Coteries

The Leading Coterie of Chicago's Anarch Movement Failure makes them stronger. It's not that Chicago's Anarchs celebrate their past failures, but they've put them in perspective. The last century held out the city as a tempting fruit, seemingly ripe for the taking in the face of embattled, disorganized governments. Schemes from Gary, war with the Lupines, and even coming within a night or two of apparent Gehenna all produced openings for the Anarchs, but none of them led to a revolutionary government. On the other hand, overthrowing the Camarilla, with its genteel salons and sneering elders, never had much appeal for a significant part of the Anarch Movement, which wanted autonomy more than revolution. The nights of the Anarch Revolt don't inflame the hearts of New World Kindred. A restructured Camarilla made the prospect of revolution even less tenable, as that body became a thing to which Kindred bootlickers aspired, instead of a pretend government for all. Like roses from shit, every failure to incite revolution fertilized a core movement toward autonomy. Maldavis failed to seize the throne, but the elders didn't burn the rest of the local Movement. Juggler gathered a crew for his own coup attempt nearly 30 years ago, and his failure produced minimal casualties, though it conveniently encouraged Juggler to stick to Gary, where he proclaimed himself Baron, threw his weight around for a few years, and more recently, disappeared. He was the last serious firebrand. In the shadow of these failures, other Anarchs managed to produce something enduring: The Center. It's got hardscrabble territory in East Chicago (not even in Illinois!), but it belongs to the Anarchs — indisputably. The Anarch Center's built something that might endure, and even thrive as wayward Kindred discover the Camarilla isn't handing out turf after a bow and recitation of the Traditions. They don't know if they care about taking Chicago so much anymore, but they sure don't want you to fuck up their growing stability. The "Anarch Center" isn't an official name — not yet, anyway — but it's the preferred polite term. The coterie spent a few years trying the "Baronate" out, but this turned out to resemble an Italian word for a collection of crooked schemes. Therefore, Jackson's people use it constantly.

In Chicago, it's more acceptable to drive a log through the Prince's heart or pop claws at a Cubs game than mess with Baby Chorus. The band is a fearsome political powerhouse and, simply, extremely good at playing. Baby Chorus is something special because regardless of its members' other interests, they're committed to the music above all. That sincerity appeals to all but the most coldhearted Kindred, and even true monsters often understand that without a redeeming feature like the band, Chicago's vampire subculture wouldn't be worth preserving in any form. Indeed, when Prince Jackson selected Damien to act as Sheriff, the main obstacle wasn't the vampire's former Anarch affiliations, but the possibility it would take him away from the band, which, after a lengthy hiatus, was coming back. The Prince had to publicly assure the court he would remain a member of Baby Chorus for as long as he liked. Baby Chorus' best music is almost unclassifiable, with countless genres orbiting a bright star of guitar-driven blues-punk fusion. The Chorus incorporates new musical forms as they arise, as if they belong to an eternal present, in a way that might only be possible for Kindred. Under Kathy Glens' leadership, the band pursues an artistic direction never before seen by Kindred or kine. Some of their songs require supernatural speed and precision to play, or have subtle elements that can only be appreciated by those who possess superhuman hearing. However, Baby Chorus is a working band, too. Experimental art satisfies what passes for a soul among certain, more refined, undead, but most of the people the band plays for want heavy blues rock with a gothic tinge. The Chorus has refused offers of full patronage by wealthy Kindred. They say music as labor is an essential part of their artistic process. Yes, the Chorus recently agreed to play the Succubus Club for the Prince, but that was part of the deal keeping Damien in and, after its dormant period, the band needed a pile of cash to reestablish itself. As a working band, Baby Chorus has always been highly successful, and as it returns to the local scene, promoters have discovered legends of the band's excellence are real. If most members weren't undead, they'd have a record deal, an international tour, merchandise, and music: the entire panoply of fame. That's not allowed. Famous performers cite Baby Chorus as an influence, and a few have even played with the band, though they don't discuss it in interviews. Everyone in the know understands the band plays the Chicago club circuit and a few private shows, and should be appreciated live, or through audio bootlegs the band secretly distributes itself. Recording the Chorus on a camera is a great way to get your ass kicked, though shows sometimes hit video-streaming sites anyway — and are taken down as soon as the band's very skilled agent notices. These recordings have never betrayed the nature of members, however, because another great way to get your ass kicked is to feed in and around a Chorus show, or get in a fight with another vampire. Nowadays, the band endangers the Masquerade the most through its longevity. The newly revived band's members look exceptionally well-preserved, even for musicians with the benefit of stage charisma and excellent lighting. Fans believe Kathy Glens is in her mid-50s now, but had work done. Damien runs with the band part time now. As a precaution, he wears sunglasses and a hoodie when he performs, changes up his stage patter, and goes by the stage name Cosmas. When they can get him, Evan Klein plays as...Evan K, successor to Ray Falcon. It works, for now.

