by: Gavin Bennett for Sanguinus Curae
The Malkavians. They are the pranksters, the fools, and the jesters of the Camarilla. They are the criminally insane shock troops of the Sabbat. They claim that their madness lets them see the truth. They claim their madness is all connected through some strange network. But there is another story, ill-remembered, ignored by the scholars of the time of Enoch. But some know it, some watch, some remember.
It is the story of Nahema and the visionary, who was Caine's Grandchilde by Blood, and it is said, by mortal lineage.
The screams woke her. Or perhaps it was not a scream. No, she told herself, slipping bleary eyed out of the camp bed they let her have. It was not a scream.
The night was dark, fittingly so, dead, windless and dank. The asylum was quiet, for once, but it was not an easy silence.
The mad lay down, and dreamed their dark dreams, and she felt she could sense their quiet watchfulness. She bundled her knees to her chin, perched on the window, looking out into the bleak sickness of the night. This would be over soon, she told herself. Soon.
She was an intern, a trainee, a psych student. They had her on the night shift this week.
She had always been fascinated by the insides of people's heads. Ever since her own bout with anorexia when she was 14, the idea of having such insight, and yes, control over people's lives and sanity appealed to her. Watching the cool demeanor and calm power of the psychiatrist, she had chosen her path in life then.
It was over sooner than she thought. That night, well before dawn, in the stillness, the terrible moment of emptiness when you realize that you cannot sleep, that sunrise is so far away, they came. Three of them, well dressed young men, with serious, intelligent faces, but whose eyes gleamed a dim red in their icy pale faces.
"Where is he?" they said, and when they had found who they were looking for, they took her away, made her their own.
It's raining in Montreal. Thick, rancid rain clouds cluster heavily over the city, their fat bellies burned red by the city's glow. The autumnal night was unseasonably warm. The air feels oily and no wind blows.
The dreams had kept her awake all day. Awful, twisted dreams of names and faces and realities beyond comprehension.
Samantha Morris, of Clan Tremere stood in front of the asylum where she used to work, five years later, alone. Her coat whipped in the late fall winds.
"I know you are here," she said, and waited.
She did not have to wait long.
"Welcome back," said the voice. As she watched, the shadows lengthened and then…. He was there. "They failed to kill you, that night," she said, calmly, coolly.
"Yes," they would have been hard pressed to do so.
"The Tremere know what you are doing, they know they didn't destroy you before."
"Of course, I would be the last to underestimate them. So. Why did you come here?"
"You were preparing me, weren't you?"
"Yes, yes, I was."
"Come with me, and I will reveal much to you."
He held out his hand and she followed him.
"I will now tell you a story, a recital from something we translated from chthonic Aramaic" he sat down on the office chair, looked at her with his dark eyes, smiling gently. He cleared his throat, and began to speak.
"He was a magician, of sorts, a tall, beautiful boy with exquisite skin and pale, pale eyes. He arrived at the great city in the days before the Flood, when all around was darkening, and the skies were angry.
"Who are you?" they asked.
"I am of the Lilin," the boy replied. And those who listened, feared. The people of the City had fought against such, and believed that they had killed them all, but no, here was one more of them. They took him to the seat of Irad, who spoke with him using magic.
"You are of the Lilin," Irad said, "We killed you all. How is it that you live?"
"You did not kill all of us, or even a grave proportion. You fought those soul drinkers who dwell yet on earth; many more dwell in the Fires Below. But Our Mother had many children, of which I am but of one tribe."
"How many tribes are there?"
"No one knows," the boy replied. "There are the Wild Ones, there are the soul drinkers, and the seducers, many, and I will not reveal their true names to you."
"Why did you come here," Irad asked.
"To tell you that the Lord of Hosts grows weary of this damned city. Blasphemies dwell here, those that you know of, and those that you do not. He will send his angels and floods to root you out and destroy you all."
"How is this revealed unto you?"
"I see visions," the boy replied. Irad, greedy for the boy's wisdom and perhaps the boy's flesh, allowed him to live, and allowed him to stay.
That night, his kinswoman came to him and lay with him.
