Worship in the Circle
Not every Acolyte comes to The Circle of the Crone through a solitary crisis. Some are lucky enough to be members of the covenant through their first tribulations, surrounded by like-minded Kindred who are ready and able to support them. While these vampires may not begin their career in the Circle with a glamorous calamity, they do tend to form the steady backbone of the covenant. Through them, ritual worship is realized. In them, the foundation of the covenant’s social structure is built and upheld. Eventually, every Acolyte, no matter how extreme his arrival to the Circle, must participate in group ritual if he wishes to grow more powerful and more secure in his Requiem.
The trappings of group ritual are unique to each domain, but there are common elements at the base of every one. The system of call-and-response between the Hierophant and her Circle is nearly omnipresent, as is the repetition of key phrases from their locally assembled litany. Most cults engage in regularly scheduled sacrifice and maintenance of some sort of Temple or sacred space. The group veneration of significant plants or animals is common, as is the act of co-operative dedicated creation(i.e., works of art) in the name of The Crone.
It’s important to note that ritual worship in the Circle of one’s fellow Acolytes is the way of unlife for the members of the covenant; it’s what they do. Isolated weekly visits to the ritual gathering aren’t enough for the spiritual thirst of the Acolyte. She must spend the time between each ritual preparing herself, exploring her self and arranging the Materials of her devotion. The elaborate groundwork behind and before each gathering of the Circle is crucial to her development, as is the emotional liberation of the ritual itself and the reinforcement of her fellow Kindred as they participate in the same cycle of build and release.
Each member of the Circle empowers the others by his participation in ritual, and each undeniably feels the contributions of the others. Certain rituals may require that the individual Acolytes prepare separate ritual ingredients, bringing them all together in a symbolic merging at the climax of worship. Other rituals involve the creation of identical works (or at least differing works interpreting the same subject) to demonstrate the unification of the Circle in single purpose. The more active the participation of each and every member, the more powerfully the ritual will be felt and the more intense the actual tangible results will be.
Many Kindred develop close ties with their fellow Acolytes, forged in the heat of shared exertion and ritual trance. The ceremonies of The Circle of the Crone can be quite intimate, revealing hidden fears and urges that most outsiders never see. Vampires, in exposing themselves to contemporaries who are similarly open, achieve a trust that is only approximated by the artificial connection of the blood bond — but is entirely natural.
These close ties of familiarity and trust can, in turn, feed the power of a ritual by invoking the sincere and absolute support members lend to one another. Some Hierophants encourage the formation of these ties by actively demanding ritual confession and shared tribulation from their Acolytes.
The larger rituals of the Circle tend to take on an aspect of celebration, and Kindred who are not familiar with the true purpose of the gathering may become involved, even finding themselves joining in the worship (in the form of song or dance) without realizing the significance of their contribution. These gatherings can be wild, orgiastic affairs or simple, solemn rites, but are often popular with both the Acolytes of the Circle and more social outsider vampires.
No two cults worship exactly the same way. The varied religious outlooks of the covenant and the realities of geographical isolation lead to a divergence in method and belief. Some Kindred twist the practices of a Circle to their own ends, while others simply lose touch with The Traditions of their elders thanks to the attrition of the centuries. Regardless of surface discrepancies, though, most cults perform certain key rites that preserve and maintain their basic functions around the world.
For example, nearly every established Circle practices a rite of initiation, promoting chosen initiates from the relatively uneducated ranks of The Chorus to the Status of a full Acolyte. Once the Acolytes have endured the rite, they are permitted to take a more active role in the direction of covenant policy within a domain and are allowed to partake in the secret knowledge of the Circle: practical form and function of Crúac rituals, the full disclosure of the litany and other valuable information. The variations on this initiation rite are so wide as to render them almost completely alien from one another — except that they all fulfill the same need.
This initiation rite, no matter how it is practiced, always seems to involve three distinct stages. First, an initiate is separated from the rest of The Chorus, marking the initiate as chosen for tribulation and advancement. Next, she crosses some kind of symbolic constructed threshold, enduring some difficult or painful test of will and proving her faith. Last, she is reintegrated with the community as a newly declared Acolyte, and may take part in some sort of declaration or celebration to mark the occasion.
Following are six initiation rites, taken from widely differing cults all around the world, as a means of illustration:
In the region, all rituals are performed in an actual circle, stratified into an inner ring of Acolytes and an outer one for The Chorus. Those Kindred named for the honor of initiation are allowed to step between the two rings for all rituals after their selection, indicating their current transition in passage to the inner round.
On the night before the Midwinter Sacrifice, the chosen Kindred are stripped bare and painted with a runic inscription of deep significance, bearing symbols of power and prosperity as chosen by the Hierophant. This marking takes at least three hours, during which the vampire is expected to meditate on his dedication to the Circleand his future service to the gods of old. A bare grave is dug for him in a secure location and is blessed by the Hierophant herself with a sprinkling of herbs and pure water. The chosen member of The Chorus lays himself in the open grave, slipping into a day’s slumber as the rest of the Circle sings of his devotion and implores the gods for a blessing.
At the arrival of Midwinter’s dusk, the vampire rises from the open grave, naked and ritually marked, as if awakening from death all over again. He is alone and without guidance. Knowing well what is expected of him, he steps out into the chill night, seeking a mortal victim for sacrifice. He will ritually stalk the victim, spending at least an hour in pursuit before closing in and capturingthe mortal alive.
Thence, he carries his captive back to the ritual gathering place of the Circle, where he presents the victim to the Hierophant and collected Acolytes. The Hierophant accepts the offer, and the victim is ritually slain in an elaborate ceremony of prayer. The blood of the mortal is sprinkled on all participants, none of whom may drink of it — it is sacred, and remains for the gods alone.
Once all chosen Kindred have returned and made their sacrifices, giving up the fruits of their hunt for the favor of the gods, a feast is arranged by the Hierophant. Her Acolytes bring out mugs filled with warm, fresh mortal blood, and all Kindred present participate in a prayer of devotion, honoring the results of the hunt and the favorable accomplishment of the chosen one(s).
These initiates (and they alone) continue to drink from the glass, which is continually refilled, throughout the prayer. The Hierophant reads a significant passage from the local litany (most often one of the hidden stories of Hel, the goddess of the shadowy Underworld and — according to this Circle’s beliefs — The Mother of all vampires). All sing a prayer song, and the chosen hunter is led to the center of the ritual space.
There, in ecstatic trance brought on by the song and glutting on blood, the initiate is branded with the runic marks that were chosen for him and given the black robes of a full Acolyte. From this night forward, he is a true member of the Circle, granted access to the secrets of Crúac and allowed to take his place in the inner round at all rituals.
Candidates for the Long Jump are chosen on a night of the full moon, named in a ritual call at the end of the night. Those chosen are cheered on by the rest of the Circle, and instructed to select a tall building on the city’s skyline. Many see this choice as an opportunity for competitive display, opting for the tallest one they see. Some, however, pick buildings that are somehow significant to them (either from their mortal life or their current Requiem), and so long as the building is higher than 10 stories, no criticism is issued.
At the next new moon, the chosen vampire leads a march to the building, Climbing the stairs to the rhythm of a slow, whispered chant conducted by her fellow Kindred. During the climb, she prepares herself by forcing Vitae into her body to toughen up for the ceremony to come. She allows herself to slip into a meditative trance as she climbs, picturing herself as a conduit of indestructible will. She is also invited to consider herself and the path she is choosing, cementing it in her mind as the right and true beginning to a transcendent journey.
On the roof of the tower, she is invited to step to the edge. The Hierophant delivers a short speech, taken from the litany of the Circle, in which the transcendent power of Kindred Vitae is illustrated. While the speech is conducted, two Acolytes bring an elasticized rope forward. One attaches the rope to the building, while the other fastens it to the initiate’s ankle. At the climax of the rite, she is called upon to declare her belief in the power of her own Vitae, screaming it to the winds. When the Hierophant is satisfied with the candidate’s readiness, he instructs the candidate to leap from the edge, and she does without hesitation.
The fall that follows is an indescribable experience. Most Kindred who have completed the ritual make vague allusions to a sensation of complete peace or a notion that their doubts and fears are stripped away in the few seconds it takes, shed like old skin.
Inevitably, the fall is cut short by the cord, and the vampire slams into the side of the building. Some smash through a window, others bounce off concrete or glass. Most barely feel the impact, having spent so much Vitae on their stamina in preparation for the jump. Many are scraped back up the side of the building in the bounce that follows.
There are members of the Circle who have taken to performing divinations based on the result of the jump: how many times the candidate strikes the building, whether or not she breaks anything (in herself or the structure) on impact, and how many times she bounces back before coming to rest. These divinations are highly valued by the chosen candidate, and often form the basis for a number of significant decisions, which she is likely to consider during the climb.
The candidate is then hauled back up by her compatriots, and presented with a ritual victim for sating her hunger. She feeds, taking as much or as little as she desires, and the Hierophant declares her a full Acolyte of the Circle. Thereafter, she is invited to participate in other rituals and allowed to learn the hidden powers of Crúac.
In an unusual departure from the norm for most local gatherings of Acolytes, the initiate is not selected by the Hierophant. Instead, a member of The Chorus who believes she is ready to accept full Status as an Acolyte steps forward at one of the regular ritual meetings of the covenant and humbly presents herself as a hopeful candidate for initiation.
In a detailed, choreographed statement, she abases himself before her contemporaries as an unworthy, unfaithful creature of great shame, declaring that she can only bear to continue her existence if she will be allowed to wed the great Amaterasu-o-mi-kami, the sun-goddess of Shinto whom she has foolishly hidden from in her Kindred Requiem.
The candidate is then approached by the Hierophant, who solemnly accepts her proposal on behalf of the goddess. Thereafter, the candidate must seclude herself from all Kindred or mortal contact for three full days and nights and refrain from speaking, opening her eyes or lying down. She is to meditate calmly before an unseen mirror, clearing her mind of clutter and steeling herself for the tribulation that is to come.
As she does so, the other members of her Circle perform a ceremonial dance meant to symbolize their willingness to accept a new Acolyte in their ranks. The dance is incomplete, purposely missing a required participant.
On the fourth night, the initiate rises and bathes herself in flower-scented waters and dons a ceremonial black kimono. Emerging from the room, she finds the full complement of her Acolyte compatriots (not the Chorus) waiting for her, and she leads a procession to a specially prepared marriage sanctum. This is an empty room, unfurnished and without decoration. There is an opening in the east wall, just large enough for the vampire’s arm.
As the dawn approaches, the Hierophant recites a ceremonial prayer of unification, calling to Amaterasu and begging her to come forth. The candidate pulls her robe back, exposing her left arm and putting it through the opening in the wall, asking the goddess to join hands with her. The collected Acolytes will echo her plea.
As the sun rises, the candidate is badly burned. She must hold her hand in the light, enduring the agony of exposure until the recitation of the Hierophant is completed. If the candidate collapses, the Hierophant’s retainers will pull her from the wall and quickly cover the hole, but the Hierophant is likely to suffer a burn in the meantime (and will wear it as a mark of the candidate’s “imperfect” performance). Ideally, the recitation is finished quickly enough and the candidate may remove her arm of her own volition. If she is unable to overcome the Beast and put her hand through the hole in the first place (frenzying before the sun touches her or succumbing to simple cowardice), the ritual is ended and the disgraced vampire is returned to The Chorus.
If she is successful, the candidate is carried away to her Meditation chamber, where a pot of blood is provided for her feeding. Over the next two weeks, she convalesces, slowly Healing the damage done in the ceremony. As soon as she is able, she places a band of gold on her ring finger over the burns that still remain. When her Healing is nearly complete, she expends the will to retain the scars under this band, allowing the rest to vanish.
Each night, while she remains in the chamber, the Acolytes of her Circle gather and chant for one hour at sundown and one hour at midnight. The chant is complex and carefully memorized, detailing a pledge of support from each participant and honoring the initiate for taking part in this tribulation.
When next the vampire emerges from the Meditation chamber, she is considered a full Acolyte of the Circle and a dutiful bride (or husband, as the case may be) of the goddess. The Acolyte is expected to fulfill her duties as a loyal spouse through the learning and practice of the arts of the Circle, including the rituals of Mahou (the intensely regimented local flavor of Crúac), regular sacrifices to the kami gods and dedication to the empowerment of her fellow worshippers.
When the Hierophant believes a vampire is ready for initiation, he is called forth and asked to accept the welcome of the covenant in song. The candidate responds with a few sung lines, gratefully kneeling before the Hierophant and the image of Mama Cocha, The Mother of Inti and the goddess of the sea. The rest of the congregation raises their voices in praise, honoring the new candidate and the will of the gods and goddesses.
