Alright, today let's look at the Baetyl.
This will be a bit brief because I'm slightly low on time today, but I wanted to talk about the Baetyl because they represented a more specific example of a broader theme I wanted to do with the book: Protean as a more general form of shapeshifting. Similar to the Yarilo (who we'll talk about soon), the Termites take on shapes that aren't the traditional "beastly" forms of Protean. For the Baetyl, that's taking on inorganic forms (which is also part of their bane), and I think that makes for a fun expansion of the Gangrel's general inhumanity.
Not too much to say about the development process here; this was a bloodline I immediately loved upon seeing the concept, though it did go through some mechanical overhaul as it went along. In contrast to the Wickers, this is a good example of a bloodline that also has a lot of more esoteric aspects yet doesn't go too far off the baseline in terms of its power-set.
Incidentally, their "Once upon a midnight darkly" origin is actually based on a true story. See if you can find it.
So, here are the Baetyl! I might take tomorrow off, but we'll see if I feel up for some more commentary.
Baetyl: The ones who tower over you
"The mountain knows secrets to cleave the sky in twain."
A statue looms over you upon a stained metal dais. It doesn’t move its lips, but its voice echoes in your mind, telling you of nightmares you’ve feared longer than you remember, and dreams that could one day become your reality. It’s not offering you a bargain, though. The voice in your head doesn’t want you to achieve those dreams — it only desires truth. To know you. To know everything.
When flesh blossoms from the heart of stone and the monster inside grinds your bones and drinks your blood, you realize it’s still listening, tapping into the secrets in your sinew.
The land has a history all its own. The fawn that takes its nourishment from the bounty of the earth. The wolf that hunts the fawn. The vulture that feeds from the wolf when it becomes carrion. Each animal gives to the land as much as it takes, and every hunt and memory is ready for the Baetyl to collect.
The Baetyl are the sages of Clan Gangrel. Not content to dine on blood alone, they feast on inanimate detritus, learning truths the rest of the All Night Society would trample over. Wisdom only comes with the patience of stone and earth, and for their unique relationship to the land, their siblings call them Termites. But a Baetyl prides herself on this distinction: She speaks for the speechless, and for her efforts, they reward her curiosity.
To achieve this gnosis, a Termite’s first morsel is the Bloody Core, a stone bezoar bathed in blood. Only by swallowing the thing whole can her becoming commence. This object helps Baetyl digest their strange diets, and it changes their forms to better reflect that — in the end — you really are what they eat. Even the plastics and processed metals of the kine are just more fuel to a Termite, from which she can form steel teeth, granite claws, and unblinking electric eyes. Some can masquerade as statues, or the very ground beneath their quarry’s feet. Kindred are right to fear a Haunt cloaked in shadows, or their minds breaking under the weight of a Lord’s words, but how often does a Lick think of the pavement he walks upon? The stairs he climbs as he stalks his prey? What about the blood fountain at the center of Elysium?
Some Termites share their gift — not with other Kindred, of course, but the dead familiars they raise in the bond of death. They feed their loyal hounds with gravel kibble and iron T-bone steaks; even bones have calcium around the soft and worthless marrow. By the time stone and iron grows where once was fur, the Baetyl is ready to help soothe the creature’s pain. They add to the raw beauty of nature’s hand with runes, spirals, and potent curses to make the stone hide flexible and durable. Some Termites raise more than one monster this way, both a statuary and a menagerie of things lesser minds might call homunculi — or just abominations.
Then there are the Baetyl who focus on themselves. Instead of making monsters, they make themselves monstrous. Through the twisted manipulation of their bodies and the potency of Vitae, they endow themselves with animal features refined with the potency of mineral and earth. She’s the jack-booted thug who walks into war chewing down a box of nails. He’s the assassin whose wooden claws break a target’s heart. The Baetyl are both wisemen and warriors, natural and unnatural. They are the eyes of unblinking statues and the creaks in floorboards, the paper with ceaseless stories written in inks of soil, metal, and blood. Do not fear the monster. Fear what it knows.
Parent Clan: Gangrel
Nicknames: Termites, Gargoyles (erroneously)
Bloodline Bane (The Chimeric Curse): As a Baetyl ages and her connection to mortality wanes, more and more of the inorganic material ground up by the Bloody Core remains in her body, pushing up against the skin. This takes the form of strange nubs and bumps, like stone or metal teeth, or flesh turning stone gray. As such, her ability to interact with mortals is limited. In addition to the Feral Curse, Baetyl effectively have the same bane as the Nosferatu (Vampire, p. 103).
Disciplines: Animalism, Auspex, Protean, Resilience
Bloodline Gift: The Bezoar Core
Baetyl can consume inorganic and inanimate matter. As long as a Termite can fit an object in her mouth, she can swallow it. Once per scene, [REDACTED].
