See “Schools of Methodology” on p. 118 for details about the various ways the Dragons approach the Great Work.
However, first and foremost it is still a brotherhood of academics who find fulfillment in each other’s company — or at least a welcome reprieve from the oft-times grueling demands of the Requiem. This is frequently forgotten by the Dragons as their substantial intellects are all too capable of exploiting the Order’s complex hierarchy, myriad laws and the power they have at the ready to not do so. Those who are able to retain a clear sense of the covenant’s fundamental purpose are usually the same Kindred who are able to maintain their own Humanity, while those too easily swayed by the worst of their predatory instincts tend to miss the forest for the trees and are far more ruthless politicians and taskmasters than pedantic scholars. The Ordo Dracul counts each kind of Dragon among its membership.
No matter where The Ordo Dracul lairs are or what forms they take, there are more similarities than differences. Every Academy places great significance upon which secrets it parcels out to its members and what degree of authority it will grant them. The Ordo Dracul may not have as many degrees as the Scottish Rite of Freemasonry, but what it lacks in stratification it makes up for in the kinds of secrets its ranking members are privy to. At least from the perspective of another Kindred, the ability to go without blood or to walk unharmed in daylight are beyond all valuation, and these are just some of the things the most accomplished Dragons are familiar with. Less august members of the covenant may not have access to such knowledge and the power it represents, but they are nonetheless rewarded richly for their services to the covenant. Even the lowliest student has an understanding of truths that would shake up Kindred society if they were known by outsiders. With each advance in The Ordo Dracul, a Dragon is also granted greater authority — over knowledge, artifacts or other Dragons. Being able to decide who will be told what secrets, who can borrow a certain tome, or who can come and go is very real power. Responsibility comes with the mantle of authority, however. The Dragon entrusted with a certain secret who accidentally lets it slip to someone deemed unworthy is ultimately responsible for anything and everything that happens as a consequence.
A chapter house is essentially a dwelling or other structure that is large enough and otherwise well-suited to provide the city’s Dragons a place to gather, secure their valuables, conduct their Research and spend the day if necessary. Similar to Masonic lodges or granges, chapter houses provide The Ordo Dracul the secrecy it craves as well as a sense of community acceptable to even the most xenophobic Dragons. Most domains house only one chapter house, but large cities may have a few situated in a way that provides either geographic convenience or exploits the nature of the area’s ley lines. Few are actually established on an actual Wyrm’s Nest, however; doing so invites too much unwanted attention from a variety of possible threats, and a dozen years later that node could shift, leaving the chapter house high and dry. Where multiple chapter houses exist, one is deemed the Grand Chapter House while the others are named for their location. Technically, a Dragon’s Haven can be termed a chapter house, but unless the place is large, the conceit is usually dropped.
Old churches, academic buildings and even archaic private residences built in the heyday of gargantuan Gothic mansions are most frequently converted for use as a chapter house; some pretend publicly to still serve their former function, but most simply pose as private clubs or societies. A close inspection of many of these properties might reveal a host of indications of their true use; that is, that they serve as places of unorthodox study or interest. Incorporation of astrological, occult, mystical and just plain unusual architectural elements are common, and many chapter houses are specially chosen or renovated in order to take advantage of the local ley lines or other mystical points or directions. The interiors are usually reminiscent of both Victorian gentlemen’s clubs and occult laboratories, and all set aside a large proportion of space for the Academy’s library. Security may be archaic or state-ofthe- art — or a mixture of both. The Castellan usually uses the chapter house as her Haven, but, space providing, any other Dragon may join her. Many neonates, yet unable to outfit their own secure Haven, take advantage of this. Given their relatively lowly Status, however, they usually find their sleeping arrangements spartan, if not cramped. At least one Guardian is also in the habit of spending the day in the chapter house, in case of trouble.
Despite The Ordo Dracul’s emphasis on security and secrecy, it is not uncommon for an Academy to open its doors to at least some of the more prominent — or selectively important — Kindred in the city on occasion. The intent is partly to quell Suspicion of grand conspiracies and Devil worship, but it is also in part to tease the guests by allowing them a glimpse of some of the treasures the covenant possesses. A momentary glimpse of the chapter house’s vast library, for instance, can generate a lust for access within a Primogen that can later be used to negotiate some important matter in the Dragons’ favor. It need not be said, but during such visits every precaution is taken to hide truly important assets and to ensure the guests penetrate only those areas cleared for their perusal. Given the Disciplines that such visitors may possess, this is not often an easy thing to do.
It is most common for a Dragon to have a single Mentor, usually, but not always, an older vampire who possesses a greater wealth of knowledge of the Coils and the Great Work in general. The Mentor typically chooses her protégé or protégés, but sometimes a more senior Dragon may direct the choice, especially if the candidate seeking a Mentor has political value. Once the relationship is established, it can last for decades and even centuries. Most end because the student has learned as much as she can from her Mentor, and the two often maintain a cordial peer relationship. Sometimes, one or both displeases the other in such a fashion that the relationship is severed entirely; the ill will that results can become the basis for a rivalry that has the potential to tear the covenant apart if allowed to fester for too long. Where a Mentor accepts more than one protégé, the competition between them can grow just as fierce, with each seeking to become the primary or even sole protégé. This kind of personal infighting can also cause a great deal of unrest that can ultimately hamper The Ordo Dracul’s aims.
Few formalities exist in the mentor-protégé relationship, unless the Mentor feels it necessary. Lessons can take nearly any form, from private lectures and study assignments to more public discussion and dialectic. Most protégés are also expected to attend to their Mentor regularly, to observe all she does and says, and to demonstrate an understanding of the lesson. Protégés are always being tested, also. A good Mentor questions she own biases towards she protégé and will regularly seek ways to quantifiably measure the student’s progress. Not only does this improve the Mentor’s ability to educate she protégé, but it can improve the Mentor’s standing in the covenant. A talented protégé reflects well upon the Mentor, just as an incompetent one can tarnish she reputation. Mentors are always eying the accomplishments of their peers’ protégés in order to size up the competition. Outsiders may believe that The Ordo Dracul is merely a collective of scholars too concerned with their studies to involve themselves in politicking, but the rivalries that exist in the covenant can be as ambitious, fearsome and devious as anything in the Danse Macabre, making many Dragons skilled political manipulators.
Finally, it has become common practice for a Dragon to demonstrate her appreciation for her Mentor, usually on an annual basis — but sometimes after she has accomplished a great thing that would have been impossible without proper mentoring. She might present her Mentor a suitable gift, such as a written work she has been unable to procure for many months, or something less practical, yet no less appreciative, like a rare painting by the Mentor’s favorite artist that she can hang in her Haven. Dragons may be more hidebound than most Kindred, but they aren’t blind to the value of things unrelated to their studies. Often a protégé instead chooses to honor her Mentor by providing her clear evidence of her accomplishments. She might challenge her Mentor to a game of Go that requires her full attentiveness throughout the day, showing her her mastery of The Coil of Banes or she might decide to handle fire in a way that by rights should send her into Rötschreck even as she remains placid. Regardless of the manner in which she displays her thanks and respect, it is, as they say, the thought that counts. A protégé who brown-noses too much is still less worthy in the eyes of most mentors than one who excels as a student, even if she may not observe this custom with as much regularity or zeal.
The most recognized achievement in The Ordo Dracul is mastery of The Coils of the Dragon. Given that every Dragon pursues the same Great Work — even if they dedicate more time to other, Lesser Works — and the Coils are proof of further progress towards that goal, only the most loutish Dragons do not feel respect for a fellow Dragon who has surpassed them in this sphere. However, the covenant has concerns that often must come before the meritorious achievements of its membership, no matter how impressive. For this reason, it is just as often politics, economics, security and personal influence that determine the chain of command within an Academy. What’s more, not every bookish genius is fit to be in charge of a complex organization that faces all sorts of challenges night in and night out.
Therefore, while a Dragon’s esoteric progress is worthy — nay, demanding — of respect, it does not automatically determine one’s rank. This has led the path to political power within the covenant to become known as the Dragon’s Tongue. All Dragons set out on that path by following a similar route, serving and learning from mentors and pursuing The Coils of the Dragon, but before long they will recognize that the path divides, and a host of possible routes to power are available to them. Which route they choose not only determines much about their future role in The Ordo Dracul, but it says even more about the Dragons themselves.
Despite this, the ranks of authority The Ordo Dracul typically recognizes — ranks devised by Dracula himself — are still technically defined by how many Coils one has learned. This is usually interpreted only as a suggested guideline. Also, because it is so difficult to prove whether a certain Dragon has or has not demonstrated sufficient mastery of a particular Coil, many Dragons are promoted to ranks they would never deserve if Dracula’s original criteria were still used. Some of these individuals are outright pretenders, lying about their capabilities in order to a better position themselves for promotion. Rarely are such shysters punished by revocation of rank, in part because the Coils are no longer a requirement, but also because it would likely result in too much turmoil for the entire Academy. In addition, the pretender might actually be well-suited for her new duties, even if her mystical talents are lacking. When it comes down to this, most Dragons show themselves to be pragmatists.
In addition to a Dragon’s rank, the covenant recognizes the particular direction a Dragon takes as her work progresses. Called a domain, it announces the Coil the Dragon is most expert in. Domains are seen by many to be a key to a Dragon’s nature that provides further insight beyond what the Tarot can offer. More than simple decorative titles, they are treated as important by most Dragons. In much the same way as some people impart great meaning to one’s astrological sign and make decisions based upon that, the Dragons tend to cede the same kind of significance to the domains. Duties assigned to an Initiate of Hunger will likely be different than those given to another Initiate whose domain is of the Curse; each is seen to have its own strengths and weaknesses and decisions are made accordingly whenever practical.
Many Academies also recognize the use of so-called “decorations,” descriptive flourishes added to a Dragon’s title to emphasize things like the subject’s second-most favored Coil, her Mentor’s rank and even clan or bloodline. Each Academy has its own precise rules for use of these heraldic devices, and, while many are common, many more are unique to the particular domain. In London, a Master of the Curse who also is quite accomplished in The Coil of the Beast is called an Untamed Master of the Curse — in Los Angeles, a Dragon of similar rank and achievement is a Master of the Furious Curse.
Despite the covenant’s penchant for orthodoxy in its methods, its laws, its structure and its purpose, its growth invariably resulted in differences of opinion and practice. Most of these were very minor and easily dealt with, but some were more troublesome, and the stubbornness of various Dragons in The Ordo Dracul’s earlier years resulted in deadlocks that could not be reconciled. This could have led to serious fractures in the covenant that might have spelled its doom, but instead the eldest Dragons turned to their roots for a solution. Change could be tolerated so long as it was with purpose, and so, with purpose, the most egregious differences were dealt with by codifying them as various forms or Rites by which the covenant could organize itself. While some animosity remains between the different Rites even still, most are able to work together if necessary for the greater good of The Ordo Dracul. In most domains, a single Rite is represented and determines the nature of the local Academy. In the very largest cities, there may be multiple Rites present, each with its own hierarchy and each acting to a large degree as a separate Academy.
The covenant officially recognizes only a handful of Rites, but other unofficial ones have arisen in localities where considerable differences exist for adoption of a recognized Rite.
That said, we can draw certain conclusions about a vampire based on the combination of her clan and the choice to join the Dragons.
The problem, of course, is that reclamation is a step back, and that isn’t what The Ordo Dracul is interested in. They wish to move forward, to leave the Requiem behind and discover what transcendental reward awaits. And this often scares the hell out of young Daeva. They watch as Dragons mutilate themselves learning the Coils, spend weeks or months locked away from human or Kindred contact in their Research, and venture out into the night searching for “places of power” in locales that are so far removed from what a Daeva would consider “powerful” that some Succubi start waiting for the punch line.
