RPGnet - User contributions [en]

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T17:27:46Z

Archon Basileus:

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T17:25:36Z

Archon Basileus:

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T17:25:01Z

Archon Basileus:

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T17:21:11Z

Archon Basileus:

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T17:17:50Z

Archon Basileus:

STATS AND NUMBERS

2016-08-26T17:13:19Z

Archon Basileus: Created page with "'''AGE BONUS:''' 0-50 yrs old 45 51-100 yrs old 130 101-200 yrs old 240 201-350 yrs old 370 351-550 yrs old 520 551-800 yrs old 690 801-1,100 yrs old 885 1,101-1,450 y..."

'''AGE BONUS:'''

0-50 yrs old 45

51-100 yrs old 130

101-200 yrs old 240

201-350 yrs old 370

351-550 yrs old 520

551-800 yrs old 690

801-1,100 yrs old 885

1,101-1,450 yrs old 1105

1,451-1,850 yrs old 1350

1,851-2,300 yrs old 1575

2,301-2,800 yrs old 1775

2,801-3,350 yrs old 1950

3,351-3,950 yrs old 2100

3,951-5,600 yrs old 2230

'''COSTS:'''

''Attributes''

Primary 7(10)
Secondary 5(8)
Tertiary 3(6)

(5 FrPt per dot)

''Abilities''

Primary 13
Secondary 9
Tertiary 5

(2 FrPt per dot)

''Advantages''

Disciplines 3 (7 FrPt per dot)
Backgrounds 5 (1 FrPt per dot)

''Virtues'' 7(10) (2 FrPt per dot)

''Humanity''

Conscience + Self Control
(1 FrPt per dot)

''Willpower''

Equals Courage
(1 FrPt per dot)

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T17:13:09Z

Archon Basileus:

Agamemnon

2016-08-26T17:11:34Z

Archon Basileus:

Birth Name: Agamemnon

Nickname: --

Clan: Lasombra

Age: ~ 3000 (uncertain)

Gender: Male

Hair: Long, curled

Eyes: Dark

Skin: pale

Height: close to 6 feet

Once the commander of the greek fleet in the mother of all wars, Agamemnon found the end for his mortal days as his wife, Clytemnestra, stabbed him to death upon his return to Argos. Such was the tale told to his subjects, made notorious by several tragedies from later days as the narrative sunk into a surreal, mythical background.

In fact, though, the king of Argos returned from the war a changed man. Years of conflict took their toll on him, some would say, as he became increasingly mad. Right after the attack on Apollo’s temple and the argument with Achilles, the king was visited in dreams by Morpheus, the black messenger of the gods. Word is that his bloodlust was unmatchable after that solemn visit. The kings’ days would be spent in the battlefield, clad in armor, a cruel and unrecognizable visage carved behind the crevices of his helm. In times of rest, he’d only leave his tent at night, always closely followed by Briseis, the lover that would keep the king from his duties as the sun crossed the skies.

Years passed as war raged all around, the transformation undergone by Agamemnon becoming more and more pronounced. Ulysses was the first to notice, and also the first to uncover the truth behind the kings’ strange metamorphosis. It was under his counsel that Agamemnon found ways to dismiss his men’s suspicions by impregnating Briseis with Aleso. The child was fabled to survive Clytemnestra’s betrayal of Agamemnon, living an honored life and dying to protect an ally from a mortal wound. His existence is chronicled amongst the undead as the potential testimony of the presence of half-vampires among men, even though nothing confirms this theory. This story is commonly associated with the Tragedy of the Lovers, readily placed as the middle segment of the mythologeme of undead offspring (the last part being the fabled birth of the thin blood’s child, one of the signs of Gehenna).

As the story goes, Agamemnon would have risen prayers to the gods, searching for an answer. Supposedly, an ancestor god granted him, through the hands of a familial priestess, the means to impregnate Briseis, thus conceiving the boy. The most faithful consider that the priestess employed potent rituals to make him fertile, while others suggest that a slave was used to deliver the seed in place of the king.

