Document Text Contents
Page 64
CHAPTER TWO: ALAS, THAT GREAT CITY
63
the Camarilla Kindred would all go forth to reclaim the vitae
scattered by their profl igate childer?
If any Camarilla clans have reached internal consensus
on the matter of the thin-blooded — an unlikely event,
given the familial rather than corporate nature of the clans
— they haven’t come forward to say so. However, this has
not discouraged the conspiracy theorists. Harpies whisper
that the Malkavians are secretly gathering up thin-blooded
seers to indoctrinate and train them for some unfathomable
mission. The Tremere have been accused of creating thin-
blooded for the express purpose of experimenting on them,
a charge Vienna has vehemently denied.
THE ANARCHS
I don’t care how sick her mother is, and I don’t care how
tight we were before. This is tough on you, huh? What about me
— what about Gracie? Watchin’ the two of you make kissyface
at her fuckin’ funeral? Go on, get out of here, if any of us catch
you in the neighborhood again you’re dead meat. And take the
damned dog!
— Benny Zubrowski, anarch ringleader
One might think the anarchs natural allies of the thin-
blooded: After all, the former are responsible for siring a
sizable number of the latter. More often, however, the new
vampires are regarded as disaster magnets, invitations to the
scourge, and thus driven away. Furthermore, neonates who
have tried to sire and failed can become astonishingly bitter.
In their disappointment, they turn on their more fortunate
brethren and accuse them of hoarding occult secrets. Such
rivalries have torn more than one anarch nest apart.
Anarch visionaries have fi nally, belatedly, realized the
potential usefulness of the thin-blooded, and now try to spread
a more conciliatory rhetoric. So far, however, their pleas have
fallen on deaf ears. The rebels are tired. Their momentum
has worn down, beset on all sides by truculent elders and
recalcitrant reality. Recently, a wave of suicide pacts among
anarch gang members has surfaced, groups of four or fi ve
walking hand-in-hand into the sunrise, or arranging to have
their havens set ablaze while they sleep. Those who endure
would eagerly welcome a new race of saviors, but convincing
them to believe will be a hard task indeed.
THE SABBAT
That’s what I told him. “Do I look like a baby-sitter to
you?” Damn bishop. I’ve already played that game once — you
remember that snotty kid you met when we swung by Jersey last?
And where do you think he is? Dead, of course. Three fucking
years of blood and sweat, and what’s the bottom line look like?
A big fat splotch of red ink. We’re the Sabbat for Chrissake, not
the Baptist Mission for Wayward Licks.
— Yvonne, Lasombra pack priest
The Sabbat claims more Noddist scholars than even
the Camarilla and the independent clans combined. From
its earliest nights, the sect has looked ahead to Gehenna as
the historic moment it was specially created to anticipate.
Naturally, it has found rich fodder for theorizing and debate
in the highest generations.
The Noddists insist that the gifts of the thin-blooded are
too portentous to ignore; they must be either brought into
the fold or killed. Accordingly, many prisci and archbishops
have ordered their underlings to set out lures for the newcom-
ers. Thin-blooded who respond to the invitation, however,
may well fi nd unlife in a pack too harsh to survive for long.
There’s no more room now for error or weakness than there
ever was, and many ordinary Sabbat resent the idea that
they should burden themselves with ignorant younglings just
because of some musty pedant’s reading of some pretentious
scripture. Besides, aren’t the thin-blooded supposed to be
the Antediluvians’ wake-up call? Sabbat like to boast that
they welcome the Gehenna with no reservations — that
no true warrior fears battle. But in reality, some members of
the sect aren’t quite sure how prepared they are to face the
raging Ancients.
A bigger problem is that the thin-blooded unwittingly
present a direct challenge to Sabbat ideology. The sect’s whole
philosophy is built around the idea that vampires are a step
above humanity, and that to behave like a human is to admit
one is an inferior individual. Most Sabbat have no intention
of giving up this comforting delusion when their supreme
hour is fi nally near, and they may well be moved to destroy
any offending bits of reality they come across. That certainly
includes vampires who take extra-long showers and can’t kick
their popcorn habit. Prospective enlistees beware.
ASSAMITES
Hush, infi del. I have been watching, and I know that this
existence is painful for you. How could it not be? You are caught
between one world and another, never to belong to either. Your
baby girl… ah, for her it is even more so. I told you I have been
watching. But, you see, she can be of use to me, while you cannot.
