Clanbook Baali (Dark Ages - Text)
Clanbook Baali (Dark Ages - Text)
Clanbook Baali (Dark Ages - Text)
NOTE
Clanbook Baali is intend for individuals over 18 only, and even then we want you
to think twice about playing one. WhiteWolf in no way condones any of the
practices ascribed to the Baali herein, and wishes to make it perfectly clear
that we don't encourage anyone to emulate anything that these guys do. The Baali
are evil, vicious, sadistic, demented, twisted, hateful - and completely
fictional. If you want to add a Baali to you Chronicle, here's everything you
need to do so. If you want to play a Baali, be very, very careful that you
separate in-game and out-of-game attitudes, and that the other players in your
game are OK with that you're doing.
There is undoubtedly content in this book that many people will find offensive.
Remember, it is the in-character narrator espousing those views, not WhiteWolf
or anyone else associated with project. Relax, enjoy, and if you find the book
problematic, PUT IT DOWN. No one's forcing you to read it.
Clanbook Baali
Table of Contents
Not because he and I are one, but because we are opposites, I take to me the
services which thou has done to him, for I and he are of such different kinds
that no service which is vile can be done to him.
- C.S Lewis, The Chronicles of Narmia
Like others of their kind, they have forever said their farewells to the
light.
As do their European counterparts, they hunt the night, living on the
spill remnants of others lives.
But what do the other Childer of Caine truly know of darkness?
Chapter one: The Opening
Jonathan , half-lost in the bliss of inter course smiled stupidly at the
naked youth straddling his man hood. He did not know the boy's name; they had
exchanged no words. The boy was half the age of abbot's eldest daughter, but
that meant little to the older man. Redemption, after all, was but a breath
away, waiting in the confines of his confessor's cubicle. From the moment
Jonathan had first laid eyes upon the boy - smooth, moon-pale skin, soft, supple
curves, long, flaxen hair spilling down past unblemished shoulders - he had
wanted him. The wherefore of whatever spell had so suddenly enraptured him were
lost in the throes of his passion. Jonathan wanted boy, and thus had taken him.
It was that simple.
Jonathan continued thrusting, lost in the vision of his comely companion
writhing in silence. Passers-by could hear as he took in urgent breath as boy
paused, shifting ever so slightly while still keeping his lover deep inside. The
child rose up once, working his hips and driving th abbot into new throes of
ecstasy. Again the pair moved together, features contorted in paroxysms of
perverse delight. The jonathan thrust forward a third time, and the boy came
down hard, face twisted into an unrecognizable feral mask as the monk screamed
in agony.
Something moved toward Jonathan, surging from deep within the boy's
bowels. It skittered through the fey child and into Jonathan, crawling inside
his sex and distending the sides. Each continued thrust - for he would not,
could not stop - was accompanied by a searing sensation, intensely painful, yet
strangely pleasurable. The moving thing was a swarm, Jonathan realized in a
moment of horrific lucidity between thrusts; he could feel the chittering things
forcing their way into him. He screamed and pitched, but could not throw off the
boy; the child-monster's thighs held him a sensual death-grip.
The torment and pleasure in tandem became unspeakble. At length, Jonathan
could hear the wet snap of his hip cracking, yielding to stresses a mortal frame
was never meant to bear. He fell, sprawling, into the merciful gulf of
unconsciousness.
************************************
The abbot spent the next fortnight in a fitful state of half-wakefulness.
Vaguely he wondered why none of the monks came to see him; vaguely he wondered
about his duties and masses. His nights were filled with visions of his
torturer's leering face. Then there were the nightmares, surreal table aux in
which Jonathan's captor capered about his prostate from, pushing, prodding,
cutting. There were scenes which played dangerously close to the edge of sanity,
in which the monster squatted over Jonathan's face, forcing blood - salty mag
gots and formless writhing masses into his mouth, then holding his jaws shut and
forcing him to swallow.
The days, if night could be separated from day in the perpetual darkness
enshrouding him, were worse. On those occasions when sleep deserted him,
Jonathan, raw, rent and broken, was exquisitely aware of every sensation his
tortured nerves brought him. His tongue, cracked, parched and swollen from
countless stings, was about the only thing he could move. Flies landed on his
eyes and he could not so much as blink to dislodge them. They were a constant
companion in his torment, their buzz an excited drone against the slow beat of
his heart. Misshapen creatures and vermin crawled and slithered over his bloated
body, and a unseen thing - things - moved within his abdomen with chilling
deliberation.
Then, one night, he awakened to find his captor waiting for him. The child
was seated upon his chest, stealing his breath and staring him full in the face
with black, bottomless eyes. The boy's body was cold, Jonathan noted, as cold as
the corpses he had laid out for burial. More of the insects scampered across
Jonathan to scuttle onto the boy-thing's naked from, welcoming his presence.
Countless black forms darted in and out of the boy's nose, his smiling mouth,
his groin.
"You have cow's eyes," the youth hissed as he idly caressed Jonathan's
face. The boy spoke in a voice that too old, too evil to come from a child.
Whatever spoke in that voice had known degradation beyond imagining. Jonathan
moaned, terrified his tormentor would scoop out his eyes with small, cold
fingers.
"Cow's eyes," the creature mused, retrieving a threaded needle attached to
a skein of silk from beside Jonathan's prostate form. "The same wide-eyed gaze
as a beast of the field. It marks you as unaware, unsuspecting, not yet opened
with understanding. It betrays you as prey."
The creature pushed the needle into his own palm, passing it through his
hand and out the other side. Without pausing, he then pinched the fat of the
abbot's gut into a small fold and slid the needle through, eliciting whimpers of
pain and fear.
"I can see your thoughts through those eyes, Jonathan," the best
continued, eyes wide as he held his victim down. Slowly he continued to sew into
abbot's flesh, embroidering it with ancient patterns. "I can your fears. Oh,
don't worry, I won't take your eyes from you now. They'll be needed later."
Each wound closed scant seconds after the needle's passage, made whole by
the potent vitae that soaked the thread, but Jonathan kept trying to scream
until no more sounds escaped his mouth. Silently, his body was wracked with
shudders.
"Here," the abbot's grinning assailant finally said, pausing to place
Jonathan's had over his own swollen groin. "Squeeze that, if you will, and think
about what you want. It will help to pass the time while I tell you should know
before apotheosis."
The voice you hear is one and all Baali; it is third person and first,
neutral and personal. Why? Because no one voice speaks the entire truth.
------- The Voice of Truth
First, o my best beloved, is the number of the ancestor, whose name is not
known.
It is our origin - the Circle of Unending Truth, the elemental singularity
of being.
It is the unseeing eye of our dread lord, and the passage into world
through which he peers.
It is our conclusion - the return of our masters, the time when all will
again be one.
Second are the razored blades of the beast, the blood-drenched shores on
which man and bull dance. Ariadne's shining thread winds its way between worlds
there, leading the seeker into the maze.
It is our inexorable might - the fist that lashes forth to breach the
barriers between profane and celestial, and rises again and again to smite all
unbelievers.
It is our enemy - the battle host of the brutish fools whose armies unmade
our unity in crete.
Tripartite is the infantile heresy of those who make kings of children,
kneel before false gods, and waste the lives of thousands in an incomplete
understanding of the mysteries of life and death.
It is the Folly of Egypt - a place where our brethren walk among serpents
and serpent-lovers, and great monuments are erected to the paltry lives of
insignificant men.
It is our dominion - a bridge between earth and sky, and all that lies
within the world and beyond it.
Four is the number of the crossed timbers of the carpenter, he who wears a
hundred names and is to be our greatest adversary. Four are the fables formed
from his death, and four the winds an which his blasphemous drivel shall be
spread.
It is a testament to their conviction - the suffering, sacrifice, and
strength born of belief that can thwart our smaller designs.
It is our warning - a constant reminder that, for good or ill, ours are
not the only masters.
Six are the intersecting corners of heaven and earth, the indistinct
boundaries between this world and beyond; twice six are the tribes ruled over by
a ragged shepherd-king, he whose brothel's bounty of blood is paid unto his
people again and again across six land and six oceans.
It is a carefully crafted prison - fetters of hidebound tradition and laws
to which we are no subject.
Seventh is the number of the new comer, mohammed, the one who submits,
camel-driver who moves the black stones and forces his flock westward to mecca,
merchant who teaches the trade of tolerance and, in the same breath, trains
pupilis to extract their pilgrim's price in pounds of infidel flesh.
It is the spiked helm and curved blade of blind hostility, and fear of the
unknown, the unknowable.
It is our covenant: pinpricks of our masters' blinding light shining forth
from the night skies.
Eighth is the number of the ancient, he whom the wardens of wisdom name
Zarathustra. Eight, too, are his revelations, eight points ensconcing the
circles of the oldest mystery, sought by the servants of the two true masters,
once halves of the same whole.
It is a great gulf, a whirling vortex of empty platitudes calling itself
the bridge of the separator.
It is fortunes's wheel, a war lord's wheel which will reverse course to
crush a people it once favored.
And here, o my children, heirs to the power and promise that is your
birthright, unwavering notes one and many in the unheard, unconquerable symphony
that is our father's song, you have seen the inconsistency.
There was a time before it all, when heaven's hosts were still one and
humanity was but a lump of unformed clay. It was then the Lord - or Allah, or
El, or Yahweh, or whatever else you wish to call "It" - proclaimed "Let there be
light," and there was. The darkness had spawned its on children, however, and
they suffered terribly beneath the brand of the inquisitor God. In those ancient
days, the sky was ablaze with his wrath. His luminance scoured the world like
Greek fire and struck the foundations of existence like a battering ram. The
children, the offspring of Night, fell from their heavenly moorings and
plummeted to the ground like falling stars wreathed in flame. Most of the
Children were blackened husks by the time they struck the earth, but some few
survived long enough to seek refuge. As the Children's fall had split the earth,
great chasms opened into the lightless depths. The survivors of the Fall crawled
into the fractured ground. There slumber overtook them, and they allowed time to
seal them in their dirt wombs. Humanity, formed to satisfy the narcissist God,
never knew of the hallowed ground they trod upon. Ignorantly, they built cities
over the graves of the Children, all unknowing of the power that attracted them
to these places. Like flies drawn to the sweet aroma of decay, they raised their
temples and altars to the heavens, even as they were moved by the dark dreams of
what lay buried beneath their monuments.
