Last of the Walking Shadows Bloodlines... for now. The Mara always struck me as rather intriguing, and they've been one of the more high profile bloodlines in my game. I did mess around with their Discipline lineup, giving them the Sakti Paka Discipline from Ancient Bloodlines. Nicor is an upgrade of Sakti Paka, cross-pollinated a bit with Lasombra Obtenebration and Norvegi Bloodworking.
Mara
In the lightless murk of the world’s waters, a horrifying line of monstrous Gangrel dwell, silent and predatory. Concealed beneath the icy waves of northern shores or walking in the murky silt of the blood-warm bayou, they wait to drag their living victims down under the surface to feed upon or present as sacrifice in their warped, wordless rituals. No material goods of the walking world tempt them and no fire threatens them. They are the Mara, the drowned Kindred, the creatures that show just how far from 'human' a vampire can get, with black water in their veins.
Motif
Their origins lost to time, the Mara appear sporadically in Kindred records beginning in the 11th century. From their origins in the North Sea, they have spread to every shore and coast, one of the most successful bloodlines in the world. Orthodox Mara worship the Sunken Mother, a Tethys-like figure who gave birth to all of the waters of the world before being slain by a jealous sun-god. The orthodox Mara see themselves as her last children, instruments of divine vengeance against the God of the Day and his followers. They turn their blood into a choking black brine and conduct sanguine rituals beneath the waves, their litany a mishmash of Greco-Roman, Celtic, and Germanic myths. They embrace from the marginal members of society, and they induct other Gangrel into their cults with frightening regularity.
More practically, the Mara owe their success to a simple realization. Most Kindred agree that they are not quite human, but they don't act on this. Rather, they still go about pretending to be people, and they fail to realize that their undead forms give them possibilities. The Mara grasp instinctively that dead lungs need no air, that the water can protect them from their foes and from the sun, that the water can provide for them and hide their indiscretions. Theirs is not a Requiem that appeals to the haughty, the wealthy, those cultured Kindred that thrive on human adoration. But the Mara survive, though in the process they become something other than human.
The Mara are driven beneath the waters by their faith, by their wish to survive, and by the black water in their veins. They adapt to a very different world, one without mortal language or mortal goods. They sleep the day away in stagnant bogs or beautiful coral reefs, in toxic, polluted rivers or in shimmering pools. They abandon mortal language for their own tongue of hums and clicks, and few bother with human clothing or anything but the most basic of accouterments. They spurn the life of the land-dwellers for their own strange, ascetic existences and for the worship of the Sunken Mother. Witnesses to their eerie, slow dances and the mingling of their tangled hair or bone-pale flesh with waterborne blood can be forgiven for thinking that the Mara are truly otherworldly beings.
Not all Mara succumb so completely to their black blood. Some, more ambitious or more innocent try to straddle the shoreline between the waters and the world of men. They try and enjoy the comforts of humanity and the company of their fellow Kindred while never venturing too far from the waters' sheltering embrace. But even they cannot deny that the black water in their hearts makes them something very, very different from their land-born cousins.
Theme
The Vampire as Alien to Humanity
Vampires are monsters, but the great majority of Kindred still act human. They have flats, they wear clothes, they use money, they watch television and read the newspaper. The Mara show that this is only habit on the Kindred's part, that the vampire can become something very, very different if they try. The most faithful among them spurn all things pertaining to the land-walkers but their blood, and even those who dwell among the kine have connections to a very different world.
In London
The recent misadventures of the Mara are a clear example of why, precisely, it is a poor idea for the Mara to venture too far from the water. The Mara cult of London is old, old, old, traditionally female and with close links to the spirit Jenny Greenteeth. But their recent bid for leadership over the Circle of the Crone and their subsequent effort to sink a tourist barge as a sacrifice to the Sunken Mother both backfired dramatically. The Mara earned the enmity of the Freehold of New Jerusalem, and then in their weakness were attacked by several local werewolf packs. The Mara in London have either fled the city, been slain, have sought protection from land-born covenants, or are keeping very, very quiet.
The most high-profile member of the Mara, the beautiful if erratic Cynthia, has broken with decades of tradition and sought sanctuary from the Lancea et Sanctum. It helps that the current Bishop is an old lover of hers, and while Cynthia is far from a sane or balanced individual, she has her talents. Only time will tell if this arrangement holds, but for now Cynthia has survived the fall of the Mara. Which, really, is a very Mara-ish thing to do. They survive.
Cynthia's secret childe, Evan Adair, continues along much as he has. Isolated from the traditional Mara culture, Evan was also spared the recent downfall of his kin. As such, he remains in the Ordo Dracul, a promising young neonate and personal student of the Kogaion. He does have to feed by purchasing rats from the pet store and drowning them in his bathtub, however, which does rather put a damper on his enthusiasm about life.
Clan: Gangrel
Bloodline Disciplines: Animalism, Protean, Resilience, Nicor
Bloodline Weakness: The Black Water Curse
The blood of a Mara turns into a sort of choking black water, a thick and viscous concoction like blood but not quite like blood. This also changes the Mara's feeding habits -- the Mara must be at least three-quarters submerged when he feeds on a victim, or else he gains no sustenance from the feeding.
As a result, it is very difficult for Mara to feed subtly, and most Mara put some effort into figuring out ways around their Curse. Young Mara tend to feed on animals most of the time, while their older kin either abandon subtlety altogether, or find some way of beguiling mortals into consenting to an aquatic Kiss (the hot tub is one of humanity's few worthwhile inventions, in Mara eyes). Elder Mara often seek out involved methods of preserving their secrecy, whether cults to provide blood in that fashion or occult powers to let the Mara feed on the death energies of the drowned, leech the blood of others away, or something more esoteric.