That night, the candidate returns to his Haven and arranges for the creation of a handmade cloak of wool. When he receives the cloak, he spills a few drops of his blood onto it, reciting a short prayer in thanks. The next week, he is joined by another member of the covenant, who bleeds a few drops of her blood onto the cloak and recites her prayer together with him. Each week, another member arrives to add to the staining of the cloak, and all those who have participated thus far recite the prayers together with the newest contributor.
At each visitation, the candidate must provide sustenance for every member of the congregation present. Once all of the members of the congregation have contributed, the Hierophant leads them in a grand ritual. At the climax of the ritual, the blood is magically absorbed into the cloak, vanishing.
The candidate then dons the cloak, wrapping it around himself, hiding completely within its folds. As the Hierophant recites a long passage from the litany describing the birth of the gods and foretelling the scouring of their enemies from the earth. At the conclusion of the telling, the candidate declares that he is ready to be cleansed by The Circle of the Crone and emerge as a true childe of the gods.
With the Hierophant’s approval, each member of the congregation steps forward in turn and names a sin that the candidate has committed. The candidate responds to each declaration with acceptance and reiterates his wish to be cleansed. If he responds in any other way, naming of the sin is repeated and the candidate is given another chance to answer it. Once all of the members of the congregation have stepped forward, the candidate turns to the Hierophant and begs, once again, to be cleansed.
The Hierophant then performs a solemn, difficult ritual, supported by the chanting of the Acolytes, imploring the sins of the candidate to retreat from his body and into the cloak he wears. Over the course of the next few hours, as the Hierophant leads the participants through song, dance and prayer, the fabric turns a deep, matte black and grows heavier and heavier upon the shoulders of the candidate.
When the transformation is completed, the candidate is assigned a new name and called upon to discard the robe, leaving behind his old sins and old name and emerging as a new Acolyte of The Circle of the Crone. He does so with great joy and relief. The vampire who emerges from this ritual is never again referred to by his old name in gatherings of the covenant.
A celebration follows, in which the congregation dance, sing and feast upon available sources (invariably prepared and provided by the Hierophant) for the remainder of the night. The candidate is then and forever more a full Acolyte of The Circle of the Crone, a true servant of the gods and channel for the wisdom and power of the spirits.
When a member of The Chorus is considered ready for initiation, she is separated from her compatriots and lifted upon the shoulders (or backs) of full Acolytes and carried to a flat, open space somewhere in the steppes. The Chorus remains behind, restricted from witnessing the ritual that follows. As the travelers walk to their destination, the Hierophant leads the initiate in a peculiar interrogative song, verifying her intent to discard the trappings of first her mortal life, then her fears and wants and finally even her name. She responds in the affirmative to each question. The entirety of this song can take upwards of three hours as each item of personal baggage to be discarded is listed individually.
At the ritual spot, the initiate is laid upon the ground. She does not move as the Acolytes cut her clothes away, leaving her exposed to the elements of the open wilderness. There, the Hierophant calls upon the wisdom and power of The Crone, asking that she allow her initiate to emerge from the world of mortal desire and greed into the unencumbered faith of a true worshipper. When his prayer is ended, the Acolytes of the Circle tear themselves open with tooth and claw, spattering the initiate with their Vitae. They kneel around her, touching their foreheads to the ground and singing their praise of The Crone and the dedication of her good servants.
The initiate must not drink any of the Vitae that strikes her, and must not move during the entire ritual. At the end of the presentation, as the crimson spots all over her body slowly dry, the Hierophant tells the initiate she has failed to please The Crone in her existence to date. He explains that she is going to be left for the sun, and that her only choice is to accept her fate with the dignity that befits a true believer. Here the truly painful tribulation begins: no amount of protest or pleading will affect the Hierophant in the least. His only response will be to reiterate the initiate’s sole option. Her Requiem is coming to an end.
If the initiate tries to flee, the Acolytes will let her go. This Circle will never again accept her. Only if she remains, willing herself to die the Final Death rather than displease the goddess, will her fellow Acolytes return to her. Moments before the rising of the sun, they fling a thick, heavy cloak over her body and wrap her in it, carrying her to safety. As she drifts into sleep, they tell her that a new Requiem will begin now, as a pure and true follower of the faith.
The next night, as they awake, the Hierophant declares that the initiate has truly proven her worth and passed the final test of the Circle. He chooses a new name for her and welcomes her as the newest Acolyte of the covenant. She is then called upon to lead the Circle back to the awaiting members of The Chorus.
For all intents and purposes, the new Acolyte’s existence to date is wiped clean. Anything she wishes to forget is forgotten. All that remains for her is the promise of a long and fruitful Requiem in devoted service to the great Wandering Crone.
When a member of The Chorus is ready for initiation, the Hierophant approaches him immediately upon completing the regular weekly rites of the circle and favors him with a touch on the forehead. He is escorted from the ritual site by two Acolytes, who spend the rest of the night guiding him through an elaborate purification ritual involving a series of scented baths punctuated by ardent prayers of thanks, the creation of a large bundle of hand-pressed incense sticks and the fitting of a white silk prayer robe.
The next night, before a gathering of the entire Circle, the initiate is brought forward and made to kneel upon the floor of the ritual space. He wears his new robe and is surrounded by the incense he prepared, which smolders throughout the early stages of the ritual. The Hierophant is seated before him, watching him carefully as he recites first a prayer of thanks, then a selected portion of the Circle’s litany and then a prayer of devotion to the goddess and her prophet. The initiate swears to serve both in every way he can, acknowledging that they are one and the same, and that to sin against one is to sin against the other.
To prove his devotion, the initiate presents a curved blade and places it on the floor in front of him. He waits for the Hierophant to speak — she may address him immediately, or she may wait as long as she likes. When she makes her decision, she commands him to mark himself with the blade. Some initiates are just asked to make a couple of light cuts across their body, while others are commanded to remove a finger, a tooth or an ear. Some are directed to carve an elaborate pattern of cuts and jabs all over their bodies.
Whatever the demand, the initiate must obey without hesitation. If he fails to complete the cut, the Hierophant repeats her command. If he fails three times to follow the order of the Hierophant, the initiation is considered a failure and the would-be Acolyte, exposed as insincere in his devotion, is beaten into Torpor and left out for the sun.
Those who prove their faith are guided through another prayer of thanks, this time speaking in tandem with the Hierophant, who blesses them with a proud smile. As the prayer begins, the rest of the Circle approaches the initiate, surrounding him. When it is completed, the Hierophant invites the newest Acolyte to stand, and the others lift him upon their shoulders, calling their congratulations out with grateful joy.
Although it is never expressly required of them, many Acolytes of this Circle choose to keep the scars of their initiation as a means of displaying their ardent loyalty to the goddess and her prophet on earth.
What is common to every Acolyte is the influence of religious belief on their choices. Blood-spattered skins bespeak a primal, predatory faith, while a taboo against bright colors might indicate the belief in a goddess of darkness or humility. The tools and charms of a faithful existence are often worked into the outfits of the Acolytes, in some cases displayed openly, in others hidden within hems and folds. Very few cults do not express some sort of spiritual taboo or requirement with regards to dress, as dictated by the details of their beliefs.
It is worth noting that fashionable integration with mortal society or the prevailing Kindred trend of a domain is rarely a motive for Acolytes of the Circle. As a result, many fail to fit in and suffer the trials of a visible outsider.
Certain special outfits are occasionally worn, especially at the various ceremonies and holiday rites of the covenant, and these may be as elaborate as anything assembled by The Invictus — although these outfits are almost always hand-made by Acolytes. Into these dresses and cloaks, the tailors of the covenant pour all of their devotional effort, working hard to create a wearable prayer. But clothing is usually the least of the covenant’s material means to divine worship.
The Naturalist school of Acolyte art focuses on realistic depictions of natural beauty, exalting The Crone’s multifaceted creation and expressing the love and admiration of her followers by careful study and duplication. The Crone was the first and greatest sculptor and painter, say many Acolytes, and aspiring to create a perfect replica of any one of her majestic works (and to understand the genius of its design) is to worship faithfully. Solitaryvampires are known to spend decades or centuries creating works with a single, natural focus.
It’s not uncommon to find an Acolyte’s Haven filled with dozens of sculptures or paintings interpreting and reinterpreting the same subject: a Rock formation, perhaps, or a certain species of owl. This is more than satisfying: it’s an approach to divinity. To stray from the designs of The Crone is to do her work a disservice, say Naturalist Acolytes, but to reach a full understanding of any one structure is to know a small fraction of her vast truth.
Those Kindred who seriously follow the Naturalist school will most often shore up their work with physical, psychological and academic study of their chosen subjects. Some will learn Animalism so as to better understand the world of animal beauty that they observe (or simply to get a closer look without disturbing their subjects). Others will become expert botanists, cataloging thousands of species themselves and learning to fully understand the workings of their environment, so as to more accurately recreate it in their dedicated works.
There is a Circle in North Africa that assigns each Acolyte a sacred animal spirit and encourages him to carve images of the spirit again and again as a means to meditate on its place in the natural world and the wisdom it displays in life. The ritual space of the Circle is littered with these icons, and some are literally filled with hundreds of them, from tiny ivory figurines to lifesize clay sculptures. Each sculpture bears the blessing of the spirit creature, they say, and each one guards the ritual Altar with the full faith and ferocity of the vampire who sculpted it.
On the other hand, the Representational school of Acolyte art encourages the making of allegorical works, depicting not just the outward form of Creation but the intense emotions and the implied divinity within. The work of The Crone extends well beyond the simple structure of the natural world, and to restrict one’s worship to a shallow emulation of her design is to ignore its deeper structure.
There is bloodlust in a shark, they say, and placid calm in an undisturbed lake. Why not find a way to represent those qualities in a visual work, inspiring a strong response in the viewer? To Representational Acolyte artists, the best creations of Naturalists are admired for their precision, nothing more. A great work of veneration in art should move the viewer to tears or laughter, not just inspire respect for a steady hand.
Representational Acolyte artists tend to be much less literal-minded than their counterparts, and often prefer to romanticize their subjects rather than learn the nuts-and-bolts physical truth of their forms. Artists of the Representational school will imbue a subject with personal significance and emotion, hoping to communicate their own awe to the viewer.
In Japan, some Acolytes become brush painters beyond compare, capturing the powerful emotional base of a subject in just a few short strokes. Tales are told of the Hierophant in one southern domain who once painted an image of the ocean waves at the nearby shore. The Invictus Prince, upon catching his first glimpse of the image in Elysium, was so overcome by its depiction of untainted serenity that he thereupon renounced his covenant and position, choosing instead to spend the rest of his Requiem in peaceful repose at the edge of the Pacific.
While both sides disagree on aesthetic points, both agree on this: the process of creating a visual work is a manner of worship, and not to be diminished for anything. A vampire who spends less than a day and little conscious effort painting a perfect image of a sparrow is considered a poor Acolyte, while one who works for painstaking months, adding brushstroke after brushstroke to an aesthetically inferior image or meditating for a whole season on the work before putting pencil to paper will be more highly respected. Many a neonate is initially annoyed and confused by this assessment, but they soon come to appreciate and acknowledge the true purpose of Acolyte works.
As a way of thanking The Crone for the opportunity to create their works, many Acolyte artists engage in the practice of mixing their own Vitae in with the media of their art. Literally putting a bit of their life in the image, this infusion is a significant statement of sacrifice, honor and dedication.
A majority of these pieces are designed specifically for integration into ritual practice: the epic tellings and interpretations of the litanies of The Crone, for example, are artfully constructed and read so as to maximize impact on every Acolyte who hears them. Elaborate musical piecesmay underscore the observance of holiday rites and aid in amplifying or directing the powerful emotions involved in the rituals of Crúac. Wild, spiritual dances are often employed in bringing Acolytes to ecstatic trance so as to better aid in magickal workings.
Not every work is constructed for the sole enjoyment of the covenant, though. Acolytes who love to create also love to display their creations, and are encouraged to do so with pride. Many an Elysium site plays host to the orchestrations of the Circle for the benefit of all attendees. Plays and readings are common in Kindred gathering as well, and many a Prince provides for the protection of certain Acolytes simply because of her appreciation for their passionate contributions to the local arts.
From soothing classic melodies to frenzied, atonal arias, the composers of The Circle of the Crone venerate the miracle of sound with stunning originality and effectiveness. Many outsiders are surprised by the apparent lack of creative proscription in such a religious covenant, and some make no effort to conceal their fascination with Acolyte song.
In fact, there is one domain in Europe where the musicians of the Circle meet in friendly opposition, once a year, with those of The Invictus. The Prince of the domain, a member of the First Estate, is a notorious lover of the symphony, and he encourages the annual event so as to allow the composers of both covenants to display their finest and most recent works. Despite the best efforts of The Invictus’ musicians, they concede defeat again and again, honoring the works of the Acolytes with the respectful declarations of their artisans. Those who have never witnessed these competitions often lean toward skepticism, wondering if allowing the Circle to claim victory allows the Prince some political gain. When they first attend, however, it is almost universally admitted: the music of the Circle there is grandly, exhilaratingly, devastatingly superior.