### Give the City to the Dark Mother Erzulie does not take kindly to the mistreatment of the lowest Kindred castes. They are not soldiers, and none of them asked to be drafted into a sectarian war. Erzulie would not allow these Caitiff to be exploited. She created the House of Lilith, the first of the Kindred Drag Houses, in 1972. Erzulie claimed the goddess as her personal deity using the coded language and performance of ball culture to recruit and educate wayward Caitiff. She provided a lair when there was none. She began to minister to as many Caitiff as she could using the ball as a haven for wayward souls. She taught them how to feed, move among the humans, assimilate, blend in, and pass. Erzulie, in essence, became sire to these lost childer of the Kindred. With ball culture becoming the basis for the Blood Disco, Erzulie's events grew larger. It became difficult for her to operate without the Camarilla becoming aware of her actions. Rather than cease her activities, Erzulie decided to hide in plain sight, becoming a fixture of the new scene. The balls became not just about acceptance and freedom, but indulgence and fertility. Vitae and flesh were shared, the name of Lilith celebrated as the Mother who brought together all lost children. The first Blood Disco was held at Studio 54 on its opening night April 26, 1977. As Studio 54 grew in popularity, so did the Blood Disco. If there's one thing Toreador know how to do, it's throw a party. The bacchanal was a perfect cover for Erzulie's needs. It allowed for the continued organization of the Caitiff while the club's popularity kept her business safe from reprisals, as causing trouble at the iconic nightspot would threaten the entire Masquerade. The House of Lilith disbanded in 1980 with Erzulie telling her adopted childer to create houses of their own. They were to continue the mission of finding the abandoned and creating clans from the clanless. Erzulie's charge was to find a place where they could all gather once a year. She would contact them when she found such a place. Erzulie's search brought her to Chicago in 1982. It was at the Warehouse where she met Adze, the Nosferatu club owner, crime lord… And soul mate. The Blood Disco continued to grow as the phoenix of house music rose from the ashes of disco. Working with artists like Jamie Principle, Erzulie would use the 12" singles to send messages to her childer, now mothers of their own houses. She used the music as communication developing a secret language only her mother generals could decipher. The mothers would use the tools Erzulie gave them to organize and inform. The network spread with the music with Detroit, New York, and Los Angeles becoming hubs for this new information stream. Still, every year, the mothers would return to Chicago for the gathering of the tribe. It became a pilgrimage for many of the childer to catch a glimpse of the one who brought them together and gave them a sense of community, protection, and freedom. Erzulie, whom some now called the Mother-Above-All, has created an army threatening the Tradition of the Masquerade. Adze controls the flow of information between clanless and other outcasts — Ravnos, Camarilla Gangrel, and Anarch Ventrue among them — through his new venture, Red Noº 5. Together, they may well be the biggest threat the Camarilla face in Chicago. There may be some hope for the Camarilla assuming control of this operation. Some say Adze's heir apparent, Bennett Steadman, grows impatient with the chain of command and has designs to take the throne. Some say Erzulie and Adze are coming to a crossroads in their relationship, at odds with the direction of the Blood Disco. Others claim Francois Mamuwalde, Erzulie's favored Caitiff, might wish the Mother-Above-All title for herself. Then again, it is hard to say what is true and what is fiction. When it comes to the Blood Disco, all information is tainted. The Blood Disco was a three-night festival in Grant Park last year. Beginning at sundown, Kindred and humans mingled freely as five stages provided a canvas for the top DJs of house, techno, lo-fi and other music genres to paint sonic landscapes for which the audience can create their own stories. The high visibility of the event is a natural deterrent for violating the Masquerade. At the Grant Park event, blood flowed via seduction, bodies were shared to facilitate feeding, and celebration of the Dark Mother reached giddy heights. The only question tonight is where this year's venue might be. The Blood Disco is the city of Oz for the lost and the voiceless. Human or Kindred, gay or straight, Thin-Blood or Ventrue, everyone is the same at the Blood Disco. As Erzulie would say: "Gender, like blood, is fluid. We are all the children of Lilith."