Daeva do find niches within the covenant, however. As sensualists, they latch on to The Coil of Blood easily, looking for new ways to experience their only true passion. Their social prowess means that they play the part of diplomat well, and when the covenant needs to represent (or misrepresent) itself to the Kindred in power in a new city, their choice envoy is often from this clan. As superb political and social animals, Daeva do well within the vicious obedience-based structure of the covenant, but they also tend to get so wrapped up in manipulating the system that their Research into the Coils stagnates. That said, an Initiate or Adept of this clan might find a place in the clan as a broker of favors or an advisor of sorts — enough Status to be taken seriously, but not enough to be a threat.
The Sworn of the Axe and the Sworn of Mysteries have good numbers of Succubi among them, but the Sworn of the Dying Light receives little of its membership from this clan. This isn’t to say that the Daeva are incapable of understanding and advancing The Coils of the Dragon, simply that many Daeva are Embraced for reasons other than their capacity for lateral thought and ambition.
But not everyone in the covenant treats the Savages as royalty. Some Kindred point out that while the Gangrel can change themselves, they change themselves within a prescribed format: first the claws, then the Beast, then the mist. Gangrel may tend to grasp the precepts of the Coils faster than other Kindred (and Savages don’t seem inclined to master any one Coil more easily than the others),but once a Gangrel learns her first Coil the curve tends to fall. The Gangrel, their critics within The Ordo Dracul say, have the lucky happenstance of being shapeshifters, but all that does is give them a brief edge. It doesn’t put them any closer to enlightenment. In fact, as their minds erode as they grow older, it could be argued that their facility is for devolution, rather than change.
The clan has a long and glorious history in the covenant, and their fearsome Moroi bloodline is one of the most dangerous weapons of The Ordo Dracul. All three Orders of the Sworn have Gangrel among their ranks, and their affinity for Protean and the concordant ease of travel they enjoy make them superb Guardians and scouts for Wyrm’s Nests. The Gangrel are, it seems, a backbone of the covenant.
And yet, few Gangrel may seem to ascend to senior leadership roles in The Ordo Dracul. One is more likely to find Savages acting as Kogaions. Gangrel who can look objectively at the covenant and its practices may see that the best word to describe their choice isn’t “essential” but “useful.”
Other vampires are no strangers to the mysteries of the World of Darkness, of course. A Kindred of any clan might run across something that she can’t explain. For the Mekhet, though, their heightened perceptions and propensity for lurking in the hidden places of the world often means that they come face to face with more of the secrets of the domain than any other clan. Mekhet of faith might gravitate toward The Lancea Sanctum or The Circle of the Crone, but those who want answers, or, better yet, the power to do something with their knowledge, seek out a Dragon.
Like the Gangrel, the Mekhet are much prized in the covenant. Unlike the Gangrel, the Shadows probably find positions of leadership much to their liking. Kogaions are more likely to be Mekhet than any other clan, it seems, and many members of the clan wind up as Sworn of Mysteries or Dying Light. Lower-level members of the covenant often seek out coteries that wish to practice the Coils, rather than simply study them, or become Guardians or investigators of Wyrm’s Nests. Shadows seem to have an affinity for The Coil of Banes, though it might be that they simply study this Coil first in an attempt to mitigate their innate vulnerability to light.
Such Nosferatu don’t last long. The Ordo Dracul has no room for meaningless showboats, and older members of the covenant are long past being terrified or even disgusted by a vampire without real power. While any intelligent vampire respects the physical strength and mental power the Haunts can wield, The Ordo Dracul has little interest in fear for fear’s sake.
The Haunts who excel in the covenant are those who realize that they are already set apart from Humanity and most Kindred by dint of their monstrousness. Dracula was a monster, to be sure, but his inhumanity allowed him to do great things and begin the journey toward transcendence. Why does the Nosferatu blood set them apart? Is it a curse, in truth, or the first step on a road to power and greatness?
Within the covenant, Haunts often gravitate toward The Coil of the Beast and the Sworn of the Axe (and occasionally toward the Moroi bloodline, but this indicates a different kind of Kindred). The latter tendency is simple to understand. The Nosferatu naturally possess effective martial prowess (or at least the potential for such). Their propensity for The Coil of the Beast, however, is something of a mystery. The most common theory, however, is that their clan weakness already sets the Beast in sharper relief than in most Kindred. This allows the Nosferatu to better see the Beast and better set herself apart from it.
Another interesting facet of Dragon Haunts is that they often fill the role of Confessor within a coterie. They aren’t necessarily humane, but understand Humanity because they can view it more objectively (or so the thinking goes). Some Nosferatu Confessors consider themselves “sin-eaters,” becoming monsters so that their fellows do not have to. This leads to younger Kindred existing in fear of their Nosferatu comrades, as the Haunts take on the task of killing, sometimes brutally, any mortal that the coterie deems necessary. After all, the Nosferatu might reason, no need for the entire coterie to give ground to the Beast when the Haunt is a monster already.
Neonate Ventrue who seek out The Ordo Dracul often do so out of a desire to ingratiate themselves to one of the greatest enigmas of the Requiem. Many Kindred don’t really believe that Dragons can cheat the curse of vampirism — if there was a way to, say, endure sunlight, wouldn’t the rest of Kindred society have seen it by now? Surely The Ordo Dracul is merely a secret society. A powerful one, to be sure, but not hiding anything in the way of arcane secrets. These Ventrue see the Ordo as a ticket to power, an elite club of scholars and possibly influential Kindred leaders. These young Lords are sometimes rather put off by the amount of obedience and servitude, to say nothing of work, that low-status members of the covenant are expected to put in (they’re even called Slaves!). But at the same time, these Kindred discover that the Dragons really do have a claim to power in the Coils, and that the power is there for the taking if the vampire is ambitious enough. Young Venture don’t usually suffer from a dearth of ambition, and so many of them advance in the Coils and in the covenant by sheer determination.
Older Ventrue come to The Ordo Dracul for very different reasons. They seek out the covenant to avoid losing their minds. The Lords can prattle about breeding and noblesse oblige all they like, but the truth is that they grow crazy as they grow older. While all Kindred might go mad with the years, for the Ventrue this madness isn’t a matter of chance, but a matter of time. The Ordo Dracul, supposedly, can help the Kindred mitigate some of the curses of undeath. Perhaps, then, it can help the Lords keep control of their minds?
As a primarily scholarly organization, however, they don’t often usurp cities and seize praxis. (At least, they are not perceived of doing so with the frequency of othercovenants.) Instead, they often do what they can to work alongside the Kindred in power, pursuing their own agendas and remaining, for the most part, outside their notice. This doesn’t always work, of course, but The Ordo Dracul has several advantages when dealing with Kindred society and the rest of the World of Darkness that other covenants usually can’t match.
First, werewolves are not confined to changing shape under the full moon. Second, while they are certainly brutal killers, they don’t seem to relish eating human flesh (although the Ordo has certainly found evidence that it happens). Third, they sometimes claim Wyrm’s Nests, and when they do, they defend them with an absolutely horrific territorial zeal (fortunately, they seem to favor fontal nests, which The Ordo Dracul doesn’t have as much use for). Finally, and most fascinating, the werewolves are inherently spiritual creatures. They have a relationship with God that The Ordo Dracul cannot fathom. Brief conversations between Dragons and werewolves seem to indicate that they hold a somewhat animistic worldview, that they see God in everything, from the sky to the sea to the ground. Furthermore, they see vampires as completely soulless, devoid of the presence of God entirely.
While depressing, this rather confirms what the Ordo already believed: God exists, but He has forsaken the Kindred.
The Ordo Dracul knows that werewolves have their own society and would love to know more about it, but given how insular and secretive Kindred society is, they recognize that the hapeshifters aren’t likely to give up any important information. Still, the shapeshifters represent a constant source of intrigue — if these beasts understand the Divine on an instinctive level, what does that suggest about the Kindred Beast?
Still, the fact that Humanity can empower itself through wizardry is interesting to the covenant. If Humanity can transcend without making the step to vampirism, perhaps in the theory of human magic lies the key to the final change. There the theory breaks down, however, because if there is a single magical theory by which mortals perform sorcery, The Ordo Dracul hasn’t found it. If anything, magic seems cultural. A voodooienne might produce results, but so might a Kabbalist. They can’t possibly all be ight, and so The Ordo Dracul feels it must look deeper into the phenomenon of mortal magic to gain any real insight.
The problem, however, is that mortal mages are difficult to find. The Ordo Dracul hasn’t discovered any reliable way of detecting them, although the covenant has noted that mages seem interested in some Wyrm’s Nests. Limited dealings with mages have led The Ordo Dracul to believe that they are capable of drawing power from Wyrm’s Nests in some capacity, but beyond that, their interest seems to vary from mage to mage. In any case, The Ordo Dracul wavers on its view of mages as opposed to other Kindred covenants holding Wyrm’s Nests. On the one hand, if mages claim the territory The Ordo Dracul can be fairly sure that they are using it, thus changing the magical flow of the area, which in itself might bring about some interesting mystical phenomena. On the other hand, the Dragons understand so little about mages — and some prefer the devil they know to the devil they don’t.
Thus, most of the ephemeral creatures that the Dragons encounter are ghosts. Normally, The Ordo Dracul deals with ghosts in pursuit of a haunt. The Dragons know that human spirits linger under certain conditions, and long years of observing what sorts of people become ghosts has led The Ordo Dracul to a fairly accurate body of information on the matter. They know that ghosts vary greatly in their abilities and temperament; some don’t know they are dead, while others have been watching the Kindred for years and know more about them than The Ordo Dracul finds acceptable. The Ordo Dracul occasionally instructs a coterie to find a ghost’s anchor — the object or mortal keeping it from passing on — and destroy it, thus ridding the whole of a troublesome or dangerous spirit (this doesn’t always work, due to the fact that some ghosts have multiple anchors, but clever coteries find ways to overcome such obstacles).
The most important thing about spirits and ghosts for Dragons to remember, however, is that they are never to act as masters to the members of this covenant. The Rites of the Dragon are very clear on this point (though why exactly Dracula thought this was so important isn’t quite as clear). Violating this rule was enough to change the mighty Dragolescu bloodline from one of the ruling powers in the covenant to a despised shadow of its former self in one short decade. The Ordo Dracul will not submit to otherworldly masters.
The Philosophy of Change
As stated in Vampire: The Requiem, the central tenet of The Ordo Dracul is that nothing is permanent. Everything changes, vampires included, and understanding that change is necessary for transcendence. This precept is so basic that many Dragons initially take it for granted. Of course everything changes. After all, they themselves have changed from mortal to Kindred in the space of one night, trading everything that they knew for an existence in the shadows of Humanity.This kind of reasoning tends to lead to maudlin poetry if allowed to continue, and Dragon mentors are quite willing to step in and correct a pupil before she reaches this stage.
Understanding Change
Change must be observable to be of any use. Waving one’s hand through the air changes the environment but not with any easily measurable effect (with the right instruments, even such subtle change can be observed, but more on this in a moment). When a new Dragon is given her first lessons, the focus is not on The Coils of the Dragon, not on the history of the covenant, but on simple, mundane observation. Dragons must be perceptive, and must be able to think outside normal strictures. This takes some effort. The human mind works in a set fashion, and breaking those patterns (or at least learning to recognize and subvert them) is the first thing a nascent Dragon must learn.Different mentors have different ways of hammering this point home. Some take their charges to Elysium and ask them to record how a given vampire changes over the course of the night. Does her clothing appear rumpled when she leaves? Is her skin tone the same? The Mentor cautions the Dragon against making assumptions. If the subject ventures into a private room with a mortal associate for a time and emerges looking disheveled, that could mean that the two of them were indulging in sex behind closed doors. But what other possibilities exist, and what evidence exists to support them? Does the mortal look pale and disoriented, or is he flushed and warm? Did others in the room begin whispering or react when they left, or appear to be listening? What was happening while the two of them were away?
