Tzimisce

Since before recorded history, the Tzimisce have resided in the mountains and fastnesses of the Old World, shutting themselves away from the pathetic mortal herd from which they feed. Absolute rulers of their territories, they are jealous, possessive creatures, deeply connected to the land and its mystic powers. They protect their domains viciously, living in groups based on lineage – a sire and her adoring childer – and know how to manipulate the blood bond with a cruel and expert touch. Aeons in their stone castles have twisted the Tzimisce's spirit, and long centuries of study have given them mastery over flesh; they have the ability to shape and craft it as one might alter clay. They practice a philosophy revering metamorphosis, looking beyond the fragile physical body in an attempt to discover the nature of the soul. Detached and scientific, Tzimisce use mortals both for food and for experimentation. They care nothing at all about humans, discarding the poor creatures ruthlessly when they are of no further use. Tzimisce mystics know a great deal about the spirits of the earth, and practice a form of magic they call koldunism. They jealously guard these secrets, particularly from the Tremere, whom they see as usurpers of their ancient power. They look upon the other clans as pretenders and weaklings, rutting and living among the very animals they eat. To show their disdain, many Tzimisce craft their own flesh into strange, monstrous works of art, with crowns of horn and clothing fashioned from sculpted skin.