The poetry of the Circle, often preserved and passed on exclusively in oral recitation, is beyond compare. No other covenant makes a point of encouraging the lyrical development of legend and law the way the Circle does, and no other covenant is willing to accept the inevitable variance of personal interpretation that the Acolytes allow for in their litanies.
To the Acolyte writers, musicians and actors, the debate between naturalist and representational technique is not as fierce as with the visual artists of the covenant. Most are content to concern themselves with pure sound or rhythm and evocative speech without imposing the limits of one view or another. To them, the full beauty of creation may not be duplicated in sound alone, but it can be certainly be illuminated by it.
Contrary to expectation, the works of Acolyte composers and writers are not restricted to primitive imagery and technique. The stereotype of dark pagan worship is often applied to The Circle of the Crone, but the stereotype just can’t stand up to the occasional display of modernist and postmodernist technique from its artists. All of creation is to be exalted in art, say the Acolytes, and there is no conceivable subject or method of performance that is excluded from creation, hence there can be no taboos in the Circle’s world of art.
The gardeners of the Circle take great pride in the attention they pay to their “verdant prayer,” regardless of the actual size of their plots. Most cultivate amazing displays of controlled wilderness, encouraging the abundant growth of wildflowers, weeds and trees within their chosen territory. To wander in the gardens of the Acolyte growers is to know the wide and varied possibilities of nature in one’s domain. For the true natural worshipper, every bud and leaf is a sacred surprise, a player in the never-ending flux of regeneration and decay that reflects the whole of the world around it.
The appearance of the gardens may be wild, but not for a lack of attention. The fact is that each individual growth is meticulously cared for, but never interfered with. The goal is to recognize and honor the features of creation’s many facets, not to impose aesthetic choices.
A garden is more than an accumulation of plants. A whole ecology of insects, birds and rodents are bound take up residence in a natural growth, allowing the vampire to observe and interact with a miniature replica of the living world. Some Kindred feed on these visitors, while others place them under their protection.
Many Kindred, including outsiders, have had occasion to comment on the profound psychological impact that an expertly maintained garden can have on those who walk within its growth. Most accuse the Acolyte keepers of imbuing their gardens with some magickal effect, but the truth is that visitors are simply experiencing nature in all its beauty, loved and maintained by a faithful devotee — an extremely unusual circumstance for vampires.
The Acolyte’s urge to maintain natural projects doesn’t begin and end with plant life. Many dedicated worshippers care for living animal pets or companions, venerating them as representatives of the natural world or real manifestations of totemic spirits. These Kindred will make use of whatever talents and powers they possess to quell the instinctive discomfort animals feel around the undead so as to better ease relations, but will avoid feeding their Vitae to the creatures because of the awareness of the supernatural change it will incur.
Some will populate their temples and sacred spaces with their animal charges. Single creatures might become the adopted pet of an entire Circle, or every member of a specific species might be protected by the Acolytes. The litany of one Southeast Asian domain highlights bats as the “holy messengers of The Crone,” and all the covenant’s ritual spaces in the area are home to hundreds of the winged creatures. In one Eastern European domain, all domestic cats are considered charges of the Circle, and anyone who harms one risks incurring the wrath of the covenant.
Acolytes often accept strays, feeding and caring for them when they approach, but refuse to restrain the creature or otherwise impose unnatural rules upon them. If an animal chooses to return again and again to a certain vampire’s house, she may accept it as a pet (and even revere it), but she will never claim to “own” it.
Of course, not every Acolyte is so freewheeling or interprets “reverence” the same way. Some do keep and train beasts, breeding them for the development of preferred features. Often, training is excused by Kindred who claim to know the divine origin of these creatures and seek to return them to their natural state. Household pets are taught to shed their pampered lives and stalk the city as fierce hunters, bred for size and speed.
In some domains, the litany of The Crone may call for the worship of mortals bearing specific divine features (or even of specific mortals, born of a chosen line). The duty of the Acolytes is to protect and care for these humans, whether they know of their benefactors or not. Through these humans, the Acolytes show their concern and dedication to the welfare of The Crone and her many progeny.
Occasionally, a Hierophant will assign Acolytes to a random mortal, teaching them to love creation in any form (even, perhaps, a particularly ugly, poorly mannered one or an enemy from the Acolyte’s days as a mortal). The prosperity of the mortal in question becomes a measure of the faith and commitment of the Kindred under instruction. Pity the mortal who becomes this living prayer, as she will rarely have an inkling of what’s happening to her, and many are incapable of understanding or accepting their sudden shiftin fortune. A number of Acolytes make the mistake of giving the mortal too much, too quickly, and can do nothing but watch in horror as their charges spiral out of control. Other Acolytes interpret the positive influence of tribulation too intensely, and grind their mortal wards down under torments that may seem insurmountable. Worse, outsider Kindred may discover a human prayer’s significance to the Circle without grasping the reason and may seek to do damage to the covenant by harming her.
Some humans are bred and trained as a mortal Chorus, supporting the Acolytes of the Circle in a given domain. Fully faithful members of the organization, these mortals become servants of the covenant without the benefit of Kindred Vitae — an arrangement that is worrisome to outsiders, to say the least. These Allies are privy to the secrets of the litany without necessarily realizing the nature of their superiors. Secret tribal societies arise in the middle of urban developments, peopled by mortals seeking a spiritual alternative to the modern way of life. They may participate in Crúac rituals, if the local system allows it, and candidates for Embrace are often picked from their number.
In opposition to common practice, some Acolytes advocate a ban on “friendly relations” with humans and animals. Vampires are predators, these Acolytes argue, and were created to be predators. It is not for them to coddle prey, or to venerate it. To them, the only way to worship the natural world is to acknowledge their place as hunters in it, and fulfill their natural purpose. These stern cults rarely last long, though, since their members tend to slip into the snarling embrace of the Beast with relatively little delay.
When certain mortals prove their worth to the covenant, whether through faithful attendance, ardent belief or some more esoteric process of selection, they may be gifted with vampire Vitae, transforming them into the ghoul votaries of the Circle. There the veneration ends, though, and the hapless (or fortunate?) mortal embarks on a journey of her own, for she has passed from the natural world of her former life into the supernatural milieu of the Kindred.
Different cults have different ways of describing this ideal meditative state. Certain Eastern Acolytes claim that they are shedding the layers of illusion implicit in the natural world, becoming nothing more than the impulse of The Crone in pure form, even if only for a moment. One particular cult in France claims that an instant of thoughtlessness is an instant of actual physical contact with The Crone herself, leading to a brief annihilation of ego in her immense, incomprehensible being. This is exactly akin, they say, to being a drop of water that is allowed a fleeting immersion in the whole of the ocean and then withdrawn again.
The ideal state of unconsciousness will be sought either in preparation for ritual worship or as part of the worship itself. Many Hierophants teach their cults to recognize seven distinct avenues to this state: five natural and two unique to Kindred. Some Hierophants create elaborate systems of instruction, leading their Acolytes through all seven in a long and difficult divinity quest that confronts the worst parts of their being in sequence and illustrates the means to conquer the self provided by the gods. Other Hierophants focus on a single avenue, believing that it is the most spiritual, the most effective or just the most simple.
Truth to tell, the form this exercise takes is less important than the state of mind the exercise creates. Running in place will do the job just as effectively as dancing an elaborately choreographed, 100-step tribal routine. Some cults engage in the practice of burdening — placing a dense weight on the backs of their members and demanding that they stand at attention throughout a long process of preparation for ritual. Some swim or sprint to an isolated sacred space. Some chant endlessly circular mantras constantly, refusing refreshment and pausing only to sleep through the days. The endurance of ritually administered pain is also considered simple physical exertion for the Acolytes of the covenant, as is maintaining immobility for extended periods.
Kindred don’t get tired, per se, so the exercises of the Acolytes can be mind-boggling in their length. Tales are told of Kindred worshippers who start dancing and never stop, allowing themselves to become an embodied prayer in motion. Whispering worshippers, always chanting, are known to have emerged in certain cults, ignoring the inevitable accusations of madness as they engage in a monolithic, decades-long recitation in honor of The Crone’s eternal Majesty.
The second natural avenue is battle. Tainted by desire in its common form and most commonly associated with the Vices of Envy and Wrath, battle is acknowledged as both a dangerous and staggeringly effective means to achieving the state of consciousness most conducive to ritual. There are experienced Acolytes who claim that it is possible, with enough practice, to arrive at a state of aimless violence — an unconscious endeavor stripped of all polluting thought and transforming the Acolyte into an engine of devotional sacrifice.
Some cults demand preparation in battle before entering into ritual (or as one of the stages of the ritual itself). There are those cults that make a dueling circle of their sacred space, encouraging Acolytes to face off against one another in appallingly brutal exercise. Most of the Kindred who participate in these ritual duels testify to a sensation of exhilarated mindlessness that overtakes them under the right conditions. Other, more dangerous cults require that their members do battle with outsiders before they can attempt contact with the gods. These cults construct a state of perpetual war for themselves, always seeking out enemies and victims on which to hone their bloody state of unconscious veneration.
It can be astonishing to see a warring Acolyte operating in the state of mind considered ideal for worship. The effect is nothing like frenzy — in fact, it’s very nearly the opposite of the animalist red tide of rage or hunger that overtakes all Kindred. The experienced practitioner of the Circle’s thoughtless combat is rather a creature of pure martial understanding, machinelike in her precision and completely without mercy or doubt.
Sex is the third of the avenues to mindlessness. Equally tainted by conscious desire, sex is associated with the Vices of Lust and Gluttony. In many cults, sexual practice is ritualized in itself, leading to an altered state of consciousness in participating Acolytes and clearing them for the intense energies of Crúac. Some actually integrate sex with the central ritual itself, achieving the effect at the moment of ego loss that arrives at the height of pleasure.
But sex within the Circle is not what some Acolytes expect. The experience can be very pleasurable, but ritual practice seeks an ideal of virtuous desirelessness and so avoids the choices an inexperienced initiate is most likely to gravitate toward. If there is a member of the Circle he finds especially attractive, he is discouraged from partnering with her in the sacred space. If there isa practice he finds particularly disgusting or disturbing, he is likewise restricted from participating. The ideal approach, as instructed by many a Hierophant, is a state of detached openness.
To achieve this admittedly difficult attitude, younger Kindred often resort to techniques or conditions created to assist in damping desire. Simple restriction of the senses is applied in some domains — worship in darkness or in opaque muffling masks. In others, mantras and elaborately ritualized movements are practiced. Older vampires, while no less moved by desire, often admit that sexual practice without its taint seems easier for them, simply because of their dimming memories. The pleasurable sensations of copulation are all tied with living function, and the cold bodies of the Kindred can only simulate the experience with a significant expenditureof Vitae. If they don’t bother to warm themselves, sex for vampires can become no less mechanical than running in place.
The fourth avenue to unconscious worship is an extremely popular one among Acolytes of the Circle, since this path is well supported by both of the basic tenets of the covenant. This avenue is realized in the construction of devotional Materials, and is most commonly linked to artistic practices. It is also a potential spiritual trap, according to some Hierophants, and is associated with the Vices of Pride and Greed. Just as each of the otheravenues, construction must be approached with due reverence and engaged in with pure intentions.
Construction as exertion requires more than the technique of an artisan. The Acolyte who chooses to worship in this manner must throw the whole of her self into the creation of her works. A sculptor must pound at the chisel unto the limits of endurance. A painter must labor without pause, constantly laying pigment onto the canvas regardless of time spent or personal desire. A poet will scream his verses into the sky even as they occur to him, rending his own throat with their force. Only in this manner can the vampire achieve a state of pure devotion and mindless servitude to the will of The Crone.
Many cults employ additional tactics to aid the Acolyte in separating herself from her works, ensuring that their creation is a purely worshipful act. Some insist that the Acolytes gather to destroy each piece at the conclusion of their rituals, so that nothing remains of them (and thus, there is nothing to be proud of). Other Acolytes decree that the works are to be constructed of perishable Materials, which will proceed to rot naturally after presentation. One Circle in Southeast Asia has adopted the peculiar practice of denying responsibility for their creations, choosing instead a notional spirit manifestation and crediting it with the work.
The fifth and final natural avenue is the hunt. Predation is a function of the living world, and those Kindred who learn to lose themselves in the activity without giving themselves over to the Beast find a new and potent means to achieving the uncorrupted essence of worship. In Kindred existence, many cults associate the hunt with the Vice of Sloth, because the hunt tempts the rational Man to slumber when it is most needed: in controlling the irrational demands of the Beast, and in the lethargy associated with both extreme hunger and the satiation that follows feeding.