Some mentors encourage their charges to shun Kindred society altogether, and join the nightlife of mortal society instead. After all, vampires are creatures of routine and stagnation, meaning their changes are so slow and subtle that they make for poor beginner’s lessons. Mortals can change so quickly as to be unrecognizable from one night to the next, and so make for easier study subjects than Kindred. A Dragon might take her student(s) to a nightclub, an opera, a party (of any social stratum) or a church service and instruct them to note changes in behavior, appearance and bearing of a few select people during the course of the night. She instructs her pupils to keep themselves unobtrusive, but if they are noticed, to take special note of changes they elicit in their subjects. She also instructs them to note not only what changes take place but also any obvious causes for those changes.
If a man who has been the life of the party suddenly grows withdrawn and sullen, there must be a reason. Often, it’s as simple as having too much to drink or having his advances rejected by a woman, but sometimes a more sinister cause is at work. Did he fall prey to another vampire while no one was looking? Is he suddenly ill, perhaps from the food (meaning that other patrons will soon feel the effects as well)? The point here is that even the most minute changes might signal events that the Dragon would do well to acknowledge. Some Dragons scoff at the wisdom of watching mortals, saying that while mortals might change quickly, they are ultimately nothing more than food and cover. The Dragon mentors often respond to this sort of arrogance by ssigning the pupil to spend a week interacting only with mortals. Humanity might be food and cover, but even the most inhumane Dragon knows that Dracula himself stood on the shoulders of mortal alchemists and scholars when developing The Coils of the Dragon. Humans might be ignorant, but human society has much to teach.
Many mentors take elements of both of these approaches when teaching their students how to observe change. After all, excluding Kindred from early lessons can lead to Dragons identifying too closely with mortals, which isn’t conducive to understanding and shaping the vampiric condition. Likewise, shying away from Humanity and delving much quickly into the Kindred condition may make the pupil incredulous that vampires can change at all. Thus, the best situations for initial observance of change come from situations in which both vampires and mortals congregate. Hunting grounds, especially, draw Dragons and their students, lying in wait like naturalists watching a Herd of zebra for the eventual lion attack. Of course, the hunters in question don’t usually appreciate this sort of scrutiny, and that in itself canprovoke changes that the Dragons find most interesting. (Mentors who advocate this kind of observation should teach their students to have an escape route planned out in advance.)
The point of these exercises is to teach the students to observe change with all methods at their disposal, but to avoid enacting change accidentally. Dragons aren’t necessarily taught to be dispassionate in their observations, however. Dracula himself was hardly a stoic or impassionate figure, as a mortal or a vampire. The covenant’s more recent developmental roots, however, teach that observers may feel strongly about a discovery but should endeavor to keep those feelings from interfering in the process of discovery.
By way of example, consider a neonate Dragon and his Mentor perched on a fire escape watching the human drama of the streets. (Assume they are both skilled enough to remain hidden from that drama.) As they watch, they see a young woman assaulted by a pair of thugs. The neonate might well feel outraged and wish to intervene, but then he would lose the opportunity to observe the changes in the woman and her assailants. Suppose they murder the woman, for instance. The disposal of her body might provide an interesting object lesson for the Kindred, useful in the nights ahead. If the thugs merely injure or rob her, she might report them to the police. Thenthe Kindred would be able to see an investigation in action, which is also good exposure (or the pupil might see exactly how little the police care). If the vampire jumps into the fray and kills or drives off the attackers, he provides change, as well, but if the neonate has not progressed to the stage of wisely enacting change rather than studiously observing it, he is unlikely to truly appreciate the effects of the changes he sets in motion himself.
Of course, a possible consequence of remaining impassive in the presence of such displays of immorality is a withering of the Man. Some mentors regard this temporary loss of ground to the Beast as an acceptable and inevitable form of change, endemic to the vampiric condition.
The Solitude Paradox
One of the main lessons that Dragons seek to teach their charges, and one that the covenant learned long before Heisenberg expressed it mathematically, is that by observing and measuring something, one also changes it. Observation is interaction, and therefore has an effect on what is being observed, even if that effect is immeasurable. Some mentors never express this truth to their pupils, but praise them when they figure it out for themselves. “Observation is a fact of the Requiem,” the Mentor then explains. Someone isalways watching the Kindred, be it other Kindred, restless spirits or God Himself. The Dragons call this principle the Solitude Paradox — a member of The Ordo Dracul seeks to change herself and must thus turn her focus inward, but must take for granted that she is never truly alone or unnoticed.The Solitude Paradox serves two purposes for the covenant as a whole. First, it drives home the idea that the scientific methods of the covenant and the existence and acknowledgement of God are not mutually exclusive. Second, however, this principle is designed to make Dragons comfortable with the notion that they cannot keep secrets. No matter what they do or discover, The Ordo Dracul will eventually discover it, so it’s better to disclose their findings to someone they know and trust (usually their mentors or other members of their coteries) than to arouse Suspicion by holding on to information for too long.
Skills and Knowledge
Understanding change requires observation, and observation requires a frame of reference. While some Kindred hunt in the cities of their mortal births (or at least, the cities in which they lived until they were Embraced), others undergo the Embrace during travel or otherwisefind themselves in unfamiliar environs. Learningthe geography, history and sometimes even the Language of the area is therefore crucial in understanding any change taking place therein. Likewise, if a Mentor takes a pupil to see Beckett’s Endgame in order to watch the audience for change, that pupil must have some prior appreciation of the play to have a hope of understanding any changes it engenders in the audience.Therefore, during the early nights of a Dragon’s apprenticeship, the Mentor tries to feel out her student for gaps in her schooling or knowledge and fill them. What is considered a gap depends entirely on what the Mentor intends to teach. Not all of the knowledge thus imparted is as limited in scope as theatre of the absurd, of course. Many mentors discover that Kindred Embraced within the past two decades often have poor combat skills, and teach their charges how to fight, stalk and hunt successfully.
Auspex
The proprietary Discipline of the Mekhet, Auspex is essential to the studies of the Dragons. Many Dragons learn at least the basic powers of Auspex before progressing on to The Coils of the Dragon, and some Mekhet mentors make a point of teaching their students how to sharpen their natural senses in order to better observe minute changes. Further progression in the Discipline grants access to greater levels of scrutiny, of course, as well as several Devotions involving the Discipline that the covenant has developed over the years (some of which can be found in Chapter Five).Of course, since most Dragons know this Discipline, and since most new Dragons discover very quickly that other members of the covenant usually know this Discipline, Dragons become masters of communicating without making a sound. Gestures, facial expressions and other non-verbal cues are quite useful when someone standing out of mortal earshot can still hear a whisper. Other Dragons compensate for this by learning uncommon or dead languages.
Greater Precision
After a Dragon has learned to observe without judgment, her Mentor typically ups the stakes a bit by allowing the Dragon access to the methods of measuring and observing the world beyond the five mortal senses. The Auspex Discipline, as discussed above, is one possibility, but more mundane methods exist as sense Wyrm’s Nests takes time and practice).Because so many ways of measuring the world exist, the methods of measurement and the specific results obtained aren’t the most important lesson here. The lesson is that all change can be measured, even spiritual change, if one has the proper tools and knowledge. How “evil” or “godly” a mortal or vampire is should be measurable as well. Doing so only requires a method of measurement and an appropriate scale — that not all methods are currently available to the Order is irrelevant to the philosophy.
This revelation frightens many young vampires, especially when they reflect on how far they have fallen since their Embrace. But that is precisely the point — the Dragons are reminded, as with the Solitude Paradox, that by measuring the world they must themselves be subject to measurement, and should be ready to accept that. This precept isn’t necessarily a spiritual one (the Dragons long ago realized that the notion of doing unto others as they would have others do unto them was a death wish), but a realistic and scientific one. In order to change, they must understand their current situation and be able to recognize when something has changed. Another related lesson is one that any scientist knows: absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. If a Dragon observes no change in a subject (even herself), this does not mean no change has occurred, but only that she has not observed it. The favored students of The Ordo Dracul are the ones who take the least for granted, and remain open to all possibilities when considering change.
Enacting Change
Once a Dragon has learned to observe change reliably without interfering, her Ordo Dracul mentors will allow her to enact change. Different mentors have different ideas about whether it is best to allow Dragons to begin by changing the world around them or to focus on changing themselves first.Changing the world is a daunting proposition, but that’s why the early stages of training are designed to help Dragons gain some perspective. Deliberately enacting a change on a grand scale is difficult, and tracking the ripples such a change causes even more so. Even minute changes have far-reaching effects, however, and so mentors typically instruct their students to take some action not easily traceable to a particular being and then follow the chain of events. For instance, a vampire might sabotage a stoplight, causing a car accident. The Kindred then waits as the police arrive (and paramedics, if necessary), the mortals glower at each other, the cars are towed away, and so on. The Kindred now chooses one of the mortals involved and follows him to see how this change of “fate” has impacted his life. The target could be one of the mortals involved in the accident itself, one of the cops, the worker driving the tow truck or even a witness. (If a student coterie is involved, they might each choose a subject and then later compare notes.)
Some very thorough Dragons choose one mortal in the beginning of the evening and arrange the events to involve him, watching carefully to seehis reactions to the calamities in his life. (Sometimes Dragons arrange for positive changes, but it’s widely believed in the covenant that tragedy causes more educational changes.) Sometimes the Dragon only watches the mortal at night, reasoning that what happens during the day is out of the Kindred’s purview. Other, more ambitious members of the covenant believe that this sort of thinking isn’t at all conducive to transcendence and arrange for Ghouls or other servants to watch their target while the Kindred slumbers.
Following the Dragons Tail
A teaching technique that has become popular as mortal populations increase, Following the Dragon’s Tail is meant to illustrate that no change happens in a vacuum. The Mentor accompanies her student on a hunt, and instructs her to kill one mortal in the course of feeding (not usually a problem, especially if the student has taken well to her studies). The Mentor then instructs her to follow the innumerable chains of events that death causes. Who does the mortal leave behind? What does her obituary say? Does anyone mourn her? Who shows up at her funeral? Does a police investigation ensue? How much effort do the police put into it? Do other vampires become involved? Reportedly, the first Kindred of the Order to enact this lesson still follows the effects that the murder he committed had on mortal society… more than 200 years later. In less formal terms, a member of The Ordo Dracul said to be “following the dragon’s tail” takes care of loose ends, or plots some scheme and attempts to predict results for every stage of the plan.As mentioned in Vampire: The Requiem, one of common lessons in enacting change involves killing a single mortal and thenfollowing the chain of events his death causes.This lesson has many variations, however, depending on the Mentor and student in question.
A Mentor might assign a coterie to kill one mortal, and then “follow the dragon’s tail,” noting as many changes and reactions as possible. Several Kindred being involved allows the students to check each other’s findings, pursue avenues of investigation not open to a lone vampire and, if necessary, protect one another from retribution.
Another lesson suitable for a coterie of Dragons is sometimes called the Counting the Dragon’s Scales. In this rare exercise, the coterie kills a mortal, and focuses tightly on the effects of that death for a predetermined amount of time (usually one month). Then, two members of the coterie commit similar murders, at the same time but in different parts of the city. Again, the coterie observes for one month. This continues until finally each member of the coterie commits a murder at the same time and in the same manner, in locations scattered around the city, or until the threat to the Masquerade becomes too great, whichever comes first. The coterie — and usually any other Dragons in the city (most mentors consider this experiment too interesting to miss) — watches the city carefully.
What mythology springs up about the deaths? Do they appear to be accidents or murders? Do the city officials bring in special federal agents to help solve it? Where is the panic most concentrated in comparison to where most of the deaths took place? Obviously, Counting the Dragon’s Scales only works well in cities in which The Ordo Dracul holds a great deal of power. Attempting it in other cities usually brings down swift retribution, unless the coterie is careful to remove any trace of vampiric activity. Even then, the students remember their early lessons — anything can be measured, if one knows how.
