WH, You dont know me. If youre smart, you never will. For now, call me Aeschylus.

Your little compiler wont tell you, but he found several of his precious files missing. I took them. These are only a few of what weve acquired from you - the rest are in a very secure place, and will be given into much less accommodating hands should you try anything stupid. You have one chance. This project of yours is dangerous to all of us. End it now, before you lose something more precious than a few files. Aeschylus

The following was sent to one of my agents in Vienna. I think of it as charmingly out of date, but not particularl y inaccurate . According to a seer who handled it, this document was typed around 1912, apparently as part of a successors guide from sire to childer.

Above all, respect your betters, then your elders, in that order. Beyond that, remember that your power benefits the clan you can do more for your kin as Prince than you can as Priscus. Your station within the clan is a measure of familial love and respect, but while we may love our fathers and mothers, all Kindred must bow before the Prince.

The DuTies

of

LorDs

Were not sure who the author is.

Attend to the eldest Lord in the realm with respect, formality and fear. In past nights, we have regarded the eldest Lord in our domain as Priscus, even if he is away in a long rest. The walking Priscus was a provisional position awarded to the eldest of us who was about nightly. In our domain, this has never been in fashion, but perhaps when I am buried and asleep you will consider enacting it. Our Priscus, as the paterfamilias or materfamilias, is entitled to summon meetings of the clan and its knowing assets every month. Our Priscus is entitled to the haven of his choice, of those available to our clan within the domain. Our Priscus is entitled to drink once of any Kindred or kine within our clans reach or dominion. Our Priscus is entitled to speak, in open sight of the clan or in private congress with individual Lords, on any topic or action being considered. Our Priscus may approve the taking and dismissal of ghouls, as the blood they get in alms is his blood. Let us never forget the value of survival and endurance, nor the cunning necessary to outlast ones neighbors and enemies. Though you may not think your Priscus is the most knowledgeable, the most ambitious, or the best informed of the clan, remember that he is the oldest and therefore knows vital secrets for getting older. Listen and be bettered. Remember always that the eldest of the clan is regarded as Priscus only if that Kindred is also in residence within the domain. Trespassers and nomads gain no special rights for their visitation, even if they should be feared and respected for their age.

on

The

Priscus

The Ephors continue to be an important part of our success, even though some cities have either abandoned or forgotten the custom of their appointment. The name of the Ephors comes down to us from Sparta, where they were five aged advisors and nobles. Though we borrow their name, our practice of the Ephors is not from the Spartan people but from the legends that reveal them to us (remember your Lycurgus!). We began using these Ephor legends in the time of Alba Longa, but the practice more likely began in the Carolingian age, when our rule across the Holy Roman Empire brought us into touch with all the other races of our Kindred and required us to know and understand them. It is best to have Ephors drawn of every race of the mortals Caucasian, Negro, Oriental, all should have their unique perspective represented so that you (or your betters) can anticipate strife. No more than Lords should be granted the title of Ephor in any realm, and it is better to err on the side of caution by being short in Ephors. Otherwise you are doling out more power than necessary, which is always a mistake. Traditionally, each Ephor is tasked within the domain to another race of Kindred with which to liaise, but also to observe and understand. The Ephors should be quick studies with have the instincts of an inspector while also demonstrating the persuasiveness and poise of an ambassador. Remember, in addition to gathering information, the Ephors represent you and all other Lords. Customarily, Ephors are among the elder Kindred in the domain, but this has gone out of fashion in recent decades. Similarly, Ephors are typically well compensated for their work, often with money, assets, desirable havens, concubines and titles. This, too, is unnecessary. Do not make the mistake of confusing an Ephor with a spy. While spying may be one thing an Ephor does to better fulfill his duty, his role must not be treated as one of espionage or, indeed, deception. Avoid letting an Ephor be put into a position where he must lie an omission of the truth may be acceptable, but do not destroy the Ephors standing with the other races by casting him as a spy. Instead, use the information you gain from the Ephors to make better use of your spies, while giving the Ephors enough distance from such missions that they may maintain genuine deniability.

on

The

ePhors

The Ephors duty is to represent not simply what his appointed group wants or thinks, but also how they appear to his trained eye. What are they planning that they might not want to report? What are their genuine, undisguised reactions to the business of the court and the clan, even if they are not the reactions they would like to have known by their neighbors and enemies? The Ephor must know.

