[Vampire: The Requiem] The Neonate - "Entry 3: An email from Mary Jane"

((In Character (IC) Document:

Venue: Chronicles of Darkness - Vampire: The Requiem (The Strix Chronicle)

Character: Christopher "\/00|>00" Langer
Post by Jerad Sayler & Raen Schadden))

9 November 2009

An Email from Mary Jane, from a different email address. And the plot thickens…

Chris,

J You finding my e-mail address doesn't bother me.  It’s out there enough, and it’s my preferred method of having another lick get hold of me.

I will be the first to admit, the Lancea et Sanctum is not for everyone.  We're a Covenant of faith, purpose, and drive.  I won't even say salvation given that if you're reading the notebook, you'll see that salvation isn't high on priority list.  Service to God and His Divine Plan is.  Those who are driven to excel in the performance of our holy mandate from God will come to the Sanctified.  They'll let go of secular concerns in favor of the spiritual, and set themselves to the grindstone of becoming the best fucking predator they can be. 

Being a member of the faithful does not require membership in the Covenant.  It just requires that you read the book and believe what the book is telling you.

This is also part of the reason I was telling you to slow down.  You're new to the city.  You're looking for a safe place to take stock of what's what in your requiem.  I understand that.  I've been there myself.  You got off on the wrong foot... and that happens.  So what we'll do is sit down without interruption and get a handle on what you know about life among the Damned.  I'll show you where you can feed and where you shouldn't so you can stay out of trouble.  You can voice your desire to become part of the city, and as an acknowledged member of the city, you'll have something of a safe haven.  Then you can start asking about Covenants.  Then you can start learning what they're about.  And when you know what you're talking about, you can pick the one that best suits you.

I didn't help you to convert you, Chris, although I appreciate that you're reading that notebook.  I helped you because you were floundering and you needed a hand.  No more, no less.  This is part of my mission from God.  J If you want to talk about the notebook, though, I'll be happy to have that conversation with you.  Given the Reverend in front of my name, I'm sure you've guessed that's also part of my mission from God. 

Since I was a little wrapped up in what was going on, I didn't hear all of the particulars of you coming into the city.  Did you apologize to Prince Berrings for being in his city for that period of time without saying anything?  Did you find out why Mr. Hawthorne was offended?

Mary Jane

How best to voice a response?  I sat on it for a while before writing back, the night dragging on.

Mary Jane,

Regardless of your motives, as we are all creatures of agenda, I greatly appreciate your tutelage.  You're right of course, I do need to slow down.  Part of my haste in the matter says something about my prudence and decisiveness, especially when it comes to survival.  Part of it has to do with the endless nights that stretch between court when I feel like I accomplish little, do little, and know few of my kind to spend my nights with.  The last months have been utter isolation from everyone I knew and it caps off a short requiem with only one crazed Sire who could have any chance to relate me.  And now I've made contact with others, and I hunger for this company like I hunger for blood because it’s preferable to staring into the night and the vast empty network of information pulsing through the air.  I know I can't go back to anything resembling my old life, and that all interaction with Kine will result in either slavery or death for them, and I can't stand either option. 

It’s funny that I want some new Kindred to relate to when every time I see one I want to run away or try to punch them in the face.

Maybe I can't relate to this ultimate predator thing, but I'm on my way, I've begun the spiral down.  I would take all the time in the world to choose my allegiances but the Prince, after our encounter, has given me a deadline of a month.  And with the court not occurring until next month I have precious little time, and I greatly dislike of asking him for more time after he spared me some serious punishment.  

If you can help get me over this obstacle I own you a favor of equal value (and the wheeling and dealing start...).  I have computer skills as I mentioned before, as well as the ability to get around town unseen and into places quite well.  If you need information, I can get it.  That goes for your Covenant too, but for them, I will need something in return of course.

I was immediately attracted to the Lancea et Sanctum because you appear to be the only creatures that believe in anything.  The Invictus in town seem a petty elitists club only concerned with material gain, and I have only cared for survival.  The Acolytes I spoke with just seem to be blood sorcerers who believe in every mythology but only as much as it suits them.  The Ordo Dracul are mad scientists poking everything supernatural with a stick and vulgarly trying to make it do something they want without consequence, book worms lost in research and not too appealing.  In all fairness, I didn't get to talk to any members of the Movement but everyone calls them undirected rabble only causing trouble, begging for change while descending into anarchy.  Sure you have the good ones but is it worth dealing with the vast sea of bad? 

You all burn with this faith and passion I can only miss because it’s a reflection of everything I feel I have lost.  I've read the first book of the Testament, Malediction.  Rather than rather than bombard you with questions that might get answered further on I will keep reading and keep my thoughts to myself for now.  I plan to finish it so we can discuss its contents at the next Court; I will also tell you more about myself if you are willing to return the courtesy.