He stayed in Irad's court for three days, in which times he showed Irad that he had magic, and could control the lightning, the fire, and other things. He revealed many other visions.
And each night, his kinswoman lay with him.
In time, the boy was given the Blood. But he was able to walk by day, and his heart still beat in his breast, and he could still work his magics, and his visions still came. And Irad despaired since he knew he had merely given power to the boy, not the Curse. He could not control him. He walked abroad even in the light of noon.
"What are you?" Irad said unto him.
"I am Malkav," the boy merely replied, and laughed. "I am the harbinger, that is all."
Irad fought with Malkav, but while Irad was stronger, Malkav was wiser, and faster, and he had magics that Irad did not.
And Malkav slew Irad, and drank a little of his blood, so that he could know Irad's secrets. The visions that he dreamt there were powerful, and it was many days before he woke. When he did, he was in a great hall, and there were 20 others there.
"Join us," they said, "for you slew the last of our Elders."
And so the first of us was made.
"I don't get it," she said.
"What do you not understand?"
"What the hell is a Lilin? Why is there no mention of the curse?"
"Well, the kinswoman mentioned was Malkav's twin sister; that is what I believe. Lilin, those of that blood are born either twins or only children. Either they ensure they are alone, or they ensure that they have another. Lilin babies, even in the womb, ensure they have the attention they need. Her name is Nahema."
"That's in one of the Kaballistic texts. The Nahemoth, the demons of madness and vision."
"Correct. We are bound to them with old, old bonds. Don't you see?"
"So, why are you mad?"
"Because, we are all, like our Founder, visionaries. More so than the Salubri, or the Tremere, we see the real truth of things. We know where magic comes from; it burns in our veins, in our minds. But I digress. Lilith had many children; the term is the Lilim, and the children of Caine warred with them in that ancient time, before the Flood. She had many, many children; she is the mother of many, many races. But closest to her are the Lilin, they are dark bloodlines that exist in the human genepool, impossible to suppress, who are born to a birthright of magic and beauty and darkness. Our founder was one such; thus when Embraced, he could still walk in the sunlight, still use his magics. He was the greatest of them all. And we all hear the whispers of his twin, his lover; we all have his gift of visions. The Nahemoth speak to us, whisper to us in our dreams. Their whispers bind us all."
"How do you know these things?"
"Study, my dear girl. Magicians like ourselves should always make a lifetime's study. When everything else is gone; humanity, soul, sanity, the learning should remain. When I was embraced, I vowed I would study madness, and that led me to study my clan's madness. That led me to the Book of Nod."
"But the Book of Nod says Malkav's twin sister was Arikel, of the Toreador."
"Precisely."
"But…"
"There are things which should not be given the Blood, and the Children of Lilith are such. Other texts hint that three of them were Embraced by the second generation. Malkav, his Sister, and one other. I have no true idea who, although I do fancy it to be Saulot. He is, after all, the progenitor of the Baali." "Yes, I was about to say that."
"How many Hells are there?"
"A very great many. At the beginning of all things, the Light of Heaven falling on the new Creation formed a deep, endless shadow that stretched through the void. And in that shadow, things were born to the darkness. Some say that these things were formed by the shattering of the lower spheres of God's existence, others that they were the rank shadow made flesh. Others say that the shadow itself, and those that dwelled there were god's creation. Or perhaps that they were older than God. To know such truths invites madness. But we already are mad, but we keep our knowledge to ourselves, child. "The Madness Network?"
"Oh yes…."
"But what is it?"
"What do you think it is? Madness is hardly enlightenment, its mental illness. But it is a side effect of enlightenment. We have secrets, and we share them, and by sharing them, bind us ever closer to the madness. But we digress here, I fear."
"Hell," she said.
"Yes, hell. There are perhaps three levels of creation. There is Heaven, there is Hell and there is all between, creation itself. Creation is the jewel let loose by God, the prize thrown into the ring, his pretty little bauble, and all those pretty little souls, God's oldest mistakes. Noah tricked God. Noah tricked him, with his magic, and his wiles. Magic is forbidden, by God. But that makes its use so sweet. You know, don't you, you know…."?
