THE CHILDREN OF CAINE

   By Timothy Toner thanatos@home.interaccess.com

   Of all the Clans, the most predictable and least predicable are those
   that call themselves Malkavians. They are predictable in that they are
   all insane, and they are unpredictable in how they use that insanity.
   But there are always exceptions to such rules.

   Within the clan Malkavian, a less than secret clique has existed over
   the past 500 years. They share a single group dementia which causes
   some Kindred to shake their head at the seeming lack of imagination,
   so distinctive in this clan. Those who try to study this group know
   that they are far from powerless, and are dangerous in their own
   right.

   Put simply, they as a group, individually and collectively, actively
   believe that they are Caine. They refer to themselves as the Children
   of Caine, and travel the world, seeking those interested in the
   Progenitor, and actively making their lives miserable. The Children do
   not discriminate in regard to politics. They equally terrorize the
   Camarilla, the Sabbat, the Inconnu; anyone curious enough to wonder
   how it all began is the target of their inquisitive nature.

   The response of the different factions is curious, to say the least.
   The Camarilla is angered by the intrusion of the Children in their
   cities (since the Children never feel the need to present themselves,
   and when they do, the answer is always the same: "I'm Caine), but the
   Children seem just as concerned about the preservation of the
   Masquerade. They will do nothing to embarrass Kindred in front of
   mortals, but will come very close to it at times.

   Because of the Path of Caine, the Children of Caine are revered,
   almost _worshipped_ by certain members of the Sabbat. With the
   influence of the Cainites, the Children can get away with just about
   anything. It is believed by the Cainites that the Children of Caine
   possess secret information regarding the First, and that anyone that
   harms a Child endangers the information. Which leads to the other
   significant factor: their virtual martyrdom. The Children tend to
   wander into dangerous areas, where their presence is neither desired
   nor needed. They seem to face hostility with a child's innocence, not
   understanding that they're angering those with which they speak. They
   have no fear of the most maniacal Sabbat, or the most powerful Prince,
   or even of the most omnipotent Antediluvian. This attitude has cause
   not a little fear amongst groups unfamiliar with such open-faced
   bravery.

   The history of the Children of Caine is as straightforward and
   convoluted as the Children themselves. Those who speak only do so
   after the scholar has been sent on a wild goose chase thousands of
   miles long and months in duration. In short, the petitioner must be
   able to show that she _really_ wants to find out the truth. Only after
   she has been taken past her breaking point, does the "true" tale come
   out.

   Their history, they say, begins with the history of Malkav and the
   Third Generation. The Second City was burning, the Third generation
   having taken their bloody vengeance out on the Second Generation.
   Those who survived howled in delight as the blood of their Elders
   soaked the streets. Then the door opened, and Caine awoke.

   The Third Generation froze in panic. They had hoped the First would
   sleep, and sleep long enough for the Third to rally their courage to
   take even him out. He walked past them, neither looking nor caring
   about the carnage that surrounded him. As he walked out of view, the
   Third, expecting to be killed, shook their head in confusion. It was
   time to leave, they said. Let the Old One wander into the pits of
   Sheol for all they cared.

   Not so Malkav. He had howled with his brethren all the same, but had
   read something mysteriously powerful in the face of his Grandsire.
   Something that haunted him, distressed him. He knew he could not rest
   until he knew what that secret was.

   And so he journeyed all over the world, follwoing in the spirit and
   the footsteps of the Wanderer. Whever he went, there were tales of the
   Sad One, who brought a small bit of suffering with his arrival, and
   left a small bit of bliss with his departure.

   At last, after years of fruitless searching, he came upon Caine. It
   was in the mountains, where the cold, hard rock provided little
   protection from the rising sun. It was suicide, following him up this
   far, but Malkav had to know.

   He found him on a rocky ledge. "Why have you followed me. Why have you
   become a partner to my suffering?"

   "When you left, I--I saw your face. It was-"

   "Sad? Pathetic? Boy, I don't need your pity. Leave this mountain while
   you can."

   "What do you know? I will not leave until I know it!"

   "You are willing to _die_ to learn the secret that destroys my soul?
   What kind of _fool_ are you?"

   "The worst kind. The inquisitive kind."

   And then the First...smiled. "Yes. You deserve something for your hard
   work. As _I_ was rewarded for my tilling of the fields. Very well, I
   tell you this. In that place, from where I slept, I finally have been
   given the vision of totality, of pasts, present, and futures. I know
   all the things I am responsible for, and all thing I cannot control. I
   _was_ going to climb up this mountain, and toss myself off, so that
   the secret would die with me. If such a fall could kill one such as
   myself. But I doubt it. It honestly never occurred to me that someone
   else would be interested. I am flattered."

   He held Malkav tightly, and whispered half the secret into his ear. It
   bled into his soul, and infected the blood which ran deep in his
   veins.

   "There. Now all your children will know a fraction of the mystery. It
   will run in your blood, and infect their souls as well. They will
   burrow deep within their psyches to escape the horror, but there is no
   escape."

   And then the First kicked the quivering mass of Malkav down the
   mountain, until he nestled in a crevice, safe from the sun's rays. He
   awoke...changed. Renewed. He passed through India, and made his first
   Progeny there. They used the madness wisely, enriching their
   existence.

   After thousands of years, after witch hunts and pogroms against their
   kind, a group of Malkavians, fifty in number, clustered together to
   talk of old times. The reason for the gathering mystified them one and
   all, until Kerwyn stepped forth.

   He was not a Malkavian, but rather a Brujah who had heard the legend
   of the secret. If it were true, each Malkavian possessed a fraction of
   that secret. Bring enough together, and perhaps someone could divine
   the secret from the mish-mash.