I've set things right with the Prince for now, and I already apologized to the kind Mr. Hawthorne for calling his explanation of the First Estate a "speal" after he was nice enough to facilitate setting things right with the city's master.  I’m a bit socially awkward and lack the tact that I'm sure hundreds of years bring.  I'm ready when you are to show me around town and get me "squared away" as you say whenever you would like.  Just don't treat me like a kid or your lost puppy, I know you're old and I seem open and trusting.  But I only go so far on faith, the minuscule I have, and I'm sure as soon as we hit the uncompromising side of mistrust I'll start acting much more like your Kindred brethren.

Thanks again for the help, I'm waiting for the catch,

Still Chris.

I agonize on the letter a few hours after midnight.  Paranoia and survival go hand in hand.  After our first long talk, I’ve been extremely open with Mary Jane… I wonder if I’ve been mesmerized.  I’ve heard that there are tricks other… licks… can do tricks that make you trust them, open up.  I wonder if her openness and genuine empathy are just a method of extracting information.  After a while the possibilities cascade and I just hit send.  Fuck it.  This was all about taking a chance right?  Safety in numbers, something to fill the nights with other than the hunt and the keyboard.

10 November 2009

I feel different tonight, though I can’t put my finger on what could possibly be different about me.  I am unchanging and have been for half a decade, why do I feel different?

I spend half the night scowering the internet for current events of the city and how I can link them to the movements of other supernaturals.  There are rumors of a small group of “witches” operating in the city, no more than eight and they all have at least one meeting place.  As for the influences of my fellow Kindred they seem to elude me though I’ve had fun watching how Mr. Hawthorne does business… I can take notes from this Invictus.

My identities take maintenance as well.  I didn’t really take Dean Ritcher’s house, I quickly liquidated his assets and bought this new apartment.  Any neighbors who knew him are far away and my new neighbors will only know my hooded form heading into the night.  I have numerous credit card data, the people are still alive, I use them here and there and since most of the purchases are small and in areas the owners actually live they don’t grow suspicious and cancel them very quickly.  Don’t develop a spending pattern and ditch the card at the first sign of trouble and you can go a long while with the owner none the wiser.  The other way is to create several very fake identities, just enough to get a credit card sent to the Radisson or some other hotel, max it out and ditch it, easy money.

I’m haggling over a price with a fellow hacker, he wants some of my software tools, I’d rather just get him what he wants so I can have repeat business from him.  But I keep raising the price and I’m wondering how far he will go for a port scanner like mine, the key is to give in and sell it before he finally finds someone cheaper, but he will have a very hard time finding a program this good.  I think I’ll give his version a bit of spyware integrated to I can get into his computer and activity and exploit anything useful.  I plan to keep this relationship as long as its useful and at the end, I will liquidate his life just like all the others.  As the apartment draws heat from the rooms below preventing me from having to turn on the furnace I realize I model so much of my requiem of leeching off of others in so many more ways than blood.

And what night wouldn’t be complete without a little extracurricular activity?  Around 3 in the morning I dart across the street to the nearby church, a squat adobe colored building with a brown wooden cross on the top and a sign that reads “Harbor Lights.”  I’ve discovered with a slight display of agility I can get on to the roof.  From there I can break into the simple ventilation system and find myself in a cozy maintenance room.  The environmental systems for the building are housed here as well as a lot of equipment.  I’ve been scoping out this place for a while now, seeing what changes in this room, and the rest of the church.  In a pinch, it might make a good place for an emergency haven, during the week of course.  Beats that broken hole in the cemetery on Academy…

After my surveillance of the interior, I spend some time on the rooftop.  The fall wind makes the skeletal trees and dead grasses seem to wriggle and reach out for heat and life where there is none.  Dead leaves crackle like dried bones and the sky is an orange haze.  From here I can see all of what I want as my domain, and the traffic on the nearby road and slowed to a trickle in the early morning hours. 

I wouldn’t mind taking someone up here with me; I guess I just am lonely.  She’s got a game she’s playing like everyone else and doesn’t strike me as a “night stalker” anyway.  I crouch near the chimney alone, a hole in mortal sight, contemplating how best to expedite the rest of the month.  The fear and thrill of the city’s night people.

[Vampire: The Requiem] The Neonate - "Entry 2: Common Courtesy"

((In Character (IC) Document:

Venue: Chronicles of Darkness - Vampire: The Requiem (The Strix Chronicle)

Character: Christopher "\/00|>00" Langer
Post by Jerad Sayler))

7 November 2009

 The next night investigate the Rack invisibly and encounter none of my kind though I don’t go in to any of the dives, restaurants, or other shady establishments of Tejon Street.  I don’t know if this is going to be much help to me, just not my method…  How the hell am I supposed to feed?  I don’t chat up drunks.

