Diamond Thunderbolt

The word Tantra is derived from the root word tan, meaning “to weave.” Many things are interwoven on the Tantric path, including the lives of all men and women. The purpose of this dynamic was the creation of partnerships devoted to the realization of ultimate truth. Thus, a sensual union between two souls constitutes not only a much-needed sacrifi ce on both parts but a much needed fulfi llment of the underlying enlightenment principle — that of being simultaneously united and yet distinctly separate. This sacred communion generates waves of bliss and harmony that turn the world itself into a mandala (container of essence) and shower forth a rain of cosmic nectar that satisfi es the spiritual hunger in the souls of all Earth’s inhabitants.

The Diamond Thunderbolt, a cult of vampires originating in Beijing, has taken this fundamental Tantric belief to a new level. Their own doctrine revolves around the fact that a key component of Buddhism is the notion of karma, or the belief that one carries his past with him through successive lives. As undead who no longer cycle through lives, members of the Diamond Thunderbolt feel that they are beholden to try to make a difference in the time they have until the end of the world arrives. Being forever denied true mortal intimacy, they believe they must take their sacred communion in the only way they can: through the transmission of blood, which they view as the “nectar” of the world fl owing through them in liquid form. To this end, followers of this doctrine are taught to freely exchange blood with other mortals and vampires, in a pure and more actualized exchange of this sensual energy. In addition to creating high numbers of ghouls and even new Kindred, this free exchange of “nectar” results in the formation of a unique and powerful blood bond between and among believers, similar to the Vinculum created through the practices of the Sabbat. Unlike the Vaulderie, however, wherein a portion of each participant’s blood is mixed into a bowl with the resultant mixture then sipped by all involved, followers of this doctrine engage in one-on-one blood transfusions with multiple partners simultaneously, often spending hours upon hours engaged in ritual bloodsharing. The result is a group of very tightly knit vampires, each bound to the most powerful blood circulating through the “orgy.” The Kindred to whom this potent blood belongs becomes the Regnant for all the individual bonds created through this practice.

A vampiric follower of this philosophy calls himself a vajra (pl. vajrae) and perceives himself as a tool of creation, used to maintain the worldly mandala. While the vajrae may at fi rst seem to be simply a hedonistic cult of Tantric vampires engaging in Bacchanalian orgies of bloodlust and abandon, a sincere and deep-seated sense of commitment and belief underlies their sordid practices. A common Tantric metaphor for passionate union is the image of the “churner” and the “churned.” When a diamond scepter churns his partner, he is engaging in the effi cient cause of the nectar of Buddhahood — bliss is generated by churning. The notion of churning also refers to the Hindu myth wherein gods and demons churn the cosmic ocean of milk to extract its nectar. The goddess Sakti is called through this process, and her sexual fl uids become the immortalitybestowing nectar the gods are seeking. It is this “nectar” that vajrae believe sustains them throughout eternity. Thus, churning one’s yogic partner (and thus stimulating the fl ow of Sakti’s nectar) mirrors the stirring of the cosmic ocean for its potent, life-giving energies. While most vajrae do believe in the existence of the Antediluvians (whom they perceive as ancient, fallen vajrae), they believe that the Caine fi gure of Kindred legend is none other than Sakti herself, who will one night return to claim her due. If her followers are prepared, Sakti will reward them (and only them) with a release from their earthly burdens and duties, sending them gracefully into the waiting arms of Nirvana.

History
Although the practice of Tantra has been a part of Buddhism more or less since its inception, the vampiric cult that grew to embrace its teachings fi rst began its existence in Beijing some years after the Boxer Rebellion. One of the 20,000 “peacekeepers” sent to China was a young British soldier and sometime poet named Jameson who, during his brief tenure among the living, had pursued Buddhist thought and Tibetan culture with as virtuous a hand as could have been expected of an Englishman of his age at that time. Although Jameson was mortally wounded during one of the fi nal clashes with the entrenched Boxers, he found himself saved at the last moment by a sympathetic Kindred of Buddhist persuasion. It seems that what little remained of the Chinese Sabbat who had attempted to gain a foothold had intended to use the native resentment of foreigners to their advantage, taking the opportunity the revolt presented to excise some of the more entrenched of Camarilla hard-liners in Beijing. Although the execution of the idea suffered from its own “short notice” (and thus the subsequent lack of any real planning), the movement did garner one unexpected success in the form of the young Briton’s Embrace. Jameson took to undeath with a curious vigor, spurred by his unwavering belief in the fundamental principles of Tantric Buddhism.

When Jameson’s sire — the leader of Beijing’s most powerful nomadic pack — died by means of an unknown assailant’s sword, he quickly took over as pack ductus. Since then, the man who was once known as Jameson has risen to prominence in Beijing’s sorely challenged but evergrowing Sabbat population and is now regarded as one of that city’s bishops within the sect. Although he keeps his political duties separate and distinct from his religious ones, he has brought unity and purpose to his pack in particular, and many have been so awed by the undeniable results his teachings bring, they too have begun to believe and are starting to follow his leadership by example.

Reference

 * Vampire The Masquerade - State of Grace, p. 104, 105