A band of mortals we call the first tribe were the first living creatures
to come across one of night's offspring. While digging a well just outside the
fledgling city of Ashur, the first tribe uncovered one of the Children. It
writhed and screamed beneath God's eye, the sun, and cursed his name. Each of
the beast's word carried power and the ground shook when the dying sleeper
called out its true name. The beast could not save itself with words, however.
Its flesh bubbled like wax and melted away, revealing bone, muscle and burning
flesh. It called out to its brethren, crying for rescue and for succor, but its
cries went unattended. The Child perished within a few minutes, its flesh
climbing to the skies as poisoned smoke. This brief revelation, however, was
enough to change the first tribe forever. The Child's words carried with them
seeds of darkness that infected those responsible for uncovering the dread
beast.
The first tribe had heard the names of other Children when the first one
had cried out, and touched by the power in those names, could now hear their
murmurs through the wind. The dark sleepers whispered to them through the moans
of the dying as the first tribe learned to muder, and sang of untold power in
the screams of those they raped and killed. In turn, the first tribe saw the
power that the dead Children possessed and coveted these gifts for themselves.
They sought out the chathonic sleepers, whispered to them while they slumbered
and prostituted their souls to them.
In exchange for sponsorship from the Children, the first tribe became
their acolytes. The mortals accepted the burden of remembering their master's
existence when. They vanquished then from mortal memory. The first tribe
accepted the bargain in bad faith, however, believing that by knowing the true
names of these malignant creatures they would have true power over them. Such is
the ignorance of primitive people. Knowing something's true name gives it sway
over you as well. Power is never free for the taking, or for the giving.
You may have noticed that I am vague with the terms I use, that I neither
name the first tribe nor its patrons. Such omission is deliberate. Certain names
have the power to echo across the worlds when intoned, and there are always
things listening for those names to be spoken. Even knowing these names is akin
to catching a disease, a kind of leprous affliction that atrophies the soul.
Speaking those names spreads the contagion.
The first tribe grew strong in the flesh, but withered in spirit as they
passed this aliment on to their children and grandchildren. Worse yet, by
playing with these cursed names, the first tribe made the Children more aware of
the world outside of their dreams. The only thing that tethered the Children to
reality was their names, and each time a name was called, that tether pulled a
Child closer to wakefulness.
Eventually, the first tribe realized that their servitude was worthless.
Because of their actions, soon the ancient masters would awaken and stride the
world like colossi. Plagues would spread in the wake of each titan step, and the
tribe's service would not protect them from death and darkness. Belatedly, the
acolytes of the Children did the only thing they could: They hid the accursed
names within their thoughts, never daring to speak them, to breathe power into
them, to tempt the Children closer to consciousness. This act served its
purpose, barely; deprived of a steady stream of sustenance, the Children
remained teetering on the border between dream and waking. Fortunately, the
sleepers did not know they still slept; they lived in their dreams, rulling a
shadow world that existed only in their fevered imaginations. But to keep the
Children trapped in these fever dreams took power, as much power as had been
wasted over the centuries in calling the Children closer to wakefulness. To keep
the Children asleep, the first tribe tortured their brethren, raped their own
children, mutilated themselves, devoured the weak in cannibalistic orgies and
wallowed in filth and degradation. Sacrificing waht shreds of morality remained
to then, they filled the dreams of these monsters with the sounds of anguish and
misery, keeping them asleep with a murderer's lullaby. As long as there was
sufficient rapine in the monster's dream-worlds, they would not stir to seek it
elsewhere.
The true names od these creatures still carried power, however, and the
first tribe was not stupid enough to turn their backs on this magic completely.
Human acolytes formed cults around the various entities and learned to dilute
the names of the Children. Taking the Root of s name and changing it, or masking
it behind foreign mortal languages enabled a sufficiently cunning priest to draw
upon a fraction of a sleeping entity's might have been, but the risk was also
proportionally lessened, and for these priests that was good enough.
It is ironic that the creatures you know now as demons were once revered
as Mesopotamian deities - who were in demoniac Children. You may sleep well
knowing that the names assigned to the Children these days hold little power -
centuries and generations of conquering languages have diluted their strength to
almost nothing. Occadionally, however, some fool stumbles across a correct
string of letters and intones it well enough to capture... unwanted attention.
The Children slumber fitfully yet, and their dreams are less pleasing to them
than once they were.
Wells of Sacrifice
The first tribe, under the guise of various mystery cults, served the
faceless entities for many generations. They played a careful game of taking
power without compromising their survival. As other tribes waxed powerful,
members of the first tribe came to them as priests and holy women, bringing them
learning, rites and rituals. They also brought with them the worship and abuse
of the power of the Children, but masked it well, so that entire cities turned
their strength to serving the Children without knowing that they were doing so.
The strongest cult dwelt in the city of Ashur, tending to a now-hidden
well and protecting the remains of the first Child uncovered generations
earlier. The well was a marvel and a terror to the people ofAshur, but they
never wavered in their reverence. Over the centuries, the cult of Ashur made
constant sacrifice into the great well. When Ashur made war on other cities,
they sacrificed prisoners and slaves; when Ashur was at peace, they stole
livestock and children with which to make offering. Victims were eviscerated and
their blood collected in stone jars; organs were carefully removed, read for
augury and tossed in the well to rest on top of previous victims' corpses. When
no augury was needed, cultists tore sacrifices limb from limb with their hands
and teeth, then threw the broken bodies into the well. Come nightfall, the
collected blood would be poured over the still-warm corpses, brewing a draught
of corruption and rotting flesh in which great swarms of flies buzzed and bred.
This ritual of murder and dismemberment, however, could not go unnoticed
forever. Other powers of death walked the world even in those days, and knew
when reverence was done unto them.
Is it any surprise, then, that a Cainite of great power and majesty found
the well one night! The priests of the first tribe raised their voices against
him, using even the forbidden incantations, but they were as wheat before the
storm. The power of his voice struck the priests dumb and silenced their cries;
his gaze struck down the weak-minded and feeble. Those who were strong in body
but not in mind he ripped limb from limb, then tossed aside as long shreds
offlesh. Those who were strong of mind but not of body, he commanded to rend
their own bodies with long knives, and they did so. Those who were comely he
forced to couple, then he melted the flesh of their bodies and their bones
together. He drew forth their ribs from their bodies so that each thrust was an
impalement, and watched as they died. For the Cainite had witnessed their rites,
and found them wanting. He had seen their rituals, and wished to show them that
their depravities and atrocities were as nothing, that they were children
playing at evil. And lest none remain to learn his lesson, he tossed the bodies
of his playthings into their own pit, and let flow his own vitae into the well.
Three mortals survived to lap up the blood that he gave unto them; only three,
from the hundreds who had worshipped at the well.
The following evening, these three victims clawed their way out of the
organ pit. They were filthy with gore, caked in blood and howling with
unquenched fury and madness. Their creator had abandoned them; their patrons had
deserted them. They were mad and hateful and thirsty for death. The Baali had
been born.
The Three
Three Baali arose from the well of carrion, each equal to the others in
power. Three Cainites howled madness at the uncaring stars, each thrice removed
from Caine in blood. The three Baali did not know the name of their sire, but as
they learnt more about their existence, each came to ascribe his existence to a
different progenitor, and to hate his fellows for hewing to different beliefs.
The first of the three was Nergal, the terror behind the legend of the
Babylonian deity. He remained within the cradling arms of the Tigris and
Euphrates, eventually establishing the city of his cult, Mashkan-shapir. Of the
three, he was the most adept in dealing with other Cainites. He believed his
sire to be none other than Ashur, who bore the name of the city where the Baali
were born. He chose to Embrace those outside the first tribe.
The second of the three was Moloch, who went by the names Andramelech and
Ba'al Hammon. He was the progenitor of several orders, including the Avatars of
the Swarm. Like the proverbial plague of locusts, he spread the Baali across the
Phoenician Empire. He mostly Embraced those descended from the first tribe.
==========================================
ASHUR THE UNNAMED
Few mysteries of any sort have plagued Cainite scholars with such
persistence and urgency as the details of the origins of the Baali, not to
mention the identity of their mysterious progenitor. There are many, many tales;
mutually contradictory accounts that blame everyone from Caine to Saulot to
demon-kings of the mysterious East for the plague that is the Baali.
The libraries of European ancients are rife with accounts of a
Mesopotamian slave-boy, sole survivor of a long-dead empire, who was supposedly
"brought into darkness" by an ageless wanderer.
Arabic legends instead point to the ruins of a forgotten city, erected in
the crater of chorazin, where "a ball of blinding flame, shining as even the
Eye of Allah, fell from the heavens." In this city, these legends maintain, a
lost nomadic tribe was unwittingly snared into the service of " the fly-king
whose minions ride the bodies of men."
Still older, Eastern apocrypha tell of a warrior-philosopher-Ashur, god-
king of an unconquered empire, "great king, legitimate king, king of the world,
king of Assyria, king of all the four rims of the earth, who rules from the
Upper Sea to the Lower Sear." This semi-mythical ruler's continued efforts to
push boundaries of his realm eastward, past Thebes and the cruel peaks of the
Zagros, ended in failure...
...And enigma.
Chaldean lore traces the Baali progenitor to the northlands of Cappadocia.
Other sources insist his concealment and desire for seclusion, Assyrian or
otherwise, stemmed from a hideous deformity he carried back with him from the
Far East: a third, unsleeping eye, which, legend has it, could see into the
fear, secrets, and dark desires of man.
Which tales contain the truth? Were the Baali born of Ashur-Called-
Cappadocious? An unmade ancient From the East? Gentle Salute himself? Or another
wellspring entirely?
The secret may lie hidden forever. In the meantime, there is no shortage
of speculation, though scholars who draw too close to the truth find themselves
studied in turn...
