The Orchestra of the Black Hand
In the center of the British Empire, new entertainments and musical styles flooded into the capital. Music evolved, shifted, and birthed new movements, a concerto of sound reaching across the ages.
But my sire was born long before this era. Centuries before, hidden as a weapon by an organization few even knew the existence of: the Tal’ Mahe’ Ra.
The Orchestra of the Black Hand
I am told we were conceived as a weapon originally, although there are again several different stories. Sometime after the fall of Rome, there was a plan to create a small cadre of Toreador who might infiltrate the Camarilla. They were to sing and perform for the cream of vampire society and gently nudge them towards insanity. It was to be a slow descent, as each high ranking Kindred became more and more erratic. By the time anyone realized what had happened and moved to replace the insane leaders, the Camarilla would already be in tatters.
So the Tal’ Mahe’ Ra assembled some of their best Toreador singers, performers so talented that every Elysium would want them. Then the Sect found a Malkavian to teach them their powers. But it appears things did not go entirely to plan. Some say the Toreador learned too much, while others say it was not enough. Either way, anyone with any sense should have realized that adding a Malvavian to any plan was going to take things in an unexpected direction.
Years became decades, then centuries, and for all the training, controlled Embraces, and manipulation, the Tal’ Mahe’ Ra was never entirely happy with what we had become. By the Renaissance we were something new, but we were too different to do the job we were designed for. One arm of the Sect wanted us destroyed on principle, as a loose end. Other, more pragmatic voices insisted there must be a use for us somewhere. As you might imagine, we did not get a vote.
Broken Instruments
Left to our own devices, some of us quietly found ways to slip from Tal’ Mahe’ Ra control. We were careful not to reveal ourselves or betray our origins. Of all the Sects, the Tal’ Mahe’ Ra is the least forgiving with those who can’ t keep quiet. Many of us made a living as traveling entertainers among the wealthy. Few Kindred thought of us as anything more than clever Toreador, and our itinerant nature kept too many from asking about our lineage.
Unfortunately, we couldn’ t keep quiet for long. The music that is our constant companion needed to be free, and as the drawing rooms gave way to music halls and theaters we stepped
into the light. We knew the dangers, but we were like moths to a flame. We could offer our voices to hundreds, and we sang. It was beautiful and glorious. But as you might expect, people began to notice that we were different. Questions were raised, and Princes called upon us to explain ourselves.
Luckily, we keep our secrets well. The oldest Daughters remained among the Tal’ Mahe’ Ra, while only the youngest had been forgotten and slipped through the cracks. On the whole, these childer knew almost nothing of their origin, and those who did stayed quiet. The Tal’ Mahe’ Ra watched silently, ready to slaughter those of us who revealed too much. A sword of Damocles rested over our entire bloodline. But we remained discrete. We had no interest in politics, and that was enough for us to be left alone. We sang for Princes and they allowed us to stay, even entreated us to join Camarilla society.
So it eventually became time to make a deal. The Tal’ Mahe’ Ra didn’ t want us, and the Camarilla did. We made a pact with our old masters that we would never share their secrets, and in turn they would allow us to exist. Sires would tell nothing to their childer of the Tal’ Mahe’ Ra, and myths would be allowed to grow in place of truth. Some of us stayed with the Tal’ Mahe’ Ra, including many of our original elders. Those of us who know of our origin know that if we share the tale, our eldest will be the first to pay the price. Some of us share the truth with those we trust. We are, after all, still Kindred, and anyone who trusts a Kindred to keep their word is a fool. But on the whole, we keep the secret; the stakes are too high not to.
There is one thing about the tale that always makes me wonder. As much as we were part of a plan to destroy the Camarilla, the Tal’ Mahe’ Ra had another scheme to destroy the Sabbat. The Sword of Caine is no less dangerous or smaller a threat to their secrecy and agenda. So there must have been another failed experiment. I often wonder what might have happened to that, if it existed, and if some other bloodline out there is, in truth, our sisters.
Our Own Song
As the Victorian age gave way to the new era of technology and science of the modern age, we have remade ourselves anew. Seen one way, we are a forgotten remnant of a failed experiment; in another light, a new butterfly freed from a cocoon. We can make our own choices at last, carve our own destiny. We are at last able to ask the important question – what do we want?
The modern age has taken something from us, though. The music halls are mostly gone in an age of recorded music. Some of us can bring our powers to bear on recorded media, but even those who can still yearn for the thrill of performing
LORE OF THE BLOODLINES 21