She nodded, unspeaking.
He laughed then.
"I revealed a secret of the Malkavians didn't I? Yes, Ut-napishtim is still alive, and his wife, somewhere, out in the realms. Accursed Mages." He laughed then, genuinely amused. "So you see, we know things." "It's all just Myth, you know, I study this shit because it amuses me, I believe in science, I believe in Magic, and I believe in Hell, what else do you need to believe in?"
"A fan of Graham Greene, perhaps?"
"Perhaps."
"What's more, let me see; when you worked here you used to be so attracted to one of your patients. She was so beautiful wasn't she, and her eyes, her eyes felt like they were drilling into your head, but she knew such things. Made you hot, made you sleepless…"
"How do you know this?"
"As you say, the Madness Network."
"What is that?"
"Come with me."
He turned away, walked down the hall towards the basement.
"But there is no basement," she heard herself whisper.
"Oh, but there is. I have ruled this place for a long, long time. I have allowed you to see what I want you to."
She said nothing, followed behind him as he opened the door, that led down into the darkness.
"This place was built, a Bedlam, in 1765. This is where they took away their mad, locked them away. Down here."
There were strange howls, moans, voices, in the darkness. Her sight, her preternatural vampiric sight could only see mere flickers of things, of the damp steps, of the vile walls. He gestured, and the hall illuminated, in flame.
There were cells down here, many of them. Hands reached out to her.
"This place is close to hell," he said. "It is consecrated to the Nahemoth, and their Queen, the sister-lover of our Clan Founder."
Of all the Clans, the Malkavian is perhaps the least understood. Considered pranksters, or uselessly insane, they are ill-represented, and ignored.
The Malkavians are not funny.
Some say they are the Vampiric manifestation of the Wyld, or perhaps close to the Marauder Mages. They are not. They have a dark history and a terrible future, and the darkest of roles to play in the forthcoming Gehenna.
The Clan founder of the Malkavians was not human. He was something called a Lilin, descended from the Dark Mother, Lilith. They were one of the first races on the earth, the beautiful ones, who dwelled close to the early mortals, using them for their own ends. The people of Enoch made war upon them, desiring dominance over the Sons of Man. Much of the tales of those times are lost. But the Beautiful Ones walked with devils and evil spirits, and used magic, forbidden by God. Like the children of Caine, the Lilin were deathless, but they were mere flesh. Their blood burned with strange and terrible energy, and although the Children of Caine were strong, and had dark powers themselves, the Lilin fought them to a standstill.
Indeed, the Children of Caine in those days were still said to be under God's Ban, and the Angels did not interfere against them. The Angels instead continued their war against the Children of Lilith and the Fallen Ones.
One on occasion, so the stories say, some of the Lilin, young ones, barely out of childhood came to the city of Enoch. There were the twins, who some called Arikel and Malkav, and one other. The elders of the Second Generation desired them, and gave them gifts, so they could possess them, and their secrets. They were given the Embrace. But the Embrace did not curse them; it made them powerful beyond dreams. It is said that these led the Third Generation to war against the Elders of the Second Generation. The truth is unknown. It is said that the third was to become Troile, the first of the Brujah, while others claim that this was Saulot. The real truth is unknown, but this the Bahari know, and this too, the Malkavians remember.
Some say Malkav was cursed by God for this action, or by Caine. The truth is unknown, but what is known is this. His sister, (who sources name as either Nahema or Arikel) descended into Hell and drew the Fallen to her, and became a Queen there. She is named in several commonly available occultic texts. Nahema is named in certain texts held in secret in the Tremere libraries as being the Anti-Muse, or the Dark Muse, the demon queen of madness. She is one of the patrons of psychopaths, serial killers and torturers.
If such can be believed, then we must at least consider the fact that this person, this thing, was the Founder of the Toreador clan.