Please do not worry. Soon you will be of one world again — the
next — and she will be raised in the true faith. Aren’t you going
to thank me?
— Omer, Assamite rafi q
In these troubled nights, the independent clans are feared
more than ever. Although they were always a danger, at least
they could once be trusted to keep to their own hard-won
territories. Now, however, the Assamites have thrown off
the curse that once bound them. Unleashed, they promise
to bring more bloodshed to the coming decade than the past
several centuries of Jyhad have seen.
The thin-blooded are in even more peril than most.
The Path of Blood, which accomplished Assamites follow,
holds that a vampire’s blood must get ever stronger if he
hopes to achieve true enlightenment. Since those of the
thin-blooded generations obviously have little or no hope of
ever attaining such a blessed state themselves, they should
instead serve as sustenance for those who are more worthy.
And who knows? Perhaps if enough of their diluted blood is
absorbed, something can be learned of their unique powers.
Page 65
TIME OF THIN BLOOD
64
Dearest Hermia,
You must forgive me for the disgraceful gaps and lacunae in our correspondence. As you know, a great many press-
ing affairs intrude upon my customary solitude, and I no longer have the time that I should to confer with my pupils
in the brotherhood. But before you think to pity me, I bid you fi rst direct your prayers toward our poor Laocoön. After
all, he is charged with the task of rousing the bodies, minds, and feelings of a good two-dozen of our kind — even more
ancient than I, and at least as bitter. If he fails, the coming night will be grim indeed!
As I recall, you asked me in your last letter to explain the true secret of the Jyhad. Well! What a task you set
before me; is it any wonder I take a few years to answer? But never mind. As far as I know, there is no one true secret
— and I would be wary of anyone who told me otherwise. There are, however, a thousand little secrets, which can be
uncovered in time by the patient observer.
What is more, simple inductive reasoning will serve you as well as anything else. I will not permit you to be lazy:
I still remember that brilliant young girl at the symposium! Use your head! Personally, I have found that when
contemplating the Jyhad, it is best to bear in mind the natural circumstances of each generation; for whatever goals and
ideals one may pretend to, one is always constrained by circumstance.
Let us leave aside the Ancients for a moment, for the game is theirs in the end, and their plots are as many and
diverse as the species of birds. Instead, we shall move directly to their childer. Consider the plight of the Fourth Genera-
tion. Theirs is the dubious and almost exclusive distinction of having seen the Ancients in the fl esh — of knowing their
faces, their voices, their loves and hatreds. Furthermore, as they know the Ancients, so they are themselves known; yes,
down to the smallest secrets of their mortal pasts. This places them in an unenviable position vis-à-vis the Jyhad. After
all, to whom does your sire turn when he is in need? Could you defy a god who called you by name?
Surely, as the Ancients stir, the situation can only grow worse for our unhappy ancestors. The subtle whisper of
their elders’ sleeping minds will grow more strident; what was a dreamy, half-spoken wish will become a demand made
in the name of love, of Blood, of a debt too great ever to be discharged. How can it be otherwise? Obey they must, and
will, and there is no use at all in recriminations.
We now turn to the Fifth Generation, of which I can speak with more authority. Our situation is subtly different.
I have met my grandsire once, yes, but that was ages ago, and the conversation was brief. Lack of intimacy and a weaker
blood-tie translate to diminished obligation, or at least a diminished sense of it. We are close enough to see the Ancients’
strategies at work — close enough to serve, to rebel, to spy, to expose. Yet we are distant enough that withdrawal is
also a tempting possibility. We can more easily resist our sires than they can theirs. No wonder, then, that we make up
the greater part of the Inconnu.
We argue among ourselves, while we can still afford to. Some of us say that our chief duty is to survive. These
elders would have us run to ground, wait for the warfare to pass away, then emerge to rebuild. With time, they say,
all things are possible — even the thwarting of the Ancients — but we have done too little to date. It is too late for
half-measures, and we must see this bloody cycle through fi rst.
Then there are those who say that, unless we take an active part now, there will be no vampire race nor even a hu-
man race to reclaim in the end. We can break the long chain of domination, they say, for we alone are strong enough,
both as individuals and as a brotherhood, to be our own masters.
