Nasch the Circassian

Howdy, faithful Kindred scholars. Tonight I have for you Nasch the Circassian. He’s got a few years under his belt, and he often finds his way into some high-profile trouble, but he has some blemishes in his history that a clever coterie might be able to work around or even remedy. In particular, I like that his involvement in the Anarch Revolt leaves so many unanswered questions. What really happened in the tomb? Could that possibly have been Set? What did Giangaleazzo see that made him honor the agreement? And why haven’t the Tremere called for reparation? Los of room to explore here, whether you’re an Anarch, True Sabbat, or anyone in a domain where turbulence can be traced back to Nasch.

Oh! And in case you missed it, the Children of the Revolution prestige print run Kickstarter is now active.

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<1>Nasch, The Circassian

<n>A snorting mare, dark against the silver mountains, its hide limned auburn by the setting sun. The laughter of a sister teasing him near a muddy stream. The rich smell of his mother’s cooking accompanied by the distant sound of his grandfather’s pain. The sudden scream of an eagle just before it drops from the brilliant heavens like a javelin and in one brutal moment seizes and rends the snake that had been hiding so completely in the tall grass, gorging on the kill that is its rightful reward. These are the only memories that remain of his childhood, of the time before Egypt, before manhood, before the deathly chill of the long shadows of the Endless Night that engulfed him. These last remaining fragments, these momentary flashes of imagery and sensation are the last anchors of a vestigial sense of humanity that remains above all else his most treasured possession.

Nasch was born among the Bzhedugh Adyghes, one of the peoples known more popularly as the Circassians, especially in the Mamluk culture that dominated the Near East at the time of his birth. Like many Circassian boys, he was proud when his father arranged for him to travel to Egypt to serve in the sultan’s army, viewing his sale to the visiting merchant as a ticket to freedom, not slavery. The sights and sounds that greeted him in Cairo were beyond anything he had imagined and he quickly heeded the clarion of Islam and the seductively mysterious culture of the ancient land of the pharaohs.

The boy became the property of Kulayb al-Naqid, a powerful bureaucrat who spent whatever it took to ensure that his young warrior received the best martial training available. His bow, lance, mace, and sword were as extensions of his body and his horsemanship improved so much that his patron regularly hosted competitions to further enhance his standing in the sultanate’s administration by showing off his remarkable young charge.

Complementing Nasch’s military education was a more cerebral one that was even more a source of pride for the learned al-Naqid. The lad was given regular access to the personal and religious libraries of his master and his master’s network of friends, which included Islamic scholars as well as Christian and Jewish authorities. Nasch was captivated by what he read and proved a quick learner, mastering Arabic and a handful of other important scripts and tongues before he had reached majority. He was most fascinated by those texts that revealed the older history of Egypt, its rulers, and its gods, and he made a special effort to teach himself hieroglyphics in order to pluck from the ancient inscriptions the lost secrets of the pharaohs.

Upon reaching the age for battle, Nasch was granted his freedom and provided arms and armor in addition to a mount. This did not remove his obligation to al-Naqid, however. As was the Mamluk custom, Nasch remained bound to his former master by an oath of blood loyalty. This was not an issue for the Circassian at first, but in time the elder al-Naqid grew demanding and continued to treat Nasch as a trophy to parade before his friends as the aging bureaucrat struggled to maintain his station in a shifting political landscape. As Nasch increasingly resisted this treatment, al-Naqid began to spread rumors of his “son” that resulted in doors being closed to him that previously had been open. He found himself cut off from the scholarly works that had become his great passion and his contacts refused to see him, all on account of al-Naqid’s poisoned words.

Only one door remained open to the abandoned Mamluk. A Copt named Abul-Darda Hashim al-Musayyab, a rival of al-Naqid’s who had been working hard to undermine him in order to assume his influential position as a tax administrator, openly welcomed Nasch and supplied him the intellectual companionship he desperately sought. Al-Musayyab also quickly changed Nasch’s views on his obligation to his former master, convincing the young man that a father who does not treat his son with due respect is himself worth none. When al-Naqid learned of Nasch’s association with his enemy, he formally denounced him as a conspirator and traitor. The crafty Copt seized the opportunity his manipulation had provided, fanning the flames in Nasch’s heart and urging him to take action before al-Naqid went any further. So effective was al-Musayyab’s argument that when Nasch found himself standing over al-Naqid’s bloody corpse he was convinced that the idea had been his own.

