Eye of Shiva

What I Did Learn This Night

Magic tigers revile daeva cobras.
Calling oneself Ahriman is the LIE of a FOOL. My sister & I send FOOLS to the origional. To lie to the lord of lies! He spilt the blood of Gavaevodata!
Impure pagans lie about being daeva cobras who lie about being Children of Jahi, as well.
No, that is not a lie. Merely odd.
It was the one called Daeva Idolator that plots against “Mithras”. We have become the bearers of his declaration of war. This does not make us safe from Lady Alice, who can best me in battle, but chooses not to slay me. No! Her daevas do. They kill all others promiscuously, as do those of my sister.

Best that they meet in FINAL BATTLE.

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In a Dungeon.

With my Sister.
My Sister, who becomes Jahi in battle, consorts with UNCLEAN corpses, & trusts in the words of the daevs.
No better than the Lady Alice, hiding in DARKNESS.
The “scot” was a mere tiger.
How dare the idolator of Zahhāk attempt my seduction! He has died in FLAME. I will BRAND him my Sires murderer, so all will marvel at my vindictiveness!
That will be most satisfying, & precautionary.
A tiger. How could I be so blind? By the Holy Truth, there is no end to those animals deceptions!
2009 venus serpentis

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In My HEEA-ED

The spawn of Zahhāk writhes in What Came From mad Lady Alice`s head.
Gordon has gone forth, to battle? The true foe comes!-a heathen idol, & its steel-clawed monkey host.
My duty is of great obviousness.
I check for traps & secret doors.
Obtenebration

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Oh Brethren Pluckers of 3-Eyed Rosebuds:

Another brick has broadened our Pyramid!
Yes, that is, indeed, a vial of her vitae.
Item
No, there is no need to curse-brand; thus dooming her to our consumption, or, worse, Sabbatization. (The vial will be there. You may find my mortal status as one of the leading experts on tropical afflictions of the haematopoietic cells, even including merely extrotopic aetherial noetic factors-anyway, my status as a medical doctor amusingly neoteric, but it does make the Royal Mail a bit more considerate).
I had, at first, intended her as a ghoulish local guide & bodyguard, urged on by our current Assamite troubles. We have, in fact, managed to bag a few of the poor beggars-they had started making free with young Christian gentlewomen, so we had little choice in the matter. However, a little experiment I had going with the military applications of Mistress Thomas yielded unforseen results, & in spite of the competence of Mr. Blackthorne, not to mention the considerable personal courage, & scrummage ability, of Captain Ash, my ghoul recieved a very clear invitation to one of her peoples terrible Towers of Silence.
What else was one to do, in such a situation, but Embrace her?
Fortunately, she is not a mere random mineral outgrowth of our Pyramid. She is of the Parseeists, the last of the Magian fire-worshippers, a sect devoted to our Mithras, & not unsuprisingly, good business connections of our Company.(Rather daring, that, to take on the role of The Angel Uriel in a fire-cult). One has retained her connections to her panchayat, or community, as is ones custom: they are most convinient.
His Royal Leonine Highness, on the other paw, is understandably roaring mad at this sudden Tremerity; & has detained my unplanned Childe until I attain a properbly Androclean degree of Princely respect. Could you be so good as to send him, at least, a letter? But no need to hurry-the responsibilities, such as that of protecting her against Assamite rapine, of an unnanounced Childe are better left, perhaps, to a local dignitary, for now.
But she would be a great help against the Setites.

What, as a matter of random & capricious sudden interest, is our current policy on Necromancy? Haunted native jewelry, anthropophagy, ambulating corpses, all such goings on.
They are characteristic for India.