You know my feelings on the matter, dearest Hermia.
Next, we come to your own generation and those immediately below it. Six, Seven, Eight: the self-proclaimed princes
of our kind. Few indeed are aware, as you are, of how hollow that glory is. They shrug their shoulders in ignorance
at the mention of the Jyhad — or even dismiss it as a fi ction, a fanciful ploy with which their sires try to enslave them
long past their coming-of-age. Those who do believe in the Ancients stumble about in the fog of occultism, forming their
cults and writing their treatises, hoarding their pages from the First Book. Yet no matter how they labor, there is no
way for their ilk to know the true will of our forefathers! Thank your patron gods, Hermia, that they brought you into
our fold; that you were deemed trustworthy; that you had the strength to give up fl eeting worldly power for the sake of
illumination. A shoddy, dawdling illumination it has been, I know. But you shall see how even a little truth can shine
in the dark nights ahead.
Page 128
APPENDIX: THE WEEK OF NIGHTMARE
127
vampires of 12th to 15th Generations have a diffi culty of 8, whereas
eighth- to 11th-generation Ravnos have a diffi culty of 9, and Ravnos
of seventh generation or lower have a diffi culty of 10. A Ravnos
must make another hunger-frenzy check whenever she wakes up
at night or meets another Ravnos (even if she doesn’t recognize
the individual as a clanmate — the Blood calls to her).
This blood bath continues for three nights. If a Ravnos
character can survive these nights, the hunger fades as the An-
tediluvian sinks into the mire of legend.
FACING GEHENNA
Most vampires have no idea what happened during the Week
of Nightmare. They know that nightmares troubled their sleep
for several days, but they cannot remember what they dreamed
about. They might know that seers, lunatics and various “sensitive”
mortals fell into trances to rave about a mysterious battle (oddly
enough, Malkavians were not especially affected). They might
even know that the Ravnos have all but killed themselves off.
In short, most Kindred know that something big and bad
happened. Many suppose it a foretaste of Gehenna, perhaps
because vampires tend to see any disaster they can’t explain as
a portent of Gehenna.
This time, however, the doomsayers are absolutely correct.
The Antediluvians are waking up, they are as powerful and de-
structive as legends said they would be, and Gehenna has begun.
With the combined efforts of every potent force in the World
of Darkness only barely able to stem the tide of the fi rst ripple in
this apocalyptic ocean, what will happen when all the remaining
Antediluvians rise in tandem? Indeed, how many Antediluvians
are there? When will Gehenna arrive?
Can anything stop it?
THE RED STAR
Something new has appeared in the sky of the World
of Darkness. Mere mortals cannot see it at all. To super-
natural creatures such as vampires or ghouls, it looks like a
red star — fairly bright as stars go, but easy to overlook. To
beings with at least two dots in Auspex, however, the Red
Star looks very different. It burns as brightly as Venus, thus
making it hard to miss, and a red haze or nimbus surrounds
it like the halo of a comet. Kindred who have the Oracle
Merit see it this way too; the Red Star also may appear in
Insight visions.
The Red Star has nothing to do with the Week of
Nightmares directly. Anyone who can see its halo, however,
instinctively knows that it foretells evil. The Red Star’s
hellfi re glow rouses other evils from sleep. The Ravnos
Antediluvian would have awakened anyway, but the Red
Star woke it a few months sooner than otherwise.
Page 129
When the Blood of Caine
Will Be Weak
The Curse of Caine has existed for so long, it has finally begun to
weaken. Elders’ blood, passed from one childe to the next for gen-
erations, no longer holds the potency it once had. Too many childer
have been Embraced in the Final Nights — and reckoning must come
for these illegitimate vampires. If it does not, the world may end.
Gehenna Will Soon
Be Upon You
The Time of Thin Blood allows players to portray the hunted childer of
high-generation vampires. In addition, the Final Nights are upon us, and
this book offers Storytellers a glimpse at one of the first events in the un-
folding Gehenna. Rich in story and character content, The Time of Thin
Blood is the first step toward the world’s ultimate demise… or salvation.
The Time of Thin
Blood includes:
• Rules for creating 14th- and 15th-generation vampires — and
their children
• A wealth of setting material that allows Storytellers to bring the
Final Nights into play
• The death of a clan!