Those who choose to worship in the hunt are likely to engage in starvation practices to heighten the urgency of their need and ensure that the activity satisfies only the natural requirement to feed, not the lust of the Beast. They ration their Vitae, subsisting on less than most Kindred. Periods of careful idleness are punctuated by an extremely aggressive hunt, allowing the vampire to slip between the extremes of near-comatose hunger and nearlunatic fervor. Never at either extreme is the Acolyte to succumb to the temptations that await: Torpor in periods of inactivity and frenzy in the act of the hunt.
A number of cults around the world integrate the hunt into their rituals and rites, performing their acts of sorcery and veneration in the midst of stalking prey. The energies that arise from this practice are said to be terrifying, even to those who call them forth. The spiritual vibration maintained between desperation and madness is too much for many Kindred, who collapse in one direction or the other. But those who can maintain a balance often find that they can employ the resultant state of energized, abnormal calm to devastating effect.
Even among Acolytes who worship in frenzy, there are degrees. Some cults carefully prepare their sacred space for a storm of mindless abandon, restraining their members with heavy chain to ensure that the ritual chamber itself is not disrupted. Other cults believe that no concessions should be allowed: the vampires involved are encouraged to throw themselves into the storm ofunconscious mania without limit.
Frenzy is associated, by those who care to discuss the state in intellectual terms, with all Vices. Frenzy is considered by all but the most depraved cults to be the full and final expression of the worst part of any vampire. The loss of conscious ego under frenzy’s influence is irrefutable and easily demonstrated, so it is still considered an avenue to achieving the meditative worship sought after by many.
The second unnatural avenue, and the final of the seven avenues, is the practice of ritual Torpor. Rarely attempted by younger or less experienced Acolytes, it involves the willful collapse into the sleep of ages, allowing one’s self to drift aimlessly in the unconscious haze therein. The vampire loses all contact with the natural world and his own body, abandoning himself to the dreams chosen for him by The Crone. Ideally, a vampire learns to achieve a meditative state within this unconscious world, witnessing and accepting the visions that are presented to him therein. Just going to sleep isn’t enough — one must learn to relax into the current of Torpor’s dreams, “traveling” calmly and attentively under their influence.
Most Acolytes who engage in this practice become the center of certain sacred rites in their cults. A schedule of sleep is set for these Acolytes, complete with a ritual celebrating the commencement of their slumber and another ceremony for waking. Often, the schedule is set by a calendar of natural events (phases or eclipses of the moon, certain dates and the passage of seasons are all common) or unpredictable occurrences (the next time it snows, the next occurrence of a meteor shower). The slumbering vampire is usually said to be “in prayer,” and her oft-confused first words upon waking are generally treated as oracular proclamations. Some cults go so far as to reserve important decisions for these ritual awakenings, choosing to read and interpret the waking statements of the Kindred sleepers for guidance.
Ritual Torpor is a fearsome journey for many Acolytes. It is well documented that those with violent Requiems may be subjected to a seemingly endless progression of torturous, guilt-ridden dreams. Those who emerge from a sacred sleep invariably find themselves diminished in power, and occasionally seem diminished in capacity. Some go irretrievably mad. Some arise with shattered memories, never quite understanding who they were before the sleep. But all who engage in a ritual Torpor are holy, somehow touched by what gods or goddesses the Kindred of the Circle revere. Whatever happens to these vampires is in keeping with the wishes of The Crone, and any Acolyte who willingly enters the sacred sleep is generally considered a visionary of the finest caliber.
Some experienced Acolytes with a history of successes on one or more of these avenues claim that they eventually achieve a state of constant prayer-in-action, in which Meditation is integrated into every waking and sleeping moment of being. These Kindred claim that the Requiems that follow for them become harmonious, natural affairs. These Acolytes move smoothly through the nights, honoring The Crone and her natural creation in everything they see and do, never failing to find theirplace in worship. This is not Golconda, say the Acolytes, because this is not an attempt to escape the truth of Kindred existence. The enlightened vampire still feeds and frenzies — but that feeding and that frenzy are serene elements of an operative whole. This state may be centuries in coming, but the promise of achieving this state is something that keeps many a young Acolyte in faithful practice from night to night.
Most Acolytes who have attained this state recommend that a vampire seek the unconscious Requiem through all seven avenues, each in sequence or all at once. There are some Hierophants who create a rigid program of progression, taking their Acolytes through a series of arduous exercises meant to illustrate each path. The cult of one domain in the Middle East encourages all of its members to follow a complicated course of training and tribulation to find their Meditation in every avenue, each of which is split into six sublevels. Their course is modeled on a notional internal structure, the “Palace in Vitae,” that the Acolyte must build over time, taking decades to complete each of the 42 stages. It is said that those who achieve the completion of even two or three stages are clearly and demonstrably more comfortable and capable than average, unschooled Kindred, and that the magics of Crúac come much more easily to them.
Whether the claims of the Acolytes are true or not, it cannot be denied that the exercise of meditative prayer in-action lends them purpose. No vampire who seriously seeks the completion of these paths is ever idle, and that fact alone may aid in understanding the value of the covenant. Formerly aimless Kindred who feel that they are fulfilling a spiritual quest are lent a sureness of self and a means of satisfaction unavailable to those who are too cynical or otherwise unwilling to participate.
The trappings of group ritual are unique to each domain, but there are common elements at the base of every one. The system of call-and-response between the Hierophant and her Circle is nearly omnipresent, as is the repetition of key phrases from their locally assembled litany. Most cults engage in regularly scheduled sacrifice and maintenance of some sort of Temple or sacred space. The group veneration of significant plants or animals is common, as is the act of co-operative dedicated creation(i.e., works of art) in the name of The Crone.
It’s important to note that ritual worship in the Circle of one’s fellow Acolytes is the way of unlife for the members of the covenant; it’s what they do. Isolated weekly visits to the ritual gathering aren’t enough for the spiritual thirst of the Acolyte. She must spend the time between each ritual preparing herself, exploring her self and arranging the Materials of her devotion. The elaborate groundwork behind and before each gathering of the Circle is crucial to her development, as is the emotional liberation of the ritual itself and the reinforcement of her fellow Kindred as they participate in the same cycle of build and release.
Each member of the Circle empowers the others by his participation in ritual, and each undeniably feels the contributions of the others. Certain rituals may require that the individual Acolytes prepare separate ritual ingredients, bringing them all together in a symbolic merging at the climax of worship. Other rituals involve the creation of identical works (or at least differing works interpreting the same subject) to demonstrate the unification of the Circle in single purpose. The more active the participation of each and every member, the more powerfully the ritual will be felt and the more intense the actual tangible results will be.
Many Kindred develop close ties with their fellow Acolytes, forged in the heat of shared exertion and ritual trance. The ceremonies of The Circle of the Crone can be quite intimate, revealing hidden fears and urges that most outsiders never see. Vampires, in exposing themselves to contemporaries who are similarly open, achieve a trust that is only approximated by the artificial connection of the blood bond — but is entirely natural.
These close ties of familiarity and trust can, in turn, feed the power of a ritual by invoking the sincere and absolute support members lend to one another. Some Hierophants encourage the formation of these ties by actively demanding ritual confession and shared tribulation from their Acolytes.
The larger rituals of the Circle tend to take on an aspect of celebration, and Kindred who are not familiar with the true purpose of the gathering may become involved, even finding themselves joining in the worship (in the form of song or dance) without realizing the significance of their contribution. These gatherings can be wild, orgiastic affairs or simple, solemn rites, but are often popular with both the Acolytes of the Circle and more social outsider vampires.
No two cults worship exactly the same way. The varied religious outlooks of the covenant and the realities of geographical isolation lead to a divergence in method and belief. Some Kindred twist the practices of a Circle to their own ends, while others simply lose touch with The Traditions of their elders thanks to the attrition of the centuries. Regardless of surface discrepancies, though, most cults perform certain key rites that preserve and maintain their basic functions around the world.
For example, nearly every established Circle practices a rite of initiation, promoting chosen initiates from the relatively uneducated ranks of The Chorus to the Status of a full Acolyte. Once the Acolytes have endured the rite, they are permitted to take a more active role in the direction of covenant policy within a domain and are allowed to partake in the secret knowledge of the Circle: practical form and function of Crúac rituals, the full disclosure of the litany and other valuable information. The variations on this initiation rite are so wide as to render them almost completely alien from one another — except that they all fulfill the same need.
This initiation rite, no matter how it is practiced, always seems to involve three distinct stages. First, an initiate is separated from the rest of The Chorus, marking the initiate as chosen for tribulation and advancement. Next, she crosses some kind of symbolic constructed threshold, enduring some difficult or painful test of will and proving her faith. Last, she is reintegrated with the community as a newly declared Acolyte, and may take part in some sort of declaration or celebration to mark the occasion.
Following are six initiation rites, taken from widely differing cults all around the world, as a means of illustration:
The Midwinter Sacrifice
In one of the urban centers of Germany, The Circle of the Crone practices a modern initiation rite that traces its origins back to a Kindred variation on the traditional Norse “blót” ceremonies of old. Each year, the Hierophant of the Circle selects those members of The Chorus who are ready to graduate to full-status Acolytes of the covenant by the end of October, allowing them at least six weeks to make their preparations for the initiation ritual, which always takes place on the night of The Winter Solstice.In the region, all rituals are performed in an actual circle, stratified into an inner ring of Acolytes and an outer one for The Chorus. Those Kindred named for the honor of initiation are allowed to step between the two rings for all rituals after their selection, indicating their current transition in passage to the inner round.
On the night before the Midwinter Sacrifice, the chosen Kindred are stripped bare and painted with a runic inscription of deep significance, bearing symbols of power and prosperity as chosen by the Hierophant. This marking takes at least three hours, during which the vampire is expected to meditate on his dedication to the Circleand his future service to the gods of old. A bare grave is dug for him in a secure location and is blessed by the Hierophant herself with a sprinkling of herbs and pure water. The chosen member of The Chorus lays himself in the open grave, slipping into a day’s slumber as the rest of the Circle sings of his devotion and implores the gods for a blessing.
At the arrival of Midwinter’s dusk, the vampire rises from the open grave, naked and ritually marked, as if awakening from death all over again. He is alone and without guidance. Knowing well what is expected of him, he steps out into the chill night, seeking a mortal victim for sacrifice. He will ritually stalk the victim, spending at least an hour in pursuit before closing in and capturingthe mortal alive.
Thence, he carries his captive back to the ritual gathering place of the Circle, where he presents the victim to the Hierophant and collected Acolytes. The Hierophant accepts the offer, and the victim is ritually slain in an elaborate ceremony of prayer. The blood of the mortal is sprinkled on all participants, none of whom may drink of it — it is sacred, and remains for the gods alone.
Once all chosen Kindred have returned and made their sacrifices, giving up the fruits of their hunt for the favor of the gods, a feast is arranged by the Hierophant. Her Acolytes bring out mugs filled with warm, fresh mortal blood, and all Kindred present participate in a prayer of devotion, honoring the results of the hunt and the favorable accomplishment of the chosen one(s).
These initiates (and they alone) continue to drink from the glass, which is continually refilled, throughout the prayer. The Hierophant reads a significant passage from the local litany (most often one of the hidden stories of Hel, the goddess of the shadowy Underworld and — according to this Circle’s beliefs — The Mother of all vampires). All sing a prayer song, and the chosen hunter is led to the center of the ritual space.
There, in ecstatic trance brought on by the song and glutting on blood, the initiate is branded with the runic marks that were chosen for him and given the black robes of a full Acolyte. From this night forward, he is a true member of the Circle, granted access to the secrets of Crúac and allowed to take his place in the inner round at all rituals.
The Long Jump
One city in the American Pacific Northwest boasts a modernized initiation ritual that seems to combine the elements of the Brazilian Vanuatu and a more contemporary gang member’s proof of courage. A relatively uncomplicated, almost low-key rite, it nevertheless follows the same basic path as every initiation process in the covenant.Candidates for the Long Jump are chosen on a night of the full moon, named in a ritual call at the end of the night. Those chosen are cheered on by the rest of the Circle, and instructed to select a tall building on the city’s skyline. Many see this choice as an opportunity for competitive display, opting for the tallest one they see. Some, however, pick buildings that are somehow significant to them (either from their mortal life or their current Requiem), and so long as the building is higher than 10 stories, no criticism is issued.
At the next new moon, the chosen vampire leads a march to the building, Climbing the stairs to the rhythm of a slow, whispered chant conducted by her fellow Kindred. During the climb, she prepares herself by forcing Vitae into her body to toughen up for the ceremony to come. She allows herself to slip into a meditative trance as she climbs, picturing herself as a conduit of indestructible will. She is also invited to consider herself and the path she is choosing, cementing it in her mind as the right and true beginning to a transcendent journey.