Nasch’s story might have ended there, but two things worked in his favor to save him from punishment. First, the Mamluks were swiftly rising in power on account of the recent ascension of Baibars to the sultanate, the first of the new dynasty’s rulers after centuries of Ayyubid rule. Second, al-Musayyab was only the servant of Nasch’s true patron, the Ventrue elder Palamon.

A devout Copt who dedicated himself to the goal of purging Egypt of Islam and restoring it to its ancient glory, Palamon had watched Nasch for some time and saw in him the perfect childe. He had actually masterminded al-Naqid’s downfall with the assistance of “sympathetic parties” among the Followers of Set, with whom he had allied himself against the Muslim undead. It did not take long for Nasch to become convinced to swear a new blood oath to the passionate Ventrue and in 1263 he took an oath of fealty in the form of the Embrace. With his nights now freed of mortal concerns and the Followers of Set willing to share occult secrets with him that no mortal possessed, Nasch saw his sire as both his savior and a true father that deserved his eternal loyalty.

As much as he threw himself into his occult pursuits, Nasch also put substantial energy into mastering contemporary politics. Aided by his nascent mastery of Presence, a gift that seemed to come more naturally to him than his clan’s parallel affinity for Dominate, he proved a skilled and valuable asset that his sire fully exploited. This partnership proved a successful one and by the time Nasch reached his fiftieth *birthday* and was rewarded by being formally released by his sire, the pair had become quite accomplished. However, this did not last, for even as Nasch and his sire cultivated influence among key officials throughout Egypt and the empire’s Syrian territory, they remained wholly oblivious to the way they were being manipulated.

The Followers of Set who had allied themselves with Palamon were a very secretive cabal even among their fellow Setites, a group possessed of a secret that they shared with no one and would do anything to protect. Dubbing themselves the Coil of the Lion, these Serpernts were dedicated to no less a duty than protecting one of the clan’s holy sites suspected of being the tomb of the Antediluvian Set. They not only knew its location, but had been guarding it from discovery and intrusion for millennia, keeping their progenitor safe until the time had come for his return. This responsibility meant that despite their dark stewardship, they occasionally had to relocate the torpid form believed to be the Antediluvian in order to protect him. The time had again come nigh for this task and they used their Ventrue pawns to ensure that this could be accomplished as smoothly as possible.

Key to The Coil of the Lion’s plan was to create enough distraction among the region’s Kindred to focus their attention elsewhere when the move took place. The cult decided that a political and cultural scandal would serve this purpose well and the best way to accomplish this was to turn Nasch against his sire. Just as he had been receptive to the deceptive entreaties of al-Naqid, the young Ventrue was equally susceptible to the persuasions of the agents of the fork-tongued Setites. He began to see his sire as no different from al-Naqid, an exploitive master who only pretended respect, which was not wholly untrue. He slowly came to believe that his release from his sire’s authority was actually a ploy to make him more loyal to Palamon even as the elder took greater advantage of him, a thralldom under the guise of freedom. Ultimately, The Coil of the Lion succeeded in convincing Nasch that as a Mamluk and Circassian he would never be able to achieve parity with his sire or other Ventrue, that he would instead always been viewed as little more than a fancy slave.

By this time, Palamon, in large part due to the help of his favored childe, had achieved near-total control over the immediate advisors to Sultan al-Ashraf Sha’ban. With the backing of the Setites, Nasch made his move and lent his support to an uprising among the Mamluks that began in Syria and quickly spread to Egypt. The turmoil took Palamon, along with other Kindred, by surprise and though their eventual downfall was not an overnight affair, they were unable to regain their upper hand. Nasch’s mortal ally Barquq, a cunning Circassian like himself, was instrumental in the rebellion and, after nearly five years of political and military chaos, finally succeeded in seizing the sultanate for himself, thereby founding the Burji Mamluk dyansty.