CHAPTER TWO: ALAS, THAT GREAT CITY
63
the Camarilla Kindred would all go forth to reclaim the vitae
scattered by their profl igate childer?
If any Camarilla clans have reached internal consensus
on the matter of the thin-blooded — an unlikely event,
given the familial rather than corporate nature of the clans
— they haven’t come forward to say so. However, this has
not discouraged the conspiracy theorists. Harpies whisper
that the Malkavians are secretly gathering up thin-blooded
seers to indoctrinate and train them for some unfathomable
mission. The Tremere have been accused of creating thin-
blooded for the express purpose of experimenting on them,
a charge Vienna has vehemently denied.
THE ANARCHS
I don’t care how sick her mother is, and I don’t care how
tight we were before. This is tough on you, huh? What about me
— what about Gracie? Watchin’ the two of you make kissyface
at her fuckin’ funeral? Go on, get out of here, if any of us catch
you in the neighborhood again you’re dead meat. And take the
damned dog!
— Benny Zubrowski, anarch ringleader
One might think the anarchs natural allies of the thin-
blooded: After all, the former are responsible for siring a
sizable number of the latter. More often, however, the new
vampires are regarded as disaster magnets, invitations to the
scourge, and thus driven away. Furthermore, neonates who
have tried to sire and failed can become astonishingly bitter.
In their disappointment, they turn on their more fortunate
brethren and accuse them of hoarding occult secrets. Such
rivalries have torn more than one anarch nest apart.
Anarch visionaries have fi nally, belatedly, realized the
potential usefulness of the thin-blooded, and now try to spread
a more conciliatory rhetoric. So far, however, their pleas have
fallen on deaf ears. The rebels are tired. Their momentum
has worn down, beset on all sides by truculent elders and
recalcitrant reality. Recently, a wave of suicide pacts among
anarch gang members has surfaced, groups of four or fi ve
walking hand-in-hand into the sunrise, or arranging to have
their havens set ablaze while they sleep. Those who endure
would eagerly welcome a new race of saviors, but convincing
them to believe will be a hard task indeed.
THE SABBAT
That’s what I told him. “Do I look like a baby-sitter to
you?” Damn bishop. I’ve already played that game once — you
remember that snotty kid you met when we swung by Jersey last?
And where do you think he is? Dead, of course. Three fucking
years of blood and sweat, and what’s the bottom line look like?
A big fat splotch of red ink. We’re the Sabbat for Chrissake, not
the Baptist Mission for Wayward Licks.
— Yvonne, Lasombra pack priest
The Sabbat claims more Noddist scholars than even
the Camarilla and the independent clans combined. From
its earliest nights, the sect has looked ahead to Gehenna as
the historic moment it was specially created to anticipate.
Naturally, it has found rich fodder for theorizing and debate
in the highest generations.
The Noddists insist that the gifts of the thin-blooded are
too portentous to ignore; they must be either brought into
the fold or killed. Accordingly, many prisci and archbishops
have ordered their underlings to set out lures for the newcom-
ers. Thin-blooded who respond to the invitation, however,
may well fi nd unlife in a pack too harsh to survive for long.
There’s no more room now for error or weakness than there
ever was, and many ordinary Sabbat resent the idea that
they should burden themselves with ignorant younglings just
because of some musty pedant’s reading of some pretentious
scripture. Besides, aren’t the thin-blooded supposed to be
the Antediluvians’ wake-up call? Sabbat like to boast that
they welcome the Gehenna with no reservations — that
no true warrior fears battle. But in reality, some members of
the sect aren’t quite sure how prepared they are to face the
raging Ancients.
A bigger problem is that the thin-blooded unwittingly
present a direct challenge to Sabbat ideology. The sect’s whole
philosophy is built around the idea that vampires are a step
above humanity, and that to behave like a human is to admit
one is an inferior individual. Most Sabbat have no intention
of giving up this comforting delusion when their supreme
hour is fi nally near, and they may well be moved to destroy
any offending bits of reality they come across. That certainly
includes vampires who take extra-long showers and can’t kick
their popcorn habit. Prospective enlistees beware.
ASSAMITES
Hush, infi del. I have been watching, and I know that this
existence is painful for you. How could it not be? You are caught
between one world and another, never to belong to either. Your
baby girl… ah, for her it is even more so. I told you I have been
watching. But, you see, she can be of use to me, while you cannot.