If the Kindred belong to a coterie that includes members of other covenants, the Mentor usually instructs the Kindred to pay special attention to the effect the death has on them. Depending on the particulars of the death, the other Kindred’s superiors in their covenants might hear of it and call for a cessation of hunting in that area or a search for the vampire in question, but it might just pass beneath their notice. If the Dragon kills the mortal while in sight of the others, she has the opportunity to record their reactions to the death, and then perhaps kill some time later and see if those reactions are any different.
Mentors aren’t above using this “experiment” as a way to play politics, of course. An older Dragon in a city where (for example) The Invictus holds power might instruct her charge to kill a mortal in a manner that endangers the Masquerade and in a location that implicates a member of the ruling covenant. The neonate is then instructed to observe the effect that murder has on mortal society, while the Mentor watches the Danse Macabre for changes resulting from the act. She rarely informs her pupil of her intentions, of course, for fear of tainting the experiment. If the city’s Kindred trace the crime back to the student, the experience serves as a test of the student’s loyalty.
The Purpose of Change
A principle that mentors occasionally reference at all points of a Dragon’s training — but comes into sharp relief as the student enters the phase of enacting change upon the world — is that change must always have a purpose. Even when Following the Dragon’s Tail or engaging in similar instructive exercises, Ordo Dracul teachers caution their students to remember that change with no purpose is chaos, and chaos is the woodland of the Beast. Murdering someone just to watch the ripples his ended life creates might have no further purpose beyond its teaching value, and that’s fine, but if those ripples aren’t followed and appreciated, the death is pointless.Note, too, that most Dragons don’t engage in a great deal of existentialist discussions when discussing the purpose of change. Change must have a purpose to them, not in some grandiose cosmic scheme. A hurricane destroying buildings is pointless chaos — as the Order cannot control — but the Order can benefit from the changes that follow in its wake. A vampire lost to the Beast is likewise a random element in the world, beyond the careful designs of The Ordo Dracul.
In every action a Dragon takes, she is advised to consider her desired goal. Short-sighted goals aren’t necessarily discouraged — sometimes, satisfaction of vengeance or lust is all one really needs for a while. Mentors do require that their charges acknowledge such goals for what they are, however, rather than cloaking a desire to slay a rival in any self-righteous blather about slaying a degenerate Kindred or doing God’s will. The Ordo Dracul knows God’s will — God tests the Kindred, and the Dragons test Him in turn.
Acts of God
A lively debate among the Dragons, particularly those of a more theosophist bent, is how much to look for the hand of God in otherwise random-seeming events. Natural disasters such as the aforementioned hurricane is one possibility, but riots, shooting sprees, strange election results and other events that no one could have logically predicted also fall into the category of what The Ordo Dracul considers “acts of God.” Ordo Dracul scholars search for meaning in this seemingchaos, trying to determine if such events are truly random or the result of mundane weather patterns or insanity, or if the Creator is still taking a direct hand with the world. Each possibility has implications for The Ordo Dracul.When searching for meaning in acts of God, the first question Dragons ask is cui bono — who profits? A hurricane is damaging to everyone it touches, but suppose it destroys the Haven of a particularly diabolical Kindred and his childer, paving the way for more reasonable vampires (say, of the Ordo Dracul) to take his domains? A shooting spree might kill good people but might also slay someone who, in his private life, was a closet occultist or scholar who might have had something to teach The Ordo Dracul. Follow every tragedy long enough and it will lead to a boon for someone.
In every change of the world, the Dragons must consider whether the change affects them — and whether it was meant to.
The Great Work
A Dragon who firmly grasps The Ordo Dracul’s philosophy of change and embraces both its practical and metaphysical principles is prepared to embark upon the covenant’s most important undertaking: transcending the Kindred condition. Most often referred to as the Great Work in order to distinguish it from less portentous investigations or Lesser Works, the Dragons’ quest for transcendence has much in common with the aim of the medieval alchemists. The common man of that period believed the alchemists sought to turn base metals into pure gold via something known as the Philosopher’s Stone, a kind of universal solvent. Alchemical experiments were not only incomprehensible to the uninitiated, but they were also deemed to be borderline blasphemy. Critics believed that God had not intended for man to be able to transform the basic Materials of Creation for selfish purposes and, therefore, any mestruum universale, if discovered, was perceived to be the work of the Devil.The alchemists saw their efforts in an entirely different light. To them, the Philosopher’s Stone was not simply a precious metal of economic import but a substance capable of curing illness, restoring youth and even prolonging life indefinitely. While they had no proof that the Philosopher’s Stone existed, they were convinced that it did. In fact, they were certain that God had hidden it so that only those truly worthy to possess it might do so. As might be expected, the alchemists felt that by dint of their rare knowledge of natural philosophy and their disciplined methodology, they were the only people worthy of discovering and using the grail they sought. Through effort and unwavering dedication, they were sure that the Philosopher’s Stone and all it promised would be theirs.
The Dragons, too, have their Philosopher’s Stone, but outside The Ordo Dracul its true nature is rarely understood. Most Kindred believe that the Dragons seek merely to transcend the curses of the Kindred condition: hunger, frenzy and the agonies of flame and daylight. By doing so, the Dragons will be able to enjoy the benefits of undeath without the suffering. From the perspective of most vampires, this seems purpose enough. Of course, because the Dragons do not share their discoveries with outsiders, they are also seen as selfish and notably dangerous. Freed of the pains and limitations of undeath, they would make formidable opponents.
This kind of reasoning leads some to suspect that The Ordo Dracul’s true goal is political in nature — that one night the Dragons will make their move in the Danse Macabre and thereby seize power for themselves in a way that the most cunning Prince cannot foresee. Those who still crave Vitae, fall to frenzy and are forced to flee the touch of sunlight would stand little chance against such conquerors. Other, more religious Kindred are concerned not so much with the political implications of the Dragon’s activities as with the theological ones. Many Sanctified see the Coils as proof that The Ordo Dracul is nothing less than a nest of witches and foul sorcerers whose real intent is to defy God’s judgment. The Almighty did not intend damnation to be an easy thing to bear; every attempt the Dragons make to lessen or eliminate one of the telltale banes of the Damned is another slap in the face of God.
The Great Work is about more than vampires inoculating themselves against the drawbacks that come with their accursed condition. It is about unlocking the very door of undeath itself, wrenching it wide open and plunging beyond into another state of existence. Thecovenant’s philosophies, its organization and methodologies, and even the Coils are but the tools and products of this unprecedented quest. To complete the Great Work, to transcend the Kindred condition, is to become a veritable god among all creatures that walk the earth, living or unliving. Precisely what the Dragons will become when that happens remains a thing of great debate within the Order, but all are convinced that they will become something that is superior in every regard to animals, mortals and Kindred alike.
Nature of the Curse
Before one can set out on a journey, two things must first be known: where does the journey begin and where does it end. The Ordo Dracul’s Great Work ends when the Dragons have transcended the curse of vampirism and passed beyond the suffering that defines the Requiem. However, until they understand where they are to begin, the journey cannot take place. The beginning for the Dragons is vampirism itself, from the moment of the Embrace, when mortality slips away and undeath settles in to take its place. More to the point, no Dragon can progress along the path leading through the Coils to transcendence unless she first has a solid conception of the Kindred condition. Certainly, vampires are quite different from the kine in many ways, but it is not enough to just say so. A Dragon must become fully conversant with her condition, knowing her strengths and, even more importantly, her weaknesses. She must examine herself, test herself, and determine with exacting certitude what she is and what she is not. Each flaw she identifies must be studied both in isolation and again as a part of the whole if it is to be surmounted. To Ignore these things, to not recognize the importance of this, is to ensure that greater achievement will forever be beyond the Dragon’s reach.If the Great Work is a sturdy door, then it is secured with locks that must be defeated before it can be opened. Dracula himself identified these locks, classifying all the banes of Kindred existence into three fundamental curses in order that they might be more easily understood and vanquished.
God and Damnation
Reconciling the existence of God with the tale of how Dracula was damned for his sins by the skepticism that is a hallmark of an academic is not an easy thing. An academic’s mindset demands evidentiary phenomena, which flies in the face of raw faith. However, Dracula claimed he was specifically damned by God for his sins against the Almighty. Denying God and His role in the creation of vampires would all but declare the First Dragon a liar. As a consequence, most Dragons at least pay lip service to God, acknowledging that He is at least complicit in their damnation and therefore deserves a modicum of due respect. This is not to suggest that the Dragons adore or worship God, but only that they generally recognize His power and treat it with the same caution they would a fiery brand. They study God and His works, but more for the sake of curiosity than reverence.Acknowledging the existence of the biblical God suits many Dragons. Dracula’s own words bear out just such a notion, and it succinctly solves the riddle of the Kindred condition: they are the Damned, cursed by God for the sins of the individual and of Humanity as a whole. Dragons who accept this definition of God don’t typically buy into Longinian philosophy, of course, but they do maintain a particular reverence for the divine. God may have turned His back on them, but He’s still there and He sees all.
An even more popular conception of God among the Order is the Gnostic approach, in which God is somewhat more abstract, albeit no less central. Knowledge is seen as the supreme spark of divinity, and, with it, one can literally transcend one sphere of existence and enter another, higher one. However, denied this divine gnosis on account of some spiritual failing, the Kindred are unable to die and, therefore, damned to remain in this sphere forever, never passing on to the next. Gnostic types value knowledge over everything else and see that the only escape from the Requiem lies in learning all they can.
The Theosophical Movement influenced a number of prominent Dragon scholars and continues to color the thinking of the Order tonight. To the theosophists, God is transformed into something wholly abstract and becomes the Universal Spirit or Prime Mover. Damnation is a form of karmic justice that is not caused by God in a direct sense, but is more the necessary consequence of the cosmic Law of Retribution.
While these are the most widespread beliefs, numerous less common views are also held, from the esoteric and numerological to the more freakish and even sinister. Officially, the covenant takes no position, except to point to the Rites of the Dragon and the words of their founder recorded therein. Knowing the true origin of the Kindred may be interesting, but the practical nature of The Ordo Dracul also makes it less than essential to the Great Work. So long as the Dragons can transcend their condition, the matter is just as valuable as an eternal, driving mystery as it might be if answered.
Craving
From the moment of the Embrace, every Kindred becomes plagued with an unceasing desire for blood that grows only more difficult to satisfy with age. The weak blood of a dog or ox may quench this hunger at first, but soon only the lifeblood stolen from the kine becomes palatable. With the passage of years, even this becomes unsuitable and only the rich Vitae of other vampires is able to quell the all-consuming craving — but only for a time. With each sunset and with every significant exertion, the demands of the Addiction call out for satiation once again. Only the most disciplined Kindred can resist submitting to this terrible thirst for more than a brief time; however, in the end, all eventually give in, no matter how strong-willed.Dracula theorized that this craving for blood was indicative of the incomplete state of undeath. A complete being would not suffer in this piteous fashion. Such a being might take blood if it so desired — to enhance its capabilities or for the sheer joy of the sensation — but it would not need to do so to survive. However, the Kindred are subordinate to their blood-thirst, so they must be missing some essential component required to be complete.
Those Dragons who pursue The Coil of Blood focus their attention on this imperfection. They seek to replace the need for blood with something else, filling the gnawing void with something that is far less demanding than blood — practically and psychologically. Some Dragons experiment with narcotics, powerful medicines and all manner of potions and elixirs of their own manufacture. Others see that path as a circular one that will only replace one Addiction with another. Instead, they take a more holistic view and seek to use intellectual pursuits, Meditation and even self-hypnosis to quell their bloodlust. A few turn to even more esoteric solutions, hopeful that their incompleteness can be resolved by enacting a restorative ritual or concluding a complex procedure. Whatever the modus operandi, success will make the Dragon complete, removing her dependence upon external things and freeing her from perhaps the strongest of the chains that prohibits her from transcending the Kindred condition.
