Cyclops
Soul-Thieves
Dajjals
Saulot’s Progeny

To make one’s haven in the vale of sorrows and forever tread a path of thorns.

Most of their kind lost to undead usurpers, the highly desirable Blood of the hunted Salubri is a prize to other vampires. This, and their reluctance to Embrace, makes them rare in the modern nights. They often recruit those on the edge of death, believing their curse can provide the worthy a second chance, and they count some of the most humane vampires among their ranks.

The schemes of the Kindred yield winners and losers, and each winner demands a loser to pay the price of that success. Such is the case with the Salubri, centuries ago renowned for wisdom and erudition, but now little more than a despised footnote in the schemes of the Damned. Tonight, the Salubri are arguably no longer even a clan, their progenitor, so it is told, having succumbed to the fangs of a more ambitious usurper who built his own Clan Tremere with that purloined Blood. Theirs is a legacy of tragedy but also a bitter lesson in the millenniaspanning Eternal Struggle. In their destruction, their rivals laid the guilt upon the victims, spreading tales of soul-stealing and worse truths hidden behind pious cant. As if to compound the recognition of this guilt, every Salubri bears a third eye in the center of their forehead, the indicator of their lineage.

Salubri childer are few — it is whispered that only seven ever exist at one time, but whether or not that remains true in the modern nights cannot be confirmed. According to their custom, Salubri sires Embrace only when they reach Golconda, thereby passing on their curse anew each time, but again, the current state of Kindred affairs calls this into question. Thus the choice of childer is an even more intensely personal decision for the Salubri than for other Kindred. To Salubri sires considering progeny, a potential childe must have a problem to solve; Salubri do not Embrace on whim. They may Embrace the terminally ill, those who have endured a family tragedy, or those with an unquenchable drive to right a worldly wrong.

It is believed that the progenitor of the clan, the enigmatic Saulot, was in fact the first Kindred to attain Golconda, and his lineage still attempts to walk that path centuries after his destruction. They often lead troubled unlives, weighed down by the Kindred condition but buoyed by the promise of redemption, however elusive it may seem. Undaunted, the Salubri pursue the answer to Caine’s damnation, and have even helped others find their own personal absolution.

Or have they? With the power to grant aid comes the power to harm, especially to hear the tales of soul-stealing and congress with unholy entities that swirl in the wake of Clan Salubri’s ruin. This, combined with details of the aggressive stance some Salubri take toward their fellow Kindred — hunting and destroying those they deem dangerously proximate to the Beast — have muddied the reputation of the clan to those few who know of them. But is this credible or hearsay?

Few Princes want them in their domains, because they’re usually on the outs with somebody. Anarch Barons may feel sympathy for the Salubri, but rarely to the extent that they’re willing to harbor a fugitive in their territory. Much of the Salubri lot is being hated and hunted for something their sires may or may not have done centuries ago.

The fate of the Salubri in these final nights is grim, but they face their lot with a perspective rare among the Kindred. Willing as they are to help others walk the difficult path of Golconda, many Salubri seem to actually want to “solve” the problem of being a vampire rather than indulging or evading it. Some others vow to destroy the more blatant transgressors of the Kindred condition and enlist the aid of others to pursue them, redeeming or destroying Wights, low-Humanity vampires, and those who otherwise revel in their damnation.

Much of the storied wisdom of the Salubri comes from being able to perceive beyond the ken of less observant Kindred. Considered by a philosophical mind, the hidden truths of the world reveal themselves.

The Salubri use Dominate to unburden others of the horrors of being a vampire or from witnessing the atrocities Kindred may commit. Whether erasing troubling memories or bolstering individuals against the undesired consequences of their actions, the Salubri have developed the ability to on occasion apply this Discipline as a balm.

A clan so despised needs every advantage it can to survive the modern nights, and the Salubri have also learned to will forth their own hardiness as a boon to others’ well-being.

The Salubri are hunted: Kindred of other clans are especially ... appreciative of Salubri vitae. When a non-Salubri partakes of the blood of a Cyclops, they often find it difficult to pull themselves away. Consuming enough to abate at least one Hunger level requires a Hunger Frenzy test (Vampire: The Masquerade, p. 220) at Difficulty 2 + the Salubri’s Bane Severity (difficulty 3 + the Salubri’s Bane Severity for Banu Haqim). If they fail the test, they just keep consuming, to the point that they may have to be physically fought off.