My neighbor downstairs now has two barking mutts they lock out on their balcony…  They yap and yap disturbing my research, leisure, and anything I do in my Haven.  With a little invisibility and acrobatics and make my way down… I had fantasized about dropping baker’s chocolate down here for the little bastards.  They are fluffy little things and their poop and little yellow puddles fill the concrete protrusion.  I don’t blame the dogs, I blame the owners neglect… I can see a shadow through the light of the curtains, someone watching TV in the living room. 

I wait patiently, perched on the thick wooden side watching the dogs bark even louder, wonder if they know I’m here.  When the owner goes into another room I appear as I snatch the first dog, it yelps and I drain it quickly, not leaving a mark but tossing its lifeless body over the side to the street two stories below.  The next dog is going hysterical, I cover its mouth with a gloved hand and drain it, using my teeth to tear open its belly, not sure what the owner will come up with… I toss it over too.  I can here he/she coming, I jump over too, making myself unseen once more…

I watch from a shadowed corner as the obese woman deals with her dogs somehow jumping over the side… she’s more angry and confused at the moment, the noises she makes are better than those fucking mutts.  Think about your neighbors next time lady… common courtesy. 

In hindsight, my heightened senses may have contributed to my annoyance.  Also hunger…. And an anger I’ve used before but don’t feel fully comes from ‘me.’  It’s like there is this thing curled in my gut, waiting to be let out of its cage.  Cailyph and Virgil always said that every Kindred has a demon inside them, the demon in the blood.  I don’t want to believe that is true.

With peace and quiet I scourer the internet, Mary Jane hasn’t contact me yet and I’m growing impatient for some reason, and manage to find an old email she might have used.   I risk sending a message, if she no longer uses it I will have to wait, oh well… so many of the undead neglect technology.  If they even have emails they don’t check them very often.  I carefully set up my VPN and encryption services for the message.

Reverend Mary Jane,

I must thank you for being the only kindred who seems willing to take me under their wing.  I seem nothing more than a nuisance to Mr. Asim and to the Mehket of this city.  Upon first impression I've managed to irritate the Prince and his Hound as well as offend Mr. Hawthrone as well.  Luckily everyone in attendance seemed distracted by some sort of altercation occurring when court was supposed to take place.  I'm still gathering information on that, perhaps we could exchange information on that matter?  I was completely overwhelmed and not myself, I have never seen so many of our kind in one place.  I prefer to remain out of sight and out of mind, especially around others like us, instead I felt very exposed.

I went to court, put myself out there, and you’re the only one smart enough to bite... good on you.  I've heard about the Lancea et Sanctium, and frankly they seem like they would be my least favorite bunch, but I am intrigued after meeting some in person.  Perhaps it wasn't being explained to me by the right people, and I do find myself without purpose or salvation as you would say.  Perhaps it's your energy and charisma that holds my attention Sway.

...And don't be upset that I found this email address.  If it's on the net then it's not safe from me.  My skills are the reason I was embraced in the first place.  Perhaps we can meet and talk about this little notebook you left with me if you are willing to tell me more.

To others Langer, but you may call me Chris.

8 November 2009

Bought a basic security system to supplement my locks tonight from a nearby hardware store.  While I’m active, if anyone opens my door or windows without quickly entering the key an audio alarm will sound.  I emailed my landlady about it, she will have to tell me when she sends anyone in so I can leave it off.  When I asked her before she said she approved of such precautions so long as I was willing to pay and could access the apartment when needed.  This is a good thing, if I know someone who is doing maintenance needs to come in I can make sure I’m in a garbage bag in the attic.  The downside is I didn’t connect it to a phone line and the police, I don’t want them barreling in for anything… so it serves little more than as a deterrent and alerting me if I am home.  I need to fit it out to dial out to me using VoIP later.

9 November 2009

I wake as usual, in a sleeping bag behind a row of boxes in the spacious walk in closet.  One second dead and motionless, dreaming of a life long gone, next moment my cold blood quickens me with a jolt.  The nights are getting longer and the darkness setting in sooner.  That means more play time.  I climb out and into the bedroom.  A queen sized bed which is always made and darkness.  The only the light is the glimmer of streetlights and traffic from the patio screen covered with a thick quilt.

I go into the bathroom, not really to freshen up, no need, I just feel compelled tonight.  I squint my eyes tightly and turn on the light, biting back the unease at the sudden burst of light.  I stare at my reflection, a blurred pale face in a black hoodie and sweat pants.  If I could see my face I would see a dark eyed short haired 19 year old, I concentrate on the blur and slowly it gets clearer with a great act of will.  I’m almost breaking out in a blood sweat when I finally see myself clearly.  Now that I think about it, it doesn’t really look like me, and I guess it doesn’t matter.  I change into some jeans and the same hoodie, put on the black leather gloves and add my knives, check my phone – no messages, - check my emails – nothing significant… time to prowl.