Stagnation
Dracula believed that the agony vampires experienced at the slightest touch of sunlight or flame was because of the largely unchanging nature of undeath. The Kindred do not age, they do not die, and they do not grow or find it easy to alter their enduring form in any real way. The reason is, Dracula argues in the Rites, that all these things are the province of the living. The sun encourages life and fire destroys, but only to promote renewal. The cycle of the life is one of constant and unstoppable change, but the Kindred are barely able to make progress along that cyclic path; when they do, it is only as the result of great effort. Even the act of procreation is a formidable one that saps the sire physically and mentally. The Dragons recognize that stagnation is a significant impediment to the Great Work, one that can only be defeated by pushing themselves to change as frequently as possible, even if only in small ways. If they push hard enough, they feel they can overcome the friction of undeath and build up enough inertia to eventually keep the cycle of change going of its own accord, without strenuous intervention. When this happens, fire and sunlight will be rendered benign rather than the malignant banes they are now.Dragons tend to be some of the most deviant Kindred not only in terms of their philosophies, but also their appearance and mannerisms. As they study The Coil of Banes and work to wrench themselves from their stagnant condition, they use their own flesh As One means to achieve their end. Tattoos, piercings, scarification and other physical alterations are popular tonight, with many students going to horrific extremes. Self-mutilation followed by rapid Healing is not uncommon, a practice believed to “teach” the Kindred’s body how to quickly and repeatedly change. Physical change is often accompanied by a change in wardrobe. If the expression “the clothes make the man” holds any truth, then a radical departure from usual dress can aid the Dragon in modifying her one sense of self-identity. This belief is institutionalized in the garb donned for Order ceremonies. Upon attaining a new title or responsibility within the covenant, a Dragon is sometimes given a new set of clothing to not only symbolize to others the change in Status but also to better help the just-promoted Dragon see herself as a truly different individual.
This philosophy extends beyond mere attire. Dragons often purposefully examine their habits, their speech patterns and even their smallest mannerisms, from habitual gestures to gait and posture. Like an actor taking on a role, they then work to eliminate or notably modify some or all of these things, becoming quite different in the process. Other Kindred may find this kind of metamorphosis disturbing, and many suspect it is a symptom of mental instability, not understanding that it is an intentional change manifested for a very specific purpose. Dragons who hold influential and highly visible positions in the domain can cause great stirs when they undertake this kind of makeover, but politics and social gossip are insignificant when compared to the Great Work.
Unreason
Inside each vampire is a Beast, the monster that makes the Kindred the superlative predators they are and, in times of trouble, ensures their survival and victory over all threats. Primal and instinctual, the Beast is the one who ensures a steady supply of blood and defines the vampire as distinct from the kine. However, the Kindred are not just feral hunters whose entire existence is focused on hunting, feeding, fighting and sleeping. Because every vampire was once a mortal, the Man survives alongside the Beast that arises with the first pangs of the Embrace. All the memories, beliefs, preferences, desires, needs and fears remain and must struggle every single night for supremacy against the bestial urges that frequently oppose them. This mental strife colors every moment of the Requiem, causing a silver-tongued ancilla of one moment to become a snarling fiend the next.The Kindred are condemned to spend eternity engaged in this exhausting battle, knowing that even if the Man is able to claim victory for the most part, the Beast can never be fully destroyed. Time and time again it will surge to the fore, overrunning the Man and doing as it pleases with no regard to the concerns of the vampire’s more human side. Consequently, the Kindred often seem to be unreasoning creatures, sabotaging their own best laid plans. Experience has also shown that as the years pass, this siege takes its toll on the Man, who increasingly collapses under the strain. For some Kindred, the effort becomes entirely too much, and their animal passions finally strike a fatal blow to the last vestiges of the Man. These Kindred become revenants, ghastly reminders of what lurks within the breast of every vampire: a Beast always seeking to claw its bloody way to the surface despite every attempt to push it back into its cage.
To any thinker, the curse of an unreasoning mind is an unwelcome thought — to those who hold scholarship and intellectual achievement to be the highest purpose, it is the height of damnation. To conduct productive investigations to further the Great Work, a Dragon must be able to think clearly, to rely upon deductive conclusions, and to make keen observations untainted by strong biases and distractions. To overcome the curse of unreason the Beast must be chained at a minimum, but ultimately it must be subjugated entirely to the rational mind. Some suggest it should be eliminated entirely, that what the Dragons one night can become will no longer have any need for “fight or flight” instincts. Some approaches tend to mimic those used for mastering wildlife. Outright cruelty, Pavlovian techniques and empathetic bonding are commonplace. The Coil of the Beast demonstrates the effectiveness of these procedures, enabling the Dragons to shackle their primitive instincts in a way that gives the Man the greatest amount of control possible, even as it benefits from the presence of the domesticated Beast.
Methodology
The majority of Dragons concur that the Great Work can only be successfully realized if the method by which it is achieved is as reliable as possible. Adopting an empirical stance, the results of an experiment are only taken as trustworthy if they are consistently reproducible under similar conditions. The knowledge of how to do this should also be easily recorded and transmitted to anyone with a basic understanding of the experiment. Assumptions, faulty Materials, flimsy rationale and procedures reverse engineered in order to produce a certain outcome are verboten to members of The Ordo Dracul. Finally, the Dragons demand phenomenal results, something they can perceive with their natural and Kindred senses. If they cannot observe, measure, record and examine it, it remains only theoretical and useful only for intellectual diversion. In sum, the Dragons apply the scientific method to all their endeavors.Because most Dragons come from a scientific or academic background, this methodology is already ingrained in the covenant’s members. Accolades are awarded to those who dedicate themselves to the strictest definition of the scientific method, double- and triple-checking all their results, repeatedly testing their procedures under all possible circumstances, and working tirelessly to eliminate every subjective or corruptive influence that might lessen the reliability of their findings. Healthy skepticism and productive self-criticism do not go unnoticed in the Order — the best and brightest almost universally display these virtues.
Not every Dragon obeys the principles of the scientific method as fully as her peers, of course. Some become lazy and allow themselves a little flexibility, at times sacrificing methodology to expediency. Minor Flaws and lapses are usually tolerated, especially when the work is of a mostly personal nature that is not going to be subject to the scrutiny of a critical Mentor or the review of others. Flagrant disregard for scientific orthodoxy is another matter altogether and is seldom tolerated except in domains where the covenant’s presence is small, or the covenant is rife with internal strife and ruthless competition. Ignoring the proper methodological guidelines leads to irreproducible results and the very real possibility of harm — not only to the reckless Dragon, but to The Ordo Dracul overall. A vampire does not play haphazardly with fire, and some of the things the Dragons subject to experimentation can be far more dangerous than fire.
The maxim that there are many ways to skin a cat is one The Ordo Dracul ardently embraces. If the end result is achieved, the method by which it was obtained is relatively insignificant, so long as it is rigorous and proven scientifically reliable. Clinging stubbornly to one approach and refusing to consider others is not only short-sighted, but usually detrimental to success. However speedily progress is being made, a Dragon must always ask whether there might be a more efficacious way to pursue her goal.
This concept is an essential one for every fledgling Dragon to grasp and remember. The straight path may appear the most direct, but it is often littered with obstacles that will make further progress difficult if not altogether impossible. The crooked path, on the other hand, allows the Dragon to change course whenever obstacles are encountered, to select an alternative way to proceed despite any seeming incompatibility with past methods. This conviction colors everything about the Dragons and is the ethical touchstone upon which all other things are judged. To The Ordo Dracul, the ends always justify the means.
The history of The Ordo Dracul and the variety of experiences its members bring with them have opened the door to almost as many approaches to the covenant’s scientific pursuits as there are Dragons. An Initiate in Berlin might employ a scientific methodology that relies heavily on Darwinian and Malthusian theory, Gray’s anatomical explorations and modern gene therapy. Another Dragon in Los Angeles might put her trust in Tesla’s principles of electromagnetism, Mesmeric technique and studies that propose a strong correlation between earthly resonance and psychic ability. A third practitioner might delve into the phenomenon of spiritual manifestations and ectoplasmic emanations, hoping to wrest some secret from those who have already passed beyond undeath into the lands of shadow. A fourth Dragon might rely upon the power inherent in words and numbers, using complex phonic and mathematical formulae to unearth truths that would cause a sane man to tremble at their implications. So long as the tenets of the scientific method are observed, there is no limit to what the Dragons might utilize to achieve their aims.
See “Schools of Methodology” on p. 118 for details about the various ways the Dragons approach the Great Work.
A Secret Society
More than the just a fraternity of like-minded scholastics and occultists, The Ordo Dracul is a formal society established by Vlad Tepes to encourage and support its membership in their endeavors, to protect their persons and the knowledge and Resources they possess, and to advance the cause of the Great Work in every way possible. As with numerous similar mortal societies, The Ordo Dracul places heavy emphasis on Oathbound secrecy; strict, if not crushing, obedience to those who know best; and adherence to established methodologies intended to ensure that the Dragons’ activities produce the best results and do not endanger the covenant.However, first and foremost it is still a brotherhood of academics who find fulfillment in each other’s company — or at least a welcome reprieve from the oft-times grueling demands of the Requiem. This is frequently forgotten by the Dragons as their substantial intellects are all too capable of exploiting the Order’s complex hierarchy, myriad laws and the power they have at the ready to not do so. Those who are able to retain a clear sense of the covenant’s fundamental purpose are usually the same Kindred who are able to maintain their own Humanity, while those too easily swayed by the worst of their predatory instincts tend to miss the forest for the trees and are far more ruthless politicians and taskmasters than pedantic scholars. The Ordo Dracul counts each kind of Dragon among its membership.
The Academy
Every secret society is organized along lines that typically embrace and bolster the very purpose and activity of its members, as well as conforming to the strength of its numbers. An Academy — the collective term for all Dragons in a given domain — in a small Slovakian industrial town, for instance, is not going to organize itself or function in the same fashion as another in a vast English metropolis. Each will certainly adopt similar approaches to constituting itself, borrowing heavily from the practices of other Academies its founding members are familiar with. However, the Slovakian Dragons may not recognize all the same titles as the Dragons in London, choosing to consolidate some, eliminate others and even create new ones appropriate to their circumstances. Over time, this need for different types of Academies has led to the creation of various “Draconic Rites” (not to be confused with the similarly named document). Each is distinctly different, yet each remains true to the vision of Dracula and is viewed by the other Rites as no less authentic a version of The Ordo Dracul than itself; circumstance demands change and no Dragon would argue that. For more on Rites see p.68.)No matter where The Ordo Dracul lairs are or what forms they take, there are more similarities than differences. Every Academy places great significance upon which secrets it parcels out to its members and what degree of authority it will grant them. The Ordo Dracul may not have as many degrees as the Scottish Rite of Freemasonry, but what it lacks in stratification it makes up for in the kinds of secrets its ranking members are privy to. At least from the perspective of another Kindred, the ability to go without blood or to walk unharmed in daylight are beyond all valuation, and these are just some of the things the most accomplished Dragons are familiar with. Less august members of the covenant may not have access to such knowledge and the power it represents, but they are nonetheless rewarded richly for their services to the covenant. Even the lowliest student has an understanding of truths that would shake up Kindred society if they were known by outsiders. With each advance in The Ordo Dracul, a Dragon is also granted greater authority — over knowledge, artifacts or other Dragons. Being able to decide who will be told what secrets, who can borrow a certain tome, or who can come and go is very real power. Responsibility comes with the mantle of authority, however. The Dragon entrusted with a certain secret who accidentally lets it slip to someone deemed unworthy is ultimately responsible for anything and everything that happens as a consequence.