==========================================
==========================================
The Lords
Vampires have always assumed that the name "Baali" referred
to Baal, the Canaanite deity of fertility. It does not. The name instead serves
a dual significance, born from the cultures of ancient Mesopotamia.
The name of the Baali stems from the word Ba´al, meaning "Lord."
Throughout Phoenicia, for example, every town had a Ba´al - Lord - or Ba´alat -
Lady - who was undisputed master of city. Ba´alat of Berytus was a nymph whom
Adonis loved, Heracles had the title of Ba´al of Tyre, and Chartage worshipped
Moloch as Ba´al Hammon. The Bloodline´s name is thus an indication of the Baali
´s self-assigned importance, but it is also a means of hiding one´s real name. A
person who identifies himself as Baali and by no other title protects his true
name, and forces others to call him by a name of power.
The Mesopotamian empires used the appellation Ba´al to hide the names of
their gods, thus preventing other cultures from "wooing" their deities away. The
Baali adopted this practice to hide the identities of secret lords, and ascribed
the name Ba´al to the sleeping Children. Cainites stumbling across Baali
scriptures mistakenly drew a connection between the beings the Baali called Ba
´al, and the entity by name whom mortals worshipped. This served the Baali well
enough, as it obscured the names of Children even further even as it degraded
the bloodline´s perceived origins.
Meanwhile, Ba´al, through legend alone, turned into Baal-zebu or Beelzebub
the demon. He became the "Lord of the Flies" when the israelites worshipping
Jehovah told the Philistines that Beelzebub was a god of "Litle things," such as
flies and bugs. During the first Crusades, Ventrue-backed Knights Templar
uncovered a sect of Avatars of the Swarm - an ancient Baali sect worshipping
plagues of insects - in Tyre. Unsurprisingly, the Crusaders drew an erroneus
connection between these Baali and Beelzebub, "Lord of Flies," further cementing
the mistaken perception.
Unfortunately, the Baali of the last millennium have fallen prey to their
own propaganda. Younger Baali mistakenly believe in the mortal version of Baal
as their patron demon, rather than seeing "Ba´al" as a title ascribed to the
true powers the bloodline venerates. This misconception aggravates the rift
between the various orders and generations of Baali.
==========================================
The name of the third of the three, and even its gender, remain a mystery.
Nergal and Moloch rarely spoke of their sibling, but each would grow wroth at
the mention of the third. Some claim the third Baali was the lover of one or the
other, or both; others claim that it was in fact a pair of lovers merged at the
organ pit. The presence of hermaphroditic deities in various ancient pantheons
is evidence of such, supporters of the latter notion claim.
The most popular explanation is that the third Baali is female, but even
those who accept this idea argue vehemently as to her name. Some support the
notion that the third is Zillah; others claim Lilith herself. Still others say
she has no name and is simply called the Crone.
Throughout the ages, dozens of usurpers claiming to be the third one have
come forward under a host of names: Pazuzu, Ahriman and even Ba'al himself. All
were charlatans, ofcourse, and each was revealed and destroyed in rum. Despite
the many suppositions surrounding this apocryphal third Baali, there are some
historical questions best not probed too closely. Loose tongues have a way of
being cut out, especially when they wag with tales that the third was none other
than the revered Saulot himself.
NERGAL'S LEGACY
In Moloch's words, Nergal was the whore of the Baali. He was powerful, but
self-centered to a dangerous fault, and fully convinced of his own dark
divinity. He consorted with other childer of Caine before they knew any better,
and wormed their secrets out of them through pretty words and seductive
whispers. Nergal served as Arikel's wench, traded secret vices with the
Antediluvian Tzimisce and debated philosophy with Troile. How he must have
laughed at their stupidity.
Nergal's center of power was Mashkan-shapir, a city on the banks of the
Tigris. It was a place of wondrous advancements for its time -- it boasted two
harbors within its battlements, river streets for ships and a temple to Nergal
over a quarter of the city in size. Mashkan-shapir served as the center for
Mesopotamian Baali for centuries, sheltering the malignant darkness beneath the
skirt of its walls. In his vast temple, Nergal conducted corrupt rites,
afflicting his mortal followers with plagues and sloughing the flesh off their
bones with which to decorate his temple interior.
Within Mashkan-shapir, Nergal was god. According to myth, he was the Lord
of the Underworld and consort to Ereshkigal, the princess of the Kingdom of
Shadows. The D'habi, a line of ghoul priests well trained by Nergal, managed his
temple. They served their master loyally and without any hint of mortal or moral
compunction.
Nergal's knowledge of the Children's true names was by far the most
complete of all the Baali. Fortunately, through the efforts of the first tribe,
the original names of the Children had long since been lost. Nergal was forced
to rely on secondary names and false titles with which to elicit help, and as
such he was far weaker than he might have been. This knowledge of his inadequacy
gnawed at Nergal, who plotted ceaselessly to add to his power.
Nergal's dark hungers drove him to commit abomination upon abomination,
and when prophecy told him how it might be accomplished, he grew willing to
sacrifice his own city in return for power. Demons and lesser creatures had
whispered to Nergal that a Child slept beneath Mashkan-shapir; the mortals had
supposedly sensed his presence and named him Namtaru, Spreader of Plagues.
Nergal knew how to contact this sleeper through rituals of summoning, but did
not know the sleeper's true name. Nor could he locate Namtaru's body despite
massive excavations beneath the city, though he drove his subjects to tear up
all that they had built in the search. At length Nergal decided that the only
way to awaken Namtaru was to offer him a suitable sacrifice. The form that
sacrifice would take was to be the mortals of Mashkan-shapir.
To feed the sleeping Namtaru, Nergal planned to release virulent and
deadly plagues upon his own populace, but his own priests betrayed him. In fear
for their lives, D'habi ghouls sought out Moloch and told him of Nergal's
machinations. They understood the danger of awakening N amtaru and knew that
their master would sacrifice all to the delusion of his own godhead. Moloch,
wishing to prevent a Baali "civil war" with Nergal's children, in tum betrayed
his brother to the clans. The move cost the bloodline dearly, but there was no
other way. Other Cainites were already suspicious of the Baali, and Moloch's
revelations strengthened their fears, but the altemative was too terrible to
contemplate. The hatred of the clans would be as nothing to the appetites of an
awakened Child.
The clans played the part Moloch expected of them. They assaulted Mashkan-
shapir -- albeit in highly disorganized fashion -- and slaughtered the already
disease-infected populace. The corpses were heaped on pyres and reduced to ash
in order to end their contagion forever, and then the city itself bore the
Cainites' wrath. They razed each building to the ground, but Nergal's power
shielded his temple against intruders. Against the barriers Nergal had erected,
even the mightiest Cainites hurled themselves in vain.
Finally, Lasombra priests to the goddess Ereshkigal, using powers now lost
to the dan, penetrated the temple through the shadows that hovered within and
flooded Nergal's haven with liquid darkness. Nergal and his remaining loyal
followers were washed away by the black tide and vanished into whatever domain
from which the Lasombra summon their servants.
Mashkan-shapir died on that day. The Baali charade with the clans was
over, however, and many from the bloodline had already been destroyed as a
result. Others, more wary, slipped away into the wide world to work their
rituals in seclusion.
SHAITAN,
THE GREAT DECEIVER
Two millennia before the birth of Christ, Shaitan made his presence known
in Ashur. He appeared out of nowhere powerful, ancient and devious beyond any
the Baali had ever seen. He claimed to be the bloodline's progenitor, father to
the first three, and grandsire to all the rest. The Orphaned flocked to
Shaitan's banner, but Moloch remained quiet on the matter. He forbade those
beneath him from fraternizing with Shaitan, but took no other action. The Baali
later learned Moloch had been granted visions of the destruction to come, and he
sought a means of weathering the coming storm rather than rushing into senseless
conflict. Other Baali were not privy to this knowledge, though, and thought his
inaction was cowardice.
The Orphaned quickly rallied beneath Shaitan's flag; those who refuted his
claims of lineage died of a virulent plague that turned Cainite vitae into dust.
In response, Moloch gathered the strongest Baali who were still loyal to him and
took refuge within the cities of the Phoenicians along the Mediterranean coast.
Only a few trusted disciples remained with Moloch in hiding.
As the older Baali suspected, this Shaitan was a charlatan. Unfortunately,
he was a potent charlatan with many secrets, the first of which was his
identity. Shaitan was Nergal. His previous attempt to summon Namtaru, the
D'habi's betrayal of him and his supposed destruction at Mashkan-shapir had all
been an elaborate ruse. There was only one kernel truth to the entire matter:
Nergal did indeed intend to awaken Namtaru, but quickly realized he had neither
the support nor the time to complete his plans. So Nergal did the only thing he
could, and acted exactly as they all expected -- to a point.
Nergal told the D'habi to betray him, and conditioned them to forget they
were following his orders. He infected the populace of his own city to lend
weight to his threat and then waited for the repercussions. When Mashkan-shapir
fell, it was one of Nergal's childer, disguised as the Methuselah, who vanished
in the flood of darkness. The real Nergal had long since traveled to Ashur.
Over the centuries, Nergal sent a small supply of blood to the D'habi so
that they could bind their children to him with the Blood-Oath. This kept the
family blood-loyal to the Baali Methuselah. With the D'habi as his eyes, ears
and hands, Nergal infiltrated the Baali orders and learned their secrets. When
the time came for his return, Nergal knew his enemies and their weaknesses
intimately. He then infected enemies with the blood-dust plague by poisoning the
vitae of his ghouls, or assassinated Baali opponents using a corrupt sect of
Assamites -- who will be discussed later. The D'habi, however, remained his
perfect assassins and spies.
When Nergal chose to appear again, he did so under the guise of Shaitan.
His centuries of isolation served him well, for he knew that Namtaru's resting
place was in fact north of Galilee. He seemed to regard Moloch as beneath his
contempt. Shaitan ignored his brother for centuries and spun a web of lies to
enthrall the more gullible Baali. He promised them a kingdom of darkness and
built Chorazin, a palace of shadows, over Namtaru's tomb. What Shaitan really
needed followers for, though was as foot soldiers to delay his enemies while he
reawakened his lord.