Even though tradition states that Agamemnon was transfixed by a sword, truth is that Clytemnestra recognized the curse bestowed upon her husband. Diviners from Argos had warned her about the twisted existence the king had been leading. After that, the queen sought the means to destroy her husband by offering a reward to anyone that could fashion a weapon strong enough to subdue him. The answer came from an ionic artificer. Commissioned by the queen, the mysterious man built a blade of bones and treated wood, sure to resist the passage of time and to reach the kings’ heart, as advised by her counselors. Upon his return, as night descended upon the city and the king crossed the streets in apotheosis towards the palace, the queen prepared the fatal blow. Not even the terrified warnings of his lover could stop what was set in motion by the betraying queen and the cursed Aegisthus, her newfound accomplice and lover. As the king arrived, his clothes were taken by the servants and he entered his bath, prepared to purify himself to the festivities that were to follow. Alas, as his senses rested and his body finally surrendered to the comforts of home, his queen joined him, only to lodge the blade into his back, until it reached his heart.

The weapon’s peculiar nature is still a point of debate among vampire scholars. The Milanese school (founded by a peculiar group of Giovani sages) tends to consider the weapon a metaphoric representation for the phallic function, since it was the queen to perpetrate the act as Aegisthus observed from the shadows. They also consider the remnant of the narrative to lead towards this very moment, only to imply that there was an inversion of roles and that such an inversion determined the repetition of the myth of Lilith, only this time employing mythical elements known in the Mediterranean (instead of the Sumerian-Hebraic version). Others, such as the Warlocks of Istambul, tend to consider the veracity of the myth, imagining that such a weapon was actually conceived to detain the king. It’s peculiar nature seems to be evocative of material transmutations, as well as some degrees of blood magic (the bones might have been used to intensify the strength of it’s user, much like certain thaumaturgy rituals that are better left unmentioned). They go as far as to try and determine the identity of the artificer, supposedly an undead sorcerer that employed Egyptian techniques to transform matter and build devices of controversial use. This theory also states that the sorcerer reappears in another myth, pertaining the true nature of Circe and her influence upon Odysseus.

After the deed, Clytemnestra ordered the imprisonment of the lifeless body of Agamemnon. He was to be taken to a stone tomb hidden deep underneath the hills around the city. There he would wait until a torpid sleep took over him. The traditional version of the story dictates that the king spent the following years in a deep slumber, until Iphigenia’s shadow visited him in his dreams. An odd episode, whispered among Milanese chroniclers, speaks of a secular trip through the Shadownlands, in which the king was guided by his dead daughter though many realms and, ultimately, towards the lords of the Underworld, where he met Charon himself. The nature of the conversation between the two of them remains a mystery even to the wraiths, so terrible it was in nature. After the meeting, the king was taken once more to his prison, where he laid in disquieting dreams.

Eventually, the king would be released. His saviors, fully aware of his past, his sins and his hubris, opened way to his bed of rocks and took the blade from his chest, fed him and dressed him. After he reacquainted himself with the night skies and the cold breeze that came from the north, he was taken to the leader of that expedition. Barely recognizable, the man that stood before him seemed to hold a place of honor in the kings fractured memories. It was only after he heard the man’s voice that he realized he stood before Odysseus of Ithaca. He seemed older, his body covered in countless scars, his visage so distant from the regal image that once prowled the Trojan fields. Odysseus saluted the old ally, informing him about the fate of his lineage and the passage of time. It more than a thousand years had passed, and Greece had become the province of a once great empire, now doomed to fall.

Still, all that did not matter. The main reason of his release was far more personal. Odysseus informed him about the persistent ways of his creator, an ancient vampire once imprisoned underneath the temple of Apollo. His release hung upon the princes of Greece as the most sacrilegious of transgressions. One my one, they had been contacted by a group of watchers, dedicated to cut short the ancient’s influence upon the Mediterranean. Those who agreed to cooperate would join the watcher’s efforts in some way. Those who didn’t, well…. Fate would do quick judgement of them.