The night is cool but pleasant by my standards.  The air is crisp and dry, a light breeze blows the dead leaves around my feet as I make myself a hole in space and rush past the skeletal trees.  The massive peaks to the west are dark and shadowed as always, the last glimmer on the behind them gives the hints to snow at their utmost summits.  I love running through the night like a bad thought, to never get tired and to be invisible and dead to the world.  I avoid the cars with their harsh headlights and dart down the more rural streets on the nearby homes.

Tonight I prowl Prince Berring’s territory, the area I already live in, East of Powers Blvd. Specifically, Cimarron Hills, my immediate area and a Domain I hope to claim as a DMZ from the rest of the predators of the night.  Shouldn’t be too hard to get I figure, it’s just houses directly North of the Air Force Base, not good feeding at all.  

As I head north I spot a homeless man making his way towards the Walmart on Palmer from the North gate of the base.  No doubt he noticed the military members going home and now he needs a new place to beg.  He’s the typical bum-level of disheveled, brown worn hunting jacket, stubbly unkempt hair, wool cap, and of course holding a piece of cardboard with something heartbreaking written on it.  There is humanity and then there is necessity… and he’s too easy of a meal to pass up.  I shouldn’t have trouble stopping, lucky for him, I’m not starving.  The dogs helped a lot.

It’s even easier than I thought, the roads here are even more poorly lit then the rest of the town.  It just seems like Colorado Springs is darker than it should be, the stars are hidden under dim old orange city lights, I like it.  Mehket like the dark after all.  He coughs violently as I approach, but doesn’t turn around, not the healthiest specimen.  It’s a simple matter to come up behind him and chomp down on his exposed neck while grabbing him roughly under the arms.  He starts to swoon and I burn a little blood, surging it into my muscles so I can easily hoist him into the ditch and tree line a dozen feet away.  His blood hits me like a hot blast, instantly warming me from the inside out like a scalding shower.  He might be sick and slightly malnutritioned but damn that’s good!  I bed him down in the ditch and have a hell of a time stopping…  My heightened senses overwhelm me with the smell of his smelly body, the prickle of his hair on my hand, his parted flesh between my lips tingling.  This was a very good idea…  I do manage pull away and heal the wound healed, his eyes flutter, and I’m darting down the street cloaked by shadows again.  I feel alive and energized, it’s intoxicating… I throw on a burst of speed and dart past a car roaring up the street, wasting some of the blood I just drank to keep up, careless and free.

I go home, what a rare find!  And check my mail, why does the postal service fucking spam everyone so?  Do I want a yellow pages, a million coupons to places I will never eat, even if I was alive?  I toss the dominos coupons away last after looking at their new grilled sandwiches.  Part of me really misses food, I want to WANT to take a bite but as soon as something that was once delicious comes to my lips they recoil repulsed by the ball of rancid fat and grease before me.   I only love blood, and everything else is a memory, even having a nice girl taking care of me.  Among the mail there is one relevant piece, a small electric bill addressed to my dead buddy Dean Ritcher.  I took his life when I flew into town.  Then I took his apartment, his car, and his bills as a result.  My identity theft keeps my wallet full of cash and credit card scams take care of my major purchases.  Having him quit his job without suspicion was the only hard part, but I manage.

I go back into my apartment, enter the security code.  It’s slightly warmer in here; I keep it around 60 because it’s practical and not so suspicious.  Same reason a keep a few bits on nonperishable food in the cupboard. 

I pay the bill online and then open the notebook MJ gave me.  The testament of Longinus…  I burned through the first book Malediction in about 40 minutes.  I read the words of the Bastard, the Soldier, and the Son of Satan.  He was the opposite of Christ in every fashion, fulfilled every vice, and lived without fear or regret, and inversed Christ’s entire life.   He had 12 criminals, one who he betrayed, and after turning into the damned starved for 40 nights in the desert and passed Satan’s tests.  The tip of the spear of Destiny, I am fascinated to learn was made from a meteor and was lost before the flood and refound.  It was given to Pilate as a gift and he gave it to his corrupt and favored centurion. 

At the tomb of Christ a dark angel told them it was the purpose of the damned to show man sin and instill fear into them so that they will seek the glory of good, he couldn’t feed on Christ’s followers.

Just like the bible I have a hard time believing it, where is he now then?  He was immortal and very powerful right?  Is he sleeping in a grave somewhere?  And how is this text any more believable than then the stories of the bible?  What elders are pulling the strings and benefitting from this text?  And why would I want to exemplify the creed of surely the most evil man I’ve ever heard of?   He was cursed for his sin, he deserved it.  And when I tried to kill myself and instead was embraced, in that snow bank long ago, maybe I deserved it too… but I believe in good, and even as wicked as I am in my inherit nature, I still revere life because it is better than me.  Even some of most wretched of mortals is better than the most pious of these Sanctified, and me too.