Equally likely to be loyal lieutenants as blustering cockalorums, the Whips are essential to the maintenance of Ventrue culture and character in the domain, regardless of what that domains culture is or what the Whips motives are for doing the work. Loudmouthed, self-aggrandizing Whips simply need to be kept on a leash. They have the advantage, then, of being seen as the back of a better Ventrues hand, and thus they represent the power and authority of their masters. More trustworthy Whips may be allowed to act according to their own measure, which has the advantage of presenting a purer image of character shared across the Kindred of the clan. Look, say the groundlings, even without a better looking over his shoulder, the Whip acts the way the Lords talk. Ive known Whips who were bullies or thugs, and Ive known Whips that were like campaign managers and ships captains. Some young Lords need to be led in song, others need to be herded into the church. The proper tool for the proper job. What too many Princes and Prisci do wrong, in my opinion, is make the lazy assumption that Whips are a necessity. This is a dangerously self-demoting assumption. A strong leader is his clans own Whip, leading the rabble and the officers with his own sterling words. When the position of Whip becomes institutionalized or overly ritualized to the point that it becomes seemingly mandatory, the clan in the domain is in trouble. Then the ruling Lord may feel compelled to place a substandard or ill-fitting whelp into the role, just to fill the seat or keep the whelp busy. A mistake, either way. A weak Whip does worse than fail at his task: he can undermine the image of the clan and cause divisiveness among the Lords. Treachery always follows. Therefore, assign a Whip only when the domain has gotten to such a size that nightly work becomes impossible for you to do yourself. You cannot lead the meeting at the same time you are out wrangling the commoners to attend. Look to Hounds and Harpies as Whips Hounds for marshalling, Harpies for coaxing. Find a couple of Jacks who may strive to use the title to promote themselves within the clan or the city. Break your siblings and childer from any notion that the Whip should be a Kindred of a particular age; such thinking leads to casual disdain as the commoners (Lords and lessers alike) label the Whip too young or too old for the role, before he even has his chance to excel. Do not keep a Whip for one night beyond his usefulness. If the body of the clan can be kept in line by your own voice (perhaps youve attained a new station in the city which your lesser Kindred now respect), dissolve the position of the Whip. Reward the worker, perhaps. If a Whip loses credibility or is openly defied, make an example of him through exile, humiliation, a blood oath or even torpor. Declare him a helot, perhaps.

on

The

WhiPs

I included this because I thought it was an interesting glimpse back. In the past ninety years these three roles have changed so little, but the way we talk about them seems to have changed so much. My Priscus was much more casual than this one sounds. He was even grandfatherly, but as quick to punish you as he was to reward you. Its interesting to me, though, since the custom of being given the floor (or a discreet ear) seems to be the same as the way we did it. My Priscus was given territory by the Prince, but nothing special. Didnt have enough to pass down to us, so we got what we got for our own pledges and servitude to the court. When I was young, the Ephors were the real face of the clan in my city. Every one had territory, every one owed red rent to the Prince. They were like another layer of Primogen gathered around the Priscus. They decided what image wed put on for the others and the Whip spread the word. I doubt we met more than twice a year, though. We were pretty well into our routine when I was a fledgling. When I was Ephor to the Shadows, there were so few of us left on our feet that the whole custom felt like a stupid act. Like a play for no audience. Our Priscus was an Ephor; the only Lord who wasnt was our Whip (but all she did was run messages for us and keep the ghouls in line). So I guess Ive included that letter b/c even after 90 years, its good advice. Just scrape off all the other bullshit.

Okay. Whoever wrote this should be strung up by their heels and slowly lowered into a bucket of blood-addicted botfly larvae. To posit that the Ventrue are just one big bloodline offshoot of the Savages is Well. It turns my stomach. And very little turns my stomach these nights. This is something that I had hoped was local, but isnt. A number of Crone-worshipping Lords seem to have jumped on board with this idea, which is frankly appalling. Most Ventrue in the Circle have the good sense to believe themselves the relations to or children of gods. This kind of blasphemy, though, which takes it to such an absurd level? Ugh. Revolting. Frankly, like any religious text, its occluded in all kinds of pseudospiritual waffle. At least its not very convincing.

The Dark Mother watched as the false-faced ones were consumed by the swallowing of the world and the sinking of the seven hills. Those of the legacy thought to usurp the destiny of all those of the Blood, but it was not to be, for the Mother of Monsters knew them to be pretenders. She, the Mother Savage, saw that these civilized few were not what they claimed at all, but had holes where their hearts should have been, holes in which ghosts could crawl. Once the pretenders were ousted there remained only five families: those of the dark, those of the worms, those of the mirror, her own children of the moon, and those who remain hidden. With the pretenders dead, the table could not stand. And so with this weakness the destiny of the Dark Mother was in danger, and the time came that the Savage Mother sought to recomplete the circle once more. She needed a childe who could walk among both man and beast as king, and so she dragged a human king, Taharka, into the temple at Gebel Barkal, and she consumed his heart and his blood and gave him part of her heart and a droplet of her blood in return. This outpouring of the Dark Mothers power scored the walls with images of Taharka the Lord, the progenitor of the dead kings, the keeper of the scepter of the Savage Moon. Taharka the Lord was both man and beast: as swift and ferocious as a lion, as commanding and intelligent as a king. He could speak to the snakes and urge the hearts of all men. He too had a hole in his heart where worms could creep, and all of his children are host to this same hole. This hole, born of the imperfection of the blood and bored into the meat by the weakening of the Mothers own monstrous blood, still remains a terrible weakness to this day. Should the ghosts return they have a place in which to creep, as weightless as a breath but as heavy as sin. The children of Taharka do not believe it possible that they come from what they believe to be such impure stock. They do not seel the pride in being the active heart of the Mother of Monsters, the grasping heart of the Savage Mother, and this may be their failing. In pushing away the true stories they fail to recognize the hole in their heart, and when the ghosts once more rise, they will not know how to call upon the Dark Mother and the moon to stop them.