Sources indicate that the trio of Lilin revealed certain powers unto the Cainites, the most obvious of which was Magic itself. No, Thaumaturgy was not the creation of the Tremere, and it is well known that Clans such as the Brujah, the Tzimisce, the Toreador, the Followers of Set, the Lasombra, the Baali and the Ravnos all used the Blood Magic. The Tremere are the foremost practitioners of Blood Magic in our age, but there were practitioners before. The combination of magic and their dark gifts swung the tides against the god-like Second Generation.
And in the Darkness, the demons of dark creativity waited for their brethren on Earth.
There is one reason the earth prevails yet, some scholars say, and that is because the demonic forces of the Infernal Darkness have yet to re-align themselves. Once they do, once their quarrels and intrigues and conflicts are resolved, then they will turn their faces to the Earth again, and move to claim their prize.
Together, they outnumber the Hosts of Heaven, and all those on earth who could or would oppose them.
And when they kill all the Angels, and all those who would oppose them, they will re-ascend to Heaven, and offer up the charnel house remnants of Creation to God as an act of worship, and they will take their thrones as God's new angels.
These new thrones, this new Heaven, this new Jerusalem will be made of human bones, and lit with the fires of their souls.
And things will be the way it used to be, in the beginning, before the Sons of Clay stole God's love and His attention.
God is a senile father, they know, but they desire His love, nonetheless.
This is not some "madness space." The Network is simply a discipline that the Malkavians have access to, on occasion. It is a function of Auspex, where they communicate with one another – and their brethren in the Shadows Below. It is not an active discipline, but rather a passive ability. It is not a hive mind, or a psychic connection, but rather an ongoing conversation between the Malkavians themselves, with themselves, with their patrons, with their Clan Founder, and with the Nahemoth. But it has wider implications, big events can be known across the earth in hours, as the information is passed along this strange, tenebrous connection between Earth and Hell. However, this "Network" is maintained by sacred places, sacred that is, to the Nahemoth and the Malkavians; asylums, crack houses, slumlands, and places where mind warping horrors have manifested themselves. A Mage would call such places very low level nodes, causing little more than headaches and bad dreams for outsiders. For Wraiths however, they have a deeper meaning. These places literally draw the restless dead to them, especially those who died insane. They fester with sick energy. The Malkavians call these places "shrines." It is their place of benediction to their brothers in Hell.
As mentioned above, the Shrines are places where madness looms close. They are places where atrocities against sanity have occurred. They are places where the mad gather. They are places where Infernal forces have manifested, leaving a taint of wrongness for centuries to come. The Malkavians of the Path consider them to be Sacred Places. They are places where the Inferno comes close. You may recognise the idea as being similar to that of Caerns or Freeholds or Nodes. They are not sources of Vis to Magi. They are not suitable as Caerns or Freeholds. The magic that bubbles out from these places is not suitable for the living. Mage either cannot find enough Vis to use, or are corrupted and driven insane by it. Garou and Changelings stay away, but the dead, especially those drawn to madness, love such places.
Like nodes and similar places, they generate power as per their level, one via five. Use similar rules from Mage or Wraith or Changeling. The power they give is the equivalent in Blood Points.
Potential Sites: Asylums, Haunted Houses, Torture Chambers, Suicide's bedsits, places of demonic manifestation.
Also See: The Path of the Nahemoth (Path of Enlightenment)
If the legends are to be believed, the Malkavians revealed the secrets of the Forbidden Art unto their fellow Cainites. Later legends show the Cainites defeating Mages in open warfare, so it is tempting to assume that the early 'Thaumaturgy' the Cainites used was stronger than that of the Mages themselves. But one thing is certain; if the use of Magic by the Mages, mere mortals, is forbidden, then its use by the Cainites is doubly damned. As argued by various magical scholars amongst the Cainites, not least the Baali or the followers of the Path of Evil Revelations, then the so-called 'Demonic' or 'Dark' Thaumaturgy is in fact the true root of Thaumaturgy. Vampiric Sorcery could be described as infernal by its very nature. Worse still, the magics revealed to the Cainites were the secrets of the Lilin, who in these later days accomplished Black Magicians. The Wardens of the Path know the secret, but they are not telling. However, rumours rife on the 'Madness Network' say that the origins of Cainite sorcery is indeed a gift from the Lilin. Or, perhaps, the Nahemoth.
