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BY G REG S TOLZE SOMEHOW Sample file

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BY GREG STOLZE

SOMEHOW

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he wanted to kill her. More than that, though, he wantedto annihilate her, wanted to violate her, wanted to do some-thing to her so awful there was no name for it, some obscene,absurd, overblown punishment for her temerity, for daring toexist in the same place as he did. Instant, total loathing. That’show he knew she was a vampire.

He blew it off and put on an easy smile. He cleared histhroat to get her attention and kept the smile going as sheinstinctively snarled at him. The man across the table fromher twitched, clearly uneasy.

speed date men, or the glances of interest or intimidation orboth commingled from the speed date women.

The singles were taking their five minute turns in a HolidayInn conference room, with a few pathetic flower arrangementstrying to make it less sterile and more fun. Duce told himself thathe’d never hunt in this terrain even if the alternative was starva-tion. He knew, of course, that if push came to shove he would.

He left for the bar. It was better, and he’d gotten a phonenumber by the time Ofelia entered. She gave him a suspiciousglance, hesitated, but sat down by him.

The first time Duce Carter saw Ofelia Chase,

“It’s all right,” Duce told him. “She’s not mad at you.”“Um,” the guy said. “This is . . . uh . . . ”“I’m her old boyfriend,” Duce said, tipping her a wink. “I’m

sorry to interrupt and everything.”“This is his five minutes,” Ofelia said, even as a woman with

a clipboard and a strained smile came over to ask if Duce neededany help. Her tone told him she was silently praying that hewas not going to make a scene, was not going to kick up a fuss,was not going to disrupt this evening’s round of speed dating.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Duce said. “I’m very sorry.” Helet the woman with the clipboard pull him away, and he en-joyed her relief as much as her nervousness, much as he en-joyed the looks of curiosity or sour competitiveness from the

“Duce Carter,” he said, shaking her hand.“Ofelia,” she replied. Her skin was lighter than his, but not

by much. Her features, however, were sharper, more typicallywhite. There was a dusting of darker freckles on her straightnose, and on her cheekbones.

“You can do better, right?” he said. “I mean, sure, you can . . . ”“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” Her voice was sharp.“Now, now, sister. Don’t purse your lips and schoolteach at

me,” he said. “I’m just observing, all right?”“Checking out the new meat on the street, is that it?”“No need to make everything sound ugly. You and me, we

have our needs, and if we’re not meeting them together, weshould at least keep out of each other’s way.”

áyouäre trying to be courteous?à

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áyou ainät making it easy.à He gave her a smile. He turned on the charm. She thawed a

little, he could tell.“You’re new,” he said. “I saw you at court, and I was going

to introduce myself, but your Crone crew seemed to bekeeping you under pretty tight wraps. Your sire finally letyou off the hook to try something on your own?”

“Not quite.” It was a new voice that spoke, one mar-ginally feminine and entirely humorless. It was un-expected and unpleasantly close to Duce’s ear.

He did not flinch in surprise. He turned and keptthe smile working as he said, “Moyra. Didn’t seeyou there.”

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re try-ing to do,” Moyra hissed. Her face was tightwith anger.

“You might want to check your tone,” Ducesaid. His face was still mild and pleasant, buthe put a little steel behind his words.

“Keep away from my offspring, Douche.”“Put the fangs away, Moyra. They’re making you lisp.”Moyra ground her teeth, and he grinned wider, and then

she grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him toward the back exit.“Wait!” Ofelia called, but Duce gave her a little wave.“You wait,” he said. “One way or the other, I expect this won’t take long.”They were barely out the door be-

fore Moyra took a swing at him, butDuce ducked it, giving his eyes amoment to adjust, making sure noone else was . . . .

Moyra had vanished.“Aw shit,” Duce said, and

got his arms up around hishead before she reappeared,this time holding a boardand swinging it into hisside. Since his arms werealready up, it was naturalto give her a series of quickjabs to the face, snapping herhead back. Bruises rose on herflesh and then faded as quickly as breathon a cold windowpane.

“This is stupid,” Duce said as they circled.“I know what you’re doing!”She swung again, and this time he was ready. He grabbed the board and yanked hard, sending her face-first into a wall.“But do you know what you’re doing?” he asked, then grunted. He looked down and saw a throwing knife in his gut.“Bitch!” Now it was his turn with the board, and he cracked her on the skull, no subtlety, just rage and brute force.It went like that for what seemed like a long time but was only a couple seconds before Duce realized that it was a pretty close

fight. Moyra just might kill him. So he said, “This is really stupid,” again, and swung the board close enough to make her cringe,

but checked the blow.