The encircled Kings

Colonialism and the migration of lords

Colonialism is a much more formal word than what I think wed pick if we were to give the custom a name tonight. That name came up, I dont know, in the 1500s, even though wed been doing this same thing for a thousand years by then. For whatever reason, it stuck, and we still havent shaken it off. So when I left Holland for England, I wasnt simply dodging an overcrowded and frankly hostile domain of overlapping fiefs just to get a chance at landing my own territory in Manchester or Aberdeen or even London. Instead, I was a colonial, boldly going to bring my sires wonderful Blood to a new city, as my sire would say, and thus expanding our worth for both of us. Tonight Id be like a kid going off to college to make my own way in the world. Nothing special, these nights, among mortals. The neonates Ive spoken to about this all seem to think that braving a new city stalked by anonymous, territorial monsters is no big deal. Because they havent done it. I can think of... hm, seven? Ten? Plenty of whelps whove gone off to other cities in search of their own power or lordship and just disappearing into the night. Maybe theyre just not reaching back to maintain their connections to their old cities and their sires, but Ill bet that they never made it to the city nor did they make it in the city. For those poor bastards, its a short story. Tonights mortals are brought up thinking that inheriting the family business or inheriting your parents home or staying in the town where you grew up is so often a sign of weakness. They think its pathetic, basically. Theyve been raised on bedtime stories of world explorers, whether its Cook or Columbus or Indiana Jones. Going places is the only way to know that youre going places, I guess. A lot of these fledglings have trouble adapting to the idea that they may have to wait in the shadow of their sires for decades for a seat to open up at the table or a chance to be awarded territory by the Prince. Sticking around is pass, I guess. You know, to be fair, the thing with the explorers was true back then, too. On the one hand, were trying to capture some of the glory and excitement and, yeah, the prestige of Aeneas and Brutus and the great conquerors among the kine. We sent our childer, our colonials, off to the New World because we wanted some Ventrue to be conquistadores, even though our sires and Ephors werent willing to risk their Requiems or their lordship for the chance. But theyd share a family name with grand explorers, so thats something.

I got this short meditation on the nature (and purpose) of Ventrue colonialism by interviewing a Lord in my own city though if you ask him, he will not remember it. What I find interesting here (aside from his candor) is his sense of the danger lurking within every ally, contact and cohort we keep.

The Cartier brood, colonials of the New World donated by Marienne Cartier

The point, though, was to expand existing control and influence beyond whatever limited territory was available in the local fiefs, not sow new power, like modern Kindred seem to think. Look, when I left Holland, I was being petulant. I wanted to be lord over some small fief, and I wasnt willing to wait. But after I got to Aberdeen and set up shop there, I found that I was able to carve out a mighty three streets of turf because I didnt care what kind of enemies I made. I discovered that coming into town without a reputation, without any implied juice behind me, is nothing but hurt. Lots of Kindred tried to take me out in that first year because, you know what, why shouldnt they? Nobody knew me and they had no reason to think anyone was going to avenge my Final Death. Whats the consequence for chopping up a vampire with no allies and no connections? Nothing. So, like a whelp, I tried to go mumming back to my sire in Amsterdam. I sent letters, but I heard nothing back. I sent a courier, but I still heard nothing back. Were the letters getting there? Was anyone who would be able to read through the Masquerade in my letters even still in residence at the old address? How the fuck did I know? I had to go by what the courier told me when he came back with my letter in hand: Nobody was there. The place was abandoned. It was humiliating, but I didnt have much left to do to defend myself but ingratiate myself with the local Lords in Aberdeen. I swore oaths. I became another Lords vassal. I spent something like thirteen years getting myself established again. I took on a new family, drank new Blood and changed my name. When my Priscus decided we should be getting rich off the New World, he picked three of us to brave the voyage by sea. (One of us was Embraced just for this purpose, in fact.) We went to Wales, we boarded three different ships with us locked up in chests inside, and we sailed for the Province of Carolina. Of the three of us, Im the only one who made it, near as we can tell. This was 1662. The first thing I did when I got off the boat was hand the letter Id written back in Wales to the first sailors heading back. A year later, the Lord Priscus of Aberdeen wrote back. So you see whats happened now, right? And this was especially amazing back then. I was halfway around the globe, in this bizarre new territory, but I still had connections back in the old country. I had information about what was happening in England information known only to important mortals and the Lords who made them kings and others here in the Colonies didnt have that. So I became valuable in the new colonial settlements because I could predict hostilities and travels and visitors from overseas. I was protected, at least a little bit, because some important Lord with a city full of minions could dispatch Ventrue blades, or activate some colonial Crypteia, to avenge my destruction.