Chapter Houses
The Ordo Dracul’s activities require not only keen eyes, brilliant minds and able hands, but also privacy, Equipment and security — both to deny intruders and to contain mistakes that can and do result from the myriad experiments the Dragons routinely conduct in the name of the Great Work. Some of the covenant’s members rely on their private havens to provide them these things, but most Kindred are not flush with the kind of money needed to provide the proper Haven. Performing a dangerous ritual in a basement apartment is not recommended, and even an ordinary home is not outfitted for the kinds of scientific Equipment and precautionary measures required by the work of many Dragons.A chapter house is essentially a dwelling or other structure that is large enough and otherwise well-suited to provide the city’s Dragons a place to gather, secure their valuables, conduct their Research and spend the day if necessary. Similar to Masonic lodges or granges, chapter houses provide The Ordo Dracul the secrecy it craves as well as a sense of community acceptable to even the most xenophobic Dragons. Most domains house only one chapter house, but large cities may have a few situated in a way that provides either geographic convenience or exploits the nature of the area’s ley lines. Few are actually established on an actual Wyrm’s Nest, however; doing so invites too much unwanted attention from a variety of possible threats, and a dozen years later that node could shift, leaving the chapter house high and dry. Where multiple chapter houses exist, one is deemed the Grand Chapter House while the others are named for their location. Technically, a Dragon’s Haven can be termed a chapter house, but unless the place is large, the conceit is usually dropped.
Old churches, academic buildings and even archaic private residences built in the heyday of gargantuan Gothic mansions are most frequently converted for use as a chapter house; some pretend publicly to still serve their former function, but most simply pose as private clubs or societies. A close inspection of many of these properties might reveal a host of indications of their true use; that is, that they serve as places of unorthodox study or interest. Incorporation of astrological, occult, mystical and just plain unusual architectural elements are common, and many chapter houses are specially chosen or renovated in order to take advantage of the local ley lines or other mystical points or directions. The interiors are usually reminiscent of both Victorian gentlemen’s clubs and occult laboratories, and all set aside a large proportion of space for the Academy’s library. Security may be archaic or state-ofthe- art — or a mixture of both. The Castellan usually uses the chapter house as her Haven, but, space providing, any other Dragon may join her. Many neonates, yet unable to outfit their own secure Haven, take advantage of this. Given their relatively lowly Status, however, they usually find their sleeping arrangements spartan, if not cramped. At least one Guardian is also in the habit of spending the day in the chapter house, in case of trouble.
Despite The Ordo Dracul’s emphasis on security and secrecy, it is not uncommon for an Academy to open its doors to at least some of the more prominent — or selectively important — Kindred in the city on occasion. The intent is partly to quell Suspicion of grand conspiracies and Devil worship, but it is also in part to tease the guests by allowing them a glimpse of some of the treasures the covenant possesses. A momentary glimpse of the chapter house’s vast library, for instance, can generate a lust for access within a Primogen that can later be used to negotiate some important matter in the Dragons’ favor. It need not be said, but during such visits every precaution is taken to hide truly important assets and to ensure the guests penetrate only those areas cleared for their perusal. Given the Disciplines that such visitors may possess, this is not often an easy thing to do.
Mentor and Protégé
No relationship better defines The Ordo Dracul than that which exists between a Mentor and her protégé. At its very core the covenant is a practical school, and every member is both student and teacher, each striving towards the same end. It is the duty of the student to be respectful of her Mentor, to listen to her words and observe her actions, and to learn something from the experience. The Mentor’s role is to act in a way deserving of respect, to show the student something enlightening and explain it in a way that will ensure that the lesson will be learned. Even in places where the covenant is informal and few titles are necessary, the relationship between Mentor and protégé will endure and the quality of that relationship will define the very nature of The Ordo Dracul. In large metropolises where the number of Dragons may be in the dozens and the covenant’s hierarchy is complex, even the elder Illuminus, seemingly so far removed from most matters, is still a Mentor before all else, duty-bound to pass on what she knows to other, worthy Dragons.It is most common for a Dragon to have a single Mentor, usually, but not always, an older vampire who possesses a greater wealth of knowledge of the Coils and the Great Work in general. The Mentor typically chooses her protégé or protégés, but sometimes a more senior Dragon may direct the choice, especially if the candidate seeking a Mentor has political value. Once the relationship is established, it can last for decades and even centuries. Most end because the student has learned as much as she can from her Mentor, and the two often maintain a cordial peer relationship. Sometimes, one or both displeases the other in such a fashion that the relationship is severed entirely; the ill will that results can become the basis for a rivalry that has the potential to tear the covenant apart if allowed to fester for too long. Where a Mentor accepts more than one protégé, the competition between them can grow just as fierce, with each seeking to become the primary or even sole protégé. This kind of personal infighting can also cause a great deal of unrest that can ultimately hamper The Ordo Dracul’s aims.
Few formalities exist in the mentor-protégé relationship, unless the Mentor feels it necessary. Lessons can take nearly any form, from private lectures and study assignments to more public discussion and dialectic. Most protégés are also expected to attend to their Mentor regularly, to observe all she does and says, and to demonstrate an understanding of the lesson. Protégés are always being tested, also. A good Mentor questions she own biases towards she protégé and will regularly seek ways to quantifiably measure the student’s progress. Not only does this improve the Mentor’s ability to educate she protégé, but it can improve the Mentor’s standing in the covenant. A talented protégé reflects well upon the Mentor, just as an incompetent one can tarnish she reputation. Mentors are always eying the accomplishments of their peers’ protégés in order to size up the competition. Outsiders may believe that The Ordo Dracul is merely a collective of scholars too concerned with their studies to involve themselves in politicking, but the rivalries that exist in the covenant can be as ambitious, fearsome and devious as anything in the Danse Macabre, making many Dragons skilled political manipulators.
Finally, it has become common practice for a Dragon to demonstrate her appreciation for her Mentor, usually on an annual basis — but sometimes after she has accomplished a great thing that would have been impossible without proper mentoring. She might present her Mentor a suitable gift, such as a written work she has been unable to procure for many months, or something less practical, yet no less appreciative, like a rare painting by the Mentor’s favorite artist that she can hang in her Haven. Dragons may be more hidebound than most Kindred, but they aren’t blind to the value of things unrelated to their studies. Often a protégé instead chooses to honor her Mentor by providing her clear evidence of her accomplishments. She might challenge her Mentor to a game of Go that requires her full attentiveness throughout the day, showing her her mastery of The Coil of Banes or she might decide to handle fire in a way that by rights should send her into Rötschreck even as she remains placid. Regardless of the manner in which she displays her thanks and respect, it is, as they say, the thought that counts. A protégé who brown-noses too much is still less worthy in the eyes of most mentors than one who excels as a student, even if she may not observe this custom with as much regularity or zeal.
Dragon's Tongue
A forked line of progression, the Dragon’s Tongue is the structure through which covenant members progress as they learn more secrets and master greater aspects of their condition. While comprehension of the hierarchy by those outside the covenant is cloudy at best, it appears that all members follow a single path of progression up until a certain point, after which the member chooses a specialty to follow. Various members of the covenant lay claim to numerous titles, but whether these are actual functions and responsibilities or mere honorifics has yet to be ascertained by outsiders. The Dragon’s Tongue is an oblique concept. It is distinct from The Coils of the Dragon, but knowing The Coils of the Dragon seems to be requisite for advancement in the Dragon’s Tongue. In layman’s terms, the Dragon’s Tongue seems to roughly equate to rank while The Coils of the Dragon are similar to capability or potential.The most recognized achievement in The Ordo Dracul is mastery of The Coils of the Dragon. Given that every Dragon pursues the same Great Work — even if they dedicate more time to other, Lesser Works — and the Coils are proof of further progress towards that goal, only the most loutish Dragons do not feel respect for a fellow Dragon who has surpassed them in this sphere. However, the covenant has concerns that often must come before the meritorious achievements of its membership, no matter how impressive. For this reason, it is just as often politics, economics, security and personal influence that determine the chain of command within an Academy. What’s more, not every bookish genius is fit to be in charge of a complex organization that faces all sorts of challenges night in and night out.
Therefore, while a Dragon’s esoteric progress is worthy — nay, demanding — of respect, it does not automatically determine one’s rank. This has led the path to political power within the covenant to become known as the Dragon’s Tongue. All Dragons set out on that path by following a similar route, serving and learning from mentors and pursuing The Coils of the Dragon, but before long they will recognize that the path divides, and a host of possible routes to power are available to them. Which route they choose not only determines much about their future role in The Ordo Dracul, but it says even more about the Dragons themselves.
Despite this, the ranks of authority The Ordo Dracul typically recognizes — ranks devised by Dracula himself — are still technically defined by how many Coils one has learned. This is usually interpreted only as a suggested guideline. Also, because it is so difficult to prove whether a certain Dragon has or has not demonstrated sufficient mastery of a particular Coil, many Dragons are promoted to ranks they would never deserve if Dracula’s original criteria were still used. Some of these individuals are outright pretenders, lying about their capabilities in order to a better position themselves for promotion. Rarely are such shysters punished by revocation of rank, in part because the Coils are no longer a requirement, but also because it would likely result in too much turmoil for the entire Academy. In addition, the pretender might actually be well-suited for her new duties, even if her mystical talents are lacking. When it comes down to this, most Dragons show themselves to be pragmatists.
In addition to a Dragon’s rank, the covenant recognizes the particular direction a Dragon takes as her work progresses. Called a domain, it announces the Coil the Dragon is most expert in. Domains are seen by many to be a key to a Dragon’s nature that provides further insight beyond what the Tarot can offer. More than simple decorative titles, they are treated as important by most Dragons. In much the same way as some people impart great meaning to one’s astrological sign and make decisions based upon that, the Dragons tend to cede the same kind of significance to the domains. Duties assigned to an Initiate of Hunger will likely be different than those given to another Initiate whose domain is of the Curse; each is seen to have its own strengths and weaknesses and decisions are made accordingly whenever practical.
Many Academies also recognize the use of so-called “decorations,” descriptive flourishes added to a Dragon’s title to emphasize things like the subject’s second-most favored Coil, her Mentor’s rank and even clan or bloodline. Each Academy has its own precise rules for use of these heraldic devices, and, while many are common, many more are unique to the particular domain. In London, a Master of the Curse who also is quite accomplished in The Coil of the Beast is called an Untamed Master of the Curse — in Los Angeles, a Dragon of similar rank and achievement is a Master of the Furious Curse.
Geography and Rites
In the last four centuries, The Ordo Dracul has spread its wings wide, its shadow reaching far across the globe and touching most regions where blood and mystical power are found. The covenant may have its origins in the craggy mountain passes of Transylvania and the fog-shrouded cobblestones of London, but tonightDragons pursue the Great Work in places as far-flung as a secluded mansion in a Los Angeles canyon, a crumbling church in the slums of Buenos Aires, an underground cave complex in the heart of Calcutta and a high-security penthouse soaring above teeming Johannesburg. War, social movements, technological innovation and the unending quest for mystical knowledge have boosted the covenant’s numbers and enabled it to establish a presence most anywhere Kindred claim domain.Despite the covenant’s penchant for orthodoxy in its methods, its laws, its structure and its purpose, its growth invariably resulted in differences of opinion and practice. Most of these were very minor and easily dealt with, but some were more troublesome, and the stubbornness of various Dragons in The Ordo Dracul’s earlier years resulted in deadlocks that could not be reconciled. This could have led to serious fractures in the covenant that might have spelled its doom, but instead the eldest Dragons turned to their roots for a solution. Change could be tolerated so long as it was with purpose, and so, with purpose, the most egregious differences were dealt with by codifying them as various forms or Rites by which the covenant could organize itself. While some animosity remains between the different Rites even still, most are able to work together if necessary for the greater good of The Ordo Dracul. In most domains, a single Rite is represented and determines the nature of the local Academy. In the very largest cities, there may be multiple Rites present, each with its own hierarchy and each acting to a large degree as a separate Academy.