Shaitan eventually uncovered Namtaru's desiccated but dormant form, and
brought the giant sleeper to Crete, which had been a stronghold of the Orphaned
before Shaitan's arrival. The bloodline then constructed a great maze below
Knossos, around the body of Namtaru, to focus the ritual of awakening. It is
said Shaitan peeled open the skulls of 700 mortals, studying the surface canals
and chasms of the brain as inspiration for his labyrinth. Baali who were not
privy to the Methuselah's methods believed the maze spelt out the true names of
dark entities Shaitan was trying to awaken, and wandered its corridors tracing
sigils of power with their footsteps. Fed by sacrifice and song, Namtaru grew
stronger. The waters around Crete turned blood-red, quenching the thirst of any
Baali who waded in it, and the sun refused to shine on her shores. Namtaru
himself stirred, exercising its will to shield the island from the accursed
light that vanquished it eons ago. The Child's very presence caused nature
itself to recoil from his touch, turning water to vitae and air to smoke. From
far and wide the scattered Baali came to Crete, drawn by whispers in their
dreams. Shaitan was ready to unmake the world as soon as his lord awakened, and
wished as many of his brethren as possible to bear witness.
In an unusual show of solidarity, the clans united to stop Shaitan. They
could not breach the island's defenses, and so were forced to drastic measures.
Calling upon ancient powers, they commanded the island of Thera to belch forth a
cataclysm. Earthquakes, titanic waves, a storm of ash and a torrent of liquid
fire claimed Knossos; Shaitan reputedly died when the labyrinth partially
collapsed and the ritual of summoning was interrupted. Namtaru, buried again,
fell back into fitful slumber. It was too weak to awaken completely, but grew
more aware of the world around it. It was no longer trapped in dreams.
============================================
Desperately Seeking Satan
A sect of Christian-born Baali believe Satan is already waqlking among
society. Following Chirst´s crucifixion, according to Christian theologians, the
Son of God journeyed to Hell before ascending to Heaven. During His sojourn into
Hell, Christ reputedly defeated Satan and rescued Adam from the torments of the
afterlife. He then sealed Hell for one millennium, at the end of which time
Satan would supposedly return with his son, the Antichrist.
After announcing this revelation, the Church belatedly realized that
without Hell to serve as athreat for the wicked, even the devout cold act
without fear of retribution in the afterlife. To staunch the spiritual bleeding,
Christianity borrowed Limbo from the Greeks and Romans as the temporary opposite
to Heaven. The prescribed millennium passed, however, and still there was no
evidence of Satan anywhere on the horizon. Church theologians then theorized
that Satan was already on the Earth, wreaking havoc and mischief in subtle ways
while preparing for his attempt to storm Heaven.
Many Christian-born Baali believe this theory, and commit flagrant acts of
depravity in hopes that Satan will acknowledge them. While the terrible
reputation consigned to the Baali is well-earned, this segment of the bloodline
is by far the most violent and blatant in its activities. Indeed, these would-be
Satanists are the reason most believe the Baali to worship Christian devils -
they certainly proclaim that they do so loudly and often.
============================================
WINGS OF PLAGUE
In the 6th century, the Baali discovered just how dangerous Shaitan's
legacy still was. Although the Setites thoroughly controlled Egypt, Egyptian
Baali hid in the shadows there. Many were followers of Shaitan who escaped the
destruction of Knossos, and first among them was Hay-Tau, a childe of Shaitan
reputed to have learned some of his father's skills. Unfortunately, Hay-Tau was
also a Setite thrall and respon sible for betraying his own sire at Knossos.
Shaitan followed Namtaru, but hid his lord's true name carefully. His
childer, on the other hand, worshipped this demon of plague through one of 36
other names. Under Christianity these names became known as the Decani, 36
spirits of disease. Hay-Tau must have learned more than just corrupted names,
though, for he stirred Namtaru, the beast of plague, from his slumber.
The Baali's only warning of the danger to come was a blight that erupted
from Egypt in A.D. 541. It spread to Constantinople -- killing thousands -- then
skittered across Europe, to Britain and finally Ireland. The disease ran its
course, dying out before it could murder the whole of Europe, but the
devastation was terrible. Things would have been far worse had not Cainites --
Baali among them -- interceded and destroyed whole villages before infected
citizens could spread the plague. The effort sufficed, even as Baali in the
British Isles discovered that Nosferatu working for Hay-Tau spread the disease
through their control over vermin.
The older Baali called for a pogrom against the Egyptian Baali and their
agents, but the bloodline lacked the unity and strength to wage war, alone, on
Setite soil. Those Baali loyal to Moloch's vision waited for what they thought
was the end of the world while their lesser siblings continued their "mindless"
ways. The end never arrived, however, and the Children remained dormant. The
older Baali finally surmised that HayTau lacked the power of his sire, and could
not awaken Namtaru despite his best efforts. Unfortunately, the bloodline missed
the opportunity to act upon Hay Tau's weakness. Islam was rising in the east,
throwing the Levant into a maelstrom and preoccupying the Baali with new
problems.
AN ADVERSARY'S AFFAIRS
This is where the Baali are now. It is too late to stop the tainted
knowledge from reaching the far comers of Europe, but it is early enough yet to
punish the guilty. With the Assamites and Azaneal's war in the Levant, many
Baali have fled to Europe. The eldest Baali seek quiet refuge here while
newcomers are comfortable enough with the Christian world to build new nests
across the Frankish kingdoms. Survivors of the older orders find those nests
they can, eliminate the dangerous ones themselves and then betray the remainder
to the local clans. Usually this tactic of sacrificing the young and foolish
sates the clans' bloodlust for Baali vitae; the rest are left in peace when the
other Cainites return home, satisfied that they are now "safe" from the Baali
menace. Even the old ones of the bloodline must be careful, for there are still
those Cainites who remember the Baali from Mesopotamia, or who have heard tales
of Mashkan-shapir and Knossos from their sires. Azaneal is also rumored to have
sent two generals into Europe to recruit new Baali and infernal allies.
ENDGAME
Shadows crept in from the edges qi the chamber and darkness blotted out
the ceiling. Only part of the stone floor was visible in the dim light, its
surface encrusted with brown stains. Flies and wasps crawled across the walls
and floor, hovering in droves over the dried blood. Their wings buzzed
incessantly in the still and silent air. They waited.
Standing with a lantern in his hand, the young man remained motionless. Above
him , Jonathan hung from a thick chain suspended from the ceiling; intricate
stitchcuork covering his naked form. Jonathan screamed, as he had been screaming
for night after night, but no sound issued forth from his parched throat. His
ears had been folded over and melted shut with burning oil. The boy had
irrserted a fly into each ear, however, and Jonathan now spent his time
listening to one fly who whispered its secrets to him. The other fly ignored
Jonathan and rolled Flecks of his earwax into a ball.
The young man watched impassively as his Jonathan spat, then choked. A
fly, coated with an oily mixture of saliva and blood, emerged from between his
parted and cracked lips. Several more followed. Jonathan could no longer even
attempt to cry out as escaping flies Filed his throat; his neck bulged and his
eyes widened in mute panic. He twisted upon the chain like a hooked fish,
writhing with agony as the insect tide bubbled forth from within him. The young
man nodded approvingly and left. The swarm would emerge from this human
chrysalis without his help, and the young man needed to watch the other mortal
hosts during this, the crucial birthing season. It was time to awaken the
darkness.
The Baali are among the least understood Cainites in the Dark Medieval
world. Though they are dogged by the curiosity and speculation of other
Cainites, the Baali and their goals, organization and darkest secrets are
ultimately mysteries to outsiders. Uny who pry too closely are either destroyed
by the bloodline or subsumed by it.
ARMIES OF DARKNESS
Their precarious position leads the Baali to choose their progeny with
greater care than any other contingent of Cainite civilization. The majority of
the bloodline's conscripts were initially subverted from other clans (conversion
being seen as the greatest tribute possible before their patron), but this
practice is now changing, no doubt due to the greater care with which Cainites
school their childer these days. Fledglings, on general principle, are now
carefully plucked from the ranks of the mortal intellectual and spiritual elite
-- scribes, scholars, schoolmasters. Harlots, soldiers and artisans are selected
less frequently, and only when a situation demands their special talents.
There is one exception to this traditionally meticulous selection,
however; above all other things, the Baali are drawn to those possessed of
sincere and unflinching religious faith. They will stop at nothing to force,
seduce, corrupt or cajole such individuals to their cause. Whether this
fascination comes from simple sadism or an obsession akin to that of a moth's
for the flame, none but the newly converted can say.
============================================
Embracing The Dead
The Baali still occasionally poach menbers of other clans, subverting them
to the worship of their dark master. Such initiates are re-Embraced by the Baali
in horrifying ritual fashion. The Initiate is drained completely by a Baali
nest-master, who then allows the pseudoneonate to recapture his own blood by
draining him in turn.While this bizarre practice does not quite re-enact the
Embrace, it does firmly stamp the initiate as Baali. For more information on
these creatures, see the Merit:Apostate on page 44
============================================
BELLY OF THE
BEAST
Like many other immortal creatures, the Baali seem drawn to places of
antiquity. They make their havens in abandoned churches, long-disused temples,
overgrown ruins, subterranean caverns, labyrinthine catacombs, and other
forgotten places. The more closely the site is tied to religion, the better --
almost as if the creatures are irresistibly drawn to that which they most
despise.
It is additionally rumored that no Baali can linger in one place for very
long without betraying hints of her identity or true masters. Is this because of
their unforgiving pantheon's demand for flagrant acts of worship ! Indiscretion
brought on by a gradual uncoupling from sanity? Exposure to incomprehensible
things outside the mortal world! A curse levied upon the bloodline? Or something
else entirely? No one knows for sure, though the most pessimistic among the
clans think that the Baali simply wish to spread their taint as far and as fast
as possible.