Additionally, the third eye that Saulot opened while on one of his many journeys passes down through the bloodline every time a Salubri Embraces. This third eye is not always recognizably human in origin, and rumors persist of vertical, serpentine pupils or even worm-like eyespots. While this third eye can be physically covered, such as with a headscarf or hood, it is always present, and no supernatural power can obscure it except those that hide the entire Salubri. Any time a Salubri activates a Discipline power, the third eye weeps vitae, its intensity correlating to the level of the Discipline being used, from welling up to a torrential flow. The blood flow from the third eye triggers a Hunger Frenzy test from nearby vampires with Hunger 4 or more.

Something in the Salubri resists the vampiric condition, and the more they indulge their Hunger, the less inclined their Blood is to obey them. Only in abstinence are they free to employ the full extent of their powers, as a Salubri vampire needs the pangs of starvation to avoid stymieing their supernatural abilities.

When their Hunger is below three, Salubri vampires suffer a penalty equal to their Bane Severity to any Discipline dice pools. This is in addition to the third eye, described on p. 47.

This variant provides characterization of the Salubri in chronicles where their hunted status isn’t practical or interesting to focus on, such as when the player coterie provides the majority of the vampires in the domain.

冲动

Very few Salubri exist in the modern nights. In some senses, each Salubri is their own archetype; if a Salubri appears in the chronicle’s domain, they’re there for a purpose.

Whether because of their sire’s influence, or the sole reason of a third eye mysteriously appearing on their forehead — coming back even after being surgically removed or extracted — the Seeker of the Truth just knows there’s deeper meaning in all of this, and dedicates their unlife to a grand search for answers. Once a philosophy student, a self-proclaimed researcher of the unknown, and a “spiritual influencer,” this Cyclops focuses on the nature of the undead by examining their own body and observing its reactions to external stimuli (does the third eye behave just like the other two?), seeking enlightenment in written or spoken words of other Kindred, and starving their Beast to uncover the mysteries of Golconda. Where others see things mundane or risks not worth taking, the Seeker of the Truth sees opportunity to learn, even at the cost of their own safety.

Some are born to help others, wishing for nothing else but to cure the ill, soothe the afflicted, and offer a caring hand to all in need. Some end up doing this because their family paid for a medical degree (the salary prospects aren’t too bad). Whatever their motivation was, the Embrace has given them new tools: Now, they’re able to restore the living —and even the undead — with their Blood. Unfortunately, this isn’t what they signed up for. Torn away from their old job and life they only thought they hated, the Unwilling Healer finds themselves loath to continue their craft, yet forced to do so by their sire, other Kindred, and their own empathetic Compulsion. Jaded, they do what they must, all while looking forward to anything that could make their job feel rewarding again.

Let’s face it: The prospect of spending eternity disguising one’s forehead and battling the Hunger is not entirely a dream come true. Forever in hiding, never understanding why anyone would subject another to the punishment of the Embrace, the Monster Against Monsters forges their resentment into action. Unwelcome in Kindred society, they actively work against it, serving as the anonymous informant for the local police or keeping a close eye on other predators on their own, sabotaging their feeding attempts whenever situation allows. The prospect of culling the undead population is tempting for them, but whether it’s done by their own hands or through cooperation with mortal forces working against Kindred, it’s an incredibly dangerous game to play.

Hiding the eye (and the blood that tends to ooze from it in the least convenient moments) takes practice and dedication. Bandanas, hats, bandages and patches, absorbing textiles meticulously taped to one’s skin and hidden under garments, realistic silicone masks, staying away from lit up areas and cameras.… With a nightly routine consisting of so many precautions, it’s no wonder the Spy for Hire forever stays in disguise, working undercover and leaving no trace behind. Hiring an alleged soulsucker for a silent job might sound like the last resort for many, but with their existence so dependent on lying low, the Salubri might as well be the most reliable candidates for any tasks requiring an incognito approach. So long as they’re guaranteed protection and discretion, the Spy for Hire is up for any task — for a good price, of course.

