Make no mistake: We are older than the pyramids. Older than the Pharoahs. Older than Bubastis or the Sphinx that once bore our image. We are more ancient than the vampires, and the Striders and the tribes. We were the first. All others are usurpers.
When Mother Moon smiled down on the Nile's banks, she left our first-kin Cymaa as the guardian of those shores. Our Kin, the great cats of Kypur, roamed the night as agents of the gods. No, I do not dissemble. There were gods in those days. If they are gone, I will not weep. We have more freedom without their strictures, anyway.
I will go so far as to call Cymaa a goddess. A daughter of Queen Cat in Her regal aspect. With her children, she chased the spawn of Rat away from the pitiful food stores of the ancient Egyptians, who had yet to master brickwork, much less stone. The men of the Nile respected us, then. They called her Ubastet and flocked to be her lovers. When need be, we hunted them like rats, but overcome by curiosity, we soon allowed ourselves to become their friends. Over time, Ubastet taught them secrets of the Nyota Jamaa, and their wizards grew mighty. Then proud. Then too proud for our liking. They would have to be punished, And they were.
Great plagues fell upon them. The Nile flooded past its course and devastated the homes of man. The children of Ubastet relaxed and watched. When the rats returned, we drovbe them away, then waited for the credit. It came. It always did, after that. Wise people, those men of Khem.
I will never say we ruled. Why should we rule? What use has a cat for the duties of kings? Merely say that we recieved our due: food, shelter and secrets. Many secrets. They were clever, those men of Khem, and they invented complex signs and words of power. They gave form to the formless with their clever little names. I must say we were impresssed. So we kept a bargain, one that lasted many hundreds of years. We told them of the chaya. They told us their names of power. We defended them in the night. They gave us their own flesh and blood to keep our line strong. In time, they built a city in our honor -- Bubastis, our sanctuary, and the place our Kinfolk dwelled. We returned our lore to the Mother Moon each rising of the Nile, and everyone was satisfied.
Then came the vampires Osiris and Set. They have other, deeper names, but we will settle on those for now. Osiris had a wise wife, Isis, who knew the secrets of magic and shared them with us. She even lay with some of our tribe, and she sired a rich bloodline within our tribe. Set, or Sutekh, had rules a portion of the Upper Nile for hundreds of years. We shunned him, for the secrets retrieved from his cities were terrible even to mention. But when Menes, the first pharoah, united our lands with Set's, a war began. For two thousand years, Set battled Osiris. Imagine that: two thousand years of conflict! We sided with Osiris, of course. We even stood besides the jackal-headed Silten Striders, but still Sutekh prevailed. In vengeance, the corruptors looted our city and smashed the idols of Ubastet. Worst of all, they exterminated the cats of Kyphur. Our Kinfolk. Slain, or worse yet, turned into blood-drinking ghouls. It took two millenia, but our Kinfolk died -- and with them, our tribal strength.
This was not, I should dd, the worst oucome of the war. I tell you this secret now, so you will understand our path: We committed sacrilege against ourselves. In doing so, we doomed our descendants to share the "honors." You and I suffer today a curse our ancestors earned a millennia ago. There are some shadows that hide secrets too evil for consumption. The children of Ubastet reached into those shadows, and drew forth a blackened paw.
Look at your fur, and at mine. Black as midnight, yes? Without mark or highlight. This is the cost of those endless nights of spying. The secrets we learned turned us black as an unfound tomb. Once, we were a colorful rave, happy and spirited as well. Too many nights in the temples of Sutekh drained those colors from our fur, and leeched those spirits from our souls. We learned secrets that should have been left alone. Worse, we still hunger for them, even now.
Our Kin are dust, or worse. Our fur has been stained by the secrets we have learned. Our race is all but vanished, but still we prevail. Two thousand years later, we survive. We are older than the Pharoahs, and the arts at our fingertips are without compare. No shattered sculptures, we. One day, we will return to power. And we will thank Set's children for what they have done.