Whatever the case, a place frequented long enough by the followers of Baal
tends to accumulate certain signatures. Elaborate carvings appear on and around
abandoned caverns and rock faces. Snippets of conversation in alien and ancient
tongues are overheard by passers-by. Hideous deformities are seen in livestock,
and stillbirths soar in the region. Milk goes sour overnight, and bread refuses
to rise. The longer the Baali remain, the more pestilential the signs of their
presence become.
Although such occurrences are generally dismissed by "educated" men and
women as superstitious claptrap, they serve as grima facie evidence to those
(occultists, Tremere, the scattered witch-hunters who will become the
Inquisition) aware of what such things really mean.
CLAN HIERARCHY
============================================
My Kiss
I remember watching in horror as my sire, a Brood Mother, gave birth to
the swarm. They ate their way to rhe surface of her skin, breaking through their
prison of flesh. Each emerged is slow turn, fat with her vitae. She took a
handful of them and crushed them in her grip. Their red-black ichor dripped from
her fingers as she drank my life, then she forced her dying brood between my
jaws. I died then, nut the blood within the Swarm brought me back. This is the
ritual you and I shall reenact this night; take what wisdom you will from my
story.
The avatars of the Swarm are the only Cainites able to pass on the Kiss in
this fashion. However, while a Brood Mother may carry thousands of living
montrosities within her, the insects need living human hosts in which to
reproduce. The hatching cycle generally takes 2-4 weeks, at wich point all of
the newborns chew their way out of their host, find their Brood Mother and take
up residence within her flesh. The process, unsurprisingly, is always fatal to
the swarm's original meal.
Brood Mothers Embrace on a timetable dictated by their inhabitants. When a
swarm reaches critical mass within a Brood Mother, she will seek between one and
seven disciples to infect with her children. All of these, assuming they survive
the Kiss, will eventually become either drones to the Swarm or Brood Mothers in
their own right.
Two or Three brood insects, bloated with their Mother's blood (though it
should be noted that Cainites of either gender can serve as Brood Mother's),
contains sufficient vitae to ghoul a mortal human - or to help bind a Cainite
through Blood Oath. It is believed by Baali historians that it was through use
of the Swarm in this fashion that Nergal-called-Shaitan was able to ghoul the
entire D'habi line over the centuries.
============================================
Beneath the shaitan, what was once an ancestral and rigidly formalized
culture has since collapsed into fractious feudalism. Some few pockets of elders
still exist, and they observe and enforce the ancient ways. However, they are an
increasingly endangered minority. In these dark nights, the remaining Baali
cling to one another in covens of five to a dozen members, scattered across
Europe and other, foreign shores. Occasionally a renowned member of the
bloodline accumulates a larger following, either through direct appointment on
some special crusade in the name of the shaitan (such lieutenants are known as
al'shaitan), intricate political navigations or repeated effective
demonstrations of brute force, but such uprisings are relatively rare. In
general, traditional Baali seem content to bow before their covenmasters (and
mistresses), working as subversive threads in a sinister tapestry to further
their Masters' ultimate ends. And the nontraditional ones? For them, there can
never be enough blood in the streets.
THE DESTROYER
City streets drown in the cooling corpses of the plaguedead. Fields run
fallow from the blood of a thousand battles. This world slips closer to oblivion
with every passing moment.
Free me, if you will, and I will return to my masters' side, hastening the
end of all. Destroy me, if you can, and my essence will join that of so many
others, flowing unchecked into the cracks we have opened in your world. In
either event, it will be hard for you to continue -- very hard indeed -- knowing
what you now know.
We have already won.
Those who venerate Ba'al-called-the Destroyer seek an end to all things,
that their masters might enter into this world and begin again. Such was their
goal in the palace of Knossos; such continues to be their goal in the lightless
labyrinths and catacombs where they still scuttle in darkness. They do not seek
the wanton slaughter of innocents, but rather to inherit the legacy of incessant
chaos, and to grant a birthright to the next turning of the cycle of oblivion.
Many among the Baali bloodline who deserve the "bloodthirsty cultist"
stereotype with which they are so frequently identified are these "Servitors of
the Void," as many are wont to call themselves. Militant disciples of ultimate
destruction, they have been behind assorted fabrications and folktales about
depraved infemalists and demon-worshippers. Indeed, to welcome the coming of
their venerated Masters, they engage in blatantly obscene rites and rituals, and
even muster great armies, mortal, monstrous, or otherwise, in misguided attempts
to slaughter entire cities as sacrifice.
Fervent devotion, unfortunately, often drowns in unrea soning hatred and
bloodlust. In recent centuries, many of these devotees have lost sight of their
ultimate goal, and are becom ing inextricably entangled with (and
indistinguishable from) so-called Satanic hordes, diabolical hosts, and other
Western conceptions of the infernal. Most of these corrupt sectarians have
degenerated to such a state that they have come to believe in such deviltries
themselves, and have turned their eyes from the glories that sleep beneath
cities like Chorazin.
============================================
The Labrys
Wear this medallion when you come to greet your brethren. It is Labrys.
Within Crete, it was the standard for the House of the Double-Axe, better known
as the Minoan symbol for the Laby-rinth. It represents the horned head of Ba'al.
whose blows crack like thunder and split open the skulls of our enemies. It is
also the weapon with which we shall smite the wall of the divine. There is power
within this symbol, for those who wear it choose to become the wolf, not the
sheep, the victor and not the victim. Other Cainites have forgotten its meaning,
so you may wear it in their presence without fear of reprisal. Anywhere your
gaze comes upon the emblem of the double-axe, know that your bthren are nearby.
============================================
THE CELESTIAL
Let me put the question to you in another manner, one better suited to
your upbringing. "O Lord, is it good unto thee that thou shouldst oppress, that
thou shouldst despise the work of thine hands, and shine upon the counsel of the
wicked!" These are the words of Job. They are the words of a despondent man,
innocent, yet suffering and near death. These are his words, hurled in
supplication at an allegedly benign creator who considers himself to be beyond
iudgment. These are the words of a blind man bemoaning a lifetime spent in blind
servitude no better than that of a kept dog.
Many Baali insist that sages such as Solomon, beneath their Gnostic,
Qaballist and mystical trappings, all served the same masters -- lofty powers
beyond shedim and seraphim, beyond Heaven and Hell, beyond even such meaningless
distinctions as "good" and "evil." Over these beings, in a place none can
follow, their creator rules, a nameless, omnipotent entity akin to the Judaic
YHWH or Tetragrammaton.
Following in the footsteps of their predecessors and parent cultures,
angelic (and demonic) scholars use millennia of compiled charms and circles to
yoke otherworldly beings to their will. These Baali do not often make their
presence known in Cainite power struggles; such temporal concerns are
unimportant to them. They are more concerned with the lifetime of lifetimes they
have with which to acquire knowledge -- with the ultimate goal of using that
knowledge to achieve godhead. Occasionally one such creature (or, more likely,
her summoned minions) emerges from solitude to acquire some trinket or grimoire
her circle does not already possess, but such occasions are few and far between.
These "Celestial" idolaters, with their thousand names, credos and magics,
are among the most difficult of the Baali to identify, much less hunt down. They
do not acknowledge a common name or pantheon of godlings; such names are known
to have true power in the hands of those suitably informed (or indiscreet).
Celestials are often found in association with mortal and Cainite occultists
(including Cappadocians and Tremere), many of whose beliefs and theories
intermesh perfectly with their own -- disparate parts in an unholy union.
THE SWARM
You look upon us, and all you see are demons and monsters. I look upon you
and see nothing but a tool, a birthing vessel for the swarm, a brood mare for a
greater power. Ours is the dark womb from which all sprang, and to which all
will return. Ours is the vision that has been lost and regained through the
shattered glass facets of the fly's eyes. And ours is the chorus whose voices
soothe the dreams of pain and death.
Some Baali claim to hear the siren song of their masters that much more
clearly than the rest of their brethren. To them, the world stirs with a secret
symphony, the strains of which have long been chittered by some of its oldest
inhabitants -- insects.
Avatars of the Swarm (for their ideology admits none of the familiar
Cainite concepts of siring or generation) unfailingly cling to a single unifying
principle. Their sole purpose, or so they claim, is perpetuation of the swarm
from whence they were born, and promulgation of the sweet songs that issue
therefrom. To this end, the insect-beings employ mortal prisoners as grotesque
birthing-flesh for their larvae, defy traditional conceptions of death through
the cultivation of gargantuan organ-pits, and gather in great subterranean hives
-- the better to perfect their unity.
Ironically, these servitors -- drones in service to their progenitor, who
is king, queen, mother, father, and shelter to them all at once -- are among the
most tolerant of Baal's children, for they work to unify all oppositions into
their vision. Theirs are the parts made strong in a seamless whole. Theirs is
the secret that has slept since the birth of the world. And theirs is the great
rebirth that will herald the return of darkness, under a sky blackened by
billions of beating wings.
THE MYSTERY
You creatures are such sublime embodiments of contradiction. Empty
Platitudes regarding the nature of love and forgiveness flow unchecked from your
mouths, like sweet f2uids from an open sore -- and, in the same moment, you
murder, maim, ravage and consign yourselves to an eternity of ignorance in some
~ealot's deluded crusade for truth.
Others have taken up your quest -- others who have cast off the shackles
and blinders they unwittingly forged for themselPies. From what immortal well
did we spring! What is our purpose! Where will we go when all this is past! Walk
with me, and surely we will discover the answer.
It is not known which of the faces of the Children are, or might be, the
"original," but scholars of the enigma of existence have been a part of human
society for as long as human society has existed. The same holds true for
vampiric philosophers of the primal urge, and especially for the Baali. For as
long as the bloodline has existed, certain of its members have pursued that
ultimate Why.
The Baali most devoted to the question are alien creatures, who have
turned their unflinching attentions away from the lesser concerns of society,
solidarity and even survival in contemplation of their Masters' mysteries.
Theirs is the secret at the center of existence, the riddle that has plagued the
universe since the beginning of time. Such ancients have forsaken everything
petty and temporal in their single-minded quest for the ultimate answer, and
will let nothing stand in their way of their plan to uncover it -- or crack the
world trying.
