The Cherubim also appreciate academic expertise in the arts. Provenance — proof of where and when a work of art was created and by whom — is crucial for an artwork’s value. It’s also difficult to establish for an artwork that may be unknown to mortal scholars (because it’s been in an Invictus elder’s collection for the last 200 years). Of course, the sort of Kindred-created artwork that goes in the Vault can never have its provenance checked by mortal scholars. The Cherubim correspond with several undead scholars with sufficient knowledge of art history and Kindred culture to authenticate works that lack clear provenance.

The Cherubim don’t limit themselves to the plastic arts, either. Not a few Invictus Princes appoint poet lau-

reates to glorify them and commemorate important events in verse. Such a poet would be welcome among the Cherubim as well. Back in the 1970s, an Angel in another city published a literary magazine by and for the Kindred. It lasted four years, until a witch-hunter found a copy in the haven of a vampire she destroyed. This led to the publisher’s destruction soon after. Copies of Bleeding All Over The Page are now highly valued by Kindred collectors, who would be glad if some brave Angel could start another magazine like it.

Concepts: Wealthy collector, gallery owner, opera sponsor, poetry slam organizer, architect, museum donor, small-press publisher

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•, Firearms • and some skill riding. The last qualification may be met with dots in Drive, interpreted to include some familiarity with horseback riding, or it might just be a Specialty of Animal Ken, depending on the character. Until a character shows she can keep her seat on a galloping horse, shoot a gun with reasonable accuracy and knows something about wildlife and the great outdoors, the Artemids are unlikely to ever consider her for membership, even though these are hardly the techniques they use when hunting mortals.

The Most Noble Fellowship charges membership dues

— those lodges, dogs and horses don’t come cheaply. A Kindred needs Resources ••• to afford the Fellowship’s dues. (Most of the expenses are born by very wealthy senior members.)

OTHER HUNT CLUBS

The Fellowship is neither the oldest or the first hunt club of the First Estate. Most hunt clubs are small local groups that pass on their seats to childer and successors over time. Most hunt clubs are modest, even recreational, quasi-coteries assembled every year or so as an excuse to escape the pomp and politics of the court — to vacation farther than any common Elysium. Many, perhaps most, modern hunt clubs aren’t hunt clubs at all, but handfuls of old coterie-mates and relatives- in-Damnation who gather to reminisce and seek counsel in private locales on the edge of the domain, where perhaps they sup on soft locals or someone’s herd. The dirty secret of these clubs is that they often gather to peek out at the countryside, to imagine that they have the freedom and power of every day-loving mortal to visit “the cabin,” to drive themselves on unfamiliar roads, to explore and be alive. These Kindred gather to lie to each other and themselves, to pretend they are satisfied.

Seemingly independent of the old-fashioned hunt clubs — those that seem populated by old, white vampires — are the new, strictly urban hunt clubs being formed by neonates in and out of the Invictus. Coteries of vicious city vampires calling themselves hunt clubs are taking to pack-hunting homeless and transient mortals in major cities all over the world. Some of these dangerously reckless young murderers organize forays into tenements and high-rise housing projects, subways and truck stops for the sake of finding prey they can chase, corner and kill. Invictus vampires, with their dedication to the Masquerade and the stability of the Damned society, have tried to put a stop to many of these brash, new hunt clubs, but some of their founders actually are Invictus who feel they are entitled to the same sport as their seniors.

Mere membership in the Most Noble Fellowship is a one-dot Merit. This can be the character’s first dot of

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frogged coat of green velvet with a leather belt bearing a crescent moon on the buckle. The left breast of the coat carries a badge of a rearing stag within a crescent moon, surrounded by a laurel wreath. Sturdy brown trousers with green piping (or a divided riding skirt of brown satin for female members), cavalry boots, soft leather gloves, an Elizabethan pleated ruff and a cavalier’s plumed hat completed the ensemble.

Of course, this outfit is terribly conspicuous for urban hunts. The Fellowship restricts this outfit’s use for grand hunting parties in the country. During any sport hunt, though, Artemids identify themselves through a stag- and-moon badge somewhere on their clothing.

Haven: A large Artemid chapter owns multiple buildings, including a stable and kennel. The grand hunts require some place to train ghoul horses and hounds; this usually consists of a few acres on the fringe of small towns outside the city proper. A chapter also needs a clubhouse in town where the members can plan their hunts, socialize and discuss prospective new members or guests. A chapter’s pride, however, rests with a hunting lodge well outside the city. Such a lodge has space for all the members to sleep comfortably and perhaps enjoy a blood feast after the hunt, plus room for servants, dogs and horses. Hunting lodges tend to be magnificent structures.

The usual cover story given to people in any nearby small town is that an out-of-state tycoon owns the lodge and visits a few times a year to hunt. A privileged ghoul gets to drive through town and be seen during the day, playing the role of the visiting tycoon. In fact, the ghoul may shoot some deer or ducks during the day, in case any mortals should pass by. The lodge is remote enough, however, that the local mortals are not likely to notice the much larger hunt that happens at night.

Background: Hunting may not be a necessary part of life in the developed world anymore, but remains a popular hobby. Any Kindred community numbering more than several dozen probably includes a few sport hunters of various ages. These can form the start of a hunt club (though not every city’s Kindred have such a club). Building up a full-scale Fellowship chapter may take decades: acquiring kennels, stables and a country lodge take a lot of time and money. By then, the club becomes as much about backroom (or backwoods?) politics as about hunting. Every club begins, however, with a few genuine sportsmen: the Kindred have easier ways to conduct private meetings.

