Everything

–Elvis Presley

Songbird

“Sing for me, my little songbird,” he commanded.

“When are you letting me out?” replied Eloise.

“Again,” he said.

“No,” she replied.

“You will do as you are told!” shouted Byron, more desperately than he expected.

“Sing for me!” shouted Byron desperately.

Eloise stepped closer to the bars. “Kneel for me, and I might,” she whispered.

Byron slowly sank to his knees. “Please,” he murmured.

Overture

Where did we come from? I’m told it’s one of the mysteries of the modern age. All I know are the stories that my sire told me, and her sire told her. Perhaps my sire was the original; perhaps we’re actually all just Toreador with a special skill. I can’t tell you the truth, as valuable and as elusive such a thing is among us. But I can tell you what I was told, even though it will grant you more questions than answers in the long run.

One of the tales involves three sisters. They all had incredible voices and talent, enough to interest several vampiric Clans. One was embraced by the Toreador, another by the Ventrue, and the third by the Malkavians. However, the divisions of Clan could not keep them apart, and against the orders of their elders they met in secret. Unfortunately, the elders rarely reward disobedience, and each was punished severely.

However, instead of coming to heel, each punishment only made the sisters more determined and cunning. Together, they began to plot a way to escape their Clans and be together. So they started sharing not only their skills but their blood, hoping to bind themselves even more than before. As time passed, they began to grow together, and the ties to their sires gradually weakened. They found new skills and developed new powers as they became more than the sum of their parts. Those they sired claimed that legacy as Daughters of Cacophony.

There are three different stories about their end. In one, they all became like the Toreador, and were so fixated by the harmony they could produce. It is said they became lost one day in a single perfect note and remain frozen forever, listening to a song they cannot stop singing. Another tale blames the Malkavian blood, saying they became crazed by constant music and developed a hatred of it. They sought out musicians and slaughtered them until Clan Toreador captured them. They scream nightly in some deep dungeon to stop the music that only they can hear. The Ventrue tale is simpler. It is said they simply developed a taste for each other’s blood. Nothing else would grant them sustenance, so they fell upon each other, and the victor has held the other two prisoners as her personal supply for centuries.

Are any of those stories the truth? I cannot tell you. Perhaps there is a grain in them. But how can you believe one tale when even the stories of our origin in the Victorian era is a lie? It is true that era was a golden age for us. Music halls and theatres could be found in every town. Indeed, competition for the greatest acts was rife, and in an age without television, radio, or phonographs, the people clamored to hear our song. That is not to say such demand had never been the case before. For hundreds of years previously, the wealthy had considered music a valuable accomplishment and entertained each other with song after dinner. But the Victorian age was not just an age of music, it was an age of the performer. We captured hearts from the stage, be it in the charm of the music hall or the drama of the opera.

In the center of the British Empire, new entertainments and musical styles flooded into the capital. Music evolved, shifted, and birthed new movements, a concerto of sound reaching across the ages.

But my sire was born long before this era. Centuries before, hidden as a weapon by an organization few even knew the existence of: the Tal’Mahe’Ra.

The Orchestra of the Black Hand

I am told we were conceived as a weapon originally, although there are again several different stories. Sometime after the fall of Rome, there was a plan to create a small cadre of Toreador who might infiltrate the Camarilla. They were to sing and perform for the cream of vampire society and gently nudge them towards insanity. It was to be a slow descent, as each high ranking Kindred became more and more erratic. By the time anyone realized what had happened and moved to replace the insane leaders, the Camarilla would already be in tatters.

So the Tal’Mahe’Ra assembled some of their best Toreador singers, performers so talented that every Elysium would want them. Then the Sect found a Malkavian to teach them their powers. But it appears things did not go entirely to plan. Some say the Toreador learned too much, while others say it was not enough. Either way, anyone with any sense should have realized that adding a Malvavian to any plan was going to take things in an unexpected direction.

Years became decades, then centuries, and for all the training, controlled Embraces, and manipulation, the Tal’Mahe’Ra was never entirely happy with what we had become. By the Renaissance we were something new, but we were too different to do the job we were designed for. One arm of the Sect wanted us destroyed on principle, as a loose end. Other, more pragmatic voices insisted there must be a use for us somewhere. As you might imagine, we did not get a vote.

Broken Instruments

Left to our own devices, some of us quietly found ways to slip from Tal’Mahe’Ra control. We were careful not to reveal ourselves or betray our origins. Of all the Sects, the Tal’Mahe’Ra is the least forgiving with those who can’t keep quiet. Many of us made a living as traveling entertainers among the wealthy. Few Kindred thought of us as anything more than clever Toreador, and our itinerant nature kept too many from asking about our lineage.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t keep quiet for long. The music that is our constant companion needed to be free, and as the drawing rooms gave way to music halls and theaters we stepped

into the light. We knew the dangers, but we were like moths to a flame. We could offer our voices to hundreds, and we sang. It was beautiful and glorious. But as you might expect, people began to notice that we were different. Questions were raised, and Princes called upon us to explain ourselves.