Bound to your service by Internal Chymestry,
“a small unleavened, undefiled Cake”

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Dear Children of Ha-Quim

If you are reading this missal, you have, most likely, Finally Killed me: you ought to keep its disintrested source in mind.
First off, we found you due to your being betrayed by the Setites, or Date-you, or whatever you wish to call the, well, Clan of Betrayers. Lest one offends by implying that you did conciously give them your trust, I would rather advise you to look for traitors within your own ranks-they are also the Clan of Corruption, one understands.
Secondly, whilst one is aware that this does come a bit late in the evening, I was on your side-or at least, more than I was on that of “my” clan. (Never really cared for the concept-I am not a bloody Scotchman). Your devotion to limiting others under the Curse from over-exploiting mortality is not merely admirable, but our kinds only chance of surviving futurity.
The world of those not merely surviving, but who are verily alive, progresses at steam-engine speed. In but another century, the breathing will have finally solved their problems of crime, war, &, Providence be thanked, disease. Why, they may even, within a millenia or two, travel to the Moon! Bloodthirsty parasites from another age will find little room to hide in the future vegetarian world-state. We will either put ourselves at the mercy of those enlightened by the sun, or have to call upon our cannibal sires.
I do not believe the second choice to be a wise one.
I came to this distant place so as to pursue my studies of Vitae-more especially, on how to lift “my” clans curse upon yours, but also to extend a new version of it to all Cainites: a version that would restrain us from feeding on any mortal that has not given us express permission to do so. What little results I have gained are encoded within the tiger-demon painting of Bombays garrisons mess hall. My poor childe is unlikely to have survived me; if Providence has, however, granted her poor Sire his acCursed prayer, & she become your bondsmaid, she will be of great help in breaking my code.

Finally, I would strongly advise you to destroy the creature that calls herself Capreocorpus. She is a Lady, a scholar, & an affront to G-d. She will use my very ghost against you.

Post-post mortem regards,
from a (presumably) fellow Follower of the Book,
Dr. Marmaduke Bannerworth, former Tremere.

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Dreams of Fire and Shadow

Sometimes speed is of the essence. Yet we ran directly into an ambush. The mad scream of that Cursed One i will remember forever. Allah is great, indeed. But not, i hope, merciful to the souls of such creatures.
Ah, goddess, the fire. My soul screamed Your name in pain, and You did preserve me. Forever i shall be your loyal servant, and follow the path you laid out for me.
Landing outside, everything was death and fire, and i must think You held the beast at bay in that moment, for i had no strength in me for anything but pain. I saw, happily, my sire escape, before i crawled in pain to some dark corner.
Again, only through Your grace and my training did i manage to call up the shadows around me. Never has a rite been cast in such conditions, my skin still smoldering from the explosion. But i had to conceal myself. I could only assume the Cursed Ones would soon come to take any survivors.
Your servant is a greater creature than myself, and knows your will, and he did lead me true to a safe haven. The very tomb of the King of Kings, that strange and dark spirit. Ah, to serve such a Lady as you, i am blessed indeed.
There, i fell into slumber among the whispers of strange oriental nightmares and shades. And even into dream did they follow me.
I was led to a palace, to the true court of the King of Kings. Marble of colors beyond the rainbow, soft like the finest silk, such was the stones of that great house. It was not a place that could be taken or held by anyone except those native to the plane, a thousand passages intertwined strangely all around, and when i was led to the great hall and bowed to that King, i would never had been able to find my own way out.
We dined together, there, on the very sweet wine of that place. And he was most courteous, telling me stories of his youth and secrets of this other world. You must excuse me, my Lady, if for a little while there i gave myself to another. There was a sweetness in his voice, and in the air of these misty halls, and it leads the mind to forget all worries and loyalties to it’s pleasures.
Yet, returned, i remain Your servant, and with the gift he gave me my eyes re now open to Your realms. I see them, now, even with my waking eyes, laughing and killing and slithering all about, all the spirits of this strange land.

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Playing with the fire ...

Barrals and fire

TO BE FILLED IN …

Big fire small

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Awake, Ye Dwellers of The Threshold!
ALERT

“And after the earthquake a fire; but the Lord was not in the fire: and after the fire a still small voice.”
Mistress Thomas “Philosphus” stands revealed, bearing visions of DOOM. Mr. Wake, as he entitles himself, is currently applying my Childes abilities to magically telegraph you the grisly details, but “Londons Burning” seems to be the gist of it. He appears to be a man of parts, & of considerable status in our Camarilla; one can but endorse the awful importance of his warning by mine mundane epistletory.
The last thing I will be doing as Chantry Regent. I am ceding the title to my Childe & Mr. Wake, who will be a temporary Martial Co-Regency, until the Setite War is over.
They infest this place. The natives worship them as veritable gods. They have murdered & abducted Englishwomen, & assulted us with Assamites, & FIRE. Worst of all, that last extremity has made me out of sorts, & my Childe a murderess (“only” of what you so pleasantly term Kine, & I, a fellow bearer of an Immortal Soul). Strength, or alternatively, unpredictabillity of character is of the essence versus these traffickers in inquity; Mr. Wake fits that bill. One will instead concentrate on preserving ones Childes moral rectitude, &, at long last, on the pursuit of those studies that were ones initial reason for entering unto savagery.