Naturally, Palamon and the other Ventrue did not look kindly on Nasch’s betrayal. They invoke the Lextalionis and did their best to make unlife difficult for the traitorous ancilla. Despite his best efforts, were it not for his Setite patrons, Nasch knew he was doomed. It was during this tumultuous time that the Coil of the Lion made its near-fatal mistake. Sure of their hold over the ruined Ventrue, they grew careless and boasted about their true purpose to enflame the imagination of the Ventrue they considered their debtor. They underestimated his understanding of the old ways and when they demanded his assistance in helping them ensure the protection of some pilgrims to the necropolis of Saqqara, he knew it was his only opportunity to seize an advantage that he so desperately needed.

In the winter of 1381, with the eyes of local Kindred misdirected elsewhere, the Coil of the Lion undertook the dangerous journey they had planned for so long. When Nasch’s Mamluks attacked the small caravan the morning after their arrival in Saqqara, the Setite ghouls and mercenaries were unprepared and unable to defend their cargo. The raiders seized the opulent sarcophogus and all but two of the Setite escorts met Final Death, the survivors fleeing in snake form into the night-chilled sands. Their minions were slaughtered and all traces of the caravan were burned or secreted away inside desert-scourged tombs. They dragged this choicest prize into one such funereal chamber and guarded it until the sun set.

When Nasch arose and stood before the ebony coffin he was not sure exactly how to go about the deed. He had read and heard many different things about the Amaranth, but such forbidden whispers bore no specifics. What he was sure of was that no matter how things happened, he was facing an creature whispered fearfully, reverently to be nothing less than a god in the eyes of the Setites, and to come unprepared would unquestionably mean his demise. For this reason he had worked every minion, contact, and pawn he could, and all but emptied his treasury in order to obtain something that might help him survive and accomplish this task.

Nasch’s efforts paid off when he was able, a mere few weeks before the desert raid, to acquire a small sliver of ancient bone from a merchant who desperately craved the reward of “eternal life” in exchange for the relic. The merchant claimed that the bone was nothing less than a fragment of the forearm of Osiris, Set’s nemesis. Nasch relished the opportunity, having read in a collection of Gnostic apocrypha that “one of the betrayer’s get” might deal a grievous wound to “his thrice-damned progeny.” Although Nasch asked a handful of trusted conspirators to verify the assertion that the bone fragment was the real thing, he remained skeptical, but without other options and time running out he had little choice but to put his faith in the artifact.

When his thralls pried open the last seal and removed the startlingly plain inner lid that had concealed the face of Antediluvian, Nasch felt the world shift. The a susurration quickly grew into a clamor, the sound of a thousand serpents rending the air with their unearthly hissing as the chamber around him vanished into blackness. He found himself standing upon a dais in a vast, open temple situated on an otherwise empty expanse of desert that stretched into infinity. Before him lay the body of a man with the head of an unspeakable beast, no sarcophogus in sight, naked but for a simple loincloth. For a few moments Nasch surrendered to a fear that made even the Red Fear seem insignificant. He could not move and was sure that he was to meet Final Death, sure that this was Set, and that the Antediluvian would slake its thirst thirst on his vitae.

It was at that moment that Nasch recalled the memory of the eagle and the snake. Without permitting himself another thought, he leapt forward and sank his fangs into the dark god.

What happened next he cannot or will not permit himself to guess. To this night, Nasch recalls a distant memory of power, unimaginable power, surging through him, and of a tremendous roar that drowned out all other sensation. He knows, too, there was pain, as if the sun itself had swallowed him. And his body unconsciously quakes with a terror so all-encompassing that to this night all his other fears have lost their hold on him.

When Nasch awakened next he discovered that more than a decade had passed. He found himself in a monastery in Sicily. His servitors had arranged for his transport out of Egypt, but only one remained with him, and the man could provide few additional details about the fateful night in Saqqara. Nasch became convinced that the shard of Osiris had been real, for he could find no other explanation for his survival. At first he believed he had succeeded in committing diablerie, but this conviction did not last long. Strange visions began to haunt his dreams, visions of serpents consuming the world, writhing from the trees and walls, and worse. An unrelenting hissing plagued him when awake, a hallucination he struggled hard to master.

The most telling sign that whatever had transpired had failed was his own form. Upon arising from torpor, Nasch had become gaunt and reeked of the grave. Initially, he assumed this was normal after torpor and that he would soon regain his former appearance, but no amount of blood would reverse this change. He soon came to believe that rather than taking the vitae an Antediluvian, whatever ancient Kindred this truly was had instead performed some lesser Amaranth upon him, leaving him permanently weakened. In the vain hope of reversing his condition he engaged in an orgy of blood-drinking that exceeded the capacities of his monastic environs. Sure enough, word reached the ears of a nearby Lasombra elder who had barely survived the Burning Times and had no wish to see them rekindled on her doorstep. With no minions or moneys at his disposal, and not wishing to draw too much attention to himself, Nasch chose to heed her warning and he left the domain for Milan.