Tribal Background
This rare tribe has a sinister reputation as sorcerers and conspirators. It's not undeserved -- the Bubasti pass mysteries to each other in deep vaults and underground chambers. The magic they practice tends to center on spirits, the elements and souls, and occasionally involves the sacrifice of "lesser" beasts -- like humans. For almost 5000 years, they've been a part of the Nile Kingdoms. As the war between the vampire elders ripped those kinggdoms apart, the fortunes of the tribe suffered as well. The harshest penalty of tht fight, however, may well have been one that the shadowcats themselves brought on: the curse of eternal hunger.
These werecas are always lean and hungr: starved for food and drink, ravenous for knowledge. They literally can't get enough of either. By the time he reaches middle age, a Bubasti has probably acquire a hufe library, a host of enemies and a mortgaged soul. His power is often vast -- these cats are masters of Shadow Craft and even darker arts -- but it's never vast enough to statisfy him. The average shadowcat can eat a table's worth of food in one sitting and not gain a single pound of weight. This curse gives them an endless appetite, and they pursue it with abandon.
There's a certain glamor to their condition. Most shadowcats are eerily compelling, and most humans find them irresistible. They can argue anything from history to quantum physics, and carry an almost physical aura of command. Those sensitive to the touch of Cahlash (or the Wyrm) grow uneasy around a shadowcat, but people with morbid tastes flock to his side. This fascination may be one of the things that's kept the race alive. It hasn't been their feline Kin.
Long ago, the Egyptians worshipped the cats of Kyphur, a huge breed of wildcat that flourished along the lower Nile. These cats became the casualties of the tribe's long war with the vampiric Followers of Set. Most Kyphur cats were simply killed, but several of them were captured, Blood Bound and preserved as servants of the vampires. Aside from these gruesome relics, the breed has been extinct for 2000 years. In the deepst chambers below Cairo, Memphis and the tombs of Giza, the Followers of Set keep captive Kyphurs for their own amusement. These ghoulish beasts, now swollen to the size of panthers, live blind in filthy pens. Sometimes, for a favor, the Setites let a Bubasti see one of its ancestors. Occasionally, one might be even allowed to mate with it.
This insult has not gone unrewarded. A bitter if one-sided war has crept quietly along for nearly 2000 years. The shadowcats remain on the losing side, but they manage to bloody the noses of the Kindred every so often. This war has taught the Bubasti patience; hungry as they are, they learn how to delay a strike for years or even decades. Hidden between the cracks of some of the world's most ancient and overcrowded cities, a shadowcat or two reaches out every so often to tweak some vampire's nose before disappearing into the crowd agai. Their archives are filled with tomes and scrolls looted from the holdings of Set's children, and those cats who survive their forays grow clever and wise.
From birth, the Bubasti tend to be very quiet children. Books and questions are their passion, and they eat like theres no tomorrow. Most shadowcats are born to rich, scholarly families, but a growing number have come from the gutters. Until recently they were a sickly tribe, mentally impressive but physically frail from 2000 years of inbreeding. The millennia of Egyptian blood got an infusion in the 1800's when Napoleon's troops came through; the English and German occupations added another ethnic mix to the tribe's stagnant genes. The result has been a boon for the tribe; the Bubasti, whose birthrates and health had declined since the Ptolemaic Dynasty, have enjoyed a surge in vitality. More shadowcats have been born in the last century than there had been for ages past, and they've been stronger than their predecessors. The vampires may recieve an unpleasant surprise in the coming decades.
TRIBAL HOME
Unlike most Bastet, the shadowcats tend to remain in a single place for years or decades. Surprisingly, they have never fled their homeland despite their setbacks and ancient enemies. Perhaps it's pride that keeps them rooted to Egyptian soil, or maybe it's something more. Some outsiders claim there's a mystical connection between the tribe and their motherland. These guesses are closer to the truth than most Bubasti would admit.
Culture and Kinfolk
In their glory days, the shadowcats bred only with the noblest aristocracy. Those days ended long ago, and the last few centuries have seen strong infusions of "mongrel blood." This "contamination" has probably saved the trive, though no Bubasti would admit as much.
Since the slaguther of the Kyphur cats, Bubasti have bred with servals and caracals to keep their feline blood alive. This Kinship is weak, and produces very few cat-breed Bubasti. Weird magical rites including experiments with vampire blood and enchanted human "hosts," have bred feline offspring from human mothers. Horrifying tales of women giving birth to cats in Cairo delivery rooms attest that such experiements are occasionally... successful.