The king felt guilty for his former transgressions. They hung heavily upon his head, notably the treacherous sacrifice of his daughter to Poseidon. The centuries he spent in the Shadowlands – Were they dreams fueled by guilt? – inclined his heart towards redemption. He accepted the tutelage of Odysseus and his companions, and in exchange he landed his services and attempted to find his former sire.
The next decades were spent in this search. Eventually Agamemnon found his way to the conclave that housed other vampires of his blood. There, in a fortress built in the west, he discovered the extension of the evils that lurked in darkness. An entire family of undead creatures capable of visiting the darkest places of the Abyss had spawned, and he bore their blood. His heart doubted. Perhaps the dreams he had so long ago were to be true. Perhaps there would be a way to bring his daughter back and redeem himself for her virginal tears and her own lost offspring, never to be.

Scholars diverge once more on the circumstances of Agamemnon’s story, from then on. If he existed, it is certain he did not persist in using the same name. Some say this would have happened because of Baali influences upon his habits, a topic to be discussed elsewhere. This makes particularly difficult tracing his activities and whereabouts through the subsequent eras of his un-life.
Either way, most vampire scholars agree that, whatever his dispositions, they most likely ended being fulfilled during the Lasombra revolt. Either he profited from the opportunity to lend the fatal blow against his sire, or he used the occasion to vanish and pursue other interests – most likely the rescue of his daughter. At this point, the narrative is quite inconclusive. Nevertheless, undead trying to find a way to bring dead souls back are not as rare a sight as one would consider. Who is to tell if Agamemnon doesn’t have his identity hidden among such men, still searching for a way to quench Iphigenia’s rage by bringing her back…

Agamemnon

2016-08-26T17:08:37Z

Archon Basileus: Created page with "Once the commander of the greek fleet in the mother of all wars, Agamemnon found the end for his mortal days as his wife, Clytemnestra, stabbed him to death upon his return to..."

Once the commander of the greek fleet in the mother of all wars, Agamemnon found the end for his mortal days as his wife, Clytemnestra, stabbed him to death upon his return to Argos. Such was the tale told to his subjects, made notorious by several tragedies from later days as the narrative sunk into a surreal, mythical background.

In fact, though, the king of Argos returned from the war a changed man. Years of conflict took their toll on him, some would say, as he became increasingly mad. Right after the attack on Apollo’s temple and the argument with Achilles, the king was visited in dreams by Morpheus, the black messenger of the gods. Word is that his bloodlust was unmatchable after that solemn visit. The kings’ days would be spent in the battlefield, clad in armor, a cruel and unrecognizable visage carved behind the crevices of his helm. In times of rest, he’d only leave his tent at night, always closely followed by Briseis, the lover that would keep the king from his duties as the sun crossed the skies.

Years passed as war raged all around, the transformation undergone by Agamemnon becoming more and more pronounced. Ulysses was the first to notice, and also the first to uncover the truth behind the kings’ strange metamorphosis. It was under his counsel that Agamemnon found ways to dismiss his men’s suspicions by impregnating Briseis with Aleso. The child was fabled to survive Clytemnestra’s betrayal of Agamemnon, living an honored life and dying to protect an ally from a mortal wound. His existence is chronicled amongst the undead as the potential testimony of the presence of half-vampires among men, even though nothing confirms this theory. This story is commonly associated with the Tragedy of the Lovers, readily placed as the middle segment of the mythologeme of undead offspring (the last part being the fabled birth of the thin blood’s child, one of the signs of Gehenna).

As the story goes, Agamemnon would have risen prayers to the gods, searching for an answer. Supposedly, an ancestor god granted him, through the hands of a familial priestess, the means to impregnate Briseis, thus conceiving the boy. The most faithful consider that the priestess employed potent rituals to make him fertile, while others suggest that a slave was used to deliver the seed in place of the king.