Driven by motivations even they do not fully understand, these "Children
of the Enigma" frequently regard as earthshattering that which seems
inconsequential to others. Indeed, some younger Baali dismiss these scholars as
being more Cappadocian than Baali. They prize nothing so much as enlightenment
-- however alien the notion might seem to others of their kind -- and thrive on
fierce intellectual debate over the smallest matters. A coven of Children of the
Enigma may convene to plan for a ritual sacrifice one night, concentrate their
attentions on corrupting clergy the next, and then abandon both courses of
action in the interests of arguing the implications of some obscure Sumerian
prophecy. As irregular as they are insidious, the Children may hold the key to
the bloodline's ultimate triumph -- or they may be ineffective, deluded fools.
THE MULTITUDE
Some of those few who have heard more than old wives' tales about the
Baali believe internecine squabbles rooted in individual (and often
irreconcilable) philosophies, practices, and political divisions to be the sole
reason the Baali have not
============================================
Blood and Shadows: The Legacy of Azaneal
At lengh the chanting stopped, and the cavern was shrouded in silence. The
first of the bound and blindfolded initiates was dragged before the assemby,
past the bonfire and across to the far side of the cave, where the shadows of
the observers danced and played against the rock wall.
Producing a wickedly curved dagger from his sash, the high priest brought
the blade to bear against the pallid flesh of his forearm, cutting so deep that
the light shone on bone. The blood flowed freely down the priest's arm as the
firelight threw the crimson stream's shadow against the far wall. Two acolytes
held the captive's head skyward to catch the shadow-drops of blood as they
plummeted down the rock face.
And the initiate screamed...
There are those among the progeny of Lasombra whose focus on the darkness
within gradually becomes an obsession with the darkness without. These devil-
worshippers are called angellis ater, or "black angels" (see Libellus Sanguinus
I: Masters of the State)
The particulars of these infernalists' first meeting with the Baali are
not known. However it happened, the unholy alliance has proven to be a strongone
over recent decades. Azaneal's twelve childer, and their disciples, demonstrate
a mastery over darkness thought to be the Magisters' exclusive birthright. At
the same time, the courts of Philip of Swabia and Pope Innocent III are known to
be rife with Lasombra manipulators, some of whom just might be agents of the
infernal. And it is whispered that great Monçada himself consorts unseen in his
cathedrals with unearthly beings and steely-winged angels, though woe betide any
who accuse the Archbishop of anything less than a perfect faith.
Players and Storytellers may wish to introduce Baali of the Azaneali
strain onto their Chronicles. For such creatures, Obtenebration may replace
either Daimoinon or Presence. Azaneali Baali, more often than not, are soulless
vessels - puppet-husks wandering the world at the whim of their diabolical
masters. Some, like Azaneal himself, retain some measure of free will, but their
blood is weak - all of their childer are sterile, and cannot pass on Caine's
curse.
============================================
triumphed. The more energy they expend on internal strife, the less is available
to use in an attempt to summon the universal demiurge.
Despite their fervor and fanaticism, it is clear that a fundamental
division of ideology and practice strikes at the heart of these perverse
practitioners, leading to vicious battles between nests, and even the occasional
betrayal of the odd infernal school to mortal witch hunters.
APOSTASY AND
ABSOLUTION
The Baali propensity for exploration and veneration of the vile and
unspeakable is as much a part of their legend as their fear and revulsion when
confronted with the upright and virtuous. It is thought that the oldest
popularized European lore concerning Cainites and crucifixes stems from some
account of the Baali brood, whose reactions to prayer, religious paraphernalia
and all things sacred are nothing short of extreme.
This duality becomes curious, however, in light of traditional Baali
practice and preference. The overwhelming majority of the Baali do not publicly
acknowledge faiths other than their own, much less lend any credence to them.
How is it, then, that these same Cainites flee in terror for their unlives when
confronted with a crucifix or religious text by a true believer? And what can
explain the fascination (and historical association) of the Baali with those of
the cloth?
The Baali themselves are at a loss to resolve this metaphysical dilemma.
Many of their number, typically the young and zealous, dismiss "True Faith" as
untapped inner potential. Baali Sires see those exceedingly rare and powerful
individuals as all the more worthy of subversion and the Embrace, by merit of
their exceptional qualities. But both of these approaches sidestep the real
question.
The eldest and most knowledgeable Baali take a more metaphysical tack.
When pressed on the matter, they hint at the existence of powers beyond even
their comprehension, and the ability of the "faithful" to tap into such powers.
Those of the bloodline who do believe in such heresies, however, invariably keep
their beliefs to themselves. To suggest the existence of a being even more
powerful than the bloodline's patron, after all, threatens the very foundations
of his worship....
The Baali are all too frequently dismissed as minions of Satan by the
Christian-dominated principalities of Europe. In such a simple assessment -- the
Baali's patron reduced to yet another manifestation of Lucifer -- their ties of
blood are nothing more than witches' covens, and their powers nothing more than
the mark of the Beast. Such are the follies of cultural egocentrism. In truth,
the Cainites of Europe and Asia Minor could not be more self-deceived... or in
greater danger from such self-deception.
It is true that, with the turn of the millennium, many of the servitors of
Ba'al have become concerned (some would say obsessed) with the Christian faith,
even going so far as to incorporate it into their own system of beliefs. On the
other hand, this is hardly a unilateral practice. Over the course of the history
of mankind, many more have worked the worship of their patrons into the circles
of such powers as Anu, Dagon, Hecate, Loki and a hundred others, as well as a
number of entities too alien and removed for even the earliest civilizations to
remember.
The archetypal "devil-worshipper" image, however, serves the Baali well on
several fronts. Indeed, many if not most of their mortal pawns are hand-selected
from prominent wouldbe cultists and demonologists. (See the Dark Ages Companion
for details on mortals and Infernalism.)
============================================
Infernal Investments
While it is true that the Baali bloodline has more dealings with infernal
powers than all of the clans of Cainites combined, That is not to say that each
and every Baali has sold his soul to a demoniac master. Many are content to use
corrupted true names to steal what power they might, and to trust in their own
strengths rather than barter for expensive aid from outside. Naturally, this
leads to some friction between those Baali who have traded with demons and those
who haven't.
Investments are more common among those Baali recruited from other
bloodlines and clans than they are among "true" Baali - many of the newcomers
feel pressure to emphasize their commitment to the bloodline. On the other hand,
older Baali (and particulary those on the Road of the Hive) recognize the
magnitude and consequences of an investment, and are thus inclined to be more
cautions in their pacts with the other side.
============================================
GHOULS
Centuries of heated conflict and persecution across the seas and shores of
the Dark Medieval world (which, the Baali steadfastly maintain, will do nothing
more than sweeten their inevitable victory) have taught the infernalists nothing
if not caution. Consequently, those of the line exercise more care and caution
in their choice of servants than do their Cainite counterparts.
THE OTHERS
ASSAMITES
Hah! Assur, Akkad, Babel, Sargon, Sumer -- do these names mean nothing to
you! Those whom you term beasts we claim as brethren. Their forefathers were
ours; our ancestors dwelt in the same yurts, shared the same salt and bread,
knelt at the same shrines before Apshai, Dagon, Marduk, and a thousand thousand
other houses beneath our Father. The eldest among their number remember us
still, and we have never forgotten them.
BRUJAH
Do not presume to judge them for their rage and fallen aspirations.
Carthage is gone, and Moloch with it, and thus we can even share some of their
sorrow for lost glory.
That understanding, however, makes the Brujah easy prey.
CAPPADOCIANS
Respect our brothers, the Children of Ashur-called-Cappadocius, always,
and do not belittle the methods by which they choose to study eternity. Realize,
however, that there is no place for us in their moralist's mire ofgood, evil,
life, death and the soul.
In the final reckoning, the only true understanding between us can be the
naked blade of a sword.
FOLLOWERS OF SET
Clearly these base defilers represent incontrovertible evidence of our
kind's common origins. Do they not hail from the earliest civilizations of the
kine? Do they not pray to a Lord of Darkness? And yet these wayward fools fall
prey to the petty Western preoccupation with material pleasures, passions, and
perversions. Such wasted potential...
GANGREL
These creatures shun civilization and the company of others. They fear
what they cannot understand, roam the land marking their territories, and become
more and more like the beasts they are with each passing night. As such, they
are beneath our notice.
LASOMBRA
It is an amusing and not altogether uninspiring allegory that ties the
darkness commanded by the Magisters to the lightless, empty visions of power to
which they cling. The Lasombra cannot see past the ephemeral shadows they spawn,
however. In this they are no different from the Ravnos.
MALKAVIANS
Their madness poses a singular mystery. Have they truly glimpsed the
Beyond, and in so doing been touched by that which others would term insanity!
Or are their delusions of a more personal, insignificant sort! Listen to them
and learn what you can -- but tarry not overlong, lest lunacy prove infectious.
NOSFERATU
These disfigured tunnel-dwellers know the wages of sin better than any. Is
it not curious, then how they parade themselves as pitiable martyrs in search of
redemption on the one hand, while sneaking, worming, and blackmailing their way
into confidences on the other! Theirs is a most peculiar hypocrisy.
RAVNOS
There is nothing to fear here. The Ravnos are but a family of tricksters
who gave up their tenuous hold on reality for the sake of pretty pictures in
air. Beware of taking them too lightly, however; they are adept charlatans, and
quick to rope others into their schemes.
SALUBRI
Gentle Saulot. Philosopher. Pilgrim. Pacifist. Passionate. Pathetic.
Of what use are his meditations on pity and purity now, Iwonder!
TOREADOR
These self-blinded narcissists are obsessed with beauty, material
comforts, and vice. They are decadents lost in tepid fascination with the cattle
on whom they feed. Do the Childer of Caine not already shoulder more than our
fair share of dead weight and degenerates?
TREMERE
Imagine! A fugitive band of wand-waving wizards who first pried
immortality from the fingers of their greatest competitors, then subjugated the
soul of an ancient in their quest for power. Such determination! Such divine
treachery! And to think it is said that we are beyond the understanding of our
Western brethren...