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Her face was badly bruised, and this time the marks weren’t fading. She had asecond knife in her hand. Duce looked at it and dropped the board. He figured hecould always pull the blade out of his stomach if he needed to rearm. But Moyraseemed to reach the same conclusion, that the match was too close to call, andher knife disappeared as quickly as she’d drawn it.

“You’re not going to take her away from me,” she said.Duce grunted as he pulled out her weapon and closed his belly wound.

“That sounds like a bet to me.”When they went back inside, Ofelia was gone.# # #Initially, Duce hadn’t even wanted to go.

A couple of older, respected Carthians haddropped by his place and shot the shit fora while, watched some of the Duke gameon TV, grumbled about the crazies inthe Lancea Sanctum. Then they’dgotten to the point.

“She’s a Crone neonate, justbrought in during the Indul-gence,” Pete said. Pete wasgruff, blue-jeaned, wearinga truck-stop cap and aTeamsters ring. He hadclout. “Knock her.”

“Aw c’mon,” Duce said.“You can’t expect me tojust walk on by, give her awink and bring her into theMovement. Be real.”

“This is real,” the otherCarthian said. Her namewas Brenda, and she wasfrom the intellectual wing,dressed in ElizabethArden and wearingjade earrings thatclashed with

her shoes.“The re-

cently Em-braced are the

most vulnerableto recruitment,

and that’s especiallytrue of the Circle,

where the, the spiri-tual milieu is alien and

therefore alienating . . . ”While she prattled,

Pete dropped a folder onDuce’s table. Duce opened it,

still grumbling.“Why do I have to do it. Just last

month I . . . ” He saw her picture andgrimaced. “Oh, it’s like that.”“No, it’s not,” said Brenda as Pete

shrugged and said, “I guess.”“To lure away the black Acolyte, you figure

you need your go-to brother . . . ”“We can talk around race all night,” Brenda

said, “But we’ll never get around it. She’s just startedher Requiem, she’s scared, she’s alone, anything fa-

miliar might . . . ”“What the hell is biomolecular chemistry?” Duce asked.

“I’m curious ‘cause, y’know, when I got my GED in theslammer they skipped that class, and she’s got a PhD in it.”“How would I know?” Pete asked. “You gonna do this

thing or not?”“Do I have to?”Brenda and Pete exchanged a glance. Pete looked down at

his ring and turned it so the face was in.“No,” the union man said coolly. “Not at all. No big thing.”

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Duce saw her a coupletimes over the course of sixmonths, and he played it verycool. His initial plan at speed dat-ing had been to charge in, be pushyand fly and street, everything he fig-ured a nice, black intellectual from thesuburbs would despise, then throwup his hands in defeat to Peteand Brenda. “Hey, I tried,” hewould tell them.

Moyra though. Moyra pissedhim off. Moyra made him want torecruit Ofelia, not because the Move-ment was so wonderful that everyoneshould be Carthian, but because if he suc-ceeded, then Moyra would fail.

(The loser of their bet would wind up ad-mitting defeat in a public Elysium in front ofno fewer than a dozen other vampires. Not apretty result. If he won, Duce planned to letMoyra slide on it, in return for some less hu-miliating concession down the line. He waspretty sure he couldn’t lose, since at any point he couldjust say, “She hasn’t joined the Movement — yet.” Hecouldn’t figure why Moyra had let him leave the betwide open, no time limit. Maybe she’d been carelessbecause of greed and anger. Or maybe she just wasn’tthat bright.)

Moyra made him go the distance, so Duce was thereafter Ofelia’s first kill, there to wipe her tears anddump quicklime on the body. Duce was there thefirst night she had to run away from her family,and as she had to draw further away from them.He didn’t say much, but he did a lot, and most ofall, he was there.

They were driving up to the northern suburbs whenDuce deemed the time right for his next escalation.He was doing her one more meaningful favor.

“I really appreciate this,” she said.“No big thing.”“It is. It is, really.”“It only looks that way to you. I’ve got all kinds of

people in my corner, this was nothing.”There was a pause, and he was about to change the

subject when she spoke again.“What if it goes wrong though? I mean, these aren’t

— ordinary mortals.”