Was this likely? Not as likely as we made it seem. But it was a degree of protection, at least. Tonight, the colonialism isnt much different. I sent my childe out west with the number to a cell phone I keep just for him. So he can call me and have me send money or weapons or information I can coax out of other Lords with colonials in his city. He has an edge over the local Kindred who dont have these connections. But the night he arrived in that new city wasnt much easier. Strangers with protective, territorial Beasts smelled the stink of a foreign vampire, and what could he do about it? Wherever he goes, he runs the risk of trespassing without even knowing which landlord hes offending. He doesnt know where this fief ends and that one begins. (Though, actually, I hear you can do that in St. Louis, where the Invictus have some front company in the phone book, like First Estate Movers or some shit. Because a few of the Society Kindred out there are in the business of shipping Kindred in and out of the city. But youd still have to know to call that number and say the right shit to get yourself in touch with actual Society vampires.) The trouble with all this colonialism, though, is that every connection is like a cord, linking one Lord to another. Pull on that cord, and the Kindred on the other end of the connection gets pulled into view. Its dangerous. It can be abused. What if my childe changes his loyalties? After a few years in the dominion of other Lords and other covenants, its probably more than likely. He could give my cell number to some evil nomads or some tech-savvy Shadows and have me tracked, destroyed and robbed to pay off his debts or make his Prince richer or something. Anyone who wants to get at me could go through him. Every gate in the city wall is a spot where thieves and spies and assassins can infiltrate. This is why colonial Kindred are still so rare. This is why even the few that do go out to try and expand control or money are kept secret. Its in our best interest to keep our cities locked down and in our hands so that it is scary for other vampires to come here. So that, when they do, they have to genuflect and pay homage if they dont want to be just another neonate that just suddenly disappears. The scarier it is for others to come here or go there, the more valuable the individual players and kings are in each city, and the greater the return we get on our individual investments. The mayor I control is worth a lot more if no mega-Prince with a bunch of mayors in his control can come and tell me Im doing it wrong. And, on top of that, the scarier it is for others to brave new cities, the more valuable our network is. Its not an edge if everyone has it. We want to keep our connections as our edge, so we have to protect their rarity to keep them valuable.

WH Throughout the States we heard those same rumors of bizarre, ritualized Ventrue gatherings in European domains. The details were much as you said: masked observers, nude supplicants, virginal vessels on hand for the fledglings first feeding, baths of blood. Our first thought was that, if true, the ritual was some amalgam of ceremonies between the Succubi and our kin. Our investigations overseas have turned up nothing more than similar rumors being spread from one European city to the next. Our man in Paris heard this was happening in Venice. The ghoul we sent to Venice heard this was something they did at the court of Budapest. And so on. My favorite response to our questioning, though, came from an ancilla in Vienna. When asked if neonate Lords were Embraced before an audience of clanmates and courtly powers, he said, That would be like having sex in front of the Prince! Not just the prudish American response, then. Even in Europe, the Embrace continues to be a private affair for Lords and their childer. The stretch of time between the Embrace and a childers Debut before the clan (or the whole of the domain, depending) seems to be considerably shorter in the States than in Europe. Several Lords told us they were regarded as fledglings under their sires care for two years or more. By the time of their Debut, it was a pleasantry they already knew most of the Kindred who would attend such a thing. In the Americas, one year was thought of as a long time for a sire to be responsible for his childe (according to most of the Lords we could ask). But throughout the Americas, the Debut was also regarded as a more literal ceremony wherein the childe was revealed to clan and court (or, in practice, whoever truly attended). Prior to the Debut, childer were kept out of formal events outside the clan. In Mexico City, we were even told that it was bad luck for a new childe to be spoken to before his or her Debut. For whatever reason, this seems to be a more mutable custom from domain to domain. More than any other, we found the Debut was regarded as an unusual tradition in the clan, particular to the local domains, though really it seems to be happening from Bogota to Moscow. I keep wondering, though: How is it that the rumors of the bloody, cultish spectacle of the ceremonial Embrace have spread so far with such similarity from domain to domain? VT