The Masquerade

Core Rules & Lore — The Hollow Masquerade Chronicle

The First Law of the Dead

The Masquerade is not tradition, it is not courtesy, it is not culture. It is survival.

For centuries the Kindred have been predators in the dark, but mortals are many, and we are few. History records what happens when secrecy fails: pogroms, witch-hunts, pyres, inquisitions, the Burning Times. Every time vampires grew arrogant enough to show their fangs, mortals answered with fire, stake, and sunlight. Those who say secrecy is weakness forget their ashes are scattered in forgotten fields.

The Camarilla calls it their gift to the damned — an edict of secrecy woven into Tradition. The Anarchs call it camouflage, a trick to keep the fire at bay while they scheme and rage. The Unbound simply call it common sense. But no matter what the name, the truth remains: without the Masquerade, there are no vampires.

Origins of the Masquerade

The Masquerade hardened in the centuries following the Inquisition, when priests with torches and scholars with books conspired to expose our kind. Stories of demons and witches were no longer whispers; they became records, confessions, edicts. Humanity had discovered the first hints of science, and we were in danger of becoming specimens instead of myths.

The Camarilla declared the Masquerade in the 15th century as its cornerstone. Secrecy was no longer suggestion, but law. All Kindred, willingly or not, fell under its shadow. The Sabbat scoffed, preferring open war and religious frenzy, but even they obey in practice — for even zealots burn when the mob turns.

The Anarchs inherited the Masquerade by necessity. They rage against princes and elders, but they are not fools; they know mortals with cameras are deadlier than sheriffs with blades. Their writings often admit it: the Camarilla may be tyranny, but the Masquerade is the one good idea they ever had .

How the Masquerade Works

The Masquerade is not about perfection. It is about plausible denial. Mortals may see, but they must not believe. A Kindred who feeds in an alley and leaves no body maintains the Masquerade. A Kindred who flies across rooftops in full view of a thousand cameras does not.

• Feeding: No open hunts. Mortals must vanish into statistics — “mugging,” “overdose,” “domestic violence.”

• The Blood: Use your gifts sparingly. A glimpse of speed in a dark street is dismissed as adrenaline. But hurl a car across a freeway, and no mortal will mistake it for chance.

• The Embrace: A new vampire is a liability. Without permission, they are breach embodied. To create childer without sanction is both crime and curse.

• Speech: No telling mortals of our courts, clans, or sects. To reveal Kindred society is to paint a target on every back.

The Masquerade is a constant negotiation: how much can I take without leaving a mark? Every night is a test.

Breaches and Punishments

The Camarilla codifies breaches in three grades:

• Minor Breach — A mortal glimpses fangs, hears something uncanny, or survives a feeding. Punishment: fines in Judas Silver, forced boons, exile from a district.

• Major Breach — Evidence spreads to mortal authorities, hunters, or media. Punishment: torpor, branding, loss of territory, or Final Death.

• Catastrophic Breach — The city itself risks exposure. Punishment: immediate Final Death. No debate, no defense.

The Anarchs do not keep such neat categories, but their justice is swifter: those who endanger the many are destroyed by the many.

The Enforcers of Silence

• Princes claim the right to blood hunt any who risk exposure.

• Sheriffs and Hounds patrol the night, cleaning up breaches with fang and fire.

• Harpies wield reputation like a dagger. Even if a breach is covered, gossip ensures the offender is ruined.

• Elders enforce simply by presence: when an ancient stirs, whole districts fall silent.

Among the Anarchs, the Masquerade is enforced socially and violently. Betray the pack, and you may not see another sunrise.

The Masquerade as Weapon

To accuse a rival of a breach is to strike at their very unlife. Princes use it to eliminate enemies, Harpies to destroy reputations. An accusation alone can exile a neonate or topple an ancilla. In New Orleans, whispers of “Masquerade violation” are more feared than blades.

The Masquerade in New Orleans

The Crescent City thrives on spectacle. Mortals already expect masks, parades, and strange rituals. The Masquerade bends with the city’s breath:

• Mardi Gras: The Carnival Pact declares one night of feeding frenzy disguised as festival. Masks upon masks — neonates gorge, elders watch. To mortals, it is all performance. To Kindred, it is a battlefield disguised as dance.

• French Quarter: Theaters, jazz halls, and revels provide endless camouflage.

• Garden District: Old money conceals old blood; feeding in parlors and courtyards is hidden behind lace curtains.

• Tremé: History and resistance cloak Nosferatu warrens and Anarch havens.

• Cemeteries: Mausoleums serve as lairs; funerals are perfect cover for hunts.

• Docks & Bywater: Smugglers wash away evidence in the Mississippi.

• Uptown: Universities provide herds for neonates, feeding in plain sight under neon lights.

Here, the Masquerade is not hidden — it is performed. The entire city is theater, and vampires are its true directors.

Philosophical Schisms

• Camarilla Orthodoxy: The Masquerade is civilization. Without it, we return to barbarism.

• Anarch Pragmatism: The Masquerade is camouflage. Necessary, but no sacred truth.

• Carnivalist Heresy: The Masquerade is strongest when it is theater. Hide the truth in plain sight by drowning mortals in masks and revels.

Case Studies in Breach

• The Bourbon Street Breach (1978): A Brujah neonate frenzying during Carnival tore apart three mortals before a crowd. The Sheriff executed him on the spot. Witnesses assumed it was “performance art.” Harpies still whisper of the irony.

• The Jackson Square Incident (1999): A Toreador filmed feeding on an artist. The video spread briefly before Nosferatu scrubbed it. She was forced into torpor, her art destroyed. To this night, her coterie claims it was a frame job.

• Hurricane Katrina (2005): Widespread chaos allowed many breaches. Corpses in flooded streets were blamed on the storm, but Kindred remember the feeding frenzy. Some elders argue the Carnival Pact has its roots here — proof that spectacle can erase any crime.

Final Word

The Masquerade is not fragile. It is elastic, bending with each generation, adapting to each city. But it is not unbreakable.

Every vampire in New Orleans knows this truth: the Masquerade bends, but it never breaks. Those who forget are buried in the Cities of the Dead, their Judas Silver melted into the Prince’s vaults, their names erased from memory.