By Spider
Founded by Siobahn, a fifth generation Caitiff by origin, the clan maintains a "harmless" front, while working machinations devious enough to be worthy of any rival clans' loftiest schemes. This is a rarely proven but often discussed fact. This, combined with the Sidhe's rule of feeding only on men, but embracing only women, has created some amount of enmity for them among the Tremere in general, and, specifically, all traditionalistic male vampires. The Sidhe are very tightly knit, with a "family" atmosphere, and are very often willing to go to great lengths to help one another out. They always have a hidden agenda, and never reveal their true motives to clan outsiders. They act like Toreadors, but they think like Ravnos. They are perhaps the most successfully devious vampire clan in existence, not because of their rate of achievement, but more aptly because of their tendency to escape all blame for their actions.
The clan has petitioned for acceptance into the Camarilla, seeking the relative safety that lies within it's folds, and are meeting only some resistance. They have strong footholds of support among the Toreador, Brujah, and Ventrue.
[This legend has been told many times, in many ways. It is most probably true, but not necessarily entirely accurate. The results of this event are well documented, though.]
Way, way back (long ago for us, at least) in the mid 1300's, a young vampire named Siobahn lived her unlife in a secret library, well out of ordinary human perception. Egged on by her sire, a fanatic in the belief of Faerie usefulness, she learned everything there was to know about the magick folk, and their home.
Siobahn was smart, ruthless, and in her cockiness, desired to prove herself. "These folk think they're so strong. They think they're the tricksters." She engaged in a most dangerous form of entertainment: to shaft the Sidhe. She planned a con, a trick, like no other before it.
Using her knowledge, beauty, and an apparently birth-imparted affinity for the Faerie folk, she managed not only to worm her way into Arcadia, but even to gain an audience with the Faerie queen. (Some know her as Titania). With hobgoblins cavorting about them, the two set to talking. Titania was sure she was about to ensnare a pretty prize, but Siobahn was ready for it. Adhering well to the ettiquette of the Sidhe, she managed to sideslip the attempts. Siobahn was tricky, and she earned the envious admiration of many of the folk present there that evening.
"She is too good to be a vampire," they would whisper.
"It is some kind of trick. The king is testing our queen."
"It is a game."
And a game it was. By the end of the night, Siobahn had stolen the true name of the Faerie folk, and Titania was unable to retrieve it. She cursed, and spit, but still, the woman held tightly.
"Let me make you an offer," she said. "We will share this name. And so long as I hold this name, I, and any who I chose to impart it to are as your own. You will not harm us."
"We do with our own as we will."
"Yes, but how many of your own have weaseled such a prize from you, o queen? Trinkets and sparkles are nothing. I have the true name of your people. Do you wish to kill me now? Or might I use it before the final end? You have done a foolish thing, and now you will pay."
"You will not use our true name."
"I will do whatever the hell I want to. Perhaps I'll wear it on my brow, for all to see and read."
There was a long silence, then. Not a creature dared whisper. The queen stood, and turned to face them.
"This woman is never to be harmed, or interfered with in any way. Likewise, any she creates, and holds under the wing of our name, is not to be touched. Take this declaration to all our folk. Any who disobey will face us."
She turned back, and saw the devil's smile on a young woman's face.
"Be away with you. Never are you to return to this place, or any of your kind. The vampire folk are exiled from here."
Siobahn nodded, and stepped aside, back into her library. Things were different now. She was Sidhe.
That evening, her sire spontaneously combusted. His home collapsed. The crops in the surrounding area suffered a drought, and cows soured their milk.
She moves still today, bringing the Faerie people's curse with her, along with their protection. All of her clan are likewise protected, but most of them feel the dolorous presence of sour folk.
For this reason, the members of this clan generally travel in groups of three. They live together, and meet on a regular basis. Since the Faerie folk have a propensity to commit mischief without being seen, this works as a sort of safety barrier, as all three are constantly on the watch.
If a member of the clan is exiled, and no longer allowed to carry the name, she is invariably destroyed by the legitimate Sidhe. No vampire in such a situation has survived more than three hours.
Almost all members of the clan have the merit of Faerie Affinity, so that they can see the folk, and sometimes even speak with them. In the presence of members of this clan, though, the Faerie folk grow sullen and withdrawn.
All members of the clan are encouraged to develop Presence before any other disciplines, simply as an added protection. The Faerie folk love prettiness, and usually think twice before bringing true harm to it.
Brujah: Slow and stupid, these punks are generally only good enough to take our shots for us. They are very useful.
They might seem pretty frail, but there's some nasty-ass chicks in that crew.
Gangrel: They are a likable folk.
They speak well, but can we trust their actions?
Malkavian: Freaks and crazies. Ignore them.
They're stupid. If they get just a little scar, suddenly it's like final death or something.
Nosferatu: They may be disgusting, but they're very clever. Avoid them, but never forget what they can do.
It is difficult to respect ones who put so much emphasis on outward appearances.
Toreador: A laugh. Easier to control than the Brujah.
They appreciate beauty, like ourselves.
Tremere: Our biggest problem within the Camarilla.
The Sidhe are a bunch of troublemakers. Admitting them to the Camarilla would be a monumental error.
Ventrue: Not a bad bunch. We could get along with them.
Their strategies and sensibilities are suprisingly shrewd. Their membership would be an asset.