                                   LAMIAE



   by Allen B. Ruch (12 May 93)

   The Lamiae are a new bloodline, a cross between demon and vampire,
   muse and succubus. I am indebted to the great author Tim Powers for
   the idea. If you haven't read his novel, The Stress of her Regard , I
   heartily recommend it to you. It is a vampire story like no other...

   The clan is not really intended to be a character clan, but is more
   for the Storyteller or to create atmosphere.

  LAMIAE




                  She was a gordian shape of dazzling hue,
                  Vermilion-spotted, golden, green, and blue;
                  Striped like a zebra, freckled like a pard,
                  Eyed like a peacock, all crimson barred;
                  And full of silver moons, that, as she breathed,
                  Dissolved, or brighter shone, or interwreathed
                  Their lustres with the gloomier tapestries -
                  So rainbow sided, touched with miseries,
                  She seemed, at once, some penanced lady elf,
                  Some demon's mistress, or the demon's self.
                                       -John Keats



   The Lamiae are a bloodline of vampires that exist outside all rules of
   the Kindred; be it the Camarilla, the Sabbat or the Inconnu. In many
   ways more demon than vampire, they have remained aloof from the ranks
   of the Kindred, maintaining a secrecy and mystery that intrigues and
   mystifies the Kindred much in the way they themselves are beheld by
   mortals.

   The Lamiae are exclusively female, and it is believed that there are
   no more than between three and nine of them in existence. No one knows
   how they engender their race - for they do not feed on the mere blood
   of a mortal, but upon his very life-essence, and these mortals
   invariably perish or commit suicide. This has lead to speculation that
   they are truly immortal, and either unable or unwilling to beget
   progeny. Simply put, a Lamia will target a mortal and form a
   supernatural bond with this intended "lover." Once the bond is
   sanctified by a marriage ritual, the mortal begins to die. The Lamia
   begins the process of slowly draining the life-force from her target -
   a process that may take up to decades. This unholy matrimony, while
   obviously ultimately destructive, grants a tremendous boon to her
   lover, for to be wed to a Lamia is to be in the permanent graces of a
   muse. From the bond with the Lamia springs forth a font of divine
   inspiration, a creative flow that floods the lover and causes him to
   produce poetry and prose that far exceeds his previous work. Another
   benefit to the lover, of course, is the rapturous act of feeding.
   Unlike other vampires, a Lamia loses only one blood point a week, so
   she needs to drink less often than her vampiric cousins. When she does
   feed, it is always with her mortal lover - and the act of feeding is
   erotically charged far beyond the sphere of any mortal sex. These twin
   addictions - the wellspring of inspiration and the dark bliss of
   sexual fusion - are enough to ensure t hat her lover will cleave to
   her scaled bosom . . . until death does him part.

   When a Lamia initially targets a mortal, she'll make her first
   appearances in his dreams. Series after series of erotic dreams, many
   containing serpent imagery, continue to rise in intensity until the
   intended lover often feels he's going mad. Soon after the dreams
   begin, exhausting periods of inspiration will fill his waking hours,
   and he'll glimpse the potential of unlimited creativity, his work
   hitting new heights of inventiveness, skill, and lucidity. Soon after
   this, the Lamia chooses a night to visit the mortal, and during a
   dream she manifests and feeds. It is in these throes of passion that
   she reveals herself for what she really is, often taking on
   half-serpent form. If she can get the (by now half-mad) mortal to pla
   ce a gold ring upon her finger, the pact is sealed.

   Soon after that, the full effects of the "marriage" begin to be felt.
   While the spring of inspiration flows freely, her lover's body begins
   to deteriorate. Depending on his normal state of health, it may take
   from a few months to a few years for the first effects of ill health
   to be felt. Commonly these debilitating effects are consumption,
   blindness, and/or insanity. (The latter affliction leads some to
   speculate that the Lamiae and the Wissengeist are related.) While her
   lover may be completely aware of the reason for his decay, more than a
   few consider the combination of inspiration and sexual passion to be
   worth their early death. What usually causes a mortal the most pain is
   the Lamia's insufferable jealousy.

   A Lamia will never have more than a single lover, and they are jealous
   to the extreme, often to the point of willfully destroying her lover's
   mortal relationships. While marriages to a mortal wife have been
   permitted, the Lamia periodically attempts to stir things up as much
   as she can. Sometimes, this is carried to the point of injury or
   death, and in rare cases the Lamia will persecute her lover's family
   for several generations. It is usually this jealous lashing out at his
   loved ones that causes a Lamia's lover to regret the marriage. . . .

