SALUBRI ANTITRIBU

By connorbd@bc.edu (11 March 1996)

Description

There aren't many of these freaks around, but they're more numerous than their tiny forbear clan. A particularly tortured Salubri named Roisin embraced a British soldier in Ireland in 1882, but the soldier disappeared before Roisin could properly teach the childe the ways of the Salubri. Roisin embraced another childe later on, but could never track down the soldier, who ultimately fled the British Isles.

The nameless soldier's descendents resemble the Salubri only in the extra eye. These vampires see themselves as the modern heirs to the cursed legacy of the Assamites, and they interpret the idea of vampiric agony that the orthodox Salubri feel as a justification for moving all Salubri to Golconda as a justification for the wiping out of any vampire. They are a Sabbat clan through and through.

The one oddity in their bloodline is that they are immune to the cockeyed tunes of the Daughters of Cacophony.

Stereotypes

Camarilla: Blind, that's what they are. They should be crushed.

Sabbat: Hey, they sign our paychecks. IMHO they're wimps about the whole Jyhad, though.

Salubri: They do miss the whole point. If vampire existence is agony, why do they continue this silliness?

Tremere: They fear us because they know we know we both have nothing at all to lose. May Gehenna take them first.

Brujah: Channel that fanaticism, that's what they need to do. We could use them.

Malkavians: You can't control that which has no control over itself. I'd just as soon see them exterminated; they are worth nothing to the Sabbat.

Malkavian antitribu: They think we're dangerous? Try dealing with one of them...

Nosferatu: Blecch. Almost as bad as the Salubri, with spades of denial to boot.

Gangrel: No matter whose side they're on, they're all the same. Granola treehugger lupine lovers, as far as I'm concerned.

Ventrue: Poles up their asses. They like this life.

Toreador: I merely offer this: a very effective way to torture one of those degenerates is to sit them down in front of a Monty Python marathon. Trash they are, trash they shall remain.

Ravnos: Ooky. That's the word for them.

Giovanni: Someone ought to remind them that they're vampires. I think they tend to forget that.

Setites: Why do I think that the vampire who embraced the House Tremere was a Setite? I know it's not supposed to be the case, but I'm not convinced...

Assamites: All things considered, they're toys. We do the work they were intended to do.

Lasombra: Who do I fear? This is what you get when you teach a Ventrue what life really is.

Tzimisce: Pawns. And barely worth that. I'd rather trust a Brujah.

Samedi: They generally mean well, but from what I hear, if they only knew where they really came from...

Daughters of Cacophony: I kind of like that screeching of theirs.

Baali: AAAAAGH! Let us do our own work! They're muscling in on our territory!

Magi: Arrogant bastards. I try not to bother them.

Garou: Most vampires hate them. I simply don't care.

Wraiths: I'll believe if you will.

Changelings: Wouldn't know one if I fell over one. I can't tell a Sluagh from a Toreador anyway.