Red Sisters Midnight
In the Old World domains of inhospitable Princes, a great trade in Kindred contraband thrives. Whether a Cainite seeks relics of undead saints, verboten Thaumaturgical reagents, a brace of mute Sarmatian slaves, or even a fragment of the Book of Nod, someone has it for sale. In the gimlet light of a winter moon, one may find whatever he seeks in the stalls and wagons of the Red Sisters Midnight. Whether one seeks these rare treasures or would liquidate one’s own wonders, the Red Sisters Midnight act as brokers for items that may well have no worldly price.
Ravnos Kindred of the Phuri Dae bloodline curate this midnight market, turning their outcast status into a profitable arrangement. Prospective sellers leave their troubling wares with the witch-sisters of the clan, who handle all of the details of protecting the contraband, brokering the sale, and delivering the payment — in whatever terms the seller specifies, be it blood, cash, or more esoteric currency. The Red Sisters Midnight move these wonders through the domains of Europe, where their names are spoken in hushed tones, and the value of the hoard they peddle protects them from the ire of hostile Kindred. None would dare to steal the wares of these Ravnos, for one who stooped so low would expose himself not only to the curse-craft of their eldritch blood, but also the thousandfold vengeance of those who rely on the artifacts the sisters sell.
Who knows what blackness or thirst for redemption lies in the Kindred soul? Or what balms or banes these Ravnos witches have listed in their manifests that might quiet or enrage them? This nomadic trove rarely stays in the same domain for more than a week at a time. It communicates via whispers borne on the wings of crows to those who have earned its trust, entreating them to buy or sell with the Deceivers. Even the most vicious of Princes grants the Red Sisters Midnight a wide berth, when they know who they are and what they do. The insatiable Kindred lust for secrets causes Princes and Bishops alike to grant them protection — that and the flicker of hope that something among the grotesqueries on the wagon shelves will be just what they need on this particular night....