[Vampire: The Requiem] The Neonate - "Entry 1: Predator Politics"

((In Character (IC) Document:

Venue: Chronicles of Darkness - Vampire: The Requiem (The Strix Chronicle)

Character: Christopher "\/00|>00" Langer
Post by Jerad Sayler))

6 November 2009 “Predator Politics”

I figure I should keep my thoughts straight on what is going to happen from this point on.  I’ve taken the plunge.  After sneaking around this city for about a month and a half and being forced to dodge the large numbers of my kind in the city it’s time to face the music.  Without being recognized by the rulers of Colorado Springs I face death at the hands of anyone strong and smart enough to corner me.  So I stretched out with my electronic hands to make contact on my own terms.

There’s a man whose of course not a man, Ethan Hawthorne.  He’s a reputable business man downtown, seems greedy and power hungry.  I’ve looked for the signs and I know he’s Kindred, so a few nights ago I sent a message directly to official email, laced with cryptic ideas.  He answered back quickly and directed me to meet with the Priscus of the Mehket clan, a Donovan Asim.

I met with Asim briefly before the court, he was gracious enough to want to smooth things over with the city politic and see that despite my hedge-existence up until now I would be absorbed politely into the Danse Macabre.  I am grateful that he has offered the protection of the Mehket clan for the time being but demands I join a covenant within the next few months.  As the night wore on and I clung to him like a lost puppy I felt like a nuisance and that he would not make a suitable mentor.

Outside under the streetlights, I spoke quietly with the members of my clan in attendance.  Donovan is a member of the Ordo Dracul and this night he runs off to perform some sort of nefarious errand to the Nosferatu’s Undercity for his Covenant, sounds dangerous, and I’ve already made friends with a troublemaker.  Ethan Hawthorne is a very official looking Mehket and the Primogeon of the Invictus, he is young for one is such a position and is quite helpful in his attempts to recruit me into the First Estate. Ulrich Havelock VonReichstad, Master of Elysium, and a member of the Circle of the Crone is also there.  He wears dated clothing and carries a wicked dragon cane which later I see turn into a bladed weapon along the hilt.  Lastly, there is Mycroft Valentine, another man with a goatee and cane, Primogeon of the Ordo Dracul and Grand Wyrm.  Neither of these elders cast a shadow and many times that night I heard to them referred to as “Hollow,” not even their voices echo on the walls.

In my wanderings from various penthouse rooms of the Broadmoor Hotel I ran into the prince himself, Johnathan Berrings of the Carthian Movement.  I answered so simple questions about myself and he almost gave into anger at the prospect of me sneaking around his city for so long, feeding where I wanted, and without being able to recite the traditions!  I was whisked away by Mr. Hawthrone and confronted by Mr. Asim in an empty room.  Asked me a lot of questions about my previous nomadic lifestyle in North Dakota and why my wicked sire Cailyph had not given me proper instruction on the way of things.  I soon found myself in the Prince’s office offering a formal apology and explanation for my behavior.   He accepted with grace and was going to formally recognize me in court in a few hours, I would be granted Citizenship and access to feed at the Rack (downtown).  He did, however, demand that I join a Covenant within a month and a half (the same duration I stuck around).

I continued to go from room to room, mostly feeling unwanted by the Kindred contained within.  I was confronted by the Hound, a brutish dragon by the name of Orcus, who wanted to stake me for making him look bad and slipping through his nets for so long.  Once the fear and predator’s taint faded I feel a certain sense of satisfaction for pissing them off.  These Kindred of polite society aren’t so tough, and this won’t be the first time I will impress them. 

While waiting for the court to start I spoke with Dr. Sirius of the Circle of the Crone and a few other members as well.  This bald imposing man in the black trench coat has a reputation for being wicked, powerful, and is jokingly referred to as “the monster under the bed” and later “the monster in the bed” as he appears to like to sleep around.  He is known for having dozens of Childer spread throughout the country and even told me that he had once slept with a werewolf.  He was intriguing, and as the night wore on his religious discussions impressed me greatly as be bantered easily with the Sanctified.  He doesn’t seem to worship the Crone herself but embraces mythology, his blood powers, and the tenants of the Acoytles with an easy grace.