Mara
In the lightless murk of the world’s waters, a horrifying line of monstrous Gangrel dwell, silent and predatory. Concealed beneath the icy waves of northern shores or walking in the murky silt of the blood-warm bayou, they wait to drag their living victims down under the surface to feed upon or present as sacrifice in their warped, wordless rituals. No material goods of the walking world tempt them and no fire threatens them. They are the Mara, the drowned Kindred, the creatures that show just how far from 'human' a vampire can get, with black water in their veins.
Motif
Their origins lost to time, the Mara appear sporadically in Kindred records beginning in the 11th century. From their origins in the North Sea, they have spread to every shore and coast, one of the most successful bloodlines in the world. Orthodox Mara worship the Sunken Mother, a Tethys-like figure who gave birth to all of the waters of the world before being slain by a jealous sun-god. The orthodox Mara see themselves as her last children, instruments of divine vengeance against the God of the Day and his followers. They turn their blood into a choking black brine and conduct sanguine rituals beneath the waves, their litany a mishmash of Greco-Roman, Celtic, and Germanic myths. They embrace from the marginal members of society, and they induct other Gangrel into their cults with frightening regularity.
More practically, the Mara owe their success to a simple realization. Most Kindred agree that they are not quite human, but they don't act on this. Rather, they still go about pretending to be people, and they fail to realize that their undead forms give them possibilities. The Mara grasp instinctively that dead lungs need no air, that the water can protect them from their foes and from the sun, that the water can provide for them and hide their indiscretions. Theirs is not a Requiem that appeals to the haughty, the wealthy, those cultured Kindred that thrive on human adoration. But the Mara survive, though in the process they become something other than human.
The Mara are driven beneath the waters by their faith, by their wish to survive, and by the black water in their veins. They adapt to a very different world, one without mortal language or mortal goods. They sleep the day away in stagnant bogs or beautiful coral reefs, in toxic, polluted rivers or in shimmering pools. They abandon mortal language for their own tongue of hums and clicks, and few bother with human clothing or anything but the most basic of accouterments. They spurn the life of the land-dwellers for their own strange, ascetic existences and for the worship of the Sunken Mother. Witnesses to their eerie, slow dances and the mingling of their tangled hair or bone-pale flesh with waterborne blood can be forgiven for thinking that the Mara are truly otherworldly beings.
Not all Mara succumb so completely to their black blood. Some, more ambitious or more innocent try to straddle the shoreline between the waters and the world of men. They try and enjoy the comforts of humanity and the company of their fellow Kindred while never venturing too far from the waters' sheltering embrace. But even they cannot deny that the black water in their hearts makes them something very, very different from their land-born cousins.
Theme
The Vampire as Alien to Humanity
Vampires are monsters, but the great majority of Kindred still act human. They have flats, they wear clothes, they use money, they watch television and read the newspaper. The Mara show that this is only habit on the Kindred's part, that the vampire can become something very, very different if they try. The most faithful among them spurn all things pertaining to the land-walkers but their blood, and even those who dwell among the kine have connections to a very different world.
In London
The recent misadventures of the Mara are a clear example of why, precisely, it is a poor idea for the Mara to venture too far from the water. The Mara cult of London is old, old, old, traditionally female and with close links to the spirit Jenny Greenteeth. But their recent bid for leadership over the Circle of the Crone and their subsequent effort to sink a tourist barge as a sacrifice to the Sunken Mother both backfired dramatically. The Mara earned the enmity of the Freehold of New Jerusalem, and then in their weakness were attacked by several local werewolf packs. The Mara in London have either fled the city, been slain, have sought protection from land-born covenants, or are keeping very, very quiet.
The most high-profile member of the Mara, the beautiful if erratic Cynthia, has broken with decades of tradition and sought sanctuary from the Lancea et Sanctum. It helps that the current Bishop is an old lover of hers, and while Cynthia is far from a sane or balanced individual, she has her talents. Only time will tell if this arrangement holds, but for now Cynthia has survived the fall of the Mara. Which, really, is a very Mara-ish thing to do. They survive.
Cynthia's secret childe, Evan Adair, continues along much as he has. Isolated from the traditional Mara culture, Evan was also spared the recent downfall of his kin. As such, he remains in the Ordo Dracul, a promising young neonate and personal student of the Kogaion. He does have to feed by purchasing rats from the pet store and drowning them in his bathtub, however, which does rather put a damper on his enthusiasm about life.
Clan: Gangrel
Bloodline Disciplines: Animalism, Protean, Resilience, Nicor
Bloodline Weakness: The Black Water Curse
The blood of a Mara turns into a sort of choking black water, a thick and viscous concoction like blood but not quite like blood. This also changes the Mara's feeding habits -- the Mara must be at least three-quarters submerged when he feeds on a victim, or else he gains no sustenance from the feeding.
As a result, it is very difficult for Mara to feed subtly, and most Mara put some effort into figuring out ways around their Curse. Young Mara tend to feed on animals most of the time, while their older kin either abandon subtlety altogether, or find some way of beguiling mortals into consenting to an aquatic Kiss (the hot tub is one of humanity's few worthwhile inventions, in Mara eyes). Elder Mara often seek out involved methods of preserving their secrecy, whether cults to provide blood in that fashion or occult powers to let the Mara feed on the death energies of the drowned, leech the blood of others away, or something more esoteric.
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