Please do not worry. Soon you will be of one world again — the
next — and she will be raised in the true faith. Aren’t you going
to thank me?
— Omer, Assamite rafi q
In these troubled nights, the independent clans are feared
more than ever. Although they were always a danger, at least
they could once be trusted to keep to their own hard-won
territories. Now, however, the Assamites have thrown off
the curse that once bound them. Unleashed, they promise
to bring more bloodshed to the coming decade than the past
several centuries of Jyhad have seen.
The thin-blooded are in even more peril than most.
The Path of Blood, which accomplished Assamites follow,
holds that a vampire’s blood must get ever stronger if he
hopes to achieve true enlightenment. Since those of the
thin-blooded generations obviously have little or no hope of
ever attaining such a blessed state themselves, they should
instead serve as sustenance for those who are more worthy.
And who knows? Perhaps if enough of their diluted blood is
absorbed, something can be learned of their unique powers.
Page 65
TIME OF THIN BLOOD
64
Dearest Hermia,
You must forgive me for the disgraceful gaps and lacunae in our correspondence. As you know, a great many press-
ing affairs intrude upon my customary solitude, and I no longer have the time that I should to confer with my pupils
in the brotherhood. But before you think to pity me, I bid you fi rst direct your prayers toward our poor Laocoön. After
all, he is charged with the task of rousing the bodies, minds, and feelings of a good two-dozen of our kind — even more
ancient than I, and at least as bitter. If he fails, the coming night will be grim indeed!
As I recall, you asked me in your last letter to explain the true secret of the Jyhad. Well! What a task you set
before me; is it any wonder I take a few years to answer? But never mind. As far as I know, there is no one true secret
— and I would be wary of anyone who told me otherwise. There are, however, a thousand little secrets, which can be
uncovered in time by the patient observer.
What is more, simple inductive reasoning will serve you as well as anything else. I will not permit you to be lazy:
I still remember that brilliant young girl at the symposium! Use your head! Personally, I have found that when
contemplating the Jyhad, it is best to bear in mind the natural circumstances of each generation; for whatever goals and
ideals one may pretend to, one is always constrained by circumstance.
Let us leave aside the Ancients for a moment, for the game is theirs in the end, and their plots are as many and
diverse as the species of birds. Instead, we shall move directly to their childer. Consider the plight of the Fourth Genera-
tion. Theirs is the dubious and almost exclusive distinction of having seen the Ancients in the fl esh — of knowing their
faces, their voices, their loves and hatreds. Furthermore, as they know the Ancients, so they are themselves known; yes,
down to the smallest secrets of their mortal pasts. This places them in an unenviable position vis-à-vis the Jyhad. After
all, to whom does your sire turn when he is in need? Could you defy a god who called you by name?
Surely, as the Ancients stir, the situation can only grow worse for our unhappy ancestors. The subtle whisper of
their elders’ sleeping minds will grow more strident; what was a dreamy, half-spoken wish will become a demand made
in the name of love, of Blood, of a debt too great ever to be discharged. How can it be otherwise? Obey they must, and
will, and there is no use at all in recriminations.
We now turn to the Fifth Generation, of which I can speak with more authority. Our situation is subtly different.
I have met my grandsire once, yes, but that was ages ago, and the conversation was brief. Lack of intimacy and a weaker
blood-tie translate to diminished obligation, or at least a diminished sense of it. We are close enough to see the Ancients’
strategies at work — close enough to serve, to rebel, to spy, to expose. Yet we are distant enough that withdrawal is
also a tempting possibility. We can more easily resist our sires than they can theirs. No wonder, then, that we make up
the greater part of the Inconnu.
We argue among ourselves, while we can still afford to. Some of us say that our chief duty is to survive. These
elders would have us run to ground, wait for the warfare to pass away, then emerge to rebuild. With time, they say,
all things are possible — even the thwarting of the Ancients — but we have done too little to date. It is too late for
half-measures, and we must see this bloody cycle through fi rst.
Then there are those who say that, unless we take an active part now, there will be no vampire race nor even a hu-
man race to reclaim in the end. We can break the long chain of domination, they say, for we alone are strong enough,
both as individuals and as a brotherhood, to be our own masters.