“Nothing’s going to go wrong.”“If they find out what we really are . . . ”

“They won’t find out. Who’d suspect?” Hegrinned and straightened the black-and-white

priest’s collar around his neck. Ofelia shifted, uncom-fortable in her nun’s wimple.

“What if they ask me a question about religion?” shesaid. “I’m an — I was an Episcopalian. I don’t know any-thing about this Catholic mumbo-jumbo.”

“One, anyone who asks a nun a question about re-ligion isn’t going to know the difference if you givehim some vague line of jive. Two, anyone who doesknow enough about religion to recognize bullshit isn’tgoing to feel any need to get answers from a nun.And three,” he said, raising a finger as she openedher mouth to argue, “I specifically asked Pete to getyou the habit used by the Sisters of Saint Perpetua,

who all take a vow of silence.

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“Oh.”“You all right with letting me do the talking?”“I guess I have to be.”They drove another mile before Ofelia said, “I don’t

know why Moyra asked me to do this.”“Probably hoping you screw it up.”“What?”“You yourself said this isn’t your bag, you don’t have

the skills. She probably wants you to touch thefence and get the shock.”

“Moyra wouldn’t . . . ” Ofeliarealized what she wasabout to say, anddidn’t. “Why wouldshe do that?”

“You want myguess? It’s so shecan rescue you anddrag you in front ofthe Prince for disci-pline. She won’t suggestthat, of course. She’ll fight it,to make some Invictus patsythink she’s afraid of it, sohe’ll push for it and she’llcave in and you’ll spendan evening with PrinceMaxwell Clarke.”

“But why would she want that?”“Oh, maybe because you’re the Prince’s dream girl.”“Get off,” she said, looking out the window.

“Ofelia, it’s only, uh, hidden if you don’tknow the Prince. Moyra told you what, thatshe Embraced you for your brains? Your

shiny doctorate in bio-whatever?”“Something like that.”“It’s even true, as far as it goes, but

only because Prince Maxwell is bentfor the smart ones. ‘Ladies of accom-plishment,’ he calls ’em. Look at

Persephone, he was so taken hebrought her into the fold.”“Who’s Persephone?”

“The bitchy, white-girl vampire,young, dresses like Vogue?”“You’ll have to narrow it down,”

Ofelia said, then shook her head. “No,forget it. This is just too — too much.

Maxwell is supposed to fall in love with me? A200-year-old vampire?”

“I don’t think it’s the greatest plan in the world,but look at the women that the Prince sends outfor. Classical musicians, college instructors, archi-tects — hell, he sent Garret way out to the suburbsto reel in some woman after he read something she

wrote in Poetry magazine.”Duce let it sink in.

No rush. Still 15 min-utes from their des-tination, in traffic.

“So what’s sup-posed to happenthen?” Ofelia asked.

“Who knows?Prince Maxwell has

done some, y’know, ill-advised things. Embracing

Persephone, there’s Exhibit A onhow he loses his head over a smart gal

of a certain age.”When they had 10 minutes left, he added,

“Plus, you know, there’s the matter of race.”“Moyra may be ruthless, but please give her

credit for some brains,” Ofelia snapped. “Youreally think she’s stupid enough to think this

Prince and I will getalongbecause weäre black?

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“There’s a difference between stupid and ignorant,”Duce said. “I don’t know Moyra like you do, but I getthe sense that her knowledge of black culture prettymuch ended with that darky chef on the Cream of Wheatbox. Know what I mean?”

Ofelia laughed, but it was a little bit bitter. Duce waspleased. As he pulled in, he thought about leaving wellenough alone, but he couldn’t resist one last twist ofthe knife.

“The Circle’s got a lot on the ball, sure,”he said. “But no one’s ever ac-

cused ’em of being sen-sitive.”

•••Two months af-

ter that, he was ready to sealthe deal. He was keeping her comfort-

able, telling her all the consoling stuff, but onlyabout a third of his attention was on what he

was saying. An equal amount was pattinghimself on the back over, really, how

easy she’d been. The remainderwas reveling in what he

might ask Moyra to do, how magnanimous he’d be, whata good sport —

“Duce, are you even listening to me?”“The Carthians are all about feedback,” he said auto-

matically, then looked into her eyes and said, “Ofelia,relax. Yeah, the Circle isn’t going to be happy you left,but they know better than to make a big hissy fit over it.That just draws attention to their inability to keep theirpeople happy, makes more new recruits think about find-ing the closest U-Haul depot. It just makes anyone who’sgot New Age leanings anywhere else decide the Circleisn’t cool enough to join, awright?”