   Upon death of her mortal lover, the Lamia is forced to assume serpent
   form for seven years. This period - called the Widowing - is often
   spent grieving her lost lover, but her astral body is free to roam the
   earth, seeking out a new lover to court, or sometimes mercilessly
   haunting her dead lover's family.

   Breaking a marriage with a Lamia is possible, but very difficult.
   Legend has it that there are only a precious few ways to sever the
   bond. The most common story is that of a magic fountain or well,
   located high in the Alps and kept well-hidden. Drinking from its
   waters will dissolve the marriage. Another story tells of a spear of
   white gold deep in the Amazon which can shatter the wedding ring.
   Other rumors exist on how to break the vow, most of them involving
   near-impossible acts or arcane artifacts. One of the Dead Sea Scrolls
   supposedly relates that a flower grows once every century, each time
   in a different part of the world. Plucking this flower will break the
   vow. Standing in the shadow of a virgin harlot cast against the
   Wailing Wall will also free a mortal from the Lamia, as will finding
   the r ight letter amongst all the books in the Library of Alexandria.
   Of course, there is always suicide.

   A Lamia who is divorced, whether through magic or suicide, is forced
   to grieve as a spurned wife for seven times seven years, so one can
   see that the Lamia wish to keep the secrets of divorce we ll hidden. .
   . .

   Not all vampires are completely aware of the Lamia, but belief is
   exceptionally strong among the Toreador, the Tzimisce and the
   Assamites. Of all these, the Tzimisce seem to know the legends best.
   When a Lamia is found, it is an unwritten rule to leave her and her
   mortal lover alone. The consequences of breaking this sanction are
   unknown, but it says something that the Tzimisce follow it without
   question.

   Many believe that the myth of the Muses has its origin in the Lamiae,
   and there are some which contend that the number of Lamia are nine:
   Euterpe, Terpsichore, Thalia, Melpomene, Polyhymnia, Urania, Clio,
   Erato, and Calliope. Others feel that there are too many
   inconsistencies between the Muse myths and the Lamiae; and still
   others conjecture that the Lamiae are the twisted children of the
   Muses. There are of course the actually legends of Lamia, Mormo, and
   Empusa - Greek demigods with shapechanging ability, and it seems
   obvious that the Lamiae formed the basis for tales of Succubi as well.
   Another theory, put forth by a Tzimisce priestess from the Fifteenth
   Century, is that as Vampires are the children of Cain, Lamiae are the
   children of Lilith - Adam's first wife before Eve. If this is true, it
   means that the Lamiae actually predate the Kindred.



                       O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend
                       The brightest heaven of invention!
                                    -William Shakespeare
                                     Henry V



   Exactly what effect the Lamiae have had on the literary world
   throughout history is hard to say. They invariably choose writers and
   poets, but no one is sure of their criteria. It seems obvious that
   Keats, Shelly and Byron were no stranger to their seductive lure, but
   many Toreador feel that Byron was "divorced" in the Alps. Legend has
   it that Milton also fell prey to a Lamia, creating Paradise Lost as he
   went blind; but afterwards he freed himself using a fragment of the
   True Cross. And remember that Homer, too, was blind.

   Authors, too, are not immune to their charms. The Tzimisce claim to
   have a series of letters written by Franz Kafka, letters he intended
   to destroy, letters that deal with his seduction by a mysterious woman
   he calls die Lorelei, a magical temptress which he several times
   refers to as das Schlangeweib - or the "serpent-wife." The letters
   indicate that in 1913, upon writing The Judgment, his abilities took a
   sharp rise . . . and in 1917 he was found consumptive. He ended his
   life, after a series of heart breaks and affairs, in a sanitarium.

   Kafka is certainly not the only recent victim of the Lamiae. James
   Joyce, with his turbulent relationships, family misfortune and
   prolonged eye problems is said to have had Lamiatic inspiration - also
   a good explanation for the progress of his work from Dubliners through
   Ulysses and finally to the mad genius of Finnegan's Wake, a work Carl
   Jung believed to be written to stave off impending schizophrenia. And
   Jorge Luis Borges, the Argentinian fantasist, found that his work
   entered new realms of creativity only after a head injury brought him
   close to death and madness . . . and therein met the Lamia? Given the
   labyrinthine nature of his later work, his eventual blindness, and his
   death in Switzerland . . . could he have been seeking out the fountain
   that Byron found?