You know my feelings on the matter, dearest Hermia.
Next, we come to your own generation and those immediately below it. Six, Seven, Eight: the self-proclaimed princes
of our kind. Few indeed are aware, as you are, of how hollow that glory is. They shrug their shoulders in ignorance
at the mention of the Jyhad — or even dismiss it as a fi ction, a fanciful ploy with which their sires try to enslave them
long past their coming-of-age. Those who do believe in the Ancients stumble about in the fog of occultism, forming their
cults and writing their treatises, hoarding their pages from the First Book. Yet no matter how they labor, there is no
way for their ilk to know the true will of our forefathers! Thank your patron gods, Hermia, that they brought you into
our fold; that you were deemed trustworthy; that you had the strength to give up fl eeting worldly power for the sake of
illumination. A shoddy, dawdling illumination it has been, I know. But you shall see how even a little truth can shine
in the dark nights ahead.
Page 128
APPENDIX: THE WEEK OF NIGHTMARE
127
vampires of 12th to 15th Generations have a diffi culty of 8, whereas
eighth- to 11th-generation Ravnos have a diffi culty of 9, and Ravnos
of seventh generation or lower have a diffi culty of 10. A Ravnos
must make another hunger-frenzy check whenever she wakes up
at night or meets another Ravnos (even if she doesn’t recognize
the individual as a clanmate — the Blood calls to her).
This blood bath continues for three nights. If a Ravnos
character can survive these nights, the hunger fades as the An-
tediluvian sinks into the mire of legend.
FACING GEHENNA
Most vampires have no idea what happened during the Week
of Nightmare. They know that nightmares troubled their sleep
for several days, but they cannot remember what they dreamed
about. They might know that seers, lunatics and various “sensitive”
mortals fell into trances to rave about a mysterious battle (oddly
enough, Malkavians were not especially affected). They might
even know that the Ravnos have all but killed themselves off.
In short, most Kindred know that something big and bad
happened. Many suppose it a foretaste of Gehenna, perhaps
because vampires tend to see any disaster they can’t explain as
a portent of Gehenna.
This time, however, the doomsayers are absolutely correct.
The Antediluvians are waking up, they are as powerful and de-
structive as legends said they would be, and Gehenna has begun.
With the combined efforts of every potent force in the World
of Darkness only barely able to stem the tide of the fi rst ripple in
this apocalyptic ocean, what will happen when all the remaining
Antediluvians rise in tandem? Indeed, how many Antediluvians
are there? When will Gehenna arrive?
Can anything stop it?
THE RED STAR
Something new has appeared in the sky of the World
of Darkness. Mere mortals cannot see it at all. To super-
natural creatures such as vampires or ghouls, it looks like a
red star — fairly bright as stars go, but easy to overlook. To
beings with at least two dots in Auspex, however, the Red
Star looks very different. It burns as brightly as Venus, thus
making it hard to miss, and a red haze or nimbus surrounds
it like the halo of a comet. Kindred who have the Oracle
Merit see it this way too; the Red Star also may appear in
Insight visions.
The Red Star has nothing to do with the Week of
Nightmares directly. Anyone who can see its halo, however,
instinctively knows that it foretells evil. The Red Star’s
hellfi re glow rouses other evils from sleep. The Ravnos
Antediluvian would have awakened anyway, but the Red
Star woke it a few months sooner than otherwise.
Page 129
When the Blood of Caine
Will Be Weak
The Curse of Caine has existed for so long, it has finally begun to
weaken. Elders’ blood, passed from one childe to the next for gen-
erations, no longer holds the potency it once had. Too many childer
have been Embraced in the Final Nights — and reckoning must come
for these illegitimate vampires. If it does not, the world may end.
Gehenna Will Soon
Be Upon You
The Time of Thin Blood allows players to portray the hunted childer of
high-generation vampires. In addition, the Final Nights are upon us, and
this book offers Storytellers a glimpse at one of the first events in the un-
folding Gehenna. Rich in story and character content, The Time of Thin
Blood is the first step toward the world’s ultimate demise… or salvation.
The Time of Thin
Blood includes:
• Rules for creating 14th- and 15th-generation vampires — and
their children
• A wealth of setting material that allows Storytellers to bring the
Final Nights into play
• The death of a clan!