   The Malkavians were impressed. No one had ever sought to take them
   seriously before. They smiled at the thought. As a one, they decided
   to put his theory to the test, and submitted to his questions.

   One by one, Kerwyn reached into their minds, and uncovered that
   fraction of the secret. The moment it hit the conscious mind,
   something extraordinary happened. Their derangements evaporated when
   there was nothing left to hide.

   And finally it was done. The grand experiment completed, the
   Malkavians turned to Kerwyn. He shrugged mightily, and explained that
   it just didn't make any sense. Perhaps a bigger pool was necessary.
   Whatever the case, it was over.

   The Malkavians disagreed. It made perfect sense...to them. Once they
   began assimilating it all, the pieces started falling into place. They
   thanked Kerwyn, patting him on the back for his troubles. So demeaning
   were they, that Kerwyn began to lose his composure, and demanded to
   know what it was. They reminded the Brujah that it wasn't his place to
   know such things. Then, quite unexpectedly, they turned on him, and
   knocked him unconscious.

   According to the story, they then formed a circle, with Kerwyn at the
   center, and through his blood, summoned the First. He smiled at them
   warmly, and congratulated them for deciphering the first part. He then
   asked them if they were ready for the last. As a one, they replied,
   "No."

   The First was more than confused. "Why then was I awakened?" They
   pointed at the prostate form of Kerwyn. "He has awakened us, at much
   cost to himself. He wants to know the second part. We think he should
   know it."

   He bent low, and tasted Kerwyn's blood. It was, as they said, deep,
   rich, and inquisitive. "Very well. I will grant it unto him. Realize,
   however, that such knowledge will make you subservient to him."

   "We are but your Children."

   "Leave us now. You know my secrets, thus you know a secret part of me.
   Go in my name, and seek those who dwell in darkness."

   They left, to find others and to free their minds.

   The rest is speculation, based on what Kerwyn told his successor, and
   what his successor has told the successor, and so on. Caine walked to
   the form, and asked him if he wished to know the great secret. Kerwyn,
   licking his lips at the thought, agreed.

   "There _are_ burdens to such power."

   "I don't care! I've suffered so! Let me know!"

   And Caine told him. And Caine gave him. The blood, tricking from the
   source, was too much for Kerwyn's humble form. It ruptured and
   cracked, split apart. But theform that arose from it was mighty
   indeed. And at last, Kerwyn understood...



  THE CHILDREN OF CAINE



   Nickname: (Can't be repeated in a family mailing list)

   Appearance: Solitary figures of regal bearing. They walk with an air
   of sublimed defiance, as if the secrets that burn in their brains
   render a nimbus of glory about them. Most of the time, they are soft
   spoken, dressing in clothes only slightly out of fashion, as pleasant
   reminders of things past.

   Haven: No one really knows. They wander quite a bit, and yet seem to
   hang around specific locations. Many have tried to follow them home,
   only to lose them right before the dawn. It is believed that the
   Children operate a series of secret havens in several major cities,
   havens so well hidden that not even the Nosferatu know where they are.

   Background: Always Malkavians, usually those who are at the edges of
   psychosis (either hopelessly, dysfunctionally insane, or hardly crazy
   whatsoever).

   Character Creation: The Children value Mental traits above all, and
   have little need for the Physical.

   Clan Disciplines: Auspex, Presence, Intercourse (Note: Before 1721,
   the word intercourse meant precisely what communication meant, and
   visa versa. For some bizarre reason, almost overnight, the words
   switched meaning. The Children were directly responsible, but no one's
   sure quite why). After the awakening from Malkavian to Child, one of
   the most interesting transformations occur with the disciplines. All
   levels of Dominate are immediately transferred to Presence. Obfuscate
   is kept, but is seldom used. After all, you're Caine. Who do _you_
   have to hide from?

   Weaknesses: To become a Child is a very difficult thing indeed. It
   means opening your mind to all the things the Malkavians seek to hide
   from through insanity. Children have no derangement, but they do have
   a suicidal bravery, that the Truth they hold in their bellies will
   carry them through anything. Everytime a Rotschreck roll is made,
   failure means that the vampire will stay, no matter what the risk.
   Only through success is free will maintained. Of course, if nothing
   can be proved by staying, such as everyone else buggering off, and no
   one to save, the Child will simply wander off.

   Further, a Child, when asked, will always identify herself as Caine.
   She will seek to hide knowledge until the asker has been sufficiently
   tormented, and only then, when the petitioner has all but given up,
   will the information be told. All the while, she will drop hints that
   lead to greater questions.

   Organization: All Children roam the world, stopping in a place for a
   time, seeking those who desire information about Caine, and making
   their life miserable, as was Malkav's. They all show deference to
   their leader, the Inheritor, but dare never to mention his name in
   public. They will gather only when they sense that a candidate for
   Inheritor grows close.



  STEREOTYPES



   Nosferatu: Ah, cute kid. I told him, "Nos, if you keep making faces
   like that, one of these days, it's gonna stick."

   Tremere: Who's he? Don't you mean Salubri?

   Ventrue: Fussy eaters. Always pushy, too. Doesn't play well with the
   other children.

   Gangrel: What comes of letting them play too long outside. Sometimes
   thay don't like to come back in.

   Toreador: I knew we had problems when he _liked_ the piano lessons we
   made him take. What do I mean by we? Why me and his mother, of course.

   Brujah: Real hyperactive. Your best bet is taking a strap to their
   miserable hides once a day. They're so cute when they try to make you
   eat it afterwards.

   Quote: I'm Caine. Who the Hell are you?

   View Intercourse discipline.