Luckily, we keep our secrets well. The oldest Daughters remained among the Tal’Mahe’Ra, while only the youngest had been forgotten and slipped through the cracks. On the whole, these childer knew almost nothing of their origin, and those who did stayed quiet. The Tal’Mahe’Ra watched silently, ready to slaughter those of us who revealed too much. A sword of Damocles rested over our entire bloodline. But we remained discrete. We had no interest in politics, and that was enough for us to be left alone. We sang for Princes and they allowed us to stay, even entreated us to join Camarilla society.

So it eventually became time to make a deal. The Tal’Mahe’Ra didn’t want us, and the Camarilla did. We made a pact with our old masters that we would never share their secrets, and in turn they would allow us to exist. Sires would tell nothing to their childer of the Tal’Mahe’Ra, and myths would be allowed to grow in place of truth. Some of us stayed with the Tal’Mahe’Ra, including many of our original elders. Those of us who know of our origin know that if we share the tale, our eldest will be the first to pay the price. Some of us share the truth with those we trust. We are, after all, still Kindred, and anyone who trusts a Kindred to keep their word is a fool. But on the whole, we keep the secret; the stakes are too high not to.

There is one thing about the tale that always makes me wonder. As much as we were part of a plan to destroy the Camarilla, the Tal’Mahe’Ra had another scheme to destroy the Sabbat. The Sword of Caine is no less dangerous or smaller a threat to their secrecy and agenda. So there must have been another failed experiment. I often wonder what might have happened to that, if it existed, and if some other bloodline out there is, in truth, our sisters.

Our Own Song

As the Victorian age gave way to the new era of technology and science of the modern age, we have remade ourselves anew. Seen one way, we are a forgotten remnant of a failed experiment; in another light, a new butterfly freed from a cocoon. We can make our own choices at last, carve our own destiny. We are at last able to ask the important question – what do we want?

The modern age has taken something from us, though. The music halls are mostly gone in an age of recorded music. Some of us can bring our powers to bear on recorded media, but even those who can still yearn for the thrill of performing

in front of a live audience. It is true there are huge stadium concerts where we might sing to thousands, but with that comes a dangerous level of fame, more than enough to uncover our true nature. So we have had to remain small and quiet, playing to late night audiences in exclusive places. Many of us have found a home of sorts among the Toreador, who of all the Clans respect our abilities the most.

So on one hand we have changed so very much. We have gained our freedom — not hard won but quietly slid out from the clutches of a sleeping giant’s hand. We have made a place for ourselves and found a neutral niche among the politics of the Damned. But on the other hand, we are as we have always been. Like music, we adapt and gain new melodies, but the essential nature of what we are remains as it has done for hundreds of years. We, like the music, are eternal.

Now, the Camarilla has become our home of a sort, which I sometimes wonder might have been the Black Hand’s plan all along. But we take no power there. To rise too high or pledge too much loyalty might bring the ire of the Tal’Mahe’Ra on all of us, and while those of us bound to the Camarilla hope they would protect us from our old associations, we realize it is a feeble hope at best. A great many of us remain independent of any Sect. Better to risk

unlife alone than forever feel like the pawn of an ancient indoctrination. When I think about this, I am always concerned that fear has made too many of our choices.

But, we are as safe as we can be, so the song continues. You might believe me, or you may not. I am a liar like everyone else. By all means share the story as you will, and if one day you disappear, then I’ll finally know my sire was telling me the truth.

The Modern Aria

Wherever we came from, we are here now. While many consider us a limited form of bastard Toreador or Malkavian, I prefer to think of myself as a specialist. However, anything that ensures we remain in the shadows suits us well. Let the others fight for power and glory; we have what we want already. We have music, and that is all any of us could really ask for.

The Fugue

Unlike other Clans and bloodlines, we Daughters do not suffer a particular curse. However, the gift we refer to

as “The Fugue” might still be considered a weakness. Put simply, we constantly hear music. The tune is different for each Daughter. Some of us hear violins, some an orchestra, some pounding drums, and a few a chorus of screams. Each Fugue is unique to the Daughter who hears it, and while it has driven some of us mad, it is always beautiful in its own way.

No one knows with any certainty why we hear this music. But the most popular theory is that we are connected in a way to the heartbeat of humanity. We are the children of blood and rhythm, and so it makes sense that we might hear the pulse of blood through the veins of the kine. This music is not easily translated into a single beat. There are billions of people in the world, each with their own cadence. Each is their own instrument in a vast orchestra that we each hear only a small refrain from. Each Daughter’s Fugue shows something of her connection to the kine, her feel for their blood and the song it sings in their veins.