One room I walked into their apparently had been a fight.  A terrifyingly brute of a gangrel sat in a chair with an unconscious “breather” on the floor.  He was Maddox, Irish Sheriff of the city and Bishop of the Lance.  He was crass and mean, at first, I was afraid he might attack me, but once we got past the pleasantries he seemed to warm up to me as much as I can imagine was possible for him.  Apparently an unliked Ventrue had possessed this street-retainer and sent him to do something wicked tonight.  Orcus had cut him with his sword on the leg (the sword must have been cloaked) and Maddox had planted his ham-sized fist in the guy’s head knocking him right out.  As things heated up over the course of the evening they tied him up and locked him in a closet.  They wouldn’t give me any more details and I don’t know what became of the guy.  No one trusts me and everyone is so secretive!  I started to resort to my superior Cloak of Night to glean secrets though apparently at Elysium this is very frowned upon, I’ll be careful not to get caught.  There is a great deal of discussions in one room about the breeding of humans and ghoul families, I can barely control my disdain for such slavery.

Later the evening was gripped in chaos.  An Acolyte with cuts all over his face, Mr. Asim covered in slime and refuse, Three very pissed off Nosferatu, one covered in blood… and Maddox almost starts a fight with the Nosferatu Priscus.  I turn invisible and dart into a corner in the face of this madness.  Orcus later tells that is frowned upon at Elysium, but I panicked in my neonate-hood.  The court is canceled! But the Prince tells me that I am allowed to feed at the Rack and his Domain for the time being.  No one would tell me what was going on or what happened, a lot of people go into his office…

I meet Jack Sands, the Harpy.  He wears shades and looks like he’s ready to go for a night on the town.  He’s a typical harpy and is very fun to talk to, when he’s not pissing off the Nosferatu Priscus, with all that’s gone on tonight her patience is growing thin.  He rallies his Sanctified with true leadership; apparently they are involved with the affairs tonight and get their heads in the game as they have a private meeting on a balcony.  

The most significant event of the night was being approached by Reverend Mary Jane.  She’s a short punk rocker with an easy fang smile.  She’s full of energy and wastes no time introducing herself.  Upon hearing about being so new (5 years embraced) and unaligned she takes me under her wing and we have a series of private conversations.  We talk about my past, I think she worked so Majesty on me, and I admit to running away from Cailyph and somehow working against my blood bond to him.  I tell her my worries regarding the life I ran away from and how my Sire might target my family to draw me out.  She tells me to forget about my human life and accept my instincts (as a vampire), I know these are tenants of her faith.  She wanted to show me the ropes and before the next court get me squared away, I give her my email and we make plans to meet and talk more.  The last thing she does is leave me with a notebook of handwritten stick figures… it’s a Testament of Longinus. 

The undead predators disperse for the night and I make my way home invisible and on foot, the free blood they offered staving off the hunger at least for the weekend.  What Covenant should I join?  In the order or the estate, I would be nothing but a peon for decades to come… the Crone has its hierophant and no one else, a faith without faith, but power through blood sorcery.  The active Carthians consist of the Prince and one other not in attendance tonight, how does he hold power?  The Lance is full of energy and life, they burn with faith which is both attractive and repulsive to me.  I don’t believe in anything anymore…

[Chronicles of Darkness] The Shadow Realm: Part IV - Ephemeral Biology

((In Character (IC) Document:

Chronicle: Mage 2: The Dethroned Queen

Venue: Chronicles of Darkness - Mage: The Awakening (Fallen World Chronicle)

Chronicle Storyteller: Jerad Sayler

Cannibalized from multiple sources such as the Werewolf: The Forsaken 2nd Ed and the Chronicles of Darkness Corebook))

THE SHADOW REALM

A Pentacle Academy lecture series by Anton (MD), Dean of The Adamant College.

Part Four: Ephemeral Biology

Within the Hisil, teeming umia of spirits prey on one another, scrambling for the Essence leaking through the Gauntlet, waxing and waning in response to humanity’s blind actions and emotions. In their own world, spirits are dangerous.

When they break the natural order and cross the Gauntlet, they can be deadly. The ephemera forming spirits’ “bodies” is invisible and intangible to those blind to the Shadow, and humanity is not equipped to deal with an enemy it can’t see, hear, or touch — one that’s driven by hunger to rouse Essence, anchor itself, and above all not go back at any cost where survival is fierce.

THE SHADOWED LANDSCAPE

While traversing the Shadow brings its own dangers, from the spirit courts to the uncertainty of distances compared to the physical world, most of the time it follows the same rules as acting in the physical world. Mages can better sense Essence while in the Shadow, revealing spirits that aren’t actively hiding themselves, and the dim light and strange sounds of the Hisil make them rely on their spiritual senses more.

The unusual areas of Hisil geography described in Part II bring their own effects which should also be considered.

SHOALS

Shoals provoke lethargy in travelers, trapping them in the region of emptiness. ((Leaving a shoal requires a successful Resolve + Composure roll, and every failure imposes a –1 penalty on subsequent attempts. Dramatic failure means the character can only be rescued by being physically forced out of the shoal.))  Staying leads to spiritual and physical starvation and eventual lapse into coma and death.