This will be a bit brief because I'm slightly low on time today, but I wanted to talk about the Baetyl because they represented a more specific example of a broader theme I wanted to do with the book: Protean as a more general form of shapeshifting. Similar to the Yarilo (who we'll talk about soon), the Termites take on shapes that aren't the traditional "beastly" forms of Protean. For the Baetyl, that's taking on inorganic forms (which is also part of their bane), and I think that makes for a fun expansion of the Gangrel's general inhumanity.
Not too much to say about the development process here; this was a bloodline I immediately loved upon seeing the concept, though it did go through some mechanical overhaul as it went along. In contrast to the Wickers, this is a good example of a bloodline that also has a lot of more esoteric aspects yet doesn't go too far off the baseline in terms of its power-set.
Incidentally, their "Once upon a midnight darkly" origin is actually based on a true story. See if you can find it.
So, here are the Baetyl! I might take tomorrow off, but we'll see if I feel up for some more commentary.
Baetyl: The ones who tower over you
"The mountain knows secrets to cleave the sky in twain."
A statue looms over you upon a stained metal dais. It doesn’t move its lips, but its voice echoes in your mind, telling you of nightmares you’ve feared longer than you remember, and dreams that could one day become your reality. It’s not offering you a bargain, though. The voice in your head doesn’t want you to achieve those dreams — it only desires truth. To know you. To know everything.
When flesh blossoms from the heart of stone and the monster inside grinds your bones and drinks your blood, you realize it’s still listening, tapping into the secrets in your sinew.
The land has a history all its own. The fawn that takes its nourishment from the bounty of the earth. The wolf that hunts the fawn. The vulture that feeds from the wolf when it becomes carrion. Each animal gives to the land as much as it takes, and every hunt and memory is ready for the Baetyl to collect.
The Baetyl are the sages of Clan Gangrel. Not content to dine on blood alone, they feast on inanimate detritus, learning truths the rest of the All Night Society would trample over. Wisdom only comes with the patience of stone and earth, and for their unique relationship to the land, their siblings call them Termites. But a Baetyl prides herself on this distinction: She speaks for the speechless, and for her efforts, they reward her curiosity.
To achieve this gnosis, a Termite’s first morsel is the Bloody Core, a stone bezoar bathed in blood. Only by swallowing the thing whole can her becoming commence. This object helps Baetyl digest their strange diets, and it changes their forms to better reflect that — in the end — you really are what they eat. Even the plastics and processed metals of the kine are just more fuel to a Termite, from which she can form steel teeth, granite claws, and unblinking electric eyes. Some can masquerade as statues, or the very ground beneath their quarry’s feet. Kindred are right to fear a Haunt cloaked in shadows, or their minds breaking under the weight of a Lord’s words, but how often does a Lick think of the pavement he walks upon? The stairs he climbs as he stalks his prey? What about the blood fountain at the center of Elysium?
Some Termites share their gift — not with other Kindred, of course, but the dead familiars they raise in the bond of death. They feed their loyal hounds with gravel kibble and iron T-bone steaks; even bones have calcium around the soft and worthless marrow. By the time stone and iron grows where once was fur, the Baetyl is ready to help soothe the creature’s pain. They add to the raw beauty of nature’s hand with runes, spirals, and potent curses to make the stone hide flexible and durable. Some Termites raise more than one monster this way, both a statuary and a menagerie of things lesser minds might call homunculi — or just abominations.
Then there are the Baetyl who focus on themselves. Instead of making monsters, they make themselves monstrous. Through the twisted manipulation of their bodies and the potency of Vitae, they endow themselves with animal features refined with the potency of mineral and earth. She’s the jack-booted thug who walks into war chewing down a box of nails. He’s the assassin whose wooden claws break a target’s heart. The Baetyl are both wisemen and warriors, natural and unnatural. They are the eyes of unblinking statues and the creaks in floorboards, the paper with ceaseless stories written in inks of soil, metal, and blood. Do not fear the monster. Fear what it knows.
Parent Clan: Gangrel
Nicknames: Termites, Gargoyles (erroneously)
Bloodline Bane (The Chimeric Curse): As a Baetyl ages and her connection to mortality wanes, more and more of the inorganic material ground up by the Bloody Core remains in her body, pushing up against the skin. This takes the form of strange nubs and bumps, like stone or metal teeth, or flesh turning stone gray. As such, her ability to interact with mortals is limited. In addition to the Feral Curse, Baetyl effectively have the same bane as the Nosferatu (Vampire, p. 103).
Disciplines: Animalism, Auspex, Protean, Resilience
Bloodline Gift: The Bezoar Core
Baetyl can consume inorganic and inanimate matter. As long as a Termite can fit an object in her mouth, she can swallow it. Once per scene, [REDACTED].
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