Even though tradition states that Agamemnon was transfixed by a sword, truth is that Clytemnestra recognized the curse bestowed upon her husband. Diviners from Argos had warned her about the twisted existence the king had been leading. After that, the queen sought the means to destroy her husband by offering a reward to anyone that could fashion a weapon strong enough to subdue him. The answer came from an ionic artificer. Commissioned by the queen, the mysterious man built a blade of bones and treated wood, sure to resist the passage of time and to reach the kings’ heart, as advised by her counselors. Upon his return, as night descended upon the city and the king crossed the streets in apotheosis towards the palace, the queen prepared the fatal blow. Not even the terrified warnings of his lover could stop what was set in motion by the betraying queen and the cursed Aegisthus, her newfound accomplice and lover. As the king arrived, his clothes were taken by the servants and he entered his bath, prepared to purify himself to the festivities that were to follow. Alas, as his senses rested and his body finally surrendered to the comforts of home, his queen joined him, only to lodge the blade into his back, until it reached his heart.

The weapon’s peculiar nature is still a point of debate among vampire scholars. The Milanese school (founded by a peculiar group of Giovani sages) tends to consider the weapon a metaphoric representation for the phallic function, since it was the queen to perpetrate the act as Aegisthus observed from the shadows. They also consider the remnant of the narrative to lead towards this very moment, only to imply that there was an inversion of roles and that such an inversion determined the repetition of the myth of Lilith, only this time employing mythical elements known in the Mediterranean (instead of the Sumerian-Hebraic version). Others, such as the Warlocks of Istambul, tend to consider the veracity of the myth, imagining that such a weapon was actually conceived to detain the king. It’s peculiar nature seems to be evocative of material transmutations, as well as some degrees of blood magic (the bones might have been used to intensify the strength of it’s user, much like certain thaumaturgy rituals that are better left unmentioned). They go as far as to try and determine the identity of the artificer, supposedly an undead sorcerer that employed Egyptian techniques to transform matter and build devices of controversial use. This theory also states that the sorcerer reappears in another myth, pertaining the true nature of Circe and her influence upon Odysseus.

After the deed, Clytemnestra ordered the imprisonment of the lifeless body of Agamemnon. He was to be taken to a stone tomb hidden deep underneath the hills around the city. There he would wait until a torpid sleep took over him. The traditional version of the story dictates that the king spent the following years in a deep slumber, until Iphigenia’s shadow visited him in his dreams. An odd episode, whispered among Milanese chroniclers, speaks of a secular trip through the Shadownlands, in which the king was guided by his dead daughter though many realms and, ultimately, towards the lords of the Underworld, where he met Charon himself. The nature of the conversation between the two of them remains a mystery even to the wraiths, so terrible it was in nature. After the meeting, the king was taken once more to his prison, where he laid in disquieting dreams.

Eventually, the king would be released. His saviors, fully aware of his past, his sins and his hubris, opened way to his bed of rocks and took the blade from his chest, fed him and dressed him. After he reacquainted himself with the night skies and the cold breeze that came from the north, he was taken to the leader of that expedition. Barely recognizable, the man that stood before him seemed to hold a place of honor in the kings fractured memories. It was only after he heard the man’s voice that he realized he stood before Odysseus of Ithaca. He seemed older, his body covered in countless scars, his visage so distant from the regal image that once prowled the Trojan fields. Odysseus saluted the old ally, informing him about the fate of his lineage and the passage of time. It more than a thousand years had passed, and Greece had become the province of a once great empire, now doomed to fall.

Still, all that did not matter. The main reason of his release was far more personal. Odysseus informed him about the persistent ways of his creator, an ancient vampire once imprisoned underneath the temple of Apollo. His release hung upon the princes of Greece as the most sacrilegious of transgressions. One my one, they had been contacted by a group of watchers, dedicated to cut short the ancient’s influence upon the Mediterranean. Those who agreed to cooperate would join the watcher’s efforts in some way. Those who didn’t, well…. Fate would do quick judgement of them.

