Mind's Eye Theatre - Vampire The Requiem.pdf - RoseRed

dred institution, especially owing to the fact that most coteries are cosmopolitan with regard to
members’ origins. In fact, almost every coterie ever formed is temporary; even if it lasts decades,
it eventually falls apart. The more time that passes, the more opportunities for advancement by
betrayal come up, and some member is almost certain to succumb to temptation eventually. Even
on the off chance that nobody leaves or turns against the group, Kindred tend to grow increasingly
paranoid as they age. Considering the sort of society in which they “grow up,” this reaction isn’t
unreasonable. What it means, however, is that most vampires beyond a certain age aren’t willing
to trust their former coterie-mates, even if nobody has engaged in any direct treachery. Those
coteries that don’t tear apart due to dishonesty or ambition inevitably separate out of mistrust
that someone will turn traitor.
Exceptions exist, of course. Some elders still operate in, or at least maintain contact with,
their former coteries, if only to maintain longstanding networks of contacts, allies and the
like. These long-lasting groups are rare, though. For the most part, elders continue to mistrust
the notion of coteries — even those who, in their youth, were members of one — and, by
extension, they often mistrust those fl edglings who form them. In fact, though few admit it,
many elders fear the spread of the coterie phenomenon, concerned that it will provide future
rivals with a base of power they themselves cannot exploit.
DEAD CULTURES
The society of the Damned is a mysterious and alien thing. After all, Kindred nature — the
innate paranoia, distrust and animosity that vampires often hold toward one another, to say
nothing of their constant squabbles over hunting territory — would seem to suggest that they
were intended to be lone hunters.
Some believe that Kindred society exists now as it has for thousands of years. Legend has
it that vampires once ruled as kings and that their feudal domains have simply passed down
through the centuries. Of course, no vampire who walks the Earth tonight, or at least none
known, can truly recall the details of events so long past. The memories of those Kindred
who have slept away the decades grow uncertain. Dreams intrude on reality, and none of
them can truly know what was from what they simply believe to remember.
Some Kindred, particularly among the neonates, believe their society is a more recent
development, at least in historical terms. They maintain that only in the modern era, when
hiding from the kine has truly become diffi cult thanks to rapid communication and other
technological advancement, has Kindred isolation from humankind become complete. Only
now, they claim, has the need for a separate society developed.
The primary purpose of Kindred society, Kindred philosophers believe, is regulation. Kindred
gather not merely in physical proximity, but socially, under a local government because
enough of them recognize the need to police their own. Were the Kindred to dwell in the
crowded cities with no overt authority, nothing would prevent the indiscrete or foolish from
waging war on one another openly, feeding indiscriminately or otherwise threatening each
other’s vitality. A fi gure known as the Prince (or whoever represents the local government)
is an enforcer, fi rst and foremost.
Beyond this, Kindred claim that their kind cleaves together socially for reasons far more
personal and ingrained than the need to protect themselves from each other. Kindred society
grants its members something they could never have among mortals: a sense of belonging,
of community. Vampires might despise the greater portion of their fellows and their Prince
or governor — and a great many do — but this is nevertheless their community, their city.
Where mortals turn to family, the Kindred have clans. Where mortals form nations and
cultures, the Kindred have covenants. These social constructs allow the Kindred to feel as
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chapter one: society of the damned