Undeniably the youngest of the major Kindred covenants, the Carthians are fire-eyed reformists, eager to bring the establishment to its knees if that’s what it takes to facilitate positive political change. If the unbound are the irritable loners and individualists, then the Carthians are their politically motivated counterparts, the Young Turks who seek to shake up the status quo with the honesty of their passion and the ingenuity of their ideas.
Due to the prevalence of young Kindred in the modern age, the Carthian Movement sees quite a bit of support worldwide.
Few vampires outside the Circle of the Crone have anything even approaching a complete understanding of the group’s secretive beliefs and behaviors. As a covenant, the Circle is as devoted the Carthians, more tightly organized than the Invictus, and as often as not, more feared and misunderstood than the Lancea Sanctum and the Ordo Dracul. For many neonates, these mysterious Kindred are the “bogeymen” of vampire society — those who gather in sequestered cabals, where they practice ancient and eldritch rites in reverence to bloody gods and goddesses of cultures forgotten or shunned. These are the vampires about whom elders warn their childer: the political outcasts, iconoclasts and, to some, heretics of the Damned.
The First Estate
Power comes from Age and Tradition. We are the Lords and Masters of the Requiem, a place we deserve.
To members of the Lancea Sanctum, the self-proclaimed heralds of undead morality, their origin defines everything they are and everything they do. Indeed, the modern sobriquet “Sanctified,” by which the covenant is sometimes known, incenses many elders and traditionalists of the covenant, who prefer to use the Latin “Lancea Sanctum” when referring to the collective covenant. They are the religious and even moral backbone of the Kindred, yes, but they are also self-appointed priests and inquisitors. The most inhuman of an inhuman race, they exalt the role of predator. Universally respected yet universally feared, this covenant constantly seeks power over all Kindred everywhere, not for political rule, as the Invictus does, but to enforce the dictates, attitudes and even thoughts that they believe have been handed down to them from their originator Longinus, and by extension from God Himself.
The catechism of the Lancea Sanctum is that they are the ideological descendants of the Roman centurion who used his spear to prod Christ on the cross. According to the covenant’s dogma, some of Christ’s blood dripped onto the soldier, and this blood gave the centurion eternal life. It also carried with it, however, divine retribution, and though Longinus’ act revealed Christ’s divinity, it did so after an act of faithlessness on the soldier’s part. Thereafter, Longinus was cursed to live eternally, but he could walk only at night and subsist only on the same blood that had proved his undoing. As the creation myth blends into covenant philosophy, vampires are a form of “original sin,” though God allows them to exist, and indeed even charges them with the task of representing the risks of His divine displeasure.
Damnation is a state that may be overcome. We reject our limits and, through study and experiment, rise above them.
Covenants are a strait-jacket. Too many rules, too many contradictions. To be unbound is to be free, free from obligation, free from hierarchy, but also free from the protections of a Covenant.