GLADES

Glades are sought-after places of bargaining and peace. ((Fighting in a glade requires a successful Resolve roll, and all violent actions are at a -2 dice penalty.)) Glades can be valuable for special pacts, ceremonies, and spells.  In general, these are the only places in the Shadow where things don’t actively try to eat you…

WOUNDS

Wounds drain life and energy out into the Maeljin’s hidden lairs. ((Within a Wound, Willpower rolls are at a –2 penalty, and all injuries suffered inside are worsened by one point of Health or Corpus.))  These places have horrible Resonance and sympathetic correspondence to the acts that caused them.  They also may contain connections or “gates” to places like Abaddon, the Lower Depths, or even the Abyss.  Keep in mind the Wounds also have the effects of Shoals.

BARRENS

Barrens require great effort to stir up the dregs of Essence left within their borders. ((Spirit magic, rites, Numina, Manifestations, and other powers drawing on the spirit world suffer a –3 penalty within the area of a Barren.))

LOCI

Some material objects, and even people, have such a strong connection to the Shadow that they focus spiritual energies, forming a locus of a particular kind of Essence. Loci are individual objects or creatures; loci affect increasing areas around the focal point in both the material and Shadow worlds as they grow in power.

((The Merit: Locus can be purchased to represent control of one of these items or locations.  It follows similar rules to Hallow or a magic item.

Locus     Rating Zone of Influence (Follows general size rating of Hallows/Safe Places)

•                2 yard radius (One small room)

••         15 yard radius (An apartment with a few rooms)

•••       A floor of a building, a forest clearing (a larger house)

••••    A whole building, a section of forest

••••• A city block, a lake

Loci are prized by Werewolves, mages and spirits as crossing points, vital territory, and oases of Essence.

• The zone of influence of a locus is permanently under the Open Condition linked to its resonance.

• Spirits of matching resonance within the zone of influence heal Corpus at twice the normal rate, and gain +2 dice to attempts to cross the Gauntlet

• No spirits require the Reaching Manifestation effect to use their powers across the Gauntlet in a locus’ zone of influence.

• Spirits of matching resonance may conceal themselves within the zone of influence. A spirit merged into a locus in this way can’t take any actions except reveal itself, but while concealed it is impossible to perceive without supernatural powers that reveal spirits, even to Uratha in the Hisil.

• Werewolves can use a locus to Reach and cross between worlds

• Finally, loci generate three times their level in Essence on the Shadow side per day, which often results in a brood of spirits vying for the chance to feed. The Essence matches the resonance of the locus. Loci arise naturally (if rarely) when large quantities of Essence build up around the focal point without attracting any spirits. Individual ecstasy or private tragedy is more likely to form a locus than a publically-known event. Beings can simulate the necessary conditions by clearing an area of spirits while allowing Essence to gather.

After around 150 points of same-resonance Essence collect for over a week, it settles into an object or person in the vicinity and becomes a one-dot locus. Loci increase in power if they continue to accumulate Essence — 150 points per dot, or 50 days of uninterrupted growth.))

If the focal item is destroyed, the Essence bound up in it is released. Unless the Essence is all removed quickly, the locus will reform into a new item within a few weeks — especially as the area is still Resonant. Mages wanting to be certain they’ve destroyed a locus have to counteract the resonance and remove the Essence, or flood the space with equal quantities of differently resonant Essence.

GATHRA (Spirit Pacts & Payment)

We often have to negotiate with spirits in order to manage their hunting grounds, conducting diplomacy in the First Tongue. Spirits are often willing to deal despite their distrust of the fully-fleshed, but require something in return — a gift the Forsaken call gathra (we know it as Chimage). The more powerful and high-ranking the spirit, and the more it hates the Uratha or mage its dealing with, the greater its price. Some spirits require service, tasks that will either generate sources of Essence or further the spirit’s position in the courts and Choir. Others simply require Essence as a one-off or repeated donation.

((Treat negotiations with a spirit as a Social maneuvering action (see Chronicles of Darkness Social Maneuvering rules). Most spirits have average or hostile first impressions with mages, and require Soft Leverage in the form of gathra to Open Doors. Unlike mortal subjects of Social maneuvering, spirits can’t agree to deals unless they’ve been paid — until then, the Character’s player doesn’t roll to open Doors. Hard Leverage — threats of attack, and other strong-arm tactics — might force a spirit to accept a proposition after a perfunctory gift.))

((The scale of gathra varies, decided by the Storyteller, but in general two points of Essence, removing a Hursih from politics, or a change to the material world that will produce a small amount of Essence are the bare minimum, and would move the first impression of a Hursih. Any lesser offering requires Hard Leverage.))