On the roof of the tower, she is invited to step to the edge. The Hierophant delivers a short speech, taken from the litany of the Circle, in which the transcendent power of Kindred Vitae is illustrated. While the speech is conducted, two Acolytes bring an elasticized rope forward. One attaches the rope to the building, while the other fastens it to the initiate’s ankle. At the climax of the rite, she is called upon to declare her belief in the power of her own Vitae, screaming it to the winds. When the Hierophant is satisfied with the candidate’s readiness, he instructs the candidate to leap from the edge, and she does without hesitation.
The fall that follows is an indescribable experience. Most Kindred who have completed the ritual make vague allusions to a sensation of complete peace or a notion that their doubts and fears are stripped away in the few seconds it takes, shed like old skin.
Inevitably, the fall is cut short by the cord, and the vampire slams into the side of the building. Some smash through a window, others bounce off concrete or glass. Most barely feel the impact, having spent so much Vitae on their stamina in preparation for the jump. Many are scraped back up the side of the building in the bounce that follows.
There are members of the Circle who have taken to performing divinations based on the result of the jump: how many times the candidate strikes the building, whether or not she breaks anything (in herself or the structure) on impact, and how many times she bounces back before coming to rest. These divinations are highly valued by the chosen candidate, and often form the basis for a number of significant decisions, which she is likely to consider during the climb.
The candidate is then hauled back up by her compatriots, and presented with a ritual victim for sating her hunger. She feeds, taking as much or as little as she desires, and the Hierophant declares her a full Acolyte of the Circle. Thereafter, she is invited to participate in other rituals and allowed to learn the hidden powers of Crúac.
The Wedding in Fire
The initiation ritual of one particular Japanese cult of Acolytes is worth examination for the cult’s integration of several involved sub-rites into one greater whole. The entire ritual, taken from start to finish, not only demonstrates a new Acolyte’s dedication to the covenant, but creates a shared experience of directed torment that will forever tie the vampire to her fellow sufferers.In an unusual departure from the norm for most local gatherings of Acolytes, the initiate is not selected by the Hierophant. Instead, a member of The Chorus who believes she is ready to accept full Status as an Acolyte steps forward at one of the regular ritual meetings of the covenant and humbly presents herself as a hopeful candidate for initiation.
In a detailed, choreographed statement, she abases himself before her contemporaries as an unworthy, unfaithful creature of great shame, declaring that she can only bear to continue her existence if she will be allowed to wed the great Amaterasu-o-mi-kami, the sun-goddess of Shinto whom she has foolishly hidden from in her Kindred Requiem.
The candidate is then approached by the Hierophant, who solemnly accepts her proposal on behalf of the goddess. Thereafter, the candidate must seclude herself from all Kindred or mortal contact for three full days and nights and refrain from speaking, opening her eyes or lying down. She is to meditate calmly before an unseen mirror, clearing her mind of clutter and steeling herself for the tribulation that is to come.
As she does so, the other members of her Circle perform a ceremonial dance meant to symbolize their willingness to accept a new Acolyte in their ranks. The dance is incomplete, purposely missing a required participant.
On the fourth night, the initiate rises and bathes herself in flower-scented waters and dons a ceremonial black kimono. Emerging from the room, she finds the full complement of her Acolyte compatriots (not the Chorus) waiting for her, and she leads a procession to a specially prepared marriage sanctum. This is an empty room, unfurnished and without decoration. There is an opening in the east wall, just large enough for the vampire’s arm.
As the dawn approaches, the Hierophant recites a ceremonial prayer of unification, calling to Amaterasu and begging her to come forth. The candidate pulls her robe back, exposing her left arm and putting it through the opening in the wall, asking the goddess to join hands with her. The collected Acolytes will echo her plea.
As the sun rises, the candidate is badly burned. She must hold her hand in the light, enduring the agony of exposure until the recitation of the Hierophant is completed. If the candidate collapses, the Hierophant’s retainers will pull her from the wall and quickly cover the hole, but the Hierophant is likely to suffer a burn in the meantime (and will wear it as a mark of the candidate’s “imperfect” performance). Ideally, the recitation is finished quickly enough and the candidate may remove her arm of her own volition. If she is unable to overcome the Beast and put her hand through the hole in the first place (frenzying before the sun touches her or succumbing to simple cowardice), the ritual is ended and the disgraced vampire is returned to The Chorus.
If she is successful, the candidate is carried away to her Meditation chamber, where a pot of blood is provided for her feeding. Over the next two weeks, she convalesces, slowly Healing the damage done in the ceremony. As soon as she is able, she places a band of gold on her ring finger over the burns that still remain. When her Healing is nearly complete, she expends the will to retain the scars under this band, allowing the rest to vanish.
Each night, while she remains in the chamber, the Acolytes of her Circle gather and chant for one hour at sundown and one hour at midnight. The chant is complex and carefully memorized, detailing a pledge of support from each participant and honoring the initiate for taking part in this tribulation.
When next the vampire emerges from the Meditation chamber, she is considered a full Acolyte of the Circle and a dutiful bride (or husband, as the case may be) of the goddess. The Acolyte is expected to fulfill her duties as a loyal spouse through the learning and practice of the arts of the Circle, including the rituals of Mahou (the intensely regimented local flavor of Crúac), regular sacrifices to the kami gods and dedication to the empowerment of her fellow worshippers.
Dropping the Cloak
Not all initiation rites are so physically demanding. A relatively small gathering of Acolytes in Central America takes part in a collaborative celebration of a member’s transition from Chorus to full membership with an air of pleasant celebration. The taint of Kindred existence is momentarily forgotten, masked beneath a garment of great emotional significance.When the Hierophant believes a vampire is ready for initiation, he is called forth and asked to accept the welcome of the covenant in song. The candidate responds with a few sung lines, gratefully kneeling before the Hierophant and the image of Mama Cocha, The Mother of Inti and the goddess of the sea. The rest of the congregation raises their voices in praise, honoring the new candidate and the will of the gods and goddesses.
That night, the candidate returns to his Haven and arranges for the creation of a handmade cloak of wool. When he receives the cloak, he spills a few drops of his blood onto it, reciting a short prayer in thanks. The next week, he is joined by another member of the covenant, who bleeds a few drops of her blood onto the cloak and recites her prayer together with him. Each week, another member arrives to add to the staining of the cloak, and all those who have participated thus far recite the prayers together with the newest contributor.
At each visitation, the candidate must provide sustenance for every member of the congregation present. Once all of the members of the congregation have contributed, the Hierophant leads them in a grand ritual. At the climax of the ritual, the blood is magically absorbed into the cloak, vanishing.
The candidate then dons the cloak, wrapping it around himself, hiding completely within its folds. As the Hierophant recites a long passage from the litany describing the birth of the gods and foretelling the scouring of their enemies from the earth. At the conclusion of the telling, the candidate declares that he is ready to be cleansed by The Circle of the Crone and emerge as a true childe of the gods.
With the Hierophant’s approval, each member of the congregation steps forward in turn and names a sin that the candidate has committed. The candidate responds to each declaration with acceptance and reiterates his wish to be cleansed. If he responds in any other way, naming of the sin is repeated and the candidate is given another chance to answer it. Once all of the members of the congregation have stepped forward, the candidate turns to the Hierophant and begs, once again, to be cleansed.
The Hierophant then performs a solemn, difficult ritual, supported by the chanting of the Acolytes, imploring the sins of the candidate to retreat from his body and into the cloak he wears. Over the course of the next few hours, as the Hierophant leads the participants through song, dance and prayer, the fabric turns a deep, matte black and grows heavier and heavier upon the shoulders of the candidate.
When the transformation is completed, the candidate is assigned a new name and called upon to discard the robe, leaving behind his old sins and old name and emerging as a new Acolyte of The Circle of the Crone. He does so with great joy and relief. The vampire who emerges from this ritual is never again referred to by his old name in gatherings of the covenant.
A celebration follows, in which the congregation dance, sing and feast upon available sources (invariably prepared and provided by the Hierophant) for the remainder of the night. The candidate is then and forever more a full Acolyte of The Circle of the Crone, a true servant of the gods and channel for the wisdom and power of the spirits.
Baptism on the Steppes
There are territories in Russia where the Acolytes of the Circle are practitioners of an ancient nomadic tradition. They are adherents to an extremely ascetic faith, and exist in a state of self-imposed poverty beyond the comprehension of their counterparts in other covenants. Participating in long, dangerous pilgrimages are a matter of worship for these Acolytes, and all of their major rites are performed in the wilderness, without shelter or furnishings.When a member of The Chorus is considered ready for initiation, she is separated from her compatriots and lifted upon the shoulders (or backs) of full Acolytes and carried to a flat, open space somewhere in the steppes. The Chorus remains behind, restricted from witnessing the ritual that follows. As the travelers walk to their destination, the Hierophant leads the initiate in a peculiar interrogative song, verifying her intent to discard the trappings of first her mortal life, then her fears and wants and finally even her name. She responds in the affirmative to each question. The entirety of this song can take upwards of three hours as each item of personal baggage to be discarded is listed individually.
At the ritual spot, the initiate is laid upon the ground. She does not move as the Acolytes cut her clothes away, leaving her exposed to the elements of the open wilderness. There, the Hierophant calls upon the wisdom and power of The Crone, asking that she allow her initiate to emerge from the world of mortal desire and greed into the unencumbered faith of a true worshipper. When his prayer is ended, the Acolytes of the Circle tear themselves open with tooth and claw, spattering the initiate with their Vitae. They kneel around her, touching their foreheads to the ground and singing their praise of The Crone and the dedication of her good servants.
The initiate must not drink any of the Vitae that strikes her, and must not move during the entire ritual. At the end of the presentation, as the crimson spots all over her body slowly dry, the Hierophant tells the initiate she has failed to please The Crone in her existence to date. He explains that she is going to be left for the sun, and that her only choice is to accept her fate with the dignity that befits a true believer. Here the truly painful tribulation begins: no amount of protest or pleading will affect the Hierophant in the least. His only response will be to reiterate the initiate’s sole option. Her Requiem is coming to an end.
If the initiate tries to flee, the Acolytes will let her go. This Circle will never again accept her. Only if she remains, willing herself to die the Final Death rather than displease the goddess, will her fellow Acolytes return to her. Moments before the rising of the sun, they fling a thick, heavy cloak over her body and wrap her in it, carrying her to safety. As she drifts into sleep, they tell her that a new Requiem will begin now, as a pure and true follower of the faith.
The next night, as they awake, the Hierophant declares that the initiate has truly proven her worth and passed the final test of the Circle. He chooses a new name for her and welcomes her as the newest Acolyte of the covenant. She is then called upon to lead the Circle back to the awaiting members of The Chorus.
For all intents and purposes, the new Acolyte’s existence to date is wiped clean. Anything she wishes to forget is forgotten. All that remains for her is the promise of a long and fruitful Requiem in devoted service to the great Wandering Crone.
Rising into the Circle
One Circle on the East Coast of Canada practices an unusually focused faith, based entirely around their founder and eldest member, whom they believe to be an earthly prophet of The Crone’s wisdom. All rituals are led by this Hierophant, and all Acolytes surrender themselves not to the notional goddess, but to her vampiric messenger in their midst. None question her divinity, for the goddess herself bestows it upon her. None oppose her words, for they carry the wisdom and the power of the goddess in them. The Circle shuns those Acolytes who dwell in the domain outside this messiah’s influence.When a member of The Chorus is ready for initiation, the Hierophant approaches him immediately upon completing the regular weekly rites of the circle and favors him with a touch on the forehead. He is escorted from the ritual site by two Acolytes, who spend the rest of the night guiding him through an elaborate purification ritual involving a series of scented baths punctuated by ardent prayers of thanks, the creation of a large bundle of hand-pressed incense sticks and the fitting of a white silk prayer robe.
The next night, before a gathering of the entire Circle, the initiate is brought forward and made to kneel upon the floor of the ritual space. He wears his new robe and is surrounded by the incense he prepared, which smolders throughout the early stages of the ritual. The Hierophant is seated before him, watching him carefully as he recites first a prayer of thanks, then a selected portion of the Circle’s litany and then a prayer of devotion to the goddess and her prophet. The initiate swears to serve both in every way he can, acknowledging that they are one and the same, and that to sin against one is to sin against the other.
To prove his devotion, the initiate presents a curved blade and places it on the floor in front of him. He waits for the Hierophant to speak — she may address him immediately, or she may wait as long as she likes. When she makes her decision, she commands him to mark himself with the blade. Some initiates are just asked to make a couple of light cuts across their body, while others are commanded to remove a finger, a tooth or an ear. Some are directed to carve an elaborate pattern of cuts and jabs all over their bodies.
