The Kindred are a proud and acquisitive race. Regardless of which sect, if any, owns their allegiance, the social contract among vampires demands a pecking order, and the more Cainites who dwell in a domain, the more complex the hierarchy of who’s superior to whom and who can demand respect from whom.
In its simplest form, Kindred social structure has one preeminent vampire at the top, who maintains their primacy based on strength, cunning, or zeal. Titles add dimension to this, and complexity to the network of Kindred relations. More importantly for the vampires themselves, they add something a vampire can lord over other vampires: a social recognition of their achievements or a symbol of their commitment to their domain’s culture.
Titles are part of the landscape of the vampires’ World of Darkness, from the rampaging Sabbat to the Machiavellian Camarilla to the eldritch Tal’Mahe’Ra to the turbulent Anarchs, titles define sectarian causes and illustrate what Kindred collectives find important. Without titles, if the whole society of the Damned comprised unrelated Autarkis, the night would be an even more anarchic place. Indeed, to many Kindred, the only thing more important than a sense of superiority in the night is blood itself.
New Kindred are often surprised to discover the vast hierarchy of undead society — as well as how rigid that hierarchy can be. To modern Kindred, the elaborate social structure of the damned is part of the horror of their condition: the rules and offices are downright feudal in their severity, and few domains make provisions for the “rights” of a fledgling. Even those that do carry a burden, in that each Kindred depends on every other Kindred to keep their existence secret.
Elders, of course, may never have known anything other than a closed social structure. Whether their last living days were in the Dark Ages or the Age of Enlightenment, the Blood is far from egalitarian in its potential. While the results of the Embrace may allow for equality among the genders, creeds, and culture of mortal life, there’s no greater limit to Kindred power than Generation itself. The power of the Blood dovetails nicely with concepts familiar to elders such as Divine Right and mandated despotism. There’s even an element of predestination to it all: if a vampire was intended to make a difference in Kindred society, well, they’ll have the age and power to make it so. Titles are simply the social trappings of this call to destiny.
Ancillae may find themselves straddling the line of these vastly different perspectives in the War of Ages. Certainly, the fact that they’re no longer neonates allows ancillae to taste some amount of the power upon which elders can call, and what Kindred can honestly say that they don’t want more of whatever tastes motivate them? On the other hand, unless those elders die off, ancillae find themselves in the same position as many neonates, locked out of the ability to gather the unlimited wealth, blood, or power that seems to be the Caine-cursed privilege of the most venerable among the Damned.
It is within the dangerous mix of personal domains, local politics, and the War of Ages that titles play such a prominent role. Kindred titles reflect the weight of the Kindred social contract; the timeless, deadly ballet of vampiric cohabitation that has erected the order that Cainite domains require for stability and to thrive. Since time immemorial, since Caine first spoke the Traditions, the rules have existed and have needed someone to be their shepherd. Sects like the Camarilla exist to reinforce the social order while factions like the Sabbat seek to remake these constructs into something that benefits their own outlook. The modern notions and technological acumen of the Anarchs, the transcendental mysticism of the Inconnu, and the bloody gnosticism of the Tal’Mahe’Ra — all of these exist to keep in check the ravages of the Beast and the ego of lesser Kindred. Titles imply rules and rules give order. Anything else is chaos, and irreversible damnation.
From the rankest neonate granted the duties of the Scourge to the most terrible Methuselah Prince, each vampire has a duty to one another, a station above or below one another, and privileges or responsibilities they can expect from the calcified hierarchy of vampiric custom. The society of Kindred is greater than any individual Cainite themselves.
At least, so the Damned hope.
Normally, a Kindred acquires a title over the course of a chronicle’s events, either earning a title or being placed unceremoniously in it by a vampire who wishes to see them fail publicly. A title may be a reward or a punishment; it may be an ambition or an obligation. Whatever the case, a title comes with certain responsibilities and expectations. A Kindred may possess a title as long as they’re fulfilling the terms of the title and its social contract with other vampires — or they may be propped up by a mentor (or rival) who sees a little more potential (or humiliation) than the Cainite in question has demonstrated to date.
In game terms, a Kindred wishing to obtain a title must have done something during a chronicle that warrants their consideration for the title. A Storyteller has three options when it comes to granting titles and may employ any of them in a chronicle depending on how they wish to see the title used in play.
Titles as Status Bonuses
Given that vampire society reveres status and accomplishment, it’s not a surprise that those who acquire titles can bring those symbols of accomplishment to bear in the social arena. Provided the Kindred in question doesn’t mind name-dropping or laying it on thick, a Kindred can invoke their title for a Status boost.
System: The player spends a Willpower point. For the duration of the scene, the player may add the value of the character’s title in addition to the number of dice granted by their Status Background to dice pools that would be modified by the Status Background. Failure on this roll indicates that the character comes across as a sycophant or overbearing.
The Damned are enamored of any social construct that allows them to display their importance to one another. Their elaborate sect and clan structures reflect this, and in addition to the widespread titles recognized regardless of geography, any number of localized titles may exist in any given domain. For example, a Sabbat stronghold on the border of a Lupine territory may have a Huntsman title responsible for organizing proactive raids against the rampaging werewolves, while an Anarch might hold a “diplomatic” office responsible for “recruiting” from the more stable Camarilla stronghold up the highway.
As such, Storytellers and players are encouraged to create titles that reflect the unique state of their chronicles and home domains. So long as the result is something that can create a story hook or impress another vampire with its formal recognition, some Kindred somewhere probably calls it their title.
Some titles are classified as “negative.” Such titles are invariably detrimental to their holders, whether socially or as indicators of a caste system that marks the individual as a second-class (or worse) citizen. Negative titles aren’t stepped in terms of effect like more positive titles are; they’re just bad — and they stay that way so long as the title applies to the Cainite.
A negative title always affects a Kindred, so long as the vampires they’re dealing with know their title. If the Kindred is able to hide their negative title, they suffer no drawback from it, though if their title is revealed, they may have more severe consequences than their title carries on its own. For example, if an Outcast in a Camarilla domain claims a privilege that belongs only to recognized Kindred, or a Black Hand Quli disobeys their orders, those vampires may well find themselves banished, imprisoned, or even destroyed.
Should a player wish to confer a negative title on their character, they may do so at their discretion and with the approval of the Storyteller. Note that, in the context of a chronicle, it may not be possible to simply declare a negative title void. Since a negative title costs nothing to buy, it cannot, similarly, be bought off. While a negative title may provide an excellent opportunity for roleplaying or character background, they should not be taken lightly, as they represent the prejudices and hypocrisies of the deathless, parasitic society of the Damned that spawns them.
System: Negative titles inflict a variety of drawbacks upon those Kindred who labor under their stigma. Cainites with negative titles subtract 1 from Social dice pools in actions involving those who know they bear that title.