Chicago's Tremere have never been especially wellliked, but in the old order of things they were considered essential. The clan was the Camarilla's authority on blood magic and the occult. The Tremere Pyramid ensured that every chantry was part of a coordinated effort to support the global Camarilla and . . . what else? There's the rub; half the Tremere's business was a secret, compartmentalized within its initiatory society. At the dawn of the 21st century, the Tremere's hidden schemes exploded into multiple conflicts. The sparsely populated Chicago Chantry was ill-equipped to deal with it. When the clan found itself in a conflict with Order of Hermes magi, the child vampire Nicolai sent Abraham DuSable to assist in the war effort. It was a way to dispose of a rival for power and increase his prestige in a court that treated him with contempt. Nicolai may have thought the clan would provide neonate underlings to replace DuSable and werewolf-victim Garwood Marshall. Instead, after years where Chicago's Chantry hosted only Nicolai and a gargoyle (Erichtho despised Nicolai and avoided him), the elders called him to Vienna — just before the Prime Chantry burned. Nicolai was presumed dead, and Abraham DuSable returned, much changed from his travels. With the clan divided, the Chantry remains nominally loyal to House Tremere and the remnants of the Pyramid, but members disagree on where the Chantry's ultimate loyalty should lie. DuSable and Erichtho form the nucleus of the current Tremere chantry, but barely tolerate one another because their philosophies and characters radically differ. DuSable is a traditionalist and amoral pragmatist; Erichtho sympathizes with Carna rebels and seeks enlightenment in Humanity. These differences aren't enough to separate them, however, as their mutual respect and shared knowledge makes them a powerful team. Recent arrival Sun Che stands between them. Each member has divergent interests, but a common devotion to the occult, and a deep appreciation of the powers and dangers it offers to initiates. Now Portia has returned to the Chantry after years of absence, and the others have yet to decide whether she's that threat personified or has come to aid them against other hidden enemies.

### The Governing Kindred of Chicago's Camarilla It's over. That's what Kevin Jackson, Prince of Chicago, wants you to believe. The power struggles. The Lupine invasions. Dreams of Gehenna. Weird and shadowy elders pulling the strings. Saber-rattling in Gary Fucking Indiana. Over. Done. Jackson is determined to make Chicago more than a stable Camarilla city. He wants it to be the standard-bearer for the New World Camarilla. This isn't because he has some idealistic commitment to the sect, but because one must deal with its European arrogance and oh-so-precious formalities from a position of strength. God didn't make the rules. Men and woman didn't even make them. Monsters did, for their own purposes. Among monsters, respect is the coin of the realm, more precious than blood. Yes, some of the things that are officially over, aren't — yet. But these are problems to be managed by a strong, steady hand, not left to fester according to the notion that Kindred left to each other's throats won't be able to challenge the leadership. Prince Jackson proved that was wrong. In the turmoil accompanying his rise, ambitious, destructive Kindred showed their true colors, but the Camarilla provided tools to deal with them. The new regime banished some of them, and in the case of a few others, declared that they'd never truly been initiated into the sect. Bending knee and reciting the Traditions just wouldn't cut it anymore. Jackson and his allies used the rise of the Second Inquisition, and dictates handed down from on high, to do a certain amount of housecleaning. The fact that no Ventrue holds a Primogen's seat is regrettable, but it demonstrates that Jackson is even-handed, unwilling to place his own clan before the cause of good government. Some of the regime's other actions have brought the Prince a degree of relief. He never had much use for occultists, especially after so many of them bought into the Gehenna craze, so keeping the Tremere at arm's length suits him fine. Yet many Kindred with mystical inclinations are old and strong, and much as Jackson hates to admit it, blood magic is real, so the Bahari, Tremere, and other eccentrics haven't been cast out so much as disinvited from the political nucleus. The "New Machine" is focused on political excellence over superstitions and old grudges — even the traditional rivalries between clans. Critias is essential, for example, regardless of stereotypical Brujah-Ventrue frictions. Ideally, the Government judges Kindred by their deeds — nothing more, or less. Speaking of deeds, Jackson has made it clear that in his view, negotiations with the Lasombra will make or break the city's reputation. Pulling this off is the Government's top priority, but there won't be time to rest afterward. There will always be the next project, designed to vault Chicago to the first position among American, then Western Camarilla, holdings. If a member of this coterie isn't willing to do the work, they're expected to get out if the way.