“I want to be safe.”“And I’ve promised you that you will be. Look, John,

here’s a badass,” he said, lowering his voice. “I’ve seenhim tear a Daeva legbreaker to pieces like a fat maneating a roast chicken. As for Lucinda, you don’t evenwant to know what she’s got up her sleeve,” Duce said,thinking that it wasn’t much because the Carthians werereally, truly confident that the Acolytes would writeOfelia off. Maybe with some bitchy comments and vi-cious gestures, but, at the end of the night, it was nocakewalk to keep a vampire in a political party by force.Especially if the vampire was supposed to be good for

anything after being compelled.“You think I’m over reacting Duce, but I’mnot. The Acolytes . . . ”

“The Acolytes are a clique of mini-cultsso politically fragmented they can’t evenset a coherent meeting time. Trust me,they’re not going to take on a covenantthat was, until fairly recently, running thewhole damn town.”

“You don’t know how strong theCircle is,” she whispered, looking out

his window into rainy darkness.“But I know how strong our

chains are,” he said, takingher hands. He had time

to congratulatehimself on a

good line

When he heardthe door open

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Both Duce and Lucinda swiveled their heads to-wards the noise. John was too slow, which meantthat he only got partially strobed by a sudden, bril-liant light.

“Shit!” Lucinda cried as, a second later, the soundhit them. Just a single sharp bang, a firecracker prob-ably, but enough to disorient even humansenses. For creatures with eyes and ears of farsuperior sensitivity, it was devastating, ifonly for a moment. A moment was allthey needed.

Duce released Ofelia to draw a knifeout of his coat pocket. Looking back onit, he would realize that was his big mis-take. But it was his instinct to let go, tobe free to move, to not encumber himselfwith another.

“Ofelia!” Duce had time to see Moyra fade in andgrab her childe, he had time to reach for her beforethey disappeared. They slid from his sight, like whena fly is buzzing around the room, and, despite fo-cused attention, the eye loses track when the flywanders in front of a dark surface. He looked andlooked but couldn’t get his sight on them. Johnlunged to close the door even as Duce heard thesusurrus of rain increase, felt a draft from the win-dow that had been closed and then they were gone.

•••“Will you see me?” Ofelia asked. The phone con-

nection was bad, there was crackling and static, buteven over that Duce could hear something brokenin her words.

“Of course, shit, are you all right?”“Meet me at the Tower, okay? Nine-thirty?”“Sure, baby, whatever you say,” Duce replied, but

he was uneasy. The Sears Tower wasn’t friendly,wasn’t right, and the Kindred stayed away. Probablywhy she picked it.

When he first saw her, he didn’t recognize her.Her posture was different. Now she was slumped,and at first he thought she was some homeless, un-til a cab passed and he saw the silhouette of highheels and a knee-length skirt.

“Hey,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder,turning her so he could hug her. Then he stopped.

There were spiders in her eyes. Tiny whiteones, in the iris. When she blinked, theychanged position.

“They put them there,” she whispered. “They seewhat I see. Moyra said . . . ” She swallowed hard asredness welled up in her eyes, around the brownand the unholy white. “She said, ‘See if they wantyou now. See if they’ll clasp a spy to them. She ifthey’re still welcoming, now that you’re worthlessto everyone else.’”

“Shh, it’s okay now.”“She said, ‘See if they want you now that

you’re claimed.’”“Hush. We do.” His dead skin crawled as he pulled

her close, but he hugged her anyway. He didn’t knowhow the Movement could bring her in, how shecould take part when everything they said wentstraight to Moyra, but he didn’t care about that.Ofelia wasn’t a trophy any more. She was someonewho needed the Carthians the way he once had,the way they all once had, and he didn’t care aboutwinning — for the first time, he cared about her.

áweäll make this work,à he said.áSomehow.à

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By Ray Fawkes, Matthew McFarland, Ian Price, and Greg StolzeVampire® created by Mark Rein•Hagen

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© 2006 White Wolf Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved. Re-production without the written permission of the publisher isexpressly forbidden, except for the purposes of reviews, and forblank character sheets, which may be reproduced for personaluse only. White Wolf, Vampire and World of Darkness areregistered trademarks of White Wolf Publishing, Inc. All rightsreserved. Vampire the Requiem, Werewolf the Forsaken,Storytelling System and Carthians are trademarks of WhiteWolf Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved. All characters, names,

places and text herein are copyrighted by White Wolf Publishing, Inc.The mention of or reference to any company or product in these pages is not a challenge to

the trademark or copyright concerned.This book uses the supernatural for settings, characters and themes. All mystical and super-

natural elements are fiction and intended for entertainment purposes only. This book containsmature content. Reader discretion is advised.