The Tremere and other modern day practitioners scoff at such accusations. However, rumours persist of a huge magical investigation being conducted by the Tremere Antitribu of the Sabbat in the nights before they were destroyed. What conclusions they reached and what they were studying is unclear, however.
One thing is clear. The Malkavians on the Path have their own areas of Thaumaturgical study and expertise. The Malkavian magicians use many of the forms, spells and rituals familiar to others, but there are some crucial differences. The most obvious is that they can use the spiritual energy from their Shrines as a Mage would a node, essentially giving the Vampiric magician an extra blood pool.
There is not enough space here to reprint the rules from Mage on the Quintessence that can be drawn from a Node. Use Mage: The Ascension to find these rules. The Malkavian shrines to madness work in the same manner. The shrines have several purposes.
It allows the magician to draw upon darker energy to work her magic. (Essentially, this means the Magician has access to a Blood Pool as large as the Quintessence available at the Node)
It allows Wraiths to use the area as a Haunt.
It allows the Nahemoth to manifest, and cross the 'Gauntlet.'
It allows the magician to, using a certain ritual, to cross the Gauntlet back, into the Dark Umbra or the Inferno itself.
NB: These abilities are only available to the Malkavian magician, Wraiths who have some connection to insanity or madness, or the Nahemoth themselves.
The Malkavians can take Thaumaturgy as a Clan Discipline, without modifier, if they are on the Path of the Nahemoth. However, this Thaumaturgy is automatically Dark Thaumaturgy with all the problems that can entail (See the Guide to the Sabbat).
Also See: Path of Madness (Dark Thaumaturgy Path)
Also See: Discipline Expansions for Malkavians
Adam's first wife, Lilith, when exiled from the Garden of Eden wandered lonely and heartbroken in the Wastelands. She had been cast out by Her Creator, and separated from her husband. Despite everything, perhaps, she still loved Adam.
It was in this depression she found Samael, the Lightbringer Angel. He too was Fallen. They, tentatively, began a relationship. She gave him her flesh and her love, and he gave her knowledge. At least that is how some see it. Others say he raped her, and she stole magic from him in revenge. But no matter. The relationship ended. Lilith was pregnant, and she had learned of the powers of the angels.
Some time later, God sent the Angels Senoy, Sansenoy and Semaneloff to subdue her and drag her back to servitude in the Garden. Her children claim they raped and abused her, and put magics upon her so that if any were to carve the names of said angels on an Amulet and hold it to her or her children and shout: Out Lilith, she (and her children) would be powerless, and would have to flee. Lilith, betrayed again, bleeding and wounded, gave birth to the Angel's children.
Some time later, she met Caine, the son of Adam, wandering in the Land of Nod; she took him in, clothed him, and taught him the secrets she had gathered; from Samael, from the angels, from the demons who she had taken as her lovers, and from the Wild Ones who had sheltered her when she gave birth. Caine too betrayed her.
In time, she became the mother of many dark and demonic creatures, but those that were most like her, those that honored her were the Lilin. The Succubae and the Incubi. They in turn had children, and those children spread throughout the world, born of pain and fire, rape and betrayal, with the secret knowledge stolen by their mother rushing through their veins. In time, they came to rule huge swathes of the Earth. They preyed on the Sons of Seth as they struggled in the time after the Fall of Man. They warred with Caine's Children.
The elder Succubae and Incubi eventually offered their allegiance to Hell, or travelled away from the Earth, and Lilith went into hiding, or disappeared or died. Others say she walked the Earth, stalking the tribes of man as they spread across the Earth. The dark mother they called her, and gave her names such as Kali and Morrigan and Hel and Tiamat. But where she went, her children followed. Their blood mingled with all the races of man, so that in each human tribe; there lay the potential for the dark, beautiful, demonic and immortal Lilin to be born.