Whatever the demand, the initiate must obey without hesitation. If he fails to complete the cut, the Hierophant repeats her command. If he fails three times to follow the order of the Hierophant, the initiation is considered a failure and the would-be Acolyte, exposed as insincere in his devotion, is beaten into Torpor and left out for the sun.
Those who prove their faith are guided through another prayer of thanks, this time speaking in tandem with the Hierophant, who blesses them with a proud smile. As the prayer begins, the rest of the Circle approaches the initiate, surrounding him. When it is completed, the Hierophant invites the newest Acolyte to stand, and the others lift him upon their shoulders, calling their congratulations out with grateful joy.
Although it is never expressly required of them, many Acolytes of this Circle choose to keep the scars of their initiation as a means of displaying their ardent loyalty to the goddess and her prophet on earth.
The Ecstasy of Worship
The Acolytes of The Circle of the Crone are creatures with purpose. Every act, every decision, is informed by their awareness of their place in the natural world and the demands of their faith. Because of this, their personal appearance and the activities they engage in are heavily influenced by their beliefs, and are often selected on the basis of compatibility with those beliefs above any other consideration. Everything is an act of reverence to a true member of the covenant, and her style and activity will always reflect that truth.Veneration in Costume
Because of the wide variation in the details of religion among the Acolytes of the world, their aesthetics are often utterly dissimilar from domain to domain. One Circle may demand strict asceticism from its members, allowing them only to dress in bland robes. Another may dictate a flamboyant display of intricate jewelry and devices, while still another requires a gruesome display of trophies torn from the bodies of enemies to the covenant — and all three might exist within 100-mile circle.What is common to every Acolyte is the influence of religious belief on their choices. Blood-spattered skins bespeak a primal, predatory faith, while a taboo against bright colors might indicate the belief in a goddess of darkness or humility. The tools and charms of a faithful existence are often worked into the outfits of the Acolytes, in some cases displayed openly, in others hidden within hems and folds. Very few cults do not express some sort of spiritual taboo or requirement with regards to dress, as dictated by the details of their beliefs.
It is worth noting that fashionable integration with mortal society or the prevailing Kindred trend of a domain is rarely a motive for Acolytes of the Circle. As a result, many fail to fit in and suffer the trials of a visible outsider.
Certain special outfits are occasionally worn, especially at the various ceremonies and holiday rites of the covenant, and these may be as elaborate as anything assembled by The Invictus — although these outfits are almost always hand-made by Acolytes. Into these dresses and cloaks, the tailors of the covenant pour all of their devotional effort, working hard to create a wearable prayer. But clothing is usually the least of the covenant’s material means to divine worship.
Veneration in Color and Shape
Icons, paintings and drawings of the manifestations of The Crone are common in the culture of the Circle, as are sculptures and other representative visual arts. Modern Acolytes are known to work in newer media as well: photography, film, even digital art. There are two schools of thought in the creation and display of Acolyte artworks: naturalist and representational.The Naturalist school of Acolyte art focuses on realistic depictions of natural beauty, exalting The Crone’s multifaceted creation and expressing the love and admiration of her followers by careful study and duplication. The Crone was the first and greatest sculptor and painter, say many Acolytes, and aspiring to create a perfect replica of any one of her majestic works (and to understand the genius of its design) is to worship faithfully. Solitaryvampires are known to spend decades or centuries creating works with a single, natural focus.
It’s not uncommon to find an Acolyte’s Haven filled with dozens of sculptures or paintings interpreting and reinterpreting the same subject: a Rock formation, perhaps, or a certain species of owl. This is more than satisfying: it’s an approach to divinity. To stray from the designs of The Crone is to do her work a disservice, say Naturalist Acolytes, but to reach a full understanding of any one structure is to know a small fraction of her vast truth.
Those Kindred who seriously follow the Naturalist school will most often shore up their work with physical, psychological and academic study of their chosen subjects. Some will learn Animalism so as to better understand the world of animal beauty that they observe (or simply to get a closer look without disturbing their subjects). Others will become expert botanists, cataloging thousands of species themselves and learning to fully understand the workings of their environment, so as to more accurately recreate it in their dedicated works.
There is a Circle in North Africa that assigns each Acolyte a sacred animal spirit and encourages him to carve images of the spirit again and again as a means to meditate on its place in the natural world and the wisdom it displays in life. The ritual space of the Circle is littered with these icons, and some are literally filled with hundreds of them, from tiny ivory figurines to lifesize clay sculptures. Each sculpture bears the blessing of the spirit creature, they say, and each one guards the ritual Altar with the full faith and ferocity of the vampire who sculpted it.
On the other hand, the Representational school of Acolyte art encourages the making of allegorical works, depicting not just the outward form of Creation but the intense emotions and the implied divinity within. The work of The Crone extends well beyond the simple structure of the natural world, and to restrict one’s worship to a shallow emulation of her design is to ignore its deeper structure.
There is bloodlust in a shark, they say, and placid calm in an undisturbed lake. Why not find a way to represent those qualities in a visual work, inspiring a strong response in the viewer? To Representational Acolyte artists, the best creations of Naturalists are admired for their precision, nothing more. A great work of veneration in art should move the viewer to tears or laughter, not just inspire respect for a steady hand.
Representational Acolyte artists tend to be much less literal-minded than their counterparts, and often prefer to romanticize their subjects rather than learn the nuts-and-bolts physical truth of their forms. Artists of the Representational school will imbue a subject with personal significance and emotion, hoping to communicate their own awe to the viewer.
In Japan, some Acolytes become brush painters beyond compare, capturing the powerful emotional base of a subject in just a few short strokes. Tales are told of the Hierophant in one southern domain who once painted an image of the ocean waves at the nearby shore. The Invictus Prince, upon catching his first glimpse of the image in Elysium, was so overcome by its depiction of untainted serenity that he thereupon renounced his covenant and position, choosing instead to spend the rest of his Requiem in peaceful repose at the edge of the Pacific.
While both sides disagree on aesthetic points, both agree on this: the process of creating a visual work is a manner of worship, and not to be diminished for anything. A vampire who spends less than a day and little conscious effort painting a perfect image of a sparrow is considered a poor Acolyte, while one who works for painstaking months, adding brushstroke after brushstroke to an aesthetically inferior image or meditating for a whole season on the work before putting pencil to paper will be more highly respected. Many a neonate is initially annoyed and confused by this assessment, but they soon come to appreciate and acknowledge the true purpose of Acolyte works.
As a way of thanking The Crone for the opportunity to create their works, many Acolyte artists engage in the practice of mixing their own Vitae in with the media of their art. Literally putting a bit of their life in the image, this infusion is a significant statement of sacrifice, honor and dedication.
Veneration in Sound and Motion
If the Kindred of The Circle of the Crone have one perfect outlet for their creative urges, this is it. In epic prose and poetry, in song and dance, in powerful Oratory and expressive drama, their demonstrations of praise for the whole of creation and the great sufferings of The Crone are so varied and so ubiquitous as to astonish even the coldest of observers. There can be no single, allencompassing statement to describe the style or subject matter of these works, as they are no less diverse than the many Kindred who compose them.A majority of these pieces are designed specifically for integration into ritual practice: the epic tellings and interpretations of the litanies of The Crone, for example, are artfully constructed and read so as to maximize impact on every Acolyte who hears them. Elaborate musical piecesmay underscore the observance of holiday rites and aid in amplifying or directing the powerful emotions involved in the rituals of Crúac. Wild, spiritual dances are often employed in bringing Acolytes to ecstatic trance so as to better aid in magickal workings.
Not every work is constructed for the sole enjoyment of the covenant, though. Acolytes who love to create also love to display their creations, and are encouraged to do so with pride. Many an Elysium site plays host to the orchestrations of the Circle for the benefit of all attendees. Plays and readings are common in Kindred gathering as well, and many a Prince provides for the protection of certain Acolytes simply because of her appreciation for their passionate contributions to the local arts.
From soothing classic melodies to frenzied, atonal arias, the composers of The Circle of the Crone venerate the miracle of sound with stunning originality and effectiveness. Many outsiders are surprised by the apparent lack of creative proscription in such a religious covenant, and some make no effort to conceal their fascination with Acolyte song.
In fact, there is one domain in Europe where the musicians of the Circle meet in friendly opposition, once a year, with those of The Invictus. The Prince of the domain, a member of the First Estate, is a notorious lover of the symphony, and he encourages the annual event so as to allow the composers of both covenants to display their finest and most recent works. Despite the best efforts of The Invictus’ musicians, they concede defeat again and again, honoring the works of the Acolytes with the respectful declarations of their artisans. Those who have never witnessed these competitions often lean toward skepticism, wondering if allowing the Circle to claim victory allows the Prince some political gain. When they first attend, however, it is almost universally admitted: the music of the Circle there is grandly, exhilaratingly, devastatingly superior.
The poetry of the Circle, often preserved and passed on exclusively in oral recitation, is beyond compare. No other covenant makes a point of encouraging the lyrical development of legend and law the way the Circle does, and no other covenant is willing to accept the inevitable variance of personal interpretation that the Acolytes allow for in their litanies.
To the Acolyte writers, musicians and actors, the debate between naturalist and representational technique is not as fierce as with the visual artists of the covenant. Most are content to concern themselves with pure sound or rhythm and evocative speech without imposing the limits of one view or another. To them, the full beauty of creation may not be duplicated in sound alone, but it can be certainly be illuminated by it.
Contrary to expectation, the works of Acolyte composers and writers are not restricted to primitive imagery and technique. The stereotype of dark pagan worship is often applied to The Circle of the Crone, but the stereotype just can’t stand up to the occasional display of modernist and postmodernist technique from its artists. All of creation is to be exalted in art, say the Acolytes, and there is no conceivable subject or method of performance that is excluded from creation, hence there can be no taboos in the Circle’s world of art.
Veneration in Life
To better find harmony with the living world and help preserve a sense of peace and belonging, many Acolytes of the covenant engage in a concerted effort to support and protect living beings. Plants, pets, mortal charges and even a few Ghouls are carefully guarded and groomed as a means to demonstrate a vampire’s devotion to thebeauty and potential of life.The gardeners of the Circle take great pride in the attention they pay to their “verdant prayer,” regardless of the actual size of their plots. Most cultivate amazing displays of controlled wilderness, encouraging the abundant growth of wildflowers, weeds and trees within their chosen territory. To wander in the gardens of the Acolyte growers is to know the wide and varied possibilities of nature in one’s domain. For the true natural worshipper, every bud and leaf is a sacred surprise, a player in the never-ending flux of regeneration and decay that reflects the whole of the world around it.
The appearance of the gardens may be wild, but not for a lack of attention. The fact is that each individual growth is meticulously cared for, but never interfered with. The goal is to recognize and honor the features of creation’s many facets, not to impose aesthetic choices.
A garden is more than an accumulation of plants. A whole ecology of insects, birds and rodents are bound take up residence in a natural growth, allowing the vampire to observe and interact with a miniature replica of the living world. Some Kindred feed on these visitors, while others place them under their protection.
Many Kindred, including outsiders, have had occasion to comment on the profound psychological impact that an expertly maintained garden can have on those who walk within its growth. Most accuse the Acolyte keepers of imbuing their gardens with some magickal effect, but the truth is that visitors are simply experiencing nature in all its beauty, loved and maintained by a faithful devotee — an extremely unusual circumstance for vampires.
The Acolyte’s urge to maintain natural projects doesn’t begin and end with plant life. Many dedicated worshippers care for living animal pets or companions, venerating them as representatives of the natural world or real manifestations of totemic spirits. These Kindred will make use of whatever talents and powers they possess to quell the instinctive discomfort animals feel around the undead so as to better ease relations, but will avoid feeding their Vitae to the creatures because of the awareness of the supernatural change it will incur.
Some will populate their temples and sacred spaces with their animal charges. Single creatures might become the adopted pet of an entire Circle, or every member of a specific species might be protected by the Acolytes. The litany of one Southeast Asian domain highlights bats as the “holy messengers of The Crone,” and all the covenant’s ritual spaces in the area are home to hundreds of the winged creatures. In one Eastern European domain, all domestic cats are considered charges of the Circle, and anyone who harms one risks incurring the wrath of the covenant.
Acolytes often accept strays, feeding and caring for them when they approach, but refuse to restrain the creature or otherwise impose unnatural rules upon them. If an animal chooses to return again and again to a certain vampire’s house, she may accept it as a pet (and even revere it), but she will never claim to “own” it.
Of course, not every Acolyte is so freewheeling or interprets “reverence” the same way. Some do keep and train beasts, breeding them for the development of preferred features. Often, training is excused by Kindred who claim to know the divine origin of these creatures and seek to return them to their natural state. Household pets are taught to shed their pampered lives and stalk the city as fierce hunters, bred for size and speed.