For the next few years, Nasch kept a low profile and played the genteel and unassuming Ventrue ancilla. Although outwardly loyal to his clan, his closest ties were to the Tremere. Soon after joining the city’s Kindred, he sought their counsel as to the existence some art or artifact that might be able to mute his presence so as to hide him from Set and his agents. The Malkavian Oracle at Milan sensed an aura of doom around him and made an effort to avoid him, refusing to share her auguries with him. The Nosferatu similarly had no interest in teaching their Discipline to the blighted Ventrue, but the Tremere had no such compunctions. In fact, on the contrary, the magus Marco Pessina was intrigued by the paranoid Blue Blood and promised to help in exchange for Nasch’s knowledge of the Followers of Set and their cyclopean rituals.

In 1402, Pessina completed a ritual that he said would answer the Ventrue’s prayers. According to Pessina, the Ritual of Concealing would diminish Nasch’s presence so greatly that no Kindred of the foul blood of the Followers of Set, not even the founder of the clan himself, would be able to detect him. The rite came with two caveats. First, the ritual’s power was contingent upon Nasch’s own behavior. The more he advertised his presence, the weaker the protection would be. Second, given the incredible strength of the blood magic — it is no mean feat to obscure one of the Damned from from a god — its efficacy would fade over time. The only way to replenish the ritual’s potency was for Nasch to enter torpor, during which time it would regain its original might.

As final payment for the Tremere’s efforts, Nasch had Pessina destroyed. He provided enough information to a Toreador neonate inspired by the recent rumblings of the soon-to-be Anarch Revolt as was necessary and let Kindred nature take its course. Just to be safe, Nasch then tipped off the Tremere of Milan to the jealous Toreador in their midst, “to avenge the death of Marco Pessina, who aided me when I needed it.”

This became Nasch’s modus operandi. When, over the years, he sought an advantage among his kind, he identified a downtrodden neonate or ancilla and convince the patsy to stand against one or more established Kindred presented an obstacle, even while openly defending the Traditions and declaring allegiance to the establishment. Some, many even, fell for these lies, aided as they were by vampiric charms, but more often those in power saw through his sham and sought his head for stirring up the Anarchs. He survived as long as he did in Milan only because of his continued alliance with the Tremere, who found it more strategically beneficial to look beyond his likely involvement with the diablerie of one of their own in order to gain as much additional information about Setite and Egyptian rituals as possible. One night, they figured, his worth would expire, and then so would he.

The Tremere did not have that chance, however — at least not yet. Regardless of the danger he might invite, Nasch has historically been unable to avoid the limelight. His relaince on the Discipline of Presence stirred up feelings of rebellion and immediate action in any who fell under its sway, particularly those weak-willed neonates who had become dangerously numerous over the centuries. Even when he eschewed the use of his Disciplines, it was usually too late, and in more than one daomain, the Anarchs had already taking to the streets shouting his name. Almost overnight, Milan became a battleground for those defending the Traditions and those howling for a new order and the blood of the defenders. Even as he was hailed as a hero by the Milanese Anarchs and their “patron saint,” a Lasombra named Giangaleazzo, Nasch became terrified that the Tremere ritual would be powerless to protect him from Setite vengeance. Even if it did, the Tremere would still have his head when they finally reached their tolerance of him, as Nasch was sure they would. Ironically, a third contingency proved to be a far more immediate threat.

The Anarchs were not the only ones who had seized power in Milan. The nascent Sabbat had converted many of the impressionable Anarchs to their cause, heeding the exhortations of Giangaleazzo, or taking the faith of the Sword of Cain under pain of martyrdom. Nasch did not escape the turning tides of Milanese politics and was brought before Giangaleazzo. Desperate, he played the only card he had. In a closed-door parlay with the Lasombra, Nasch traded his knowledge of the purported Setite Antediluvian’s tomb to the astonished vampire in exchange for his protection from the Sword of Caine. The Lasombra “saint” agreed and declared his safety in Milan, so long as the Archbishop himself was satisfied with the contents of the desert tomb.