The king felt guilty for his former transgressions. They hung heavily upon his head, notably the treacherous sacrifice of his daughter to Poseidon. The centuries he spent in the Shadowlands – Were they dreams fueled by guilt? – inclined his heart towards redemption. He accepted the tutelage of Odysseus and his companions, and in exchange he landed his services and attempted to find his former sire.
The next decades were spent in this search. Eventually Agamemnon found his way to the conclave that housed other vampires of his blood. There, in a fortress built in the west, he discovered the extension of the evils that lurked in darkness. An entire family of undead creatures capable of visiting the darkest places of the Abyss had spawned, and he bore their blood. His heart doubted. Perhaps the dreams he had so long ago were to be true. Perhaps there would be a way to bring his daughter back and redeem himself for her virginal tears and her own lost offspring, never to be.

Scholars diverge once more on the circumstances of Agamemnon’s story, from then on. If he existed, it is certain he did not persist in using the same name. Some say this would have happened because of Baali influences upon his habits, a topic to be discussed elsewhere. This makes particularly difficult tracing his activities and whereabouts through the subsequent eras of his un-life.
Either way, most vampire scholars agree that, whatever his dispositions, they most likely ended being fulfilled during the Lasombra revolt. Either he profited from the opportunity to lend the fatal blow against his sire, or he used the occasion to vanish and pursue other interests – most likely the rescue of his daughter. At this point, the narrative is quite inconclusive. Nevertheless, undead trying to find a way to bring dead souls back are not as rare a sight as one would consider. Who is to tell if Agamemnon doesn’t have his identity hidden among such men, still searching for a way to quench Iphigenia’s rage by bringing her back…

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T17:07:31Z

Archon Basileus:

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T17:06:41Z

Archon Basileus:

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T17:04:49Z

Archon Basileus:

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T16:59:33Z

Archon Basileus:

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T16:56:00Z

Archon Basileus:

B) A THOUSAND NIGHTS

2016-08-26T15:20:19Z

Archon Basileus:

Night, high moon. The penthouse studio saw the silver light filling every inch of it’s manor-like interior, bathed in gradual pale touches as the steel blinds opened with a hum.

“You overslept, love….” – she said, as he pressed on the controls.

“I’ve earned it, dear Dejah.” – the blonde, pale man contemplated the white towers of this new-century Dubai, raging lights against a clear nocturnal sky.

“Do you remember the days of youth, lost so long ago, love?” – Dejah embraced the other one from behind, watching stars as they vanished behind the skyscrapers. A smile crossed the other one’s face.

“Yes, I do, geliebte. How we wandered, how we came to know intimately the myriads of light that measured our steps!”
“Do you miss it, love?”

He turned towards her, contemplative and soft in his manners. He was in love once more, as he had been a thousand nights before, for a thousand years.

“You know me very well…. I do. You know I do.”

Silence fell upon the couple.

“The Sheik enjoyed your observations. Jon is downstairs…. Feeding.” – another moment of silence.

“We should leave, Markus. Leave this place behind…. There is nothing for us here. Nothing. The sheik…”

“The sheik can’t protect us forever, I know. Nevertheless, he has something we still need.”

“There are other blood diviners around the world, Markus…”

“But only one to be called prince of Dubai, geliebte! I promise you, in due time…”

A shadow of resentment fell upon her face.

“In due time… What happened to the bold knight that defeated his assassin so many years ago?”

“He fell in love for his assassin… And he wishes for her to come to no harm…”

As he approached her, Dejah held a heavy disposition. Still accepting his caresses, her thoughts returned to the last contract she ever took under the banners of her bloodline, as well as her failure... Slowly, her body tensed, thinking about the future and what it had in store for them.

“What is it, Dejah?” – she could not escape his gaze. They never escaped each other.

For seconds, she hesitated, as if trying to find a way out of that conversation. They were tied together, he embraced her. By now, he could feel her subtle, distant trembling and apprehension. They never escaped each other… She rose her eyes towards him and saw only anticipation. He knew it already. No words were needed.