In some domains, the litany of The Crone may call for the worship of mortals bearing specific divine features (or even of specific mortals, born of a chosen line). The duty of the Acolytes is to protect and care for these humans, whether they know of their benefactors or not. Through these humans, the Acolytes show their concern and dedication to the welfare of The Crone and her many progeny.
Occasionally, a Hierophant will assign Acolytes to a random mortal, teaching them to love creation in any form (even, perhaps, a particularly ugly, poorly mannered one or an enemy from the Acolyte’s days as a mortal). The prosperity of the mortal in question becomes a measure of the faith and commitment of the Kindred under instruction. Pity the mortal who becomes this living prayer, as she will rarely have an inkling of what’s happening to her, and many are incapable of understanding or accepting their sudden shiftin fortune. A number of Acolytes make the mistake of giving the mortal too much, too quickly, and can do nothing but watch in horror as their charges spiral out of control. Other Acolytes interpret the positive influence of tribulation too intensely, and grind their mortal wards down under torments that may seem insurmountable. Worse, outsider Kindred may discover a human prayer’s significance to the Circle without grasping the reason and may seek to do damage to the covenant by harming her.
Some humans are bred and trained as a mortal Chorus, supporting the Acolytes of the Circle in a given domain. Fully faithful members of the organization, these mortals become servants of the covenant without the benefit of Kindred Vitae — an arrangement that is worrisome to outsiders, to say the least. These Allies are privy to the secrets of the litany without necessarily realizing the nature of their superiors. Secret tribal societies arise in the middle of urban developments, peopled by mortals seeking a spiritual alternative to the modern way of life. They may participate in Crúac rituals, if the local system allows it, and candidates for Embrace are often picked from their number.
In opposition to common practice, some Acolytes advocate a ban on “friendly relations” with humans and animals. Vampires are predators, these Acolytes argue, and were created to be predators. It is not for them to coddle prey, or to venerate it. To them, the only way to worship the natural world is to acknowledge their place as hunters in it, and fulfill their natural purpose. These stern cults rarely last long, though, since their members tend to slip into the snarling embrace of the Beast with relatively little delay.
When certain mortals prove their worth to the covenant, whether through faithful attendance, ardent belief or some more esoteric process of selection, they may be gifted with vampire Vitae, transforming them into the ghoul votaries of the Circle. There the veneration ends, though, and the hapless (or fortunate?) mortal embarks on a journey of her own, for she has passed from the natural world of her former life into the supernatural milieu of the Kindred.
The Power of Unconsciousness
Most Acolytes admit and understand the power of ecstasy in their practice: the ability to lose awareness of the self, to focus on nothing but one s will. Eventually, with experience, many argue that they are no longer channeling their own will, but that of The Crone directly.The loss of conscious attentiveness in worship is a sacred state of being, a moment of cosmic assuranceas the vampire continues to function uncluttered by the petty, noisy doubts of the self-aware.Different cults have different ways of describing this ideal meditative state. Certain Eastern Acolytes claim that they are shedding the layers of illusion implicit in the natural world, becoming nothing more than the impulse of The Crone in pure form, even if only for a moment. One particular cult in France claims that an instant of thoughtlessness is an instant of actual physical contact with The Crone herself, leading to a brief annihilation of ego in her immense, incomprehensible being. This is exactly akin, they say, to being a drop of water that is allowed a fleeting immersion in the whole of the ocean and then withdrawn again.
The ideal state of unconsciousness will be sought either in preparation for ritual worship or as part of the worship itself. Many Hierophants teach their cults to recognize seven distinct avenues to this state: five natural and two unique to Kindred. Some Hierophants create elaborate systems of instruction, leading their Acolytes through all seven in a long and difficult divinity quest that confronts the worst parts of their being in sequence and illustrates the means to conquer the self provided by the gods. Other Hierophants focus on a single avenue, believing that it is the most spiritual, the most effective or just the most simple.
The Five Natural Avenues
The first of the natural avenues is considered by many to be the only one completely free of implied desire, and thus the ideal. It is achieved by simple physical exertion — often a repetitive series of moves or dances that are pounded through, again and again, until the Acolyte is simply incapable of thought. The monotony of the exercise is key to achieving the ideal state of mind, much to the dismay of the most inexperienced members of a Circle. Being told that one has to repeat a single dance step for seven nights straight before being allowed to take part in an important ritual can be quite a shock for young Acolytes, especially if they’re still operating on amodern, impatiently goal-oriented mortal perspective.Truth to tell, the form this exercise takes is less important than the state of mind the exercise creates. Running in place will do the job just as effectively as dancing an elaborately choreographed, 100-step tribal routine. Some cults engage in the practice of burdening — placing a dense weight on the backs of their members and demanding that they stand at attention throughout a long process of preparation for ritual. Some swim or sprint to an isolated sacred space. Some chant endlessly circular mantras constantly, refusing refreshment and pausing only to sleep through the days. The endurance of ritually administered pain is also considered simple physical exertion for the Acolytes of the covenant, as is maintaining immobility for extended periods.
Kindred don’t get tired, per se, so the exercises of the Acolytes can be mind-boggling in their length. Tales are told of Kindred worshippers who start dancing and never stop, allowing themselves to become an embodied prayer in motion. Whispering worshippers, always chanting, are known to have emerged in certain cults, ignoring the inevitable accusations of madness as they engage in a monolithic, decades-long recitation in honor of The Crone’s eternal Majesty.
The second natural avenue is battle. Tainted by desire in its common form and most commonly associated with the Vices of Envy and Wrath, battle is acknowledged as both a dangerous and staggeringly effective means to achieving the state of consciousness most conducive to ritual. There are experienced Acolytes who claim that it is possible, with enough practice, to arrive at a state of aimless violence — an unconscious endeavor stripped of all polluting thought and transforming the Acolyte into an engine of devotional sacrifice.
Some cults demand preparation in battle before entering into ritual (or as one of the stages of the ritual itself). There are those cults that make a dueling circle of their sacred space, encouraging Acolytes to face off against one another in appallingly brutal exercise. Most of the Kindred who participate in these ritual duels testify to a sensation of exhilarated mindlessness that overtakes them under the right conditions. Other, more dangerous cults require that their members do battle with outsiders before they can attempt contact with the gods. These cults construct a state of perpetual war for themselves, always seeking out enemies and victims on which to hone their bloody state of unconscious veneration.
It can be astonishing to see a warring Acolyte operating in the state of mind considered ideal for worship. The effect is nothing like frenzy — in fact, it’s very nearly the opposite of the animalist red tide of rage or hunger that overtakes all Kindred. The experienced practitioner of the Circle’s thoughtless combat is rather a creature of pure martial understanding, machinelike in her precision and completely without mercy or doubt.
Sex is the third of the avenues to mindlessness. Equally tainted by conscious desire, sex is associated with the Vices of Lust and Gluttony. In many cults, sexual practice is ritualized in itself, leading to an altered state of consciousness in participating Acolytes and clearing them for the intense energies of Crúac. Some actually integrate sex with the central ritual itself, achieving the effect at the moment of ego loss that arrives at the height of pleasure.
But sex within the Circle is not what some Acolytes expect. The experience can be very pleasurable, but ritual practice seeks an ideal of virtuous desirelessness and so avoids the choices an inexperienced initiate is most likely to gravitate toward. If there is a member of the Circle he finds especially attractive, he is discouraged from partnering with her in the sacred space. If there isa practice he finds particularly disgusting or disturbing, he is likewise restricted from participating. The ideal approach, as instructed by many a Hierophant, is a state of detached openness.
To achieve this admittedly difficult attitude, younger Kindred often resort to techniques or conditions created to assist in damping desire. Simple restriction of the senses is applied in some domains — worship in darkness or in opaque muffling masks. In others, mantras and elaborately ritualized movements are practiced. Older vampires, while no less moved by desire, often admit that sexual practice without its taint seems easier for them, simply because of their dimming memories. The pleasurable sensations of copulation are all tied with living function, and the cold bodies of the Kindred can only simulate the experience with a significant expenditureof Vitae. If they don’t bother to warm themselves, sex for vampires can become no less mechanical than running in place.
The fourth avenue to unconscious worship is an extremely popular one among Acolytes of the Circle, since this path is well supported by both of the basic tenets of the covenant. This avenue is realized in the construction of devotional Materials, and is most commonly linked to artistic practices. It is also a potential spiritual trap, according to some Hierophants, and is associated with the Vices of Pride and Greed. Just as each of the otheravenues, construction must be approached with due reverence and engaged in with pure intentions.
Construction as exertion requires more than the technique of an artisan. The Acolyte who chooses to worship in this manner must throw the whole of her self into the creation of her works. A sculptor must pound at the chisel unto the limits of endurance. A painter must labor without pause, constantly laying pigment onto the canvas regardless of time spent or personal desire. A poet will scream his verses into the sky even as they occur to him, rending his own throat with their force. Only in this manner can the vampire achieve a state of pure devotion and mindless servitude to the will of The Crone.
Many cults employ additional tactics to aid the Acolyte in separating herself from her works, ensuring that their creation is a purely worshipful act. Some insist that the Acolytes gather to destroy each piece at the conclusion of their rituals, so that nothing remains of them (and thus, there is nothing to be proud of). Other Acolytes decree that the works are to be constructed of perishable Materials, which will proceed to rot naturally after presentation. One Circle in Southeast Asia has adopted the peculiar practice of denying responsibility for their creations, choosing instead a notional spirit manifestation and crediting it with the work.
The fifth and final natural avenue is the hunt. Predation is a function of the living world, and those Kindred who learn to lose themselves in the activity without giving themselves over to the Beast find a new and potent means to achieving the uncorrupted essence of worship. In Kindred existence, many cults associate the hunt with the Vice of Sloth, because the hunt tempts the rational Man to slumber when it is most needed: in controlling the irrational demands of the Beast, and in the lethargy associated with both extreme hunger and the satiation that follows feeding.
Those who choose to worship in the hunt are likely to engage in starvation practices to heighten the urgency of their need and ensure that the activity satisfies only the natural requirement to feed, not the lust of the Beast. They ration their Vitae, subsisting on less than most Kindred. Periods of careful idleness are punctuated by an extremely aggressive hunt, allowing the vampire to slip between the extremes of near-comatose hunger and nearlunatic fervor. Never at either extreme is the Acolyte to succumb to the temptations that await: Torpor in periods of inactivity and frenzy in the act of the hunt.
A number of cults around the world integrate the hunt into their rituals and rites, performing their acts of sorcery and veneration in the midst of stalking prey. The energies that arise from this practice are said to be terrifying, even to those who call them forth. The spiritual vibration maintained between desperation and madness is too much for many Kindred, who collapse in one direction or the other. But those who can maintain a balance often find that they can employ the resultant state of energized, abnormal calm to devastating effect.
The Unnatural Avenues
The sixth avenue to unconscious worship is the first of two unnatural paths: frenzy. Flirting with the most dangerous aspects of vampire nature, some Acolytes approach Meditation through subsuming themselves in the mindless paroxysms of the Beast. These Acolytes argue that the every aspect of the creation of The Crone is fraught with meaning and purpose, and the frenzying tendencies of the Kindred are no exception. Viewing their outbursts as no less sacred than an earthquake or hurricane, these Acolytes choose to explore the possibilities of fueling their ritual workings in the dark depths of Wassail and Rötschreck.Even among Acolytes who worship in frenzy, there are degrees. Some cults carefully prepare their sacred space for a storm of mindless abandon, restraining their members with heavy chain to ensure that the ritual chamber itself is not disrupted. Other cults believe that no concessions should be allowed: the vampires involved are encouraged to throw themselves into the storm ofunconscious mania without limit.
Frenzy is associated, by those who care to discuss the state in intellectual terms, with all Vices. Frenzy is considered by all but the most depraved cults to be the full and final expression of the worst part of any vampire. The loss of conscious ego under frenzy’s influence is irrefutable and easily demonstrated, so it is still considered an avenue to achieving the meditative worship sought after by many.
The second unnatural avenue, and the final of the seven avenues, is the practice of ritual Torpor. Rarely attempted by younger or less experienced Acolytes, it involves the willful collapse into the sleep of ages, allowing one’s self to drift aimlessly in the unconscious haze therein. The vampire loses all contact with the natural world and his own body, abandoning himself to the dreams chosen for him by The Crone. Ideally, a vampire learns to achieve a meditative state within this unconscious world, witnessing and accepting the visions that are presented to him therein. Just going to sleep isn’t enough — one must learn to relax into the current of Torpor’s dreams, “traveling” calmly and attentively under their influence.