Having secured his safety for a time, Nasch voluntarily entered torpor in order to recharge the Tremere Ritual of Concealment.  He woke decades later, with the Tremere absent from the City of the Boar. Surprised that he had been spared by both angry Usurpers and tempestuous Sabbat — and now fully protected by the ritual once again — Nasch skulked away from Milan.

Since the fifteenth century, Nasch has spent significant time in at least a score of cities, usually doing his best at first to not draw attention, but always finding himself unable to resist the tendencies that advertise his presence and force him to flee and again seek torpor. His corruptive influence is almost like a virus, and in each place his legacy is one of destabilizing sedition and open violence against the powers that be that often lasts for some time after his terrified exit from the storm he incited.

Tonight, Nasch still clings to those few memories he has of life before the nightmare began. The horse, his sister, his mother’s cooking. But the last one, the memory of the eagle, is increasingly replaced not by another recollection, but by a vision of the future. Instead of the eagle falling upon the snake, it is the snake that finds the eagle asleep in his aerie and with cold-blooded intent sinks its fangs into the unsuspecting raptor and crushes it with the strength of a vengeful god.

Sire: Palamon the Copt

Clan: Ventrue

Nature: Conniver

Demeanor: Eye of the Storm

Generation: 7th

Embrace: 1263

Apparent Age: Withered by time

Physical: Strength 3, Dexterity 3, Stamina 5

Social: Charisma 6, Manipulation 5, Appearance 1

Mental: Perception 3, Intelligence 4, Wits 5

Talents: Expression 4, Leadership 4, Subterfuge 5

Skills: Etiquette 2, Melee 3, Stealth 3, Survival 4

Knowledges: Academics 4 (Pharaonic History), Occult 5 (Egyptian rituals), Politics 4

Disciplines: Auspex 1, Dominate 4, Fortitude 5, Potence 4, Presence 6, Serpentis 1

Backgrounds: Contacts 2, Influence 4, Resources 3, Status (Anarchs) 3

Merits/Flaws: Language (Adyghe, Arabic, Aramaic, Coptic, Hebrew), Smell of the Grave

Virtues: Conscience 2, Self-Control 1, Courage 4

Morality: Humanity 3

Willpower: 8

Blood Pool/Max per Turn: 20/4

Image: Nasch appears taller than his entirely average frame on account of his unusually emaciated condition, a situation that also makes him seem greatly aged. His once-powerful muscles have winnowed to a wiry physique, contributing even more to his unsettling appearance. His dark hair is long and straggly, but otherwise he keeps himself clean-shaven, and the charnel accent that accompanies him completes the image of a monster. Only his deep brown eyes hint at his remaining humanity. Nasch typically dresses in clothing suitable for his environment, though perhaps a bit careworn. He is animated when speaking and unable to contain his passions, but he can swiftly transform into a creature of silent paranoia that is notably uncomfortable around others.

Roleplaying Hints: The Circassian is alternately terrified of the dreadful fate that he’s certain will soon be his — the one he knows he deserves — or manically focused on a scheme that will earn him just enough time to achieve his short-term goals before rebellion once again erupts around him. He is at constant war with himself, seeking to avoid attention for his own safety while at the same time craving the cruel pleasure that betrayal and unpheaval bring him. He is an awful creature, a liar for its own sake and satanically able with the habit.

Haven: Most of the time, Nasch’s haven is a private, secure home or small structure far from the path any Kindred would have reason to tread. He does not invite others into his domain, and is always prepared to relocate should it be discovered.

Influence: Among the Anarch Movement, Nasch is as much a figure of admiration as he reviled as a Jonah. While educated Anarchs respect him for his role in the Anarch Revolt, they also see him as the liar he is, knowing he has no loyalty to their sect above any other. Cagey Anarchs may try to exploit Nasch both as the inspiring figure his Presence projects, but also as a necessary sacrifice for the dominant sect if their revolution or subsequent barony fails. This ruse itself usually comes apart as those who would use Nasch fall under the sway of his Presence, as they almost always do. The Camarilla certainly have no love for the Ventrue traitor, but they have refrained from formally pursuing his destruction on account of… things certain Malkavians and Nosferatu whisper about the Circassian.