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We spent our time discovering treatises on the Abyss,
the fae, and blood magic, as well as making inroads into
the power Marconius’ experiences bestowed. I’ve never
begrudged the abilities of our line, but I do know many
became prey to mortal inquisitors due to our appearances.
Being other is occasionally a cross to bear. That’s when the arguments started. “You’d alter our
blood further? Look at us!” cried some. “We must steal the
blood of the Tremere as they did the blood of the Salubri!”
proclaimed others. “Alliance with the Warlocks betrays
our Sabbat sponsors!” announced the occasional Kiasyd
trying too hard. My point is, in the 100 years we’d drifted;
our views had changed substantially from one another, if
indeed they were ever similar.
Winter Rosebud
n The fourth Great Symposium, held in Constantinople
in 1866 was cataclysmic. We’d invited a Tremere — that
tattooed virtuoso of Skopje, Pyotr Stanislav — to this event.
We wanted him to hear the promise of our lines working
together, forming vampires even more evolved than his
Clan or our bloodline.
A REFRESHING CONCOCTION HARVESTED
FROM THE VEINS OF TOREADOR, SPICED
WITH A SPRIG OF MINT AND SERVED OVER ICE —
THE WINTER ROSEBUD WILL CLEAR YOUR HEAD
OF ALL TROUBLES. A PERFECT APÉRITIF TO
DRINK UPON WAKING.
DESIGNED IN THE FAMOUS KRAKÓW BAR MLECZNY
The Great Symposium
The subject of blood magic came up repeatedly in our
research, compelling us to meet together. It seemed a fine
road to power through understanding, and segued nicely
with our other esoteric preoccupations. In 1666, at the
Cathedral of Our Lady of Strasbourg, we secretly arranged
the first Great Symposium. This was in contravention of the
Lasombra orders that we remain separated, but our excitement
overwhelmed thoughts of abiding by such a pointless ruling.
Our initial meetings were splendid, with polite
comparisons of study over refreshing goblets of rich vitae.
Even Marconius was there, smiling and nodding, though
he seemed away with the fairies, if you’ll excuse the phrase.
It was there Isanwayen introduced our number to drinking
from flayed bodies, explaining how it was preferential to
letting blood oxidize, or risking infection by drinking directly
from the filthy skin of a vessel.
Alas, many took umbrage at his attendance. Maybe
it was due to Sect leanings, or Kiasyd seeing the Great
Symposium as an affair exclusive to our bloodline, but
bloodshed was the result. Kiasyd killed one another as we
allowed ancient disagreements to become battles. Valuable
research was destroyed in the inferno that followed. Such
valuable research. I still weep to remember the papers I lost.
Oh, Stanislav didn’t make it out either.
Since then, it’s been hard to find members of our bloodline
who trust one another. We lost so much at the Symposium, and
no few of us believe it was a calculated attempt by the slower
thinkers to sabotage the research of individuals outpacing them.
Resentment and civil conflict reverberated through our bloodline.
One month before the Great Symposium of 1916, Pherydima
found her entire dissertation on the true names of Abyssal entities
stolen by another Kiasyd. Fae sigils were left at the crime scene.
Once upon a time, such a heinous offense wouldn’t have been
dreamt of by the lowest Weirdling. The thief was never discovered.
The Great Symposiums were canceled for the entire 20th
century. Thankfully, their reprisal’s due next year. Hopefully,
it signals a new era. I pray tempers have cooled sufficiently
to allow civil discourse, exchange of information, and the
magics of advancement our line has long been due.
You’ve not tried it? I cannot recommend it enough,
especially from virginal vessels. The taste is pure gold. Has your ink ran dry? Cut a new hole, for now we enter
the present.
I’ve become distracted. Ah yes; blood magic. We considered
that, beside us, the most advanced vampire state was exemplified
by the Tremere. Marconius was of similar — albeit not Hermetic
— heritage, and the alchemical mix of the most dangerous
predators upon this Earth was within our vitae. It seemed likely
with the correct trials we could advance further. Marconius
began to talk profusely and sagely on the secrets the Abyss
and Thallain would gift us. He also advocated reaching out
to the Tremere. Ladies, Gentlemen,
and Other
If the skin is too hairy, shave it before writi ng upon it.
We are other, as far as vampires outside our bloodline are
concerned. We’re therefore entitled the status of “bugaboos,” which
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