Dragons
The Old Clan
Voivodes
Stokers

Not to lead, not to triumph, but to rule — to own utterly.

To the Tzimisce, possession is all. They aim to dominate and own the subject of their possessiveness, jealously guarding it like their namesake dragon would its hoard. Everything from land, people, cults, companies, or gangs can fall under the covetous claws of a Dragon. This relentless possessiveness extends as well to their own bodies, and they often rework themselves into flawless, hideous, or utterly alien forms, all the better to display their utter control of all things theirs.

The clan’s charges have traditionally been defined geographically, such as a land or a regional people, but as Transylvanian properties dwindle they extend their obsession to gangs or business chains or even military units. Their covetousness limited only by lack of opportunity, they are exceedingly hard to dislodge once they’ve sunk their claws in.

Few carry a grudge or hate an elder like a Tzimisce, and the clan has numerous members in both the Sabbat and the Anarchs. Among the Black Hand, a nigh-medieval mindset drives the grasping Dragons to destroy the pawns of the despised ancients. Similarly, being shut out of the most desirable domains often drives young Tzimisce into the modern ways of the Anarchs, as they redefine themselves and their charges to claim holdings relevant to the night. Some few Tzimisce, generally arch-traditionalists, find a familiar (some would say anachronistic or even stagnant...) comfort in the neofeudalism of the Camarilla, but these are comparatively rare, and most Camarilla courts have little love for their avarice. Few Tzimisce see sect as much more than a means to a personal end, and the Camarilla gives them little trust in return. At their worst, the Tzimisce are tyrants, without the sense of obligation or duty that nobility usually conveys.

To have been Embraced a Tzimisce means to own for the sake of owning, and to keep it out of the hands of others at all costs. In fact, many Tzimisce regard the Embrace itself as an act of ownership, and have decidedly traditional relationships with their childer, whom they may even regard as property in extreme cases. If pushed to the edge they’d rather burn with their charge than let it fall into the hands of others; as Dragons, they are utterly familiar with the meaning of “scorched earth.” Even tonight, they are the iron fist, with the velvet glove entirely optional. In a few cases their subjects are willing, but in most cases these subjects live in fear of an aloof master caring not about the happiness of its prize — only that it stays theirs. Visiting members of other clans are occasionally shocked to see Tzimisce domains that are run-down, neglected, or barren, until they remember that the Dragons don’t necessarily care whether their charges flourish, only that they are wholly owned. A decrepit tenement is just as likely to be a Tzimisce holding as an opulent estate on ancestral lands.

This relentless possessiveness extends as well to the physical form — and beyond — of the Tzimisce, who consider themselves the ultimate owners of their bodies, even beyond the limitations of the Curse of Caine itself. Many Dragons practice a specialization of the Protean Discipline known as Vicissitude that allows them to rework their bodies and those of subjects and even lesswilling victims. Indeed, those steeped in the lore of the clan recall the early nights of Vicissitude, when the Tzimisce refused to heed Protean limitations of wolf and bat forms, and pushed their mastery even further. In those nights, they created their fleshcrafted servitors, the hideous szlachta and the terrifying composite beasts known as the vozhd. (See Consolidated Antagonists, p. 241, for their statistics.)

Even beyond the practice of physical Vicissitude, the Dragons eagerly extend that mastery into the realm of the mind and spirit. These Tzimisce practice a form of transcendentalism that concerns itself with the very limits of vampirism itself. They transform themselves into statues or ikons, or alter the traits of gender (such vestigial mortal trappings...), or cultivate retinues of lookalikes to subsume their own individuality. To hear the hoariest tales, some Voivode lords have themselves become one with their havens, or even suffused themselves into their homelands, merging their consciousness with the very soil of the domain. What better way to show ownership of the land and its folk than to become that very land and sustain the generations to come?

As might be expected, this makes for harsh divides between young Tzimisce, who often have little that would be considered property in the traditional sense, and older Dragons, who have had time to claim and redouble their precious holdings, and this has been true since time out of mind. No surprise, then, to learn that the Tzimisce participated vigorously in the Anarch Revolt, and were one of the founding clans of the Sabbat, rebelling against the tyranny of elders. Even tonight this wariness exists, and Dragons are exceptionally cunning when it comes to defining the charges over which they claim ownership, lest a more-covetous Voivode seize the charge for their own.