BROODS

Spirits have Cabals of their own, or something similar to the concept. While all the spirits in a region answering to the local Ensahim or Dihim regardless of umia (Choir) are called a court, they’re more acknowledgments of strength and the ruling spirit’s dominance over the Shadow than organizations. A brood is an association of spirits that have banded together for common purpose — carrion spirits following predatory spirits, for example.

CROSSING OVER

A spirit that is capable of using its powers through the Gauntlet might, as its self-awareness grows with power, decide to create food sources for itself by influencing what sort of spirits and Essence will be created around it. The true culprit behind an unusual pattern of domestic murders, for example, might be a murder spirit using its abilities to heighten arguments to homicide.

Other spirits cross over completely, fleeing predation from others of their kind, attempting to create sources of Essence, or even out of simple curiosity. Once in the physical world, spirits find themselves refugees and escapees. They constantly strive to maintain their Essence, desperate to avoid returning to their own world. Without an easy source of Essence, spirits must anchor themselves by finding objects or people that reflect their nature, and tying their ephemeral bodies to them. The spirit remains intangible — and is often actually “inside” the host — but is safe from starvation as long as the host generates enough Essence to feed it. Many items thought of as having “wills of their own” or as being cursed actually house spirits; and although living victims’ loved ones might notice their unusual behavior, spiritual possession is only understood by a rare few human occultists. By influencing the host, or humans interacting with a material host, to more closely reflect its nature, the spirit gets a ready supply of Essence and may move on to more permanent forms of possession. If allowed to continue unchecked, the process of possession sometimes evolves into twisted half-flesh, half-spirit Claimed.

MANIFESTATION AND POSSESSION

In the Hisil, spirits are as at home as humans are in the physical world. If they cross the Gauntlet, they enter a state of Twilight. Instead of bodies formed of flesh and bone, spirits are made up of spiritual matter called ephemera. This substance is invisible to most beings and intangible to anything not comprised of the same sort of ephemera — spirits can see and touch one another, but are invisible to most living people and pass through solid objects. They happily float through walls and ignore mundane dangers, but are incapable of interacting with people without help.

Almost every spirit powerful enough to Reach also has the ability to Manifest — to make its presence known and to affect the physical world. Manifestations range from remaining invisible but using powers, appearing as insubstantial but visible images, or even possessing a victim, sending his soul into hibernation and warping the commandeered body to suit the spirit’s own uses. Some are more skilled at it than others — those so weak they can’t Manifest at all are essentially impotent in the physical world and can’t interact with humans — but all require certain appropriate conditions before they can use these powers.

A spirit that wants to shift into physical form or to inhabit an object, animal, or person requires the emotional resonance of the area or victim-host to match its own, represented as an increasingly potent set of Conditions.

The more powerful Manifestations require stronger Conditions.

The most powerful physical forms and tightly-held victims are the result of careful husbandry by the Manifesting spirit, slowly building up the necessary Condition by leveraging whatever Manifestation it can produce at first. Unless

Conditions are very strong or the possessing spirit extremely powerful, a human being falling victim to a possession is first Urged to follow the spirit’s wishes instead of his own, then later forced to do its bidding, and only then physically mutated into a bizarre amalgamation of nature and supernatural power.

Rites to summon or exorcise spirits from the physical world are a matter of creating or destroying the appropriate resonance for the creature, preferably near to a place it can Reach across the Gauntlet. Most spirits waste away as though starving outside of the needed Conditions, so breaking those Conditions is a sure-fire way of forcing the being to abandon its attempt at Manifestation and sending it fleeing toward either a way “home” or another appropriate vessel.

OTHER ENTITIES

((The various World of Darkness games have used the spirit rules to represent many different beings, from ghosts, to demonic owls made of smoke with a strange connection to vampires, to the inhabitants of an astral world visited by mages. Although some beings have rare powers that affect other “ephemeral entities,” for the most part the different types of ephemera are mutually exclusive — spirits and ghosts are both made of ephemera, and both exist in a state of Twilight when in the physical world, but they remain “out of phase” and can’t see or interact with one another without a Numen to allow it.))

DORMANCY AND AWAKENING

Only conceptual spirits and nature spirits of most animals, fish, and birds begin existence as mobile and active muthra or Hursihim. Most spirits are born from the Essence of objects, plants, and natural features, and begin existence sleeping. They exist in the Hisil as faint outlines of the earthly phenomena they draw Essence from, but if they aren’t consumed by other spirits, they eventually develop into dormant Hursihim with the capacity to awaken.

Dormant spirits sometimes awaken when an object they’re tied to is destroyed, instinctively rousing to

seek new Essence rather than starve. Major upheavals in the Shadow such as the presence of an avatar of one of the Ilusahim, a battle between the spirit courts, or the death of an Dihir can awaken all the sleeping spirits in the vicinity. Other spirits of the same umia can deliberately rouse dormant spirits. ((In all cases, the act of waking up from dormancy consumes

one point of Essence.))