Destroyers of the Status Quo Fuck it all up. Fuck it all up before they fuck it up. If they've already fucked it up, fuck it up again into something better. That's the Nihilist agenda. For a long time, this wasn't a conscious political position. It disguised itself as "propaganda of the deed" committed for a worthy cause, or was submerged by a general rebellious anger, until the 21st century. That's when the world almost ended, but it didn't, and nobody got their comeuppance. To get something done right, sometimes you've got to do it yourself, even if that means killing Kindred, setting their stuff on fire, and maybe trying to ruin the world. Back in the 90s, the Nihilists were fringe Anarchs, setting fires and punching stuffed-shirt licks for liberty's sake. There was no plan, just action. That's the way Gengis, Dickie, and Damien liked it. Times change. Damien became Sheriff, for Christ's sakes! Gengis stuck around, but only to cultivate radical ties as part of his personal balancing act between true radicalism and the Anarch Center, which part of him still calls "social fascist" even though he's a member. He and Dickie still made the rounds with graffiti and pranks, but two people aren't a party. "Then," Gengis might say, "some really fucked up shit happened." First: Everybody thought the world was ending. That was a trip. Too bad it wasn't true. Second, Nathaniel Fucking Bordruff, former holy terror Anarch hunter, shows up, looking bloody under the weird red moon of those days, and tells Gengis and Dickie they were right, he was wrong, and it's time to "punish all the sinners." Third, Dickie left town, and came back with Sweetie Pepper, a Caitiff with some intriguing new fuck-shit-up concepts. That was the most normal part of it all. Then, fucking Balthazar, man. The Man, in fact. The old Sheriff, who they all used to fantasize about giving the ol' stake and bake. Jackson was in, Prince of Chicago, so Balthazar was way out. He joined up because of Bordruff, who he called a "fitting weapon." (Because even after they leave, Camarilla fucks just talk like that.) Yeah, the moment that happened, Gengis was kicked to the sidelines but he stuck around to keep an eye on it — and they wanted him to be their man in the Anarch Center. Dickie ran away or sunk into torpor. He was the smart one. Now shit has turned Old Testament. Bordruff's talking about a "new flood." Balthazar's still calling himself Sheriff, but of the "Kingdom to Come," though he says it with a twinkle in his eye. Sweetie Pepper's got lots of friends to bring the riot, and Gengis has to find some way to either get out, or turn this merry crew of psychopaths into something he can use.