Organization
For Bastet, this trive is fairly unified. Six elders, called kheper, maintain sanctums deep in the bowls of Egypt's large cities; they meet once a year. Each one sponsors a group of two Bon Bhat, four Ilani, and a number of Tilau and Akas, who in turn watch over the Tekhmet. Estimates vary; according to common widsom within the tribe, 52 Bubasti exist across the world. The kheper try to keep close watch on those they know of -- at such numbers, every cousin is important. Although the kheper do not issue orders per se, their younger cousins know better than to refuse direct requests from such powerful Bastet.
During the hights of the Bubasti's influence, the tribe worked as a fairly unified group, meeting each full moon in the necropoli and celebrating terrible rites in the Temple of Bast. Each year, human celebrants joined the cats for a wild festival which lasted from late April to early May. Both normal cats and the larger Kyphurs were revered as sacred beasts, and their devotees flung themselves at the vampirea and their agents. Allied spirits filled the night, scourging the bloodsuckers with pains and plagues. The eldest Bubasti (who, according to legend, received eternal life during that powerful age) recall those days fondly. Every so often, they speak of a gathering of shadowcats and allies that will fill the streets of Cairo and return Egypt to its former glory. Most younger Bastet dismiss those plans as ravings, but who knows? If the elders are as old as they claim to be, and as patient, they may have set events in motion that could unite the tribe after all. Only time will tell. Meanwhile, the shadowcats lie still, emerging every so often to take a tidbit for their ever-present hunger.
SECRETS SOUGHT
Bubasti prefer to uncover ancient or forbidden lore, magical enigmas and gossip about vampires in general and the Followers of Set in particular.
YAVA
These secrests are so deeply guarded that even the Tkhmet don't know them. The passing of the yava occurs at the second Rank among the Bubasti, and involves blood-oaths before the kheper. The Followers of Set would do a lot to gain these tribal secrets, and young shadowcats are told "Better death than the serpent's kiss."
When all immortals of the tribe are slain, the tribe itself will die with them.
The Black Soil of Khem is forever tied to the tribe; if all Bubasti in a generation flee the land, they will be the last of their kind.
Bubasti are always hungry. Though no amount of food or drink will ease their craving, they will always eat what's put before them.
APPEARANCE
All Bubasti have a certain "look" -- dusky skin, black hair, greenish eyes and thin, long limbs. Even those cats with European blood adopt the traits of their more exotic parents. Bubasti are unusually attractive, with a graceful manner and disconcerting gaze. In cat-forms, these Bastet are always midnight black, without any form of markings.
Bubasti favor clothing and jewelry with a Middle Eastern flavor (never turbans, hoever), and conduct their secret ceremonies in classical Egyptian garb. In all forms, they stay exceedingly neat, even for werecats. Any Bubasti, regardless of race or breed, wears occult jewelry and symbols of some kind. Moon, ankh, scarab and eye motifs are common designs. The weapons they favor tend to feature slender blades and spikes, and can be quite artistic.
QUOTE:
If there's a viper in your soul, purge it. The road we walk is teacherous enough alone.
STEREOTYPES
Bagheera: Noble, I'll confess, but hopelessly rural. They favor their wild sides too much to be as enlightened as they would believe.
Balam: Savage, bloodthirsty monsters. How I would love to have one or two around for errands!
Ceilican: It's said that their kind is extinct, but being "extinct" myself, I find that difficult to believe.
Khan: Wonderful weapons when given a righteous cause. More cultured than those infernal lion-kin, yet refreshingly strong and ferocious. I sent one after a vampire once, and the results were pleasing to see.
Pumonca: A distant breed that I'll confess is a bit remote for my tastes. I've heard a great deal about them, but they keep to their land and I to mine. As long as they kill the Kindred, they're fine Folk in my book.
Qualmi: Too obtuse for my tastes. If their chattering held wisdom, I would gladly listen.
Simba: Obnoxious louts who deserve to be shaved. Some day soon, they will be. I'd be pleased to do the honors. Perhaps I shall.
Swara: Timid, nervous beasts, but Oh so quick. They make lovely pets if you convince them they're free.