He smiled slowly, relief and satisfaction resting upon his visage.

“I knew it. Solomon’s treasures would buy Sheik Vathek’s cooperation! Now, where is it, my darling?”

“Somewhere in Vienna, my dear…” – her voice was heavy. Markus’ smile vanished slowly, but resolve did not leave him, she could see it.

“Vienna, of all places… I could not bring myself to call it home, but the harsh memories it holds make it appropriate… Soon, my love, soon...”

“We don’t have to do this….”

“The Champion of Blood guarantees your survival, my dear…. None of your fellow clansmen will dare approach you with ill intent once you hold it in your hands. We’ll be free, geliebte! We’ll roam the world once more, side by side… As you wished for so many years!”
“Only if you….. we…. Survive.”

His eyes shone moonlight as he rested them upon her visage. They were so impassionate about each other, a love beyond explanation or measure! A thousand nights, in a thousand years, and never an ounce of doubt!

“No peril is too great… As long as it gives you eternity.”

Ah, Fortune... Such misery as love can only be true as it unfolds its own tragedy…

B) A THOUSAND NIGHTS

2016-08-26T15:19:28Z

Archon Basileus: Created page with "Night, high moon. The penthouse studio saw the silver light filling every inch of it’s manor-like interior, bathed in gradual pale touches as the steel blinds opened with a..."

Night, high moon. The penthouse studio saw the silver light filling every inch of it’s manor-like interior, bathed in gradual pale touches as the steel blinds opened with a hum.
“You overslept, love….” – she said, as he pressed on the controls.
“I’ve earned it, dear Dejah.” – the blonde, pale man contemplated the white towers of this new-century Dubai, raging lights against a clear nocturnal sky.
“Do you remember the days of youth, lost so long ago, love?” – Dejah embraced the other one from behind, watching stars as they vanished behind the skyscrapers. A smile crossed the other one’s face.
“Yes, I do, geliebte. How we wandered, how we came to know intimately the myriads of light that measured our steps!”
“Do you miss it, love?”
He turned towards her, contemplative and soft in his manners. He was in love once more, as he had been a thousand nights before, for a thousand years.
“You know me very well…. I do. You know I do.”
Silence fell upon the couple.
“The Sheik enjoyed your observations. Jon is downstairs…. Feeding.” – another moment of silence.
“We should leave, Markus. Leave this place behind…. There is nothing for us here. Nothing. The sheik…”
“The sheik can’t protect us forever, I know. Nevertheless, he has something we still need.”
“There are other blood diviners around the world, Markus…”
“But only one to be called prince of Dubai, geliebte! I promise you, in due time…”
A shadow of resentment fell upon her face.
“In due time… What happened to the bold knight that defeated his assassin so many years ago?”
“He fell in love for his assassin… And he wishes for her to come to no harm…”
As he approached her, Dejah held a heavy disposition. Still accepting his caresses, her thoughts returned to the last contract she ever took under the banners of her bloodline, as well as her failure... Slowly, her body tensed, thinking about the future and what it had in store for them.
“What is it, Dejah?” – she could not escape his gaze. They never escaped each other.
For seconds, she hesitated, as if trying to find a way out of that conversation. They were tied together, he embraced her. By now, he could feel her subtle, distant trembling and apprehension. They never escaped each other… She rose her eyes towards him and saw only anticipation. He knew it already. No words were needed.
He smiled slowly, relief and satisfaction resting upon his visage.
“I knew it. Solomon’s treasures would buy Sheik Vathek’s cooperation! Now, where is it, my darling?”
“Somewhere in Vienna, my dear…” – her voice was heavy. Markus’ smile vanished slowly, but resolve did not leave him, she could see it.
“Vienna, of all places… I could not bring myself to call it home, but the harsh memories it holds make it appropriate… Soon, my love, soon...”
“We don’t have to do this….”
“The Champion of Blood guarantees your survival, my dear…. None of your fellow clansmen will dare approach you with ill intent once you hold it in your hands. We’ll be free, geliebte! We’ll roam the world once more, side by side… As you wished for so many years!”
“Only if you….. we…. Survive.”
His eyes shone moonlight as he rested them upon her visage. They were so impassionate about each other, a love beyond explanation or measure! A thousand nights, in a thousand years, and never an ounce of doubt!
“No peril is too great… As long as it gives you eternity.”
Ah, Fortune... Such misery as love can only be true as it unfolds its own tragedy…