Check out White Wolf online athttp://www.white-wolf.com/

PRINTED IN CHINA.

CreditsAuthors: Ray Fawkes, Matthew McFarland, IanPrice, and Greg StolzeVampire and the World of Darkness created by MarkRein•HagenDevelopers: Justin Achilli and Will HindmarchEditor: Scribendi.comArt Director: Pauline BenneyLayout & Typesetting: Pauline BenneyInterior Art: Carrion Antoine, Cyril Van DerHaegen, Matt Hughes, Travis Ingram, TomaszJedruszek, Roberto Marchsi, Raven Mimura, Jean-Sebastien Rossbach, Cathy WilkinsFront Cover Art: David SeeleyFront & Back Cover Design: Pauline Benney

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PRELUDE: SOMEHOWINTRODUCTION

CHAPTER ONE:A HISTORY OF THE CARTHIAN MOVEMENT

CHAPTER TWO:UNLIFE IN THE CARTHIAN MOVEMENT

CHAPTER THREE:CARTHIAN MOVEMENT AND THE DANSE MACABRE

CHAPTER FOUR:FACTIONS AND BLOODLINES

CHAPTER FIVE:RULES AND SYSTEMS

APPENDIX:ALLIES AND ANTAGONISTS

Table of Contents

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carthians

intr

oduc

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Authority is never without hate.

—Samuel Butler

INTRODUCTIONModern civilization has bred a race with brains like those of rabbits and we who are the heirs of the witch-

doctor and the voodoo. We artists who have been so long the despised are about to take over control.

— Ezra Pound

When we created the covenants for Vampire:The Requiem, we deliberately constructed the ne-ologism “Carthian” to seem to suggest something— we wanted the word to have a weight of its own,to imply an identity not bound in Latin roots oroutside philosophy. “Carthian” sounds a little bitlike “McCarthy,” which carries undertones ofAmerican political paranoia. “Carthian” alsosounds a little bit like “Carthage,” conjuring im-agery of the progressive, Classical world (even ifCarthage itself was none too progressive). The His-tory chapter of this book presents a linguistic takeon the origin of the word. In all, the word has justas many possible origins as the number of philoso-phies the covenant itself includes.

That’s the thing. The Carthians are not disorga-nized: they are diversified. The Carthian Move-ment, as a covenant, includes many different po-litical activists and philosophers, but these dispar-ate factions are not necessarily incapable of work-ing together or organizing. The central belief of theCarthian Movement, the idea that is common tothe majority of Carthian factions, domains andmembers (even though this is not an idea that uni-fies them) is this: Kindred social systems shouldmodernize to include broader bases of power.

We know what it says in Vampire: The Re-quiem, but the Carthians aren’t all democratic.They may not even be predominantly democratic(there has been no successful survey of all Carthiandomains, and no one really wants to do one any-way). We’re expanding our concept of theCarthians with this book.

The Carthians are not anarchists, and they arenot always revolutionaries, at least insofar as revo-lution implies sudden, often forceful change. TheCarthians are orderly. The Carthians love orders

and systems. They believe in systems of govern-ments rather than individuals of power. Carthianssalute the office, for example, while the other cov-enants salute individual Kindred. Carthians re-spect titles, they defer to them, whereas the lessprogressive institutions of Kindred society histori-cally grant titles to the individuals they want tohave power.

What the hell does that mean? For democraticCarthians, this means that power should be spreadthroughout the voting masses and their representa-tives. For communist Carthians, this means thesmaller, more manageable populations of Kindredshould exist as equals. For bureaucratic or corporateCarthians, this might mean rule by hire and fire. Forfascist Carthians, this might mean strict authorityheld by a rotating dictatorial council. Some ideascome straight from mortal philosophers, some comefrom weird Damned mutations of mortal systems andsome are politics that only a secret state of predatorymonsters would strive to put into action.

A Grand ExperimentRemember that the Carthian Movement is an ex-

periment, and Carthian Kindred know it. Carthiansmay not care whether or not another city adoptstheir ways, but they want to see whether their wayswill work. They want to succeed themselves morethan they want others to fail.