Once a club forms, Kindred who hunted when they were mortals obviously have an easier time joining. Vampires who have never hunted before may want to join for the social benefits, but this may not be easy. Some clubs merely ask members to pay their dues and let them learn the art of venery after they join. The Most Noble Fellowship takes a stricter course. Members must already have some skill at hunting and riding. Anyone who wants to join the Artemids needs a sponsor willing to

vouch for his abilities. Neonates who don’t yet know how to ride and shoot have to find someone willing to teach them — which usually means a vampire who’s already a member. The Artemids do allow members to invite guests on hunts or to use their facilities, so the barriers to membership are not very high.

Faction Disciplines: Animalism, of course, is the most useful of all Disciplines for a hunter. The Artemids consider it rank and shameful cheating to use Animalism upon the quarry, but the Discipline is acceptable for locating suitable game. Artemids also use Animalism to train their horses and hounds, and to direct them during a hunt. Being able to control your horse and dogs without the need for bridle, spurs, horn or voice brings great prestige to an Artemid.

Auspex is the other favored Discipline among the Fellowship. At the basic level, keener senses help reveal signs of likely quarry and help follow the prey through the night. Master huntsmen use the Spirit’s Touch to learn exactly what animal left a footprint or bit of dung, and how recently. Other Disciplines are not much use for sport hunters — though on some hunts, a few of the “hounds” may actually hunters in wolf-shape, using Protean.

Organization: Each chapter of the Most Noble Fellowship has up to three officers. The senior male member takes the title of Orion and bears principle responsibility for organizing hunts. He is also the member the Prince calls onto the carpet if hunters endanger the Masquerade. The next-most senior male member receives the title of Meleager. He typically handles the chapter’s finances and sees to the upkeep of properties. The senior female member (for most Kindred hunt clubs accepted women long before their mortal counterparts) is addressed as Atalanta. Though some chapters foist post-hunt party duties on their Atalantas, the faction has no strong traditions about this. An Atalanta can choose her own role in the chapter without much trouble. Fellowship chapters seldom bother with other offices, or they invent their own, such as Master of Hounds (in charge of selecting or breeding dogs) or Secretary (keeping the records for the club).

The Fellowship shares one old tradition with many mortal hunt clubs: the blooding of the novice. On his first hunt, a guest or new recruit has his cheeks and forehead smeared with the blood of the kill. Fellowship members call this the “baptism of Artemis” (a name not used by other hunt clubs).

A full-scale hunt may take two or three nights. The hunters may schedule a full night just to reach the lodge: the actual trip may take just a few hours’ drive, with dogs and horses carried in trailers, but the cautious Kindred like to plan lots of extra time for safety, in case a car breaks down or some other unforeseen emergency crops up. Some cities, however, are close enough to deep wilderness that the Artemids can drive out to their lodge, hunt for four or

five hours and drive back to the city before dawn. Especially dedicated hunters may turn their dogs and horses into ghouls for the hunt, so they become as strong, fierce and tireless as the Kindred themselves.

Given such animals, ordinary prey may not present enough of a challenge. Some hunt clubs prefer to ghoul the prey as well. For instance, every year a Washington chapter of the Most Noble Fellowship sends ghoul hunters to capture a bear or cougar. A senior member infuses the animal with his blood to turn it into a ghoul, then sends it back to the woods. A few nights later, the hunters arrive to chase a beast that’s stronger, quicker or tougher than any mortal animal. If their ghoul beast should happen to slay a merely mortal hunter or wander out of the Cascade Mountains and attack a child — well, such things happen without vampires, too.

For “the most dangerous game,” thrill-seeking hunters pursue other supernatural creatures. In the Most Noble Fellowship, a chapter hasn’t really attained bragging rights until it’s collected a werewolf “pelt” — even if that opportunity to kill is given to them in treaty by other werewolves. The Fellowship, though it has a somewhat self-important view regarding itself and Lupines, isn’t about to go breaking peace with werewolves just for sport. Sometimes, however, Fellowship members become the willing participants in plots of one werewolf pack against another.

Hunt clubs trade stories about spectacular and deadly hunts against other supernatural creatures, too. Some stories go around the world and become part of Kindred legend.

Supernatural prey may also include other vampires. Clubs like the Artemids always strive to take the lead when the Prince calls a blood hunt. The Most Noble Fellowship also sometimes conducts an “Actaeon” hunt, named after a mythical hunter whom Artemis turned into a stag so he was slain by his own dogs. In this deadly game, a Kindred volunteers to become the Fellowship’s quarry for one night. If the Actaeon can run from a re- lease-point to a pre-set terminus before the hunters catch him, the club members grant him a boon — a big boon, something only possible for a group of fabulously rich, politically connected Invictus members. If the hunters catch the Actaeon, of course, his unlife ends rather quickly. Actaeon hunts are forbidden in many Kindred domains, but Princes often wink at them. After all, the quarry is at least nominally a volunteer. (If the Actaeon has been maneuvered into some impossible situation, where “volunteering” for a hunt is the only way to escape utter disgrace or to save mortal loved ones, well, that’s the Danse Macabre for you.)

Desperate mortals can also be recruited for an Actaeon hunt. The club finds some mortal who would do anything for money, a transplant for a sick relative or some other great prize. The Artemids feed their Actaeon some Vitae and invest him with a ghoul’s strength, speed or toughness (depending on the donor Kindred’ clan), then release him into the woods with a one-hour head start to make the chase more sporting. As might be expected, the Invictus frowns on mortal Actaeons because this breaks the Masquerade, so