   Nickname: Muses, Succubae

   Appearance: The Lamia have three forms: that of a normal woman, a
   glittering serpent, and a woman with a serpent's body. In serpent
   form, she is scaled in vermilion and patterned brightly, a lush snake
   that twines with sexual promise and Freudian eroticism. In human form,
   she is a beautiful enchantress, appearing as if she'd stepped from the
   innermost desires of her intended lover. Her eyes burn like hot
   sparks, her hair borders on the wildly animate, and her lips are full
   and heavy with ripe sensuality. Still, it is said that the half-woman,
   half-serpent form is the most alluring guise of the Lamia; a sensuous
   woman's body extends from a powerful serpent's trunk, and often
   glowing wings sweep out from the Lamia's back. Her breasts and torso
   are perfectly formed, and in sex she is as irresistib le as a cyclone.
   In human form, a Lamia will dress on the bohemian edge of the current
   style, always conscious of fashion, but willing to show a slight
   contempt for it as well. In any age, she would hardly be called
   proper. . . .

   Haven: A solitary and reclusive bloodline, it is not known where the
   Lamiae tend to lair, although the Toreador contend that they dwell in
   the shadow lands between the Silver Realm and the Faerie.

   Background: As mentioned, the Lamiae select a mortal intended and
   visit them in dreams, slowly allowing their power to manifest. Upon
   their "engagement" night, they manifest in an erotic incarnation,
   explaining their existence and purpose as a muse; conveniently failing
   to mention the long-term physical effects of their love. Once the
   intended realizes that his new-found creativity will vanish with the
   Lamia, the placement of the gold wedding ring is almost a certainty.
   If the mortal refuses, the Lamiae will never visit him again.

   Character Creation: It is not known how or even if the Lamia create
   progeny, as they seem to eventually kill all their lovers.

   Clan Disciplines: Protean, Vicissitude, Succubae

   Weaknesses: The Lamia are bound to their lovers with a supernatural
   intensity. If that lover commits suicide or finds a way to break the
   marriage, the Lamia will revert to serpent form and spend forty-nine
   years in a painful limbo. They are also sensitive to cold iron and
   salt, both able to cause aggravated wounds.

   Organization: According to the Tzimisce, there are only a few Lamiae:
   between three and nine is the usual number given. They have no known
   organization.

   Quote: "There is no eternity , my beloved, but what springs from the
   seeds of your work. And I, I am your muse. I am your love, your wife,
   your mistress; and, yes my love, in the dark hours when the wind
   whispers doubts into your ears, I am your goddess and possessor."

   What the Undead think of the Lamiae:

   Nosferatu: They are a myth, children. Like that of Cain and Abel, and
   like that of the muses themselves.

   Ventrue: The Lamia are probably legendary, and if not, they are more
   akin to demon than Kindred.

   Toreador: Splendid! Of course they exist; and we must be thankful that
   these muses do not lay claim more mortal artists than they do. It is
   such a shame that we lost those few, precious jewels to them, but it
   is not our place to mourn what could have been. . . . Most likely,
   they are a bloodline of our own clan.

   Gangrel: They are old; but not of our ilk. They are closer to demon
   than vampire, eh?

   Brujah: Foolish tales to be told by Sabbat elders. Daughters of
   Lilith, indeed! It is as ludicrous as the stories of Cain. If you ask
   me, it seems just another excuse to attribute all mortal creativity to
   the Toreador Clan.

   Tremere: Ahh. . . . the Muses. Well, Calliope and Erato were never
   accounted for, were they? Oh, I'm sorry. Ignore me, please. . . .

   Malkavian: What? Am I being interviewed? Oh . . . well, of course I
   believe in them! I mean, it all makes perfect sense . . . doesn't it?

   Ravnos: There are old tales; and I do recall once a poet - a haggard,
   haunted man - begging us to reveal the location of some magical gypsy
   salt cellar. Claimed it was filled with a pinch of Lot's Wife, he did.
   At the time, I thought it was an odd thing to need for a divorce.

   Assamite: There are older things than the Muses.

   Giovanni: This is something best left alone. It does not concern us.

   Lasombra: The Tzimisce have declared them to be real, and what's more,
   to be off limits. I have never encountered one, of course, but if they
   are indeed the ancient daughters of Lilith, ultimately they are our
   enemies.

   Tzimisce: They are not Kindred; but older. Older than Cain are the
   children of Lilith, the ardat lili. Some say she was the true mother
   of Cain, and that she bore Adam one hundred children every day until
   her fall and the coming of Eve. I wonder, how is it like for them? To
   be so old, and so very few. . . .

   View Succubae discipline.
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