This has become the foundation
of modern Kindred society and the basis for the Masquerade that hides vampires
from mortal eyes. To reveal vampires to the mortal world would be disastrous
to both. While most people do not believe in vampires, there are enough who
do that revealing vampiric existence would place all Kindred at risk. In older
nights, during the Dark Ages and more superstitious ages, this Tradition was
less strictly enforced, and vampires rode through the night with few cares for
the mortal eyes who saw them. The Inquisition and Burning Times changed this
drastically, however, as those vampires who could be seen were slain and tortured
into revealing their secrets. While the youth may prattle about the Inquisition
as ancient history, it is still very fresh in the minds of the elders who survived
it. This is one of the greatest points of contention between the Camarilla and
the Sabbat -- the Sabbat sees no need to hide itself from the feeble kine, while
the Camarilla knows the opposite to be true.
A breach of the Masquerade is the most serious crime a vampire can commit, and
one of the easiest for a prince to fabricate if she wishes to punish an enemy.
Depending on how strictly the prince upholds the Masquerade, anything from using
vampiric powers in public to having mortal friends may constitute a breath.
To stave off their immortal boredom, many vampires skirt the Masquerade as closely
as they can, taking thrill from the forbidden rush that places their unlives
in jeopardy. The world has acknowledged many artists, poets, musicians, models,
club habitués, actors and fashion designers who, unbeknownst to the populace,
were vampires. Of course, many of these vampires saw their unlives come to abrupt
ends, as other Kindred decided that their continued existences were threats
to the Children of Caine as a whole.
The Masquerade is a dangerous balance; ironically enough, the elders who support
it most strongly are sometimes the ones who threaten it (albeit indirectly and
without their recognition). An apocryphal story tells of a pair of vampire-hunters
-- a new recruit and her patron -- on vigil in a nightclub. The patron said
to his charge, "There is a vampire in this establishment. Find him,"
whereupon the charge immediately selected the thin, pale gentleman in 18th-century
velvet and brocade. Sure enough, that was the vampire -- a Ventrue envoy from
a neighbouring city.