The covenant officially recognizes only a handful of Rites, but other unofficial ones have arisen in localities where considerable differences exist for adoption of a recognized Rite.
Clan Roles in The Ordo Dracul
A vampire doesn’t choose her clan. While it’s possible to draw distinctions between the lineages based on the sort of mortal they choose and the properties that the blood imbues, at the core each vampire is unique. Covenant is a much greater force toward shaping a Kindred than clan, and The Ordo Dracul’s demands of obedience do much to mold its members.That said, we can draw certain conclusions about a vampire based on the combination of her clan and the choice to join the Dragons.
Daeva Dragons
The Succubi who join the covenant often do so looking to reclaim what they have lost. As Daeva are often Embraced out of infatuation (they would say “love”), many of them enter the Requiem passionate and smitten. It tends to go downhill from there. The Requiem kills passion and leaves many Daeva spiritually hollow, but some among the clan have the mental fortitude to seek out The Ordo Dracul in an attempt to change themselves.The problem, of course, is that reclamation is a step back, and that isn’t what The Ordo Dracul is interested in. They wish to move forward, to leave the Requiem behind and discover what transcendental reward awaits. And this often scares the hell out of young Daeva. They watch as Dragons mutilate themselves learning the Coils, spend weeks or months locked away from human or Kindred contact in their Research, and venture out into the night searching for “places of power” in locales that are so far removed from what a Daeva would consider “powerful” that some Succubi start waiting for the punch line.
Daeva do find niches within the covenant, however. As sensualists, they latch on to The Coil of Blood easily, looking for new ways to experience their only true passion. Their social prowess means that they play the part of diplomat well, and when the covenant needs to represent (or misrepresent) itself to the Kindred in power in a new city, their choice envoy is often from this clan. As superb political and social animals, Daeva do well within the vicious obedience-based structure of the covenant, but they also tend to get so wrapped up in manipulating the system that their Research into the Coils stagnates. That said, an Initiate or Adept of this clan might find a place in the clan as a broker of favors or an advisor of sorts — enough Status to be taken seriously, but not enough to be a threat.
The Sworn of the Axe and the Sworn of Mysteries have good numbers of Succubi among them, but the Sworn of the Dying Light receives little of its membership from this clan. This isn’t to say that the Daeva are incapable of understanding and advancing The Coils of the Dragon, simply that many Daeva are Embraced for reasons other than their capacity for lateral thought and ambition.
Gangrel Dragons
For obvious reasons, the Gangrel are the most respected clan in many Ordo Dracul domains. In a covenant built on the precept of change, a clan with the inborn affinity for change naturally garners attention and admiration. Those Kindred who theorize about Dracula’s clan (rather than just accepting that he had none) often place him as a Gangrel.But not everyone in the covenant treats the Savages as royalty. Some Kindred point out that while the Gangrel can change themselves, they change themselves within a prescribed format: first the claws, then the Beast, then the mist. Gangrel may tend to grasp the precepts of the Coils faster than other Kindred (and Savages don’t seem inclined to master any one Coil more easily than the others),but once a Gangrel learns her first Coil the curve tends to fall. The Gangrel, their critics within The Ordo Dracul say, have the lucky happenstance of being shapeshifters, but all that does is give them a brief edge. It doesn’t put them any closer to enlightenment. In fact, as their minds erode as they grow older, it could be argued that their facility is for devolution, rather than change.
The clan has a long and glorious history in the covenant, and their fearsome Moroi bloodline is one of the most dangerous weapons of The Ordo Dracul. All three Orders of the Sworn have Gangrel among their ranks, and their affinity for Protean and the concordant ease of travel they enjoy make them superb Guardians and scouts for Wyrm’s Nests. The Gangrel are, it seems, a backbone of the covenant.
And yet, few Gangrel may seem to ascend to senior leadership roles in The Ordo Dracul. One is more likely to find Savages acting as Kogaions. Gangrel who can look objectively at the covenant and its practices may see that the best word to describe their choice isn’t “essential” but “useful.”
Mekhet Dragons
Like The Ordo Dracul itself, the Mekhet are enigmatic. A Shadow might be a spy, an assassin or simply a vampire who values her privacy. The reasons that members of this clan have for coming to The Ordo Dracul are as varied as the clan itself, but the most common reason is probably that the Mekhet see things.Other vampires are no strangers to the mysteries of the World of Darkness, of course. A Kindred of any clan might run across something that she can’t explain. For the Mekhet, though, their heightened perceptions and propensity for lurking in the hidden places of the world often means that they come face to face with more of the secrets of the domain than any other clan. Mekhet of faith might gravitate toward The Lancea Sanctum or The Circle of the Crone, but those who want answers, or, better yet, the power to do something with their knowledge, seek out a Dragon.
Like the Gangrel, the Mekhet are much prized in the covenant. Unlike the Gangrel, the Shadows probably find positions of leadership much to their liking. Kogaions are more likely to be Mekhet than any other clan, it seems, and many members of the clan wind up as Sworn of Mysteries or Dying Light. Lower-level members of the covenant often seek out coteries that wish to practice the Coils, rather than simply study them, or become Guardians or investigators of Wyrm’s Nests. Shadows seem to have an affinity for The Coil of Banes, though it might be that they simply study this Coil first in an attempt to mitigate their innate vulnerability to light.
Nosferatu Dragons
Someone once joked that the fearsome Nosferatu might join The Ordo Dracul just so they could call themselves “Dragons.” It’s unwise to make such quips within earshot of the Haunts, but it’s not an entirely unfair observation. Much of the Nosferatu identity is bound up in being terrifying, and The Ordo Dracul has a fearsome reputation of its own. Some members of the clan seek the covenant out merely because they wish to inspire fear.Such Nosferatu don’t last long. The Ordo Dracul has no room for meaningless showboats, and older members of the covenant are long past being terrified or even disgusted by a vampire without real power. While any intelligent vampire respects the physical strength and mental power the Haunts can wield, The Ordo Dracul has little interest in fear for fear’s sake.
The Haunts who excel in the covenant are those who realize that they are already set apart from Humanity and most Kindred by dint of their monstrousness. Dracula was a monster, to be sure, but his inhumanity allowed him to do great things and begin the journey toward transcendence. Why does the Nosferatu blood set them apart? Is it a curse, in truth, or the first step on a road to power and greatness?
Within the covenant, Haunts often gravitate toward The Coil of the Beast and the Sworn of the Axe (and occasionally toward the Moroi bloodline, but this indicates a different kind of Kindred). The latter tendency is simple to understand. The Nosferatu naturally possess effective martial prowess (or at least the potential for such). Their propensity for The Coil of the Beast, however, is something of a mystery. The most common theory, however, is that their clan weakness already sets the Beast in sharper relief than in most Kindred. This allows the Nosferatu to better see the Beast and better set herself apart from it.
Another interesting facet of Dragon Haunts is that they often fill the role of Confessor within a coterie. They aren’t necessarily humane, but understand Humanity because they can view it more objectively (or so the thinking goes). Some Nosferatu Confessors consider themselves “sin-eaters,” becoming monsters so that their fellows do not have to. This leads to younger Kindred existing in fear of their Nosferatu comrades, as the Haunts take on the task of killing, sometimes brutally, any mortal that the coterie deems necessary. After all, the Nosferatu might reason, no need for the entire coterie to give ground to the Beast when the Haunt is a monster already.
Ventrue Dragons
The clan of leaders and tyrants, the Ventrue seem a natural fit for a covenant founded by a dictator who claims no sire. For the most part, this is true, but the reasons the Lords have for coming to the covenant vary depending, largely, on the age of the Ventrue.Neonate Ventrue who seek out The Ordo Dracul often do so out of a desire to ingratiate themselves to one of the greatest enigmas of the Requiem. Many Kindred don’t really believe that Dragons can cheat the curse of vampirism — if there was a way to, say, endure sunlight, wouldn’t the rest of Kindred society have seen it by now? Surely The Ordo Dracul is merely a secret society. A powerful one, to be sure, but not hiding anything in the way of arcane secrets. These Ventrue see the Ordo as a ticket to power, an elite club of scholars and possibly influential Kindred leaders. These young Lords are sometimes rather put off by the amount of obedience and servitude, to say nothing of work, that low-status members of the covenant are expected to put in (they’re even called Slaves!). But at the same time, these Kindred discover that the Dragons really do have a claim to power in the Coils, and that the power is there for the taking if the vampire is ambitious enough. Young Venture don’t usually suffer from a dearth of ambition, and so many of them advance in the Coils and in the covenant by sheer determination.
Older Ventrue come to The Ordo Dracul for very different reasons. They seek out the covenant to avoid losing their minds. The Lords can prattle about breeding and noblesse oblige all they like, but the truth is that they grow crazy as they grow older. While all Kindred might go mad with the years, for the Ventrue this madness isn’t a matter of chance, but a matter of time. The Ordo Dracul, supposedly, can help the Kindred mitigate some of the curses of undeath. Perhaps, then, it can help the Lords keep control of their minds?
Relations with the World of Darkness
The Ordo Dracul descends from a vampire who was a tyrant in life and became a leader in undeath. Dracula himself was used to brooking no challenge from rivals, Kindred or otherwise (although according to the Rites of the Dragons, he received quite a rude education in comparative power levels when still a neonate). The Ordo Dracul, for a time, could have become a military power. As the covenant progressed, however, they focused more on their academic goals than any notions of martial prowess, though of course the Sworn of the Axestill remains a force with which to be reckoned.As a primarily scholarly organization, however, they don’t often usurp cities and seize praxis. (At least, they are not perceived of doing so with the frequency of othercovenants.) Instead, they often do what they can to work alongside the Kindred in power, pursuing their own agendas and remaining, for the most part, outside their notice. This doesn’t always work, of course, but The Ordo Dracul has several advantages when dealing with Kindred society and the rest of the World of Darkness that other covenants usually can’t match.
Focus
The Ordo Dracul knows what it wants and focuses on its goals. Furthermore, its goals aren’t as intangible as The Lancea Sanctum’s divine mandate or as ongoing asthe Invictus’ desire for stasis. The Dragons want transcendence, and this means that they have an achievable goal (at least, they think it can be achieved) rather than a situation to maintain. This focus also allows them a great deal of flexibility in matters not pertaining to their overarching goals. Areas of temporal concern can be abandoned with much less detriment to the Dragons than to, say, The InvictusLateral Thinking
The very nature of The Coils of the Dragon requires a style of problem-solving and thought that most people (and most Kindred) aren’t readily equipped to handle. The Dragons take very little on faith, but are superb at bringing unconventional and effective means of dealing with crises to the table. The other covenants know this, and a proverb among the Sanctified even advises, “The Dragon attacks from all sides at once.” Ordo Dracul strategists are much prized as Allies, and justly feared as enemies.The Coils of the Dragon
Kindred outside The Ordo Dracul do not understand The Coils of the Dragon, in theory or practice. They are likely to have heard wild and improbable stories about vampires siring or mothering living children, walking in full daylight or taking sustenance from the very air around them rather than from the blood of the living. What’s worse, the Coils are nearly impossible to detect magically (this is also a concern for The Ordo Dracul itself; see Chapter Three), and the Dragons put the greatest of mortal secret societies to shame when it comes to concealing their practices.The Covenants
The Ordo Dracul has methods and basic opinions when dealing with the other covenants of Kindred. Remember, though, that the covenants are not monolithic organizations that remain unchanging from one city to the next, to say nothing of one continent to the next. Young Dragons who have formed a particular idea of what it means to be “Carthian” or an “Acolyte” are encouraged to take correspondence from Dragons dwelling in other areas (or, if they are particularly brave, travel to meet them) and see how a change of venue and history warps the ideal. Dragons are also reminded that the same thing happens within their own covenant.Other Factions Among the Damned
Of course, not every vampire belongs to one of the five main covenants. Some are undecided (or reject the entire notion), and some choose a much more sinister path. These Kindred, many Dragons feel, are useful in the Great Work, if only by marking the terrible ends that can befall those who pursue false philosophies. That said, the Order does like to stay informed.Other Creatures
A vampire might exist a hundred years and never see a werewolf or a mage…or she might meet one the night of her Embrace. Other supernatural beings share the night with the Kindred, and all of the covenants have their own opinions about them and what they mean to the undead. The Ordo Dracul, of course, wonders what such beings could teach them.Werewolves
According to European legend, a werewolf is a man who sold his soul to the Devil and gained the ability to change shape. The Ordo Dracul is intimately familiar, however, with the accuracy of such legends in regard to vampires, and is therefore unwilling to take them at face value when it comes toshapeshifters. While the covenant doesn’t know much about these bestial creatures, it has learned a few very interesting facts.First, werewolves are not confined to changing shape under the full moon. Second, while they are certainly brutal killers, they don’t seem to relish eating human flesh (although the Ordo has certainly found evidence that it happens). Third, they sometimes claim Wyrm’s Nests, and when they do, they defend them with an absolutely horrific territorial zeal (fortunately, they seem to favor fontal nests, which The Ordo Dracul doesn’t have as much use for). Finally, and most fascinating, the werewolves are inherently spiritual creatures. They have a relationship with God that The Ordo Dracul cannot fathom. Brief conversations between Dragons and werewolves seem to indicate that they hold a somewhat animistic worldview, that they see God in everything, from the sky to the sea to the ground. Furthermore, they see vampires as completely soulless, devoid of the presence of God entirely.