Carnival coteries move from place to place, bringing the party with them. Where Nomads celebrate rootlessness, Carnivals strive to make an impression on mortals, Kindred, or both, depending on the coterie's style. Some Carnivals appeal to elders by providing deliberately anachronistic entertainments, recalling Dust Bowl circuses or further back, medieval troubadours. Others organize raves with cutting-edge music spun by six-figure-a-night DJs. Not all Carnivals are devoted purely to entertainment and the chance to feed, however. Their spectacles might include politics and theater or Cainite rites, hidden in plain sight. Domain: None Contacts: (•••) (fans in every town) Fame: (•••) (a wandering spectacle) Retainers: (•) (daylight help) Possible Extras: Allies, Herd (fans who follow), Resources

Corporate coteries exist to further the economic and territorial goals of their members. They use modern business methods, supplemented by the strongarm tactics and psychic manipulation members can bring to bear as Kindred. Corporate groups are either wracked with infighting or tightly organized in pursuit of their goals, with little room in between, as their selfish goals make or break members' social bonds. In modern nights, Camarilla traditionalists consider Corporate coteries gauche but useful, since they have the collective skills and resources to harness contemporary capitalism. Stereotype holds that Ventrue lead many of these coteries, but while it is true the clan has long functioned inside bourgeois institutions, the edifice of global capital is too large for any one clan to dominate. Domain: Chasse (•) and Lien (••) Influence: (••) (business community) Resources: (•••) (the portfolio) Possible Extras: Contacts, Herd (interns)

Flagellant coteries have a mocking name, given to them by Kindred who may or may not care about the plight of the kine, but don't go around being so publicly remorseful, or so desperate to make amends. Flagellant coteries try to redeem their members for the harm they visit upon mortals. The coterie sponsors charitable works, and individuals behave as good Samaritans and occasionally, as vigilantes, hunting down mortals who prey on their own. Most vampires have few objections to this sort of thing, but that changes when Flagellants go after other Kindred. The most extreme of these coteries may act as judge, jury, and executioner over vampires they believe mistreat the kine. Some coteries even abuse the Blood itself, treating the sick by feeding them vitae. Thus, the Camarilla keeps a close watch on these "kindly coteries." Domain: Chasse (•) and Lien (••) Allies: (•••) (mortals they've helped) Influence: (•) (local charity) Adversary: (••) (Flagellants almost always annoy a local Cainite) Possible Extras: Contacts, Loresheet (Golconda or some other reputed path to salvation), Retainer (nursed back to health with vitae)

These vampires are on the run. The Second Inquisition is after them. The Camarilla proclaimed a Blood Hunt upon them. Anarchs want to treat them to a stakeand-boot party. The pursuer may even be a single, potent vampire. Fugitive coteries keep low profiles, cultivate resources they can take with them or liquidate, and develop contingency plans for when their pursuers catch up with them. It's rare for every member of the coterie to be hunted. Instead, one or two Kindred on the run convince others to go with them due to bonds of love or camaraderie. In any case, Fugitive coteries survive or perish based on the bonds of loyalty members hold for one another. Domain: None Contacts: (•••) (help on the run) Mask: (••) (Cobbler; fake IDs available for members) Resources (••) (cash and a lightproof vehicle) Retainer (•) (daylight driver) Special: Fugitive coteries always have one or more Flaws related to whoever or whatever is pursuing them, such as Adversary, Enemy, or a Flaw such as Known Blankbody Possible Extras: Allies, Despised, Shunned, Loresheet (when being hunted because they know too much)

Many coteries are rumored to be Somnophiles, but the term is primarily used as a slur — as slang, it actually comes from the old days of the Sabbat, where loyalty to old, torpid elders was likened to a sexual fetish. True Somnophile coteries represent the oldest vampires, who may well sleep, but are just as likely to dwell in ancient labyrinths (as was the fad shortly after the fall of Rome), masquerade as younger vampires, or otherwise place multiple degrees of secrecy between themselves and modern Kindred. A Somnophile coterie's patron is often powerful enough to send messages through Disciplines, as omens or dreams, or have penetrated mortal institutions so completely they can relay messages through proxies that can never be traced back to their point of origin. Each coterie has its own reasons for obeying these hidden masters, from Bahari religious convictions to ambitious Kindred convinced their association will bring them power, as major players in the Jyhad. Domain: Chasse (•), Portillon (••) Loresheet: (••) (their master teaches them secrets) Mawla: (•••) (the somnolent or distant elder) Possible Extras: Allies, Retainers, Status (guardians of an esteemed vampire)