But even before the Flood, the Lilin ruled huge kingdoms, in defiance of Heaven, and in defiance of the Sons of Caine. Then three of them, grandchildren of Lilith themselves, barely children, came to Enoch to offer themselves to the dark gods who ruled there. And in their lust for the children's blood, the children's flesh, the children's beauty and the children's knowledge, they gave them the Dark Gift. And in time, the Children made the others rise up and slay the Sons of Caine.
It was a strange counterpoint. Caine's first Childer, the first to receive his Blood, were his children, the fruit of his seed. They were seduced and tricked by children of their father's lover and teacher. And they died for it. Or at least, so the stories go.
The three thus embraced had strange powers, even amongst the Dark Gods who ruled Enoch. They could walk in the sun, and enjoy the touch of mortals. It is even claimed they could eat food. The truth of which is lost to time, however. But they had insights, they had the gift of prophecy, and they had powers stolen from the Angels, and from Hell. When others, those with lore like that of Lilith's attempt to destroy the Dark Gods of Enoch, the powers they had turned the tide.
Cursed and tortured by his insights, Malkav lost his sanity, and his twin sister took to wandering again. At length, perhaps guided by her Mother, her wanderings took her to the Gates of Hell, and she passed within. She became the Demon Queen of madness, the Anti-muse, the giver of Dark Insight, the patron of the psychopathic. She was the artist of pain and suffering. She became a queen of the Succubi and Incubi, and she made them the craftsmen of her vision. She became known as Nahema, the queen of the Nahemoth. Where other Succubi and Incubi would lure mortals away from virtue and prayer, so as to possess their soul, the Nahemoth spread madness and atrocity, giving truth to their Mistresses vision. Their mad laughter could be heard, however faintly, all the way to the Walls of Hell. Nahema discovered in her wanderings many, many truths. Truths so terrible as to drive most insane. She knows of the secrets of the Lost Ones, of God's first creation. She knows of God's secrets. She knows of his dark senility. But she is not mad. She uses mental illness as a tool. She delights in the dark creativity of the torturers, the serial killers, and the broken of this world. All the better to liberate the world from the oppression of the Blind Ones, the humans who God cherished above all others.
Nahema has no desire to rule hell. She simply sees herself as one who will facilitate the birth of the Dark Messiah, who will destroy Creation. She is a manipulator behind the scenes. She is a designer of the torments of the damned. She knows that Hell is not a place of punishment; it's simply a place where the Evil gather, and act out their brutal psychoses on each other. Hell is not fair. Hell is not part of God's plan.
But perhaps it is. And that makes Nahema even more correct, more insightful.
The Nahemoth are the servants of her will.
The Nahemoth are darkly beautiful, descended as they are from Lilith, and touched with the curse of Caine. They are not Vampires, and do not need blood for sustenance. They do enjoy drinking of blood, and the consuming of souls. They are related to the Succubae, and as such are incredibly seductive. But it is not flesh and souls they want. They seek only to liberate their victims. Whether the victim can cope with such liberation is another question. They can pass as human, easily; just incredibly beautiful humans. They have an incredible amount of sheer psychic magnetism. Anyone in the area of their appearance knows they are there. They are like a black hole, drawing all into destruction.
They believe themselves to be rebels, fighting against the evils of God. Whether or not they are correct is unknown. They spread madness and psychoses wherever they go. Their realm in Hell is said to be so awful as to destroy the souls of any mortals who glimpse it.
The exact nature of the powers of the Nahemoth is deliberately left vague. It is up to the Storyteller to determine what these demons can and cannot do. Their existence is best left to the task of scaring player-characters, and, my personal favorite, committing long, lingering exquisite punishment on every rules lawyer and power junkie. The Nahema have power over souls and perception and they are older and stronger and smarter than anything on earth.
Suffice it so say, however:
A touch by a Nahemoth on a character's person can cause Rotschreck.
Looking into a Nahemoth's eyes causes hypnosis and a steady drain of Willpower.
Nahemoth can push their fingers through a character's skull, and rip out any information stored therein.
Nahemoth are said to be immune to True Faith.
A Nahemoth, when manifesting, tears a hole in the Gauntlet that never heals.
The Nahemoth have power over fire, drawing the fires of the Inferno onto Earth.