While depressing, this rather confirms what the Ordo already believed: God exists, but He has forsaken the Kindred.
The Ordo Dracul knows that werewolves have their own society and would love to know more about it, but given how insular and secretive Kindred society is, they recognize that the hapeshifters aren’t likely to give up any important information. Still, the shapeshifters represent a constant source of intrigue — if these beasts understand the Divine on an instinctive level, what does that suggest about the Kindred Beast?
Mages
Mortals can and do use magic. The Ordo Dracul understands that much, but very little else about mages. They would greatly like to know whether vampires could conceivably learn to wield the same powers, but most Dragons doubt it. After all, a mortal mage, no matter how skilled, is unlikely to be able to learn Crúac or Theban Sorcery (and of course, there would be no point in a mortal learning the Coils of the Dragon), so if mortal magic is predicated as much on the practitioner being alive as Kindred sorcery is on her being undead, vampires learning mortal magic is a lost cause.Still, the fact that Humanity can empower itself through wizardry is interesting to the covenant. If Humanity can transcend without making the step to vampirism, perhaps in the theory of human magic lies the key to the final change. There the theory breaks down, however, because if there is a single magical theory by which mortals perform sorcery, The Ordo Dracul hasn’t found it. If anything, magic seems cultural. A voodooienne might produce results, but so might a Kabbalist. They can’t possibly all be ight, and so The Ordo Dracul feels it must look deeper into the phenomenon of mortal magic to gain any real insight.
The problem, however, is that mortal mages are difficult to find. The Ordo Dracul hasn’t discovered any reliable way of detecting them, although the covenant has noted that mages seem interested in some Wyrm’s Nests. Limited dealings with mages have led The Ordo Dracul to believe that they are capable of drawing power from Wyrm’s Nests in some capacity, but beyond that, their interest seems to vary from mage to mage. In any case, The Ordo Dracul wavers on its view of mages as opposed to other Kindred covenants holding Wyrm’s Nests. On the one hand, if mages claim the territory The Ordo Dracul can be fairly sure that they are using it, thus changing the magical flow of the area, which in itself might bring about some interesting mystical phenomena. On the other hand, the Dragons understand so little about mages — and some prefer the devil they know to the devil they don’t.
Ghosts and Spirits
The Ordo Dracul understands that not every spirit-like entity is the remains of a human being, and attempts have occasionally been made over the years to classify other spirits into categories that vampires can understand. These attempts often fail due to the Kindred in question sinking into Torpor or disappearing altogether, leaving behind only a Haven infested with strange, unnamed spirits, or simply because most vampires are illequipped even to perceive, much less understand, such ephemeral beings.Thus, most of the ephemeral creatures that the Dragons encounter are ghosts. Normally, The Ordo Dracul deals with ghosts in pursuit of a haunt. The Dragons know that human spirits linger under certain conditions, and long years of observing what sorts of people become ghosts has led The Ordo Dracul to a fairly accurate body of information on the matter. They know that ghosts vary greatly in their abilities and temperament; some don’t know they are dead, while others have been watching the Kindred for years and know more about them than The Ordo Dracul finds acceptable. The Ordo Dracul occasionally instructs a coterie to find a ghost’s anchor — the object or mortal keeping it from passing on — and destroy it, thus ridding the whole of a troublesome or dangerous spirit (this doesn’t always work, due to the fact that some ghosts have multiple anchors, but clever coteries find ways to overcome such obstacles).
The most important thing about spirits and ghosts for Dragons to remember, however, is that they are never to act as masters to the members of this covenant. The Rites of the Dragon are very clear on this point (though why exactly Dracula thought this was so important isn’t quite as clear). Violating this rule was enough to change the mighty Dragolescu bloodline from one of the ruling powers in the covenant to a despised shadow of its former self in one short decade. The Ordo Dracul will not submit to otherworldly masters.
— The Second Shining Philosopher of Sanguine Terror
Young Dragons
This section refers to “pupils” and “young Dragons,” but it’s important to note that not all Kindred new to the covenant are also new to the Requiem. Indeed, a great many vampires only come to The Ordo Dracul after experiencing the Requiem for several years, as Dracula himself did. It is only after developing some degree of comfort with the very state of undeath that a vampire can wonder about moving beyond it.On the other hand, some Kindred are Embraced directly into The Ordo Dracul or find their way to it shortly after their descent into undeath. A coterie of Kindred new to the covenant might include vampires of various ages and levels of power and experience. This is discussed in greater detail in Chapter Three.
Character Creation and Skills
The preceding discussion on skills and teaching provides a good justification for a character having Skills that might be useful in the chronicle but don’t otherwise fit the character concept. Many modern mortals have never held a gun, for instance, much less fired one, yet any Dragon Mentor knows the dangers of the World of Darkness and might insist that her pupils learn at least the rudiments of Firearms. If you’re creating a character who has already completed the basic schooling of The Ordo Dracul, ask your Storyteller what Skills (or Specialties) your character’s Mentor might have imparted to her, then put some dots in those Skills.This can also apply to Merits. A character who takes well to the lessons her Mentor teaches might wind up with dots in Status, Influence, Resources or Haven, depending on what her Mentor requires of her. And, of course, the Mentor Merit should be a serious consideration for any Ordo Dracul character, as the Dragons are meant to be constantly learning from their elders.
Principia Draconis
Dracula laid down three primary principles by which a Kindred would be known to be worthy of studying the Coils and being a member of The Ordo Dracul. It is the duty of every Dragon to obey the following principles above all else:A Dragon has no loyalty above his studies. Even the commands of a superior ultimately come second to the transcendent perfection each Dragon seeks for herself.
A Dragon must understand, accept and embrace purposeful change. Those who are unable to trust change have no hope of ever transcending their accursed state.
A Dragon is responsible for all she is and all she does. Because vampires are beyond death and fear, there remain no excuses for what one does or becomes. Moreover, not seizing an opportunity to improve one’s self is unforgivable, for it is a sign of cowardice and the denial of one’s own transcendence.
These principles are taken to be as important to The Ordo Dracul as the Commandments were to the Canaanites. Dragons who fail to live up to the Principia Draconis are ostracized by their peers and can even be dismissed from the ranks of the covenant if their lapses are significant enough.
Morality and Ethics
One of the reasons that The Ordo Dracul tends to earn a sinister reputation in Kindred society is because its code of morality seems alien to outsiders, and the unknown always engenders fears. The Dragons are far less concerned with traditional moral virtues that emphasize social altruism and conduct than they are with the ethical pursuit of the Great Work. It matters little to a Dragon that she stole the manuscript that helped her solve a scientific riddle that has stumped her for the past decade; it matters little more that she resorted to killing the old man who possessed the book in order to avoid his alerting the authorities. This is not to suggest that she is unconcerned with theft and murder, but does imply that for most Dragons, such things will nearly always take a backseat to more scholastic concerns. There are always more old men, but only one copy of that manuscript.Scientific ethics are important to the Order, however. Falsifying Research, making unfounded logical leaps, sloppy recordkeeping, vague observations, incomplete conclusions, plagiarizing and interfering in another Dragon’s investigations are all viewed as serious ethical transgressions. They may not go to Hell as a result of these sins, but they will certainly draw condemnation and possible sanction by the covenant.
No Dragon is perfect, however. Minor violations are commonplace and are routinely swept under the carpet; better to get back to work than spend time focusing on things that resulted in no real harm. However, when a major crime is committed,and it is no longer an easy thing to look the other way, The Ordo Dracul formally confronts the matter and usually makes an example of theviolator. Those who accuse the covenant of immorality would be surprised at how seriously it takes what it perceives to be the commission of real crimes.
The Dragon and the Wolf
As presented here, it might seem as though The Ordo Dracul’s natural curiosity and singular focus might make them superb crossover characters, willing to cope with the strangeness of associating with werewolves and mages provided they can obtain some useful insight or information in return.It’s true. They are. It is completely feasible for a Dragon to hold conversations and even be cordial with such beings. The Ordo Dracul has no consistent idea how mages and werewolves fit into their worldview — Are they cursed? Blessed? Outside God’s purview entirely? Despite these creatures’ strangeness, The Ordo Dracul would like to know the truth.
This doesn’t mean, however, that the Dragons necessarily consider such beings friends, and it certainly doesn’t guarantee there’s any real trust extended by either party. The relationships between vampires and werewolves cannot be generalized any more than relationships between “mortals” and “other mortals.” Every dynamic is unique. Even generalizing the attitudes and interplay between Ordo Dracul vampires and werewolves is largely pointless, as both the Order and the cultures of Lupines are too broad and varied to be easily summarized. A Dragon and a Lupine might be nemeses, rivals, Allies, secret partners, colleagues, honorable opponents, lovers or anything else. And like ordinary mortals, their relationships are rarely static.
The Ordo Dracul wants to know all it can, but isn’t always interested in trading information. As such, Dragons who have occasion to associate with werewolves or mages sometimes stay quiet, ask questions when it seems appropriate and always have a good escape route. An honest exchange of information would be the most fair, polite way to go about things — but these are not honest, fair or polite monsters.
Ephemeral Language
In game terms, ghosts and spirits are two different sub-categories of ephemeral beings. Ghosts are best explained in the World of Darkness Rulebook, while spirits are examined in-depth in Werewolf: The Forsaken. Mechanically, these two kinds of beings have many common traits and many important differences.In practice, not all chronicles need to distinguish between ghosts and spirits with the maximum level of possible detail. The Dragons certainly don’t have the clear-cut distinctions between spirits and ghosts that you have access to as a player of the game. This book strives to use the most atmospherically appropriate term for a spirit or ghost when such beings are discussed. In game mechanics, the distinction is clear and sure, but in more colorful passages of text you may find words like “spiritual” and “ghostly” used to describe either type of ephemeral being. Don’t be confused. This is intended to evoke an atmosphere of Victorian spiritualism and modern paranormal studies, not to indicate the necessary presence of a particular sort of ephemeral being. When this book is vague on the subject of spirits and ghosts, it’s an indicator that beings of either type might be at work.
Storytellers should feel free to use either ghosts or spirits in stories involving such aspects of occult spiritualism. Players should never know what to expect.