This experimental nature is part of what gives theCarthians their diversity. This means that, whereother covenant books might talk about traditionand custom and the majority, this book talks aboutpermutations, philosophies and some of the remark-able, newsworthy extremists who are succeeding,failing or just striving desperately outside of popu-lar methods and opinion.

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Here are some other things to think about: thetraditional power hierarchy thinks in terms of De-mesnes, of lands and territories that are extensionsof their masters. Carthians often turn these ideason their ear, seeing territories as states within thecity, owned by all Kindred but regulated by the au-thorities. Some Carthians think of local rights interms of citizenship — a vampire is Kindred (a citi-zen) only in the city where he was Embraced. Hehas no vote, no authority and no claim to territoryin another domain.

Carthian ConceptsA few core concepts define the Carthians as a

setting entity. They’re not just “the young ones”or “the rebels,” as described above, but they’renot characterized by what they’re not. What arethe Carthians?

• The Carthians are modern. Although theseeds of the Carthian Movement may go back tothe likes of Martin Luther and the French Revo-lution, the Carthian Movement’s distinct historybegins in the 1800s with the radical thinkers wholed to (or created outright) the likes of Marxism,Stalinism, modern capitalism and so forth. Theold nights of the Carthians were bohemian, withcafes and absinthe and art nouveau and the genu-ine Black Hand and all that. The Carthian Move-ment makes its big rise not with the founding ofAmerica but with the shattering of Europe in theGreat War. The Carthians picked up a lot ofpieces, climbed up on rubble and rushed in to fillvacuums formed by destroyed and torpid Invictusand other Kindred. Certainly, the Carthians lookback on the likes of Jefferson and Franklin forinspiration, but those people weren’t vampires,weren’t manipulated by vampires and weren’t theinitial inspiration for the Carthians. The philo-sophical crucible of industrialized Europe and amillion sudden, tragic opportunities made the gar-dens where the Carthian seed bore fruit. This no-tion of modernism spreads into Carthian art andstyle, as well.

• The Carthians explore mortal ideas. TheCarthians adopt human social and philosophicalconstructs into Kindred society. Other covenantscertainly do it, too, but the Carthians actively doit. They strive to do it well, to select the finest inforward thought and create a society better thanthat which mortals can hope for. Some Carthianslook at this through the lens of reason: vampires

13carthiansintroduction

have fewer needs, fewer variables and undergofewer changes over time, so creating a strong andexcellent society of monsters that could never sur-vive with withering, less predictable mortalsshould be possible. Other Carthians look at thisthrough the lens of passion: vampires are supe-rior to mortals, and Kindred should strive to proveit. The Kindred see the ages go by, learn frommortal mistakes in ways that mortals never canand influence human existence in a way thatmortals don’t reciprocate. Namely, the Kindredget to choose their trends in ways that normalpeople don’t, because vampires participate inmortal society through voluntary action ratherthan necessity.

In practice, this means that Carthians tend tofeel more like archetypal neonates, even whenthe Carthians are older. Carthians may not keepup with mortal trends, but they don’t really thinkof themselves as being too good for mortal ways.As mortal society moves forward, the Carthiansfollow behind it like cultural buzzards, feeding offthe herd.

Indeed, the Carthians use technology.Carthians use CDs, MP3 recordings of their ownvoices and desktop publishing to get things done.Storytellers and eager players, be careful with this.Carthians might have meetings over the phone,but that keeps characters apart (which is bad forroleplaying). Likewise, the Carthians are big be-lievers in the Masquerade, because that veil be-tween them and humanity is part of what makesthem able to perform their social experiment —they don’t have to worry about including anyonethey don’t want.

• The Carthian Movement is secular. Thegreat experiment of the Carthians is politicaland secular, but not all Carthians are. You’llsee that the Carthian Movement isn’t inher-ently opposed to the Lancea Sanctum or theCircle of the Crone. The Carthian Movementmight pair with either covenant in some do-mains. It’s possible that this same secular atti-tude could pair the Carthians against the Sanc-tified or the Acolytes in a domain that’s un-dergoing a holy war.

What’s important to remember here, though, isthat a Carthian vampire is seldom just a Carthian.It’s not as if he dwells in the Carthian Castle onMount Marx in Democracyville. Carthians attendSanctified masses and Crone ceremonies; they visit

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