Banshees

Maybe it’s our alleged Malkavian heritage or maybe hearing music all the time is enough, but sometimes we lose it. Now, plenty of us have problems. You don’t live forever and not gather a few issues. But every now and again, some of us fall apart in the worst way. We’re not talking a few days of counseling; we’re talking lost on the moors batshit crazy.

We call these Daughters “Banshees,” and it is easy to see why. They have become slaves to the Fugue. The music inside them has taken control to such a degree that there is nothing left of who they were. They become lost souls, constantly singing the only song they know. Unfortunately, that song is not only a danger to them. Banshees use all their power to kill anything that crosses their path. They are raving maniacs, and the only way to stop them is to put them down permanently.

Deeper Notes

I suppose we should address the issue of men within our bloodline. We have been accused of all kinds of conspiracies to keep men from our secrets. Many believe our powers can only be commanded by women, or that we slaughter the men who learn our techniques. Some even suggest we secretly plot the ascendance of women among all the Clans, and that our very name is proof of this. As usual, the truth is far simpler.

We don’t hate men, or even refuse to Embrace them. Every now and then, a girl needs a little bit of bass, after all. However, we began as a sisterhood, and most of us just

like it that way. In our experience, too many men try to dominate and control whatever they are part of. Those of us born before the modern nights just weren’t willing to hand over what we had so easily.

There are also practical reasons we tend not to take on male childer. Most of our power comes from our voices, and it’s easier to train someone with the same vocal range. Men and women often require different vocal techniques to make the best of their voice. What works well for a soprano might not be so good for a tenor or bass. So where men are Embraced, they tend to have a range similar to their sire. A soulful jazz songstress might find a man’s vocal range closer to her own, where another sire might pick a young boy soprano or castrato as her apprentice. But times change, and these days, a few men who get past their privilege and play fair are allowed to join us. So we do allow men to be Embraced, although it happens rarely.

However, we have no plans to change our name or make a point of inviting more men to even the balance. Just as so many women have had to be better to get ahead in a man’s world, we hold the men we Embrace to a higher standard. Some like to call themselves the “sons of discord” just to assuage their vanity, but I know a French daughter who insists we are “Les Chanteuse du Mal,” and we’re not changing to that either. There is no sub-bloodline or secret sect of men. If any of our childer have a problem being known as Daughters of Cacophony, maybe eternity isn’t for them.

Factions

We may not be especially numerous, but there are still groups and factions of our bloodline in the world. However, we often tend to avoid our own company too much. Part of the reason we have managed to remain neutral is that we are not perceived as a threat. When we assemble in groups, we tend to make the other Kindred nervous. So in many cases we tend to spread out, leaving to find another city if one of our kind is already in residence.

However, there are some places we have clustered a little. The cities most associated with music draw us to them. Salzburg and Vienna (despite the Tremere) maintain their legacy of Mozart and the classics. But the jazz of New Orleans and the soulfulness of Paris also claim our hearts. New York and London with their cauldron of styles and art are like a home to us. But almost every major city has at least one of us in residence, and many of us stay in touch. It provides us with a very wide net to catch news, gossip, and politics. Let us hope the other Clans don’t decide to count our numbers one day, as our ubiquity (albeit a diluted one) might give them pause.

Generally, the factions among us are small, but some maintain contact from city to city. Some of our factions tend to gather together. So where a group of us is to be found in one place, they will almost certainly be part of the same faction.

Choristers

While most of us prefer to remain solitary, a few of us like to keep their sisters close in their solitude. The voice is more powerful in a choir, and so it has often proved the case with our powers. It seems the Fugue is often of great benefit to us when working together. While we all hear a different melody, the underlying tune is the same, and it can be of great help in coordinating together. The Choristers have several reasons for gathering together, but in many cases, it is simply for mutual support. Being outside most Kindred politics might sound safer, but it actually leaves you with few allies.

Choristers usually have great control over Melpominee, and seek out ways to become more than the sum of their parts when working together. They form very intimate groups made only of fellow Daughters. When they exert their power, they are truly formidable, but it is unclear whether this is because they are Daughters or because they have learned how to work together for the best effect, like any other group.

Whatever the case, many other Daughters are highly concerned about the growth of Choristers. For a start, gathering together makes other people nervous, and the last thing our tiny bloodline needs is too much attention. That they prove even more dangerous when together only makes things worse. The secretiveness of such groups and extremely insular nature also makes a lot of powerful people wonder what they are hiding. A few Daughters wonder if they are hiding something from the rest of us too! However, a recent concern has been raised that perhaps this flocking together is actually part of the original Tal’Mahe’Ra plan. Perhaps the experiment isn’t actually over, and something will drive us all to gather together and join a great song that will tear everything apart.