We shall speak more with the Tremere anon, I suspect.
TZIMISCE
The Fiends have achieved immortality, something man has searched for since
the Garden was barred to him. The mysteries of infinity, nothingness, this world
and that which lies beyond are subjects given them to ponder over an eternity of
lifetimes -- and yet they persist in playing their little games with the all-
too-fleeting currencies of fear, fiefdoms and the flesh. Piling layer upon layer
of custom and ceremony does not hide the emptiness of their existences, nor does
it grant majesty.
VENTRUE
They have such lofty aspirations for a hidebound circle of egotists. It is
their belief that lions rule, is it not? Surely they have also been made aware
that even lions have their predators -- and that in the end, the carrion beast
devours all.
OTHERS
WEREWOLVES
The Mark of the Beast manifests itself in many ways; the Change is but one
of them. The Lupines are primitive, warlike and dangerous. Avoid them at all
costs.
MAGES
Fractious and reclusive, these students of the unknowable wield
inexplicable powers. At least, those powers are inexplicable to others not privy
to our secrets. The sorcerers can glimpse parts of the truth that we alone know,
and that makes them dangerous.
WRAITHS
The Restless Dead have escaped damnation by the narrowest of margins. It
is our duty to assist them the rest of the way to Hell, so that our masters
might feed on them and grow strong.
============================================
An Exotic Epiphany: Baali and the East
Although the vast majority of the so-called "histories" of the Baali are
apocryphal, most make a point of tying the bloodline to the mysterious East.
Nergal-called-Shaitan is thought to have marshaled his first followers after a
sojourn to the Far East to study with inhuman masters in mountains high enough
to be called "The Roof of the World." Stories of walking corpses hungry for
life-essence and dripping corruption come from the lips of traders and madmen
out of the Eastern deserts. And it has been written that Ashur himself, divine
ruler of the Assyrian Empire, returned home alone, humbled and broken, years
after leading an enormous army to far shores of which there are no records in
Western maps or chronicles...
============================================
NEW TRAITS
KNOWLEDGES
DEMONOLOGY
You are versed in the lore of angels, demons, devas, devils and
otherworldly beings. You may be familiar with the traditional Western schools of
thought (black magic, diabolism, witchcraft), or possess insights into the
methodologies of other cultures (Arabic, Eastern, Persian, Semitic etc.). With
sufficient training in this Knowledge, you may even have access to a number of
covenants, cultist practices and secret rituals. Demonology is unlike Hearth
Wisdom in that most of what you "know" is actually true (though certainly not
all of it).
o Dabbler: Your knowledge consists largely of speculation and
hearsay.
oo Student: Although you have a hard time separating truth from
rumor, you know a few relevant facts.
ooo Learned: You possess basic knowledge of the nether realms and
their inhabitants.
oooo Scholar: Your knowledge pertaining to various incarnations of
the celestial and infernal is expansive and encyclopedic. You possess a
considerable repertoire of rites and rituals -- which may or may not work.
ooooo Savant: The very manner in which you perceive reality has been
altered by your eldritch understanding. The breadth and depth of your knowledge
rivals that of the ancient masters of the hidden arts.
oooooo Visionary:Your command of the great secrets is beyond the ken
of mere mortals. You are known to many of the greater powers who dwell Outside
-- and know them in
turn.
Possessed by: Baali, Clergy, Cultists, Mystics, Scholars, Tremere, Witches
Specialties: Christian, Gnostic, Norse, Qaballah, Sufi, Wicca
PLAGUE-BREEDING
Plague is as much a part of the Dark Medieval landscape as mud and death.
Without knowledge of the true causes of disease, mortals (and immortals as well)
lay the blame at the feet of black cats, witches, spirits and assorted minority
groups whom everybody knows to poison the wells.
But with this Knowledge you know better. You know how to brew disease in
corpses, how to feed corruption and taint until you have a bubbling cauldron of
plague ready to loose upon the world. You understand instinctively how to use
vermin and insects to spread disease, and can even direct the spread of plague
to a certain extent. When mounting sieges, you know how to use disease as a
weapon with which to reduce towns and fortresses, and you can even poison
someone with disease-causing agents so that the death looks natural.
o Dabbler: You know that letting a corpse rot brings flies
oo Student: You can poison wells or direct siege engines to
catapult corpses over city walls.
ooo Learned: You know how to breed different plagues, and can
tend contagion like a garden.
oooo Scholar: You can direct your creations' spread, and can brew
almost any illness known to man.
ooooo Savant: The plague-pits are filled with your handiwork; armies
wreak less devastation than do your creations.
oooooo Visionary: In your laboratory of the obscene, you can create
new diseases and summon plagues of demonic virulence. Should you wish, you could
depopulate a kingdom with ease.
Possessed By: Baali, Nosferatu, Brigand Captains, Sorcerers
Specialties: Black Death, BiologicalWarfare, Mass Devastation
ROADS
VIA DIABOLIS REVISITED
Any number of anecdotes and "be-good" bedtime stories are told among
Cainites concerning the Baali bloodline. According to the cautionary tales that
Sires tell their childer, these fiendish creatures are possessed of a single-
minded devotion to monstrosity - some monstrous design or purpose, dedicating
them to the macabre and malign in the pursuit of evil for its own sake. In the
stories, the Baali's unlives are dedicated to the greater glory of some devil-
god who promises each faithful follower her own personal Hell on earth. And
from there, the tales get even more unbelievable.
Though these legends are not without their grains of truth, that's a long
way from saying that they are all completely true. Admittedly, many Baali do
choose to embrace the alien and amoral aspects of immortality by treading the
so-called Road of the Devil, but mindless malevolence is hardly the only way one
can go on that Road. There are those within the Baali ranks who exult in some
self-bestowed demonic epithet, piling atrocity upon atrocity in the name of a
real (but unimpressed) or imaginary master. Such lackwits (often mockingly
referred to as "children" or "lesser Baali" by their older and more restrained
bloodline-mates) are easily hunted down and destroyed. After all, a trail of
unrelieved slaughter and sadism is difficult to disguise, and easy for a hunter
to follow. Thank fully, such Baali are a distasteful minority -- an
embarrassment to and convenient camouflage for the ancient scholars,
philosophers, prophets, and visionaries from whose line they descend.
But that minority is growing.
Ironically, something about contact with the Western world is corrupting
the bloodline's sense of purpose. Perhaps the source of the weakness is too much
contact with the minds of the Baali's masters, or it could be that some
incestuous weakness has emerged through a taint in the blood -- but the details
are unimportant. More and more Baali have lost sight of what the bloodline
stands for, descending into savagery and pathetic madness.
Some of these degraded neonates, goaded by either their own inadequacy or
by sheer isolation, begin to identify with the Christian concept of evil. Such
lunatics commonly proclaim themselves to be "servants of Satan" (more than one
has claimed to be Magog) or some such. Others seek nothing more than an eternity
of bestiality and bloodshed, adopting whatever religious trappings are at hand
while wallowing in offal. Many simply spiral helplessly into the clutches of the
Beast. Whatever the details, the end result is the same. These hypocrites
forever lose sight of the unifying principle which once bound the bloodline
together.
In the eyes of the Baali elders who maintain a degree of control over
their brethren, the situation is fast becoming dire. Their childer, and their
childer's childer, are falling further and further into pointless decadence and
degeneracy -- worse even than the hated Setites -- and, in a very real sense,
becoming what their adversaries have always perceived them to be. If the trend
is not reversed, and soon, the bloodline may find itself hunted to near
extinction -- or immolated on the pyres it sets for itself.
============================================
Road of the Hive
Score Minimum Wrongdoing for Conviction roll
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------
10 Arguing with a fellow follower of the Road
9 Taking an outsider's side against that of another on the Via Hyron
8 Actively working against the plans of another on the Road
7 Actively working against a member of your nest's plans
6 Betraying a fellow Baali
5 Betraying a fellow traveler on the Road
4 Betraying a member of your generation or order
3 Betraying a member of your nest
2 Betraying an elder of the bloodline
1 Betraying your Sire or a Baali to whom you are Blood-Oathbound
============================================
Someone once likened the Baali to a swarm of bees and Via Hyron as a
mandate for multiple queens. The Hierarchies of Sin for this Road, however,
demand loyalty to the Baali and all members. The higher one progresses on the
chart, the more difficult it is to refube aid to another Baali.
This may be the most damaging aspect of Azaneal's revolt against the
elders of the bloodline. A devotee of Via Diabolis, Azaneal teaches his
followers the precepts of the angellis ater and not Via Hyron. As such, his
Baali have no loyalty to the rest of the bloodline, or indeed to any Baali
besides themselves and Azaneal.
ADDITIONAL
DISCIPLINE POWERS
DAIMOINON
oooooo GLIMPSE THE GULF BEYOND
There are worlds beyond worlds and places beyond space and time; this
power allows a Baali to shatter the boundaries between such zones of cosmic
terror and the mundane world. Glimpse the Gulf Beyond is never used lightly, for
even the masters of Daimoinon fear what they might see -- or what might see
them. But when a Baali does invoke the face of the Void, the effects are
terrifying.
When Glimpse the Gulf Beyond is invoked, the Baali literally uses his will
to force cracks in the walls of reality. Through those cracks come the sights,
sounds, smells and other aspects of existence outside of reality as most know
it. While exactly what comes through from the other side varies from moment to
moment (blasphemous whispers one second, a chamel stench and the howls of the
damned the next), the impact on the target is always tremendous.
System: The player spends a Willpower point, then rolls Stamina + Occult
(difficulty 7) against the target's Willpower roll (difficulty also 7). The
attacker's leftover successes dictate the effect:
No successes: The passage fails to open; no effect.
1 successes: The onlooker is shaken, but physically unharmed. He
loses a temporary point of Willpower and is down one die on all rolls for the
scene.
2 successes: The subject temporarily loses two points Willpower, and
must then roll Courage (difficulty = 1O minus his current Willpower) against
Rötschreck, in addition to suffering a one die penalty on all rolls.