We have discovered the source of the Troubles in London. Know this, even if you disregard all else as the ravings of a poltroon & a coward: it is The Devil Brahmin.
& he is a thaumaturgist.
It is our Blood, so reviled by my countrymen, that is the key to survival. This may well be the night to teach the spawn of Set the same lesson we taught by the Accursed Vitae of Haqim.

Prince Singh, & Mr. Pariah, send their regards. His Royal Highness retains his composure, in spite of his recent spiritual bondage in “Aegypt”(quite physical-he, unlike poor Mr. Pariah, is the first native one has met not a Setite cultist).

Bound to your service by Internal Chymestry,
“a small unleavened, undefiled Cake”

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Tales of our father:
cain, vision

Had a strange experience yesterday. We went outside Bombay to meet the Tamil princess Vasantasena. A malkavien Methuselah who had been present when the camarilla and the sabbat was created. She had attracted a large group of people and was walking towards Bombay. All she wanted was to give us a vision and then she departed. Do not know why it was so important to give us a vision, but it was. She is a Malkavien after all. Some say they can see true vision in their madness. I doubt it, but will not say no to a talk with a Methuselah.

Me and alice said we wanted to see her vision. But Gordon did not want to. But she would not accept a no and gordon had to get a vision. We did not have the same vision. The vision the others told me about later was not the same as I experienced. How did she do it? Was all we saw a vision of what we wanted to see? I hope not. I got a priceless gift, so hope it is not something I have made up. Time will tell. I need to go to London to confirm it, but do not have time now. Bombay is still in chaos after the late prince disappeared.

I got a vision of our father Cain. I was in a cave filled with strange letters. I could see a tunnel leading outside to the night. In the cave was a sarcophagus with strange letters hinting that this was the resting place of Cain, the father of all vampires. All around the sarcophagus there was bones from other kindred, who had disturbed our father. He did not like to get disturbed. I had a urge to open the sarcophagus, but remembered that this was a vision and what ever I saw it would not be real. But it might end the vision and I had something to do. I could read the strange letters. The message of the first ones, the key to all knowledge about them, Enochian. How was it that I could read this? Was it because the vision was not real or had she give me the knowledge? She might have this knowledge. As I wondered about this I could see the torch in the chamber was about to end. It had a feeling this would end the vision. I had to hurry, so I read all I could and tried to memorize it. So I could later read other writings in this secret languages.

After the vision ended I wrote it all down, all I could remember. The letters and the translation. All the text that was written in the cave of our father. I hope I got it right. This could be a real treasure if it was real. But how can I know. Can not wait to see the clay tablet my sire has that should be written in the secret languages of the first among us. This would confirm it and tell us its tale. Should I rush home? What if it is not true.

Patience. I most not let anybody know I have this knowledge. Some would kill to get my diary. I most hid it well.

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From the "Arthashastra"

“If the enemy desires to make peace on condition of the weak king surrendering a portion of this army, he may give the enemy such of his elephants and cavalry as are uncontrollable or as are provided with poison; if the enemy desires to make peace on condition of his surrendering his chief men, he may send over to the enemy such portion of his army as is full of traitors, enemies and wild tribes under the command of a trusted officer, so that both his enemy and his own undesirable army may perish….”

Book XII, “Concerning a Powerful Enemy
Chanakya   war field
Seven ways to greet a neighbour:
1.Sanman – Appeasement, non-aggression pact
2.Dana – Gift, bribery
3.Danda – Strength, punishment
4.Bheda – Divide, split, separating opposition
5.Maya – Illusion, deceit
6.Upeksha – Ignoring the enemy
7.Indrajala – Faking military strength

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