Soloists

Most of us prefer to keep to ourselves and avoid each other’s company. The opposite of the Choristers is practically the default for our bloodline. The problem of us coming together is this; few of us are good at sharing the spotlight. Sure, the odd duet is fine, but more than that you become a group and then no one gets to shine the brightest. None of us want to be anyone else’s back-up singer either. So the best thing to do is meet up for the occasional jam and otherwise leave

each other alone. By the way, if you think I was just talking about singing, you haven’t been paying attention.

While some of us are happy to just stay out of each other’s way, a few take it a lot further. They have been known to even leave the cities and seek a more rural life. A lot of tales of mysterious voices on the moors or the like can be attributed to our less sociable sisters. While few of these extreme Soloists make many friends, I’m told the Gangrel hold them in high esteem, and many have even joined some quite wild gangs of traveling Kindred, even though they rarely stay in even such small company for long.

Sisters of the Fugue

We all hear the Fugue, the music that we carry with us. Many of us find it a distraction and try to tune it out, while most of us find a way to live with it and follow its flow. But some of us actually work to listen to it very closely. If it is truly the tune of humanity’s heart, they believe that understanding it might lead to incredible insight and power. Where it will lead them is hard to tell, as the sisters rarely share their secrets. Actually, it is rare for you to be able to even get their attention. Every spare moment they have is spent in meditation, listening to the melody in their mind and trying to commune with it.

It’s hard to know if they have learnt much, but several new abilities are rumored to have been developed amongst them. Some say they can hear voices under the music, and these voices offer hints of the future or the past. Some tell secrets, and others warn of danger. It may be true, but I’ve always been told that hearing voices is the first sign of madness. The second sign is listening for them. It’s no coincidence that more than a few Banshees have come from the ranks of the Sisters.

The Quiet Celebrities

We all want to sing, but not all of us want to be famous. Fame is a double-edged sword for the kine, but it can be downright dangerous for Kindred. Our lack of aging is also a problem if we finally hit the big time. Sure, Cliff Richard and Madonna might have an uncanny ability to maintain their youth, but sooner or later your eternal beauty gives the game away. So you might think you have eternity to work your way towards singing at Carnegie Hall or Wembley Stadium, but once you do, it is quickly time to retire. For most of us that seems like a waste of talent, especially when (even if I’m being modest) only the most incredibly talented singers are ever Embraced by us.

So, some of us have formed a society to help deal with this problem. They control recording labels, venues, and production companies so they might employ any of us “for one night

only.” They also specialize in media manipulation and have the contacts to create whole new identities. So when you get too famous, they can create a new persona for you and make sure you don’t have to start your career from the bottom again.

The Quiet Celebrities often don’t have time to do much singing themselves, but they are extremely well connected across several industries. They also form a very useful bridge between the Toreador and the Ventrue, able to converse about both music and finance in equal measure. Given their control over multiple major performance spaces, more than a few Toreador owe them favors as well.

Character and Traits

Concepts

Nightclub Owner

You haven’t retired; you just stepped out of the limelight. Some say you are past your prime, but you always prove them wrong on the few nights you have time to take the

stage yourself. Your regulars wait for those nights like no other. Those who hear you sing wonder why you do it so rarely. But you prefer to make those few nights special, and leave the stage for others to claim in between.

As a manager, you are constantly on the look out for new talent, and perhaps one might be trained in more ways than just how to use her voice. You have also made contacts among the Ventrue as a businesswoman, and within the Toreador, who occasionally come to visit in the hopes of hearing you once more.

Confidence Trickster

You have an amazing voice, but singing isn’t really your thing. You have a different melody and use it to sway those around you with honeyed words. There is always music when you speak, sweet and strong, enough to make people do you favors. You are always looking to play the angle, always have some action going on. With a voice like yours, people just seem to trust you, and that’s all you need.

Disciplines aren’t as much your thing as people skills and quick thinking. The other Daughters look down on you for using your skills like this, but screw those stuck up

bitches. You’ve made plenty of friends among the Ravnos, and even taught them a trick or two.

Speechmaker

You might not sing but you love to perform. Even before you realized you were a woman, your voice carried, be it in a debate chamber or on the streets in front of a union meeting. Now that you’ve been accepted as a true Daughter of Cacophony, you love to gather a crowd, and when you have one, they belong to you. There are very few causes you really care about yourself. The cause doesn’t matter as much as the fact you can make a crowd do anything. They are the sheep and you are the shepherd.

Your services are for hire. It doesn’t matter what you convince the crowd to do, just that they are yours to command. You’ve made a lot of friends among the Brujah, who like to use you to bring their labor force back in line once more. Who knows, maybe the Prince will ask you to help bring some of the other Kindred back in line too one day.