3 successes: The target temporarily loses three Willpower, and must
make a Self-Control/Instinct roll (difficulty 7) or lose consciousness. Even if
this roll is successful, the target is badly shaken, and suffers a two die
penalty on all rolls for the duration of the scene.
4 successes: The target temporarily loses four Willpower, and must
immediately roll Self Control/Instinct (difficulty 8) or fall into a
catatonic state for an hour.
5+ successes: The strain of perceptions battling the imperceptible
proves to be too much for the victim's mind. The target must make a Willpower
roll (difficulty 7) or become severely mentally incapacitated to the point of
permanent gibbering idiocy. Even if the victim succeeds on the Willpower roll,
treat the effect as if the Baali scored 4 successes.
Reducing a victim's Willpower to zero in this fashion may leave her with a
(random) Derangement. This infirmity can be either temporary or permanent, as
warranted by the severity of the victim's trauma.
A botch indicates something has gone terribly wrong with the Baali's
attempt to open the portal. In such cases, Storytellers are encouraged to
exercise their fiendish discretion, but some possibilities include backlash from
the Other Side, the escape of an unwanted visitor into this realm or even the
abduction of the Baali herself.
Baali alone are immune to this power, but even among their ranks, there
are few who gaze willingly into the Void, or who do so for long.
OTHER POWERS
I AM LEGION (DAIMOINON LEVEL
THREE, OBFUSCATE LEVEL TWO)
One of the Baali's most devious methods of avoiding detection, this subtle
magic allows the Baali to forge a temporary pact with a "speaking demon" or
other malevolent spirit (Storyteller's discretion as to what sort of being is
appropriate). Once the pact is sealed, the Baali's partner in mischief
temporarily leaps into the vampire's body, assuming a state of limited control
over its voice and movements.
While the Baali is "possessed," the interloper who answers is essentially
in charge, allowing for a certain amount of leeway when it comes to answering
uncomfortable question. After all, the demon can answer questions (truthfully)
that might otherwise prove difficult for the Baali to respond to under magical,
Auspex-based, or other scrutiny. For example, the demon within may cheerfully
answer "no" to such tired questions as "Are you Baali!" or "Do you engage in the
worship of demons!" In a pinch, the demon may attempt to pose as Caitiff or even
mortal; "I am clanless" and "I am not a vampire" are both perfectly reasonable
true statements for a non-vampiric creature to make, after all.
System: The player must succeed in a Manipulation + Leadership roll (difficulty
6) to ensnare a suitable demon or spirit. The number of successes dictates the
summoned creature's intelligence and willingness to help, which in turn
indicates the extent to which it is capable of concocting useful reactions to
pertinent questions and/or situations. A failure indicates just that -- failure
to ensnare the being -- while a botch can result in true catastrophe (a creature
who does not wish to leave the easter's body, or who betrays her, at the
Storyteller's discretion).
Baali hedging their bets with this sort of deal can make "concessions" to
the inhabiting creature to win more cooperation. It is up to the Storyteller to
determine what sort of goodies the possessing demon might want, what it could
give in return, and whether or not it will keep its bargains.
Falta pagina 65
CYBELE
Cybele was Shaitan's childe, though precisely which Shaitan may never be
known. Embraced in the maddening corridors of the Knossos Labyrinth, she learned
her craft from its whispers and advanced along paths of corruption and power far
quicker than any of Shaitan's other progeny. When Thera erupted, she was among
the few acolytes who escaped Crete; she bore with her the knowledge that
Moloch's Baali had betrayed her sire.
Cybele was Moloch's chief adversary following the destruction of Crete.
She grew in power far quicker than any could have anticipated, and dedicated her
unlife to fighting her sire's betrayer. When Carthage sent Hannibal forth in the
Punic Wars, Cybele helped Rome defeat the African general. Her actions to defend
the city earned her praise and power from Rome's other Cainites, who were
unaware of her lineage. Unfortunately, Cybele herself put an end to her
advances; she suffered from a terrible blood-lust, and occasionally went on
murderous and bloody rampages through her temples. Her Cainite supporters within
the Roman Senate tried to hush the matter up, but before long the truth of her
origins was whispered in the Forum.
Despite Cybele's favored status among Cainites, Romans regarded her cult
with some fear and trepidation -- especially during festivals, when her eunuch
galli priests danced in the streets, cutting themselves with knives and
performing public rites of self-castration. These actions slowly ostracized
Cybele from even those portions of Cainite society who disbelieved the rumors of
her bloodline, and she grew increasingly angry at her isolation. That anger
manifested itself in more and bloodier rampages, and so the bloody cycle spun
merrily along.
The ultimate fate of Cybele remains a mystery following the fall of
Carthage. It was her rituals that sealed Troile and Moloch in the earth -- where
they still sleep to this day -- but she never accompanied the Roman armies back
around the orbis terrarum. The last reliable sighting of Cybele instead placed
her aboard a ship bound for Crete, where her unlife began. Those who saw her
said she seemed tired and spent, as though the years of hatred had taken their
toll.
Nearly a millennia later, unsubstantiated rumors are spreading that Cybele
herself appeared at the pit of Iblii-al-Akbar, during the ritual to curse the
Assamites. She identified herself as Decani, and blessed the elixir of cursed
blood. Those who knew her say she served Namtaru, her sire's master. If Cybele
discovered a way back into Labyrinth following Carthage's destruction, she may
have also found Namtaru. If so, then she has taken one of Namtaru's 36 names and
become Decani.
AZANEAL
Azaneal, leader of the new Baali movement, is the undisputed ruler of
Chorazin and the first Cainite to galvanize the bloodline since Shaitan.
Although he lacks his predecessor's charisma, Azaneal is still a potent
adversary. Physically, he is an imposing figure, with eyes of almost solid
black, and a nearpalpable aura of darkness. Mentally, he does not possess
Shaitan's subtlety, but compensates for this lack through strength of will.
Despite the forces that Azaneal gathers, he has no intention of repeating
the mistakes of his predecessors. Instead, he seeks to unite the bloodline under
his dominion, and to usurp the Elders of the Baali. That, at least, is what he
tells his followers, and there are certainly enough Baali who are anxious for
him to take the bloodline's reins. Azaneal's true agenda, however, is to uncover
all of the secrets of Chorazin. He believes Shaitan meant Chorazin not to be an
end unto itself, but rather a gate through which eternal darkness would enter
the world. Alas for him, though, he does not know how to complete Shaitan's
work.
One key Azaneal believes he lacks is the body ofN amtaru. The Baali master
of shadows has sent several Cainites to Crete in efforts to uncover the
Labyrinth, but his agents have all vanished. Azaneal suspects the infamous
Decani guard the Labyrinth, and it is they who are destroying his servants. If
that is true, then Azaneal feels that he does not possess the ability to fight
them at this time. Instead, he concentrates on creating fertile childer, and
subjugating the Baali of Europe. Perhaps with a united bloodline behind him, he
can take Crete and return Namtaru to Chorazin.
MA-RI-AH
Once-concubine of the king of a long-dead Akkadian city-state, this former
protege of the fiendish high priest Anaduk the Black (see Constantinople by
Night) has risen remarkably quickly through the ranks of her hellish bloodline.
Her extraordinarily calm, unrufned nature is legendary even among the
Childer of Caine. When she acts, she does so quickly and without confusion; like
many others of her kind, she works alone, preferring solitude to the company of
others. Those few Cainites who have met and spoken with her note that she goes
covered and veiled, in the tradition of Islam, though some whisper that she is
concealing some disfigurement. Additionally, she bears an especial hatred for
the children of Arikel, ensnaring, seducing, and torturing any Toreador
unfortunate enough to cross her path or otherwise trespass upon her holdings.
None are sure exactly why, though piles of ash throughout Europe testify to her
efficiency.
Ma-ri-ah has ingratiated herself to several greater powers, including the
horrid Decani and their peers. More terrifying is the fact that she serves no
less an entity than the Child called Anoster, Lord of Despair -- a feat truly
exceptional for one of her standing. With this potent backing, she has turned
her attentions to Byzantium, its tenuous relations with the Western Church and
the great games of power that are all too frequently played therein.
Unsurprisingly, rumors regarding Ma-ri-ah's eccentric, solitary nature and
twisted motives abound, however. Some name her traitor to her own kind, and call
her a murderess responsible for the destruction of her sire. Others believe she
is not Baali at all, but a subversive agent of other powers, perhaps Setite or
Tremere. One source, stemming from a fragmented chunk of an Eblaite tablet,
claims that she has evolved beyond the limitations of mortal and Cainite
existence altogether, and become a dark and hungry goddess made flesh.
Whatever the truth, "Mary" has become something of a dangerous figure in
to her contemporaries, and to the Dark Medieval world as a whole. She is woman,
wild-card and waist-deep in the politics and intrigue of the realm. She deals
with mortals and immortals, and is a prominent figure upon whom many eyes have
settled.
And as always, the nail that stands too tall is inevitably hammered down.
Many older Baali orders have abandoned the Levant for Europe or the
uncharted East, in an attempt to marshal their forces far from those who know
and hunt them. Their home shall always be between the cradling arms of the
Tigris and Euphrates, but such lands are no longer safe for them.
There are other matters, though, of greater concern to them. Through their
laxity and weakness, the Baali have allowed too many true names to slip out into
the world. Uncontrolled and unbidden, these names have brought the Sleepers
closer to waking than they have been since the days of the first tribe.
Mysterious plagues boil forth with increasing frequency, and the Baali know this
to be evidence that Namtaru is awakening. Those who know the legends of the
Children fear that once Namtaru awakens, the other sleepers will be close
behind. These Cainites now hide, or they seek ways of undoing the impossible.
Some hope that by rediscovering the oldest true names, the first names of the
Children, they can find a way to control their actions -- for should the current
trends continue, the Children will rise in wrath and hunger, beholden to none.
Others seek to hasten the awakening, hoping that by doing reverence unto the
sleepers, they might be spared in the coming dark days. And in Europe, the
children of the bloodline cavort and name themselves Mephisto, and in their
ignorance shout names that echo between the worlds.
All true Baali know that the end is coming, however. And if asked, they
will tell you that they think it is coming very soon.