Nahemoth can touch a vampire and re-awaken their dead flesh. (This is apparently a way of transforming a Vampire into something else, something demonic.)
They are incredibly strong, and incredibly fast, and they have nasty, aggravated damage causing claws, which can be made drip with poison which is a hallucinogen which gives the victim visions of the truth….
This cannot be over-emphasized. The Malkavians of the Path do not serve the Nahemoth; they believe themselves part of the same brotherhood and bloodline, all united in their quest to liberate Creation. All Malkavians who are linked to the 'Network' are part of this conspiracy, serving the Anti-Muse whether they know it or not.
The Nahemoth look over their brethren on Earth. This does not mean that every character will find himself protected by one of Nahema's succubi, but sometimes, 'by the power of Madness' or some such similar gibberish, the Malkavian character can be saved from certain doom.
The Anti Muse, whether or not she is the Founder of the Toreador bloodline, is still Malkav's sister and lover. And while Malkav sleeps, he wanders Creation in his dreams, he calls to her. They see things, remember things. They work to destroy the Angels and work to undo God's mistakes, doing His Work for Him./p>
They believe the Cainites, especially those who can use Thaumaturgy can be instruments of this. These they will use to hasten the day of grace, when the Elders will awaken, and they will set fire to the Earth. Malkav will protect his progeny, they know, and Nahema will save only the brightest and most beautiful of hers. All others are but tools. To this end they actively seek out Toreador Poseurs and Antitribu, the Tremere and the Brujah to be instruments of their will.
The crimes committed against their Dark Mother will be avenged, and the angels violated in a hundred thousand ways, then killed, and Heaven and Earth will be remade.
There was silence in that dungeon; even the people on the walls, his test subjects, and his artistic canvases had stopped their moans.
'But that's monstrous,' she said, 'It cannot be true.'
'Oh, but it is.'
'Some vile Malkavian prank, that's what it is. A huge prank on my Clan, isn't it? The inventors of Thaumaturgy indeed. You are one sick, fucked up asshole.'
He smiled indulgently, then reached out and touched her.
And she saw. She saw as he could see. The humans... blood and offal, stretched round with such beautiful skin, the only thing they had to offer; nerve endings to play upon perhaps, their dull, dead souls so tedious, so like mud. She could feel the grease on their skin, the sweat.
'It's not a curse,' she heard herself say, 'it's a Gift. It's a benediction, making us Demons. We are demons, we Cainites, that is what we are... aren't we?'
'Oh yes,' he said, quietly, smiling.
'We are here to redeem God. Our deaths, the Ancients rising, its all to pave the way so that Heaven can be freed... it's so beautiful, I see it now, I see it! The ones from the East, they are so like us in truth. They know they are demons! We are the children of the Dark Gods!' she was high on a wave of exultation. She looked at herself, looked at her beautiful, cursed hands.
'Why did you bring me here?' she said.
'So you could see. I am here to guide you to Vision. You have taken the first step...'
'What must I do now?' she said lustfully, longingly.
'Wait,' he said.
Then she felt it, lips and fingers on her, touching her, probing her, slipping her foolish mortal clothes off, finger changing her flesh as they touched, then reaching inside her, into her soul, and she screamed.
She fell, bleeding on the floor.
'A trick... you tricked me.'
'Hardly...'
'It's all a lie. You made me believe.'
'No, no lies. Go home little one, go home. Go and look at your files. See what happened in Paris this summer. See what happened. Find out why the Mages of Paris sent so many to their deaths... to prevent a shrine to our Queen.'
She pulled on her shredded and ripped clothes then staggered, painfully, out of that place. Outside, she could see a strange glow in the sky, and the smell of the base humanity would not go away. It would not go away. Walking back through the suburbs, she saw them, the base cattle, God's mistakes. She killed a few, it made her feel better, but the smell would not go away.
'She is ours,' the demon said.
'Yes.'
'Give her a few nights, and she will bring her friends back, and we will have them.'
The two demons smiled, looking at each other across the veil of worlds, serving the same mistress, awaiting the same day of grace.