Most Acolytes who engage in this practice become the center of certain sacred rites in their cults. A schedule of sleep is set for these Acolytes, complete with a ritual celebrating the commencement of their slumber and another ceremony for waking. Often, the schedule is set by a calendar of natural events (phases or eclipses of the moon, certain dates and the passage of seasons are all common) or unpredictable occurrences (the next time it snows, the next occurrence of a meteor shower). The slumbering vampire is usually said to be “in prayer,” and her oft-confused first words upon waking are generally treated as oracular proclamations. Some cults go so far as to reserve important decisions for these ritual awakenings, choosing to read and interpret the waking statements of the Kindred sleepers for guidance.
Ritual Torpor is a fearsome journey for many Acolytes. It is well documented that those with violent Requiems may be subjected to a seemingly endless progression of torturous, guilt-ridden dreams. Those who emerge from a sacred sleep invariably find themselves diminished in power, and occasionally seem diminished in capacity. Some go irretrievably mad. Some arise with shattered memories, never quite understanding who they were before the sleep. But all who engage in a ritual Torpor are holy, somehow touched by what gods or goddesses the Kindred of the Circle revere. Whatever happens to these vampires is in keeping with the wishes of The Crone, and any Acolyte who willingly enters the sacred sleep is generally considered a visionary of the finest caliber.
Some experienced Acolytes with a history of successes on one or more of these avenues claim that they eventually achieve a state of constant prayer-in-action, in which Meditation is integrated into every waking and sleeping moment of being. These Kindred claim that the Requiems that follow for them become harmonious, natural affairs. These Acolytes move smoothly through the nights, honoring The Crone and her natural creation in everything they see and do, never failing to find theirplace in worship. This is not Golconda, say the Acolytes, because this is not an attempt to escape the truth of Kindred existence. The enlightened vampire still feeds and frenzies — but that feeding and that frenzy are serene elements of an operative whole. This state may be centuries in coming, but the promise of achieving this state is something that keeps many a young Acolyte in faithful practice from night to night.
Most Acolytes who have attained this state recommend that a vampire seek the unconscious Requiem through all seven avenues, each in sequence or all at once. There are some Hierophants who create a rigid program of progression, taking their Acolytes through a series of arduous exercises meant to illustrate each path. The cult of one domain in the Middle East encourages all of its members to follow a complicated course of training and tribulation to find their Meditation in every avenue, each of which is split into six sublevels. Their course is modeled on a notional internal structure, the “Palace in Vitae,” that the Acolyte must build over time, taking decades to complete each of the 42 stages. It is said that those who achieve the completion of even two or three stages are clearly and demonstrably more comfortable and capable than average, unschooled Kindred, and that the magics of Crúac come much more easily to them.
Whether the claims of the Acolytes are true or not, it cannot be denied that the exercise of meditative prayer in-action lends them purpose. No vampire who seriously seeks the completion of these paths is ever idle, and that fact alone may aid in understanding the value of the covenant. Formerly aimless Kindred who feel that they are fulfilling a spiritual quest are lent a sureness of self and a means of satisfaction unavailable to those who are too cynical or otherwise unwilling to participate.
The Power of a Chorus
A vast majority of Acolytes in The Circle of the Crone will readily testify to the increased power of a ritual performed by a unified group. Some claim that the most potent Crúac rituals are only really possible to complete with the support of a Chorus, and that the result is rarely favorable in solitary practice. There are a multitude of theories attempting to explain this co-operative effect, but none can be considered universal.Storytellers wishing to reinforce this aspect of ritual worship may wish to set a “neutral” number of worshippers, maintaining it as the middle ground and applying bonuses or penalties to a Crúac roll for a larger or smaller number of worshippers.
For Example: The Storyteller decides that two worshippers is the neutral number for Crúac rituals in his game. If two Acolytes gather to perform a ritual, the player whose character is leading the ritual would roll with no modifier. If one Acolyte were to attempt the ritual alone, the Storyteller would apply a –1 penalty to the roll for being under the neutral number of worshippers. On the other hand, if four Acolytes were cooperating, the player whose character is leading the ritual would roll with a +2 bonus.
Quality of Work
If an Acolyte’s artwork is judged on its surface Merits, it can be represented by a simple Intelligence + Crafts roll, just as any other piece might be. But in the society of The Circle of the Crone, the “quality of worship” is just as important (if not more so) than the “quality of work.” In point of fact, the only way to read that quality is to examine the amount of work involved in creating the art. Because of this, Acolyte characters may gain a bonus when showing work that they’ve spent more time on to covenant-mates. A good rule of thumb is to say that every month the character spends beyond the normal creation time for the artwork affords the character a +1 bonus (up to a maximum of +5) on the Intelligence + Crafts roll for the purpose of Acolyte examination alone.Example: Clara, a young Acolyte, is painting an image of flowers in a field. The Storyteller determines that the painting would normally take Clara about two weeks to complete, but Clara’s player decides that she will spend an additional three months on the work, carefully going over and over each brushstroke and layering in detail. She rolls Intelligence + Crafts first, gaining a total of three successes. It’s a very good painting, but it’s not a work of genius. However, she next rolls three bonus dice for her extra effort, gaining two more successes. If a mortal were to see the painting, he would think it was pretty good (three successes). If a fellow Acolyte examined it, though, the devotion in the painting would be clear to him, and he would deem it exquisite (five successes).
The Song of The Crone
Some Acolyte myths claim that The Crone actually sang the universe into existence, shaping the energies of the void with her voice alone. The legend claims that every creature, object and concept in the universe is associated with a melody. Furthermore, they claim that this melody can be learned and duplicated to incredibly powerful effect, but will destroy all but the most dedicated and sincere worshippers who attempt the melody.Most Kindred are cynical, regarding this tale as little more than a primitive myth. However, some scholars of The Ordo Dracul have noticed a correlation between the claims of these musical Acolytes and the suggestions of quantum string theory, with its assertion that the building blocks of reality are composed of hyperdimensional strings, each vibrating with specific pitch and frequency.
The Profundity of Nature
A vampire may actually experience a concrete change in mood or temper when entering one of the maintained gardens of The Circle of the Crone (or, for that matter, any wild floral display that is extremely well cared-for), but the nature of the effect differs depending on the observer. In some cases, the Beast seems to be calmed temporarily, providing a brief respite for the Kindred viewer. In others, the Beast is excited by the natural surroundings, tempting the vampire to more animalist behavior.The deciding factor in these cases is actually the Humanity of the vampire involved. Not surprisingly, the more human he is, the more beneficial his reaction to the burst of thriving greenery. Some Acolytes actually learn to understand this distinction, and use their gardens as a means to gauge the strength of the Beast within a vampire. It’s common for new Acolytes to be tested and observed in one of these gardens so that the Hierophant can best determine how to school him.
At the Storyteller’s option, an remarkably well-maintained garden (either Intelligence + Science or Intelligence + Crafts with more than 25 accumulated successes, each roll representing at least 40 hours of non-consecutive work) may alter a vampire’s tendency to frenzy when she engages in meditative exercise — restful sitting, contemplative walks, or the act of gardening itself — within its boundaries. Those Kindred with more than 5 Humanity will gain a +1 to rolls resisting frenzy while the activity continues. Those with less than 5 actually suffer a –1 penalty on those rolls. Exceptionally large gardens may confer a higher bonus or penalty, if appropriate.
Transformation Cults
Many of the domains led by Gangrel Hierophants tend to emphasize the connection between Kindred and the animal world. These vampires may conduct rituals in animal form via the use of Shape of the Beast (Protean ••••) or Subsume the Lesser Spirit (Animalism ••••), or they may demand that all Acolytes learn the power to take the shape of local wildlife. Some even claim that the immortal bodies they now possess are temporary shells hosting the spirits of animals.Regardless of claims to the contrary, very few of these Hierophants are madmen or torpor-addled wretches. They have a very clear understanding of their mortal human lives, but are also powerfully aware that their Humanity is dwindling and they must do whatever they can to stave off total psychological collapse. If believing that they are “truly” cats or alligators or hawks helps to keep the Beast at bay in some fashion, then the function is served.
A Storyteller must determine whether taking the physical form of an animal helps compartmentalize the Beast (and thus keep it from overwhelming the Man) or whether it actually makes things worse for the vampire who attempts this. Belief does not always lead to truth, no matter how fervently adhered to.
Sacrificing a Friend
Not every mortal who joins The Chorus of The Circle of the Crone benefits from the arrangement. In several domains, there is the practice of inviting a hapless living human into the ranks of the Circle, allowing the human access to the litany and even gifting him with the benefits of several Crúac rituals. As the human becomes intrinsically tied to the local Acolytes, so he seals his fate. The closer he grows to the vampires of the covenant, the more valuable he becomes to them — and the more powerful a sacrifice he represents. Offered up at the most sacred rites (or to fuel the most potent magicks), he is transformed from trusted friend into a painstakingly manufactured loss for the entire Circle.The destruction of a mortal who befriends the Acolytes in this manner, unawares, is of course a heinous sin against Humanity. Storytellers may actually wish to rate it lower on the hierarchy than the standard 3 for planned murder, considering the lies and ultimate betrayal that are intrinsic to the rite.
Achieving Natural Mindlessness
Running the characters through the attempt to achieve unconscious function is a great way to add color to a particularly important ritual in a story. This can become the focus of a chapter as a tribulation on its own, or can be one of a series of requirements to complete a major working. Storytellers who wish to do so may wish to use this optional mechanic to help model the process and enhance roleplay.When a character is attempting to reach this meditation-in-action, call for an extended Composure + Wits roll, with the number of required successes equaling 30 Humanity (so a character with 6 Humanity would need 24 successes). The length of time each roll represents is variable: for some avenues (most likely sex and battle), you might make one roll per round. In others, one roll might represent an hour or a night. The resulting meditative state, once achieved, has the same duration. In general, the Storyteller should set a maximum on the number of rolls the player can make in one attempt — most often bounded by time constraints in the story.
There are two factors that may modify the roll. The first is the Merit “Meditative Mind,” which should add a bonus +1 to every attempt. The second depends on previous performance. If a character successfully achieves the unconscious state in activity, he gains a +1 bonus on his next attempt to do so. If he fails (giving up before achieving the state), he suffers a –1 penalty on his next attempt.
Example: Julius the Daeva is attempting to find the state of unconscious activity in dance during a ritual, as instructed by his Hierophant. He has a Humanity of 7, so he needs 30 – 7 = 23 successes to get to the proper frame of mind. However, the last time he tried this, he didn’t get there before the ritual was done, and so will suffer a –1 penalty on all his rolls. The Storyteller decides that each roll will represent 10 minutes of dancing, and that the ritual takes one hour. If Julius succeeds, he will enjoy 10 uninterrupted minutes of pure, unconscious function and perform the ritual to the Hierophant’s satisfaction. Julius’ Composure + Wits totals five dice, so (with the penalty figured in), his player has 6 four-dice rolls to try and get 23 successes. Note that how well Julius dances is not represented here (that would require a Dexterity + Expression roll), and is not relevant to this exercise.
Devotion or Depravity
As a Storyteller, you should be careful with letting characters justify their actions by claiming frenzy as an avenue to proper worship. Every Acolyte, no matter how deeply sincere and noble she is in her intent, must still come to terms with the consequences of her actions while under the influence of the Beast. Furthermore, a vampire who frenzies a lot and makes little or no effort to contextualize his outbursts with ritual activity will be quickly spotted and confronted by a capable Hierophant.The normal meditation-in-action roll doesn’t apply to a frenzying Acolyte; he is automatically in a mindless state. The usefulness of the character’s attempt and the ability to frame it in an appropriate context are where difficulty presents itself.
To reflect the ritual base surrounding a “proper” frenzy, the Storyteller may require a player to make a Meditation (Composure + Wits) or occult practice (Intelligence + Occult) roll. If the roll fails, the character does not restrain herself to the planned choreography of the rite, somehow disrupting it (by entering frenzy too early or failing to come out of it in time).
Design or Accident
As in the case of ritual frenzy, Torpor is not something that is automatically considered a sacred journey. It’s rarely enough for a vampire to slip into unconsciousness outside of the ritual space of the Circle and then rise, claiming that she has been granted a great vision. Her fellow Acolytes are a lot more likely to take her seriously if she engaged in the ceremonial preparations before Torpor, slept for the prescribed length of time and was awakened in a properly conducted rite of return. Anybody can sleep, but very few Kindred are willing to undergo the planned, ritual sleep of the questing Acolyte.Those vampires who are willing to take this risk are likely to be treated with real respect, so Storytellers may wish to tie Status requirements and rewards to the practice. For example, Acolytes with less than Covenant Status •• may not be allowed to perform the slumbering Meditation, while those who have successfully performed it in the past might be guaranteed elevation to no less than Covenant Status ••• when they awake.