"THE SCORNED MAGICIANS."

A Hermetic mage in eighth century Romania, Tremere was the leader of cabal of magick users rightfully feared for their obsession with knowledge and power. Able to prolong his life unnaturally for centuries, his powers eventually lessened and his grip on youth became shaky. Unable or unwilling to accept his own mortality, Tremere cast his eyes on the hallowed secret of immortality. In his greed, the mage instigated the most terrifying magickal experiments ever conducted, damning himself and his followers to a hell of their own making. Thousands of mortals were murdered and hundreds of Kindred vivisected and drained in ritual circles before Tremere and his cultists thought they had found the elixir of life. How surprised they were to have discovered the curse of Caine. Terrified, they died and woke again to an eternity of unlife and hunger, cut off from their craft.



In a mockery of their former magickal rituals, now only fresh blood allows the Tremere to cast their thaumaturgic spells to twist reality. “Allow me to call to order this meeting of minds. We must discuss the kinds of mortals who are brought into the fold on this and future nights.” Schrekt eyed his two counterparts across a triangular-shaped table. The room in which they sat existed in three places at once. “Herr Schrekt, I do not believe our practices have changed overmuch. We still Embrace only the most brilliant minds, and those already attuned to the occult. While my house does target subjects with less restrictive morals than yours, I can assure you that we will not be granting immortality to the undeserving.” The representative for House Goratrix concluded his statement, leaning back into the shadows. Schrekt stared across the table at his counterparts. If the choice had been without consequence, both would be snuffed out without hesitation. Unfortunately, they served a purpose. He knew because his Blood told him it was so. He turned to the woman at the other corner. “And House Carna?” Carna ran her right forefinger over the palm of her left hand as she spoke. “Our house rejects the old ways shaped by men, and seeks pagans, witches, and chaos magicians who look to the future. For the sake of our clan’s survival, we must cast our net wider. Now that the old bonds wither, and your house is one of the last keeping with the regimented structure of the Pyramid, I see no reason to cling to tradition.” Schrekt clenched his jaw without realizing it, his fists balling. “You would abandon centuries of tradition on a schismatic whim? How is it that House Tremere finds more in common with House Goratrix these nights?” Carna shrugged without looking up. “That sounds like a problem, Karl. One you need to address. Note that House Carna is still Camarilla, for the time being at least.” Her head facing her hands, her eyeline flicked upward, and her gaze connected briefly with his. “You have heard the same voices we have. Neither of us is wrong. We must be permitted to pursue our paths separately and come together when the time is right.” Schrekt smiled unconvincingly. The representative from House Goratrix vanished. “Just you and I now. Are we really going to fill our clan with amateur tarot readers, women who dawdle with tea leaves, and spiritualists? We were a noble clan.” Carna faded away, her voice softly following. “We were never noble. Our clan consists of mortals who sought power they didn’t deserve. Perhaps it’s time we Embrace those who love magic for its own sake.” After the Second Inquisition destroyed the Prime Chantry in Vienna in 2008, the Tremere fell from gray eminences to personae non gratae in many regions. The arrogance of the Pyramid had made the Usurpers few friends. But the need for sorcery has not disappeared; if anything, it grows as the cursed Blood shifts in the veins of the Kindred.



Without the Pyramid ordering them into rank and value, the warlocks find themselves competing with their fellow Kindred and, increasingly, with each other for anything that might allow them to regain some of their former power. A clan-wide chase for artifacts and grimoires belonging to their ashen ancestors rival the social intrigues in ugliness, and the alliance with the Camarilla is an oft-used weapon between the houses of Clan Tremere. Meanwhile, the term “mercenary magus” is becoming increasingly widespread, as warlocks who were formerly Bound by the will of their masters find themselves free to serve for whatever price they choose.



Tremere serve in three ways: the Warlocks serve the other clans with occult expertise, they serve the Camarilla with Blood Sorcery, and they serve themselves with their missions to grasp power. Though more Tremere ascend to praxis these nights than ever before, they still claim fewer thrones worldwide than Clan Nosferatu. In truth, most Warlocks acknowledge that becoming the Prince is only useful if it helps them expand their knowledge. Tremere see true power as knowing the ways of shaping the world, having access to the right blood, and owning the rarest of ancient artifacts.



As the Tremere ally with confused coteries seeking them out, hunt for well-protected relics and artifacts, or closely analyze fragments of lore relating to the Cainite mythos – all the while miserly guarding their secrets from each other – they are all united in their thirst for knowl - edge. A Kindred who wishes to understand a piece of their history will do well to approach the Tremere for answers, as long as they are at peace with sharing a few secrets of their own – knowingly or otherwise.

AUSPEX - BLOOD SORCERY - DOMINATE