Some Tzimisce cultivate Animalism as an extension of their oneness with their domains. Others see it as a tool to better command hosts of lesser beasts in order to claim those domains. In any case, Tzimisce have long felt an affinity with the more bestial denizens of their ancestral lands.

The perfect Discipline for enforcing one’s edicts through sheer mental force. Dominate not only helps the Dragons seize the object of their obsession, but also conditions long-term servitors into extensions of the Fiend’s unquestionable will.

As masters of their own physical forms, the Tzimisce use Protean to force themselves into other shapes, especially those associated with many of the ancestral lands of the Old Clan, such as the bat and wolf. Beyond these traditional Kindred guises, many Tzimisce practice the methods of Vicissitude (see p. 81), which allows them to transcend the rote forms of Protean and treat their own bodies and those of their subjects as primal clay.

The Tzimisce are grounded: Each Tzimisce must choose a specific charge — a physical domain, a group of people, an organization, or even something more esoteric — but clearly defined and limited. The Kindred must spend their daysleep surrounded by their chosen charge. Historically this has often meant slumbering in the soil of their land, but it can also mean being surrounded by that which they tonight rule: a certain kind of people, a building deeply tied to their obsession, a local counterculture faction, or other, more outlandish elements. If they do not, they sustain aggravated Willpower damage equal to their Bane Severity upon waking the following night.

Just as many Tzimisce are deadly serious about their own haven and property, so are they compelled to treat that of others. A Tzimisce vampire entering someone else’s home uninvited suffers severe distress and an almost physical desire to leave.

A Tzimisce vampire wishing to enter a place of residence (homes and havens alike) uninvited must spend Willpower equal to their Bane Severity and also suffers a similar dice penalty to their Discipline pools during their stay. The invitation must be made by someone who lives (or unlives) there, and thus only actual inhabited homes or havens fulfill this condition. The Tzimisce can freely enter public or abandoned buildings; and flats or apartments count as separate homes for this purpose. Edge cases are left to the Storyteller’s discretion.

Tzimisce using this Bane cannot take the corresponding Folkloric Block as a Flaw.

If the chronicle is set in an established domain with few, if any, changes of haven, this variant Bane shines another spotlight on Tzimisce characteristics.

When a Tzimisce suffers a Compulsion, the Kindred becomes obsessed with possessing something in the scene, desiring to add it to their proverbial hoard. This can be anything from an object to a piece of property to an actual person. Any action not taken toward this purpose incurs a two-dice penalty. The Compulsion persists until ownership is established (the Storyteller decides what constitutes ownership in the case of a non-object) or the object of desire becomes unattainable.

Since time immemorial, the Tzimisce have been the lords of their domains. In the modern nights, however, the lord on the mountain has all but vanished. The Tzimisce are a crafty clan, though, and though they may no longer be manorial lords in ancestral Old World estates, they find ways to exert control over urban domains and rural territories where they may. Landlords may own tenement slums or fashionable high-rises, but the result is the same: They bleed their tenants for their wealth just as they bleed their victims for their blood, and they consider both to be extensions of their property.

It’s not a gang so much as it is a way to make sure everyone’s watching everyone else’s back when the rest of the world has written them off. The Gang Leader goes out of the way to show how everyone working toward a common goal, that society tells them they can’t have, simply needs to reach out and take it. If they weren’t running a drug cartel or a protection racket, the gang leader would be hailed as a captain of industry.

So long as the Tzimisce have claimed domain, they have been in conflict with those who seek to take it from them, which is often everyone to the covetous Fiends. In particular, the Tzimisce have longstanding hostilities toward the Tremere, Gangrel, and Nosferatu, whom they see variously not only as usurpers of the Blood but also as interlopers in territories that rightfully belonged to them or their sires. Grudgebearers rise each night to exact some small mote of cold revenge against those they perceive to have slighted them, and against the childer of childer of hated rivals.

Possessed not of a traditional land domain, the Special Forces Commander has instead the nighfanatical respect of their unit, and their soldiers would follow them into Hell itself. So the Special Forces Commander bides their time and trains their troops, for when they can perhaps parlay an insurrection or police action into a greater claim of domain.