A) TIMEWEAVERS

2016-08-26T15:16:28Z

Archon Basileus: Created page with "Cephalos entered the yard in silence. At least a decade had passed since last he stepped onto it to perform his rituals, a habit he kept, if only to remember how far he had go..."

Cephalos entered the yard in silence. At least a decade had passed since last he stepped onto it to perform his rituals, a habit he kept, if only to remember how far he had gone since his embrace, ages before. Overtaken by tall grass and silence, it was in ruins. Once, long ago, this had been the place of his ancestors and his sons. Time would take everything from him, though, the price of blood paid in full. Cephalos reached for the almost unseen altar in the center, the pyre unlit and the stone unclean. He was to begin his prayer when he saw the tall figure coming from the shadows.

“Cato” – the old corpse said to the other. “Finished arguing with your son-in-law, I presume?”

The other one, stiff severe face of a roman, bowed his head as to recognize the jest.

No smile came out of him, though.

“Here we are, old friend.”

“Here we are.”

“Would you allow me to help? We share the same blood, after all.”

“Indeed. Brother and offspring, you are, good Cato.” – between the two of them, no sentiment rose. Only a subtle form of trust enticed the elders as they silently rose prayers at the ruined altar.”

After moments of silence, they gazed each other.

“How deed it strike you, Cephalos? Knowing for the first time you had the power to twist your fate…. Knowing you would be forever fated to contemplate their inevitable ends while you yourself struggled against our own determinist reality?”

“I believe it was the very last moment of my life that allowed me an overwhelming sense of fear… As if engulfed by fire, I rested my expectations entirely in the possibility of unveiling time itself, as the Fates would have, I’m sure, even before the oldest of gods. Nonetheless….”

“Nonetheless it is still uncertain, your fatal resolution, is it not, old friend?”

“In a way, yes. You do know what they say about our gift, do you not, Cato?”

“They say many things, Cephalos.”

“Many, for sure. One calls my attention, though. Perhaps the closest one to our experiences. Suppose we had the chance to muster all the strength of the blood in one epiphany, a single moment of universal realization, to bring all other moments to their ruinous truths. Suppose that…”

“That someone could contemplate the end of all things…”

“The end of all things…”

“Therefore, your absence, your silence, for all these years.”

“Precisely.”

“In other words, you do believe there was a first one to fight against fate itself, attempting to control all circumstances throughout our history. Nevertheless, what good would come of it, should it’s reasons be solely it’s own?”

“He who faces fate and rescinds to the heart of his own secrets might as well become fate. Foreseeing everything by his own power, free at last to live forever, to remain as others fall.”

“Or enslaved by his own sense of responsibility, doomed to try and trick Fortune in order to leave his legacy.”

“Yes….”

Surprise took Cato, suddenly. Not a common vista.

“You….”

“A glimpse, my friend. Of another, worry not. And the resolution…. How painful.”

“Are you to sacrifice yourself, then?”

“No. I adopted a riskier, yet more pragmatic, way out of my predicament.”

“Which is…?”

“Bringing fate itself into tomes of knowledge for the victim to find. In a very straightforward manner. No mysteries. Until the day we meet. Until the day it is safe to meet.”

“Is he one of us?”

“Yes. And of old blood, as well.”

“Why is he so relevant?”

“He might be a means to an end. Maybe more. As far as my sight leads me… He might well be the resolution for our deepest fears and doubts.”

“To uncover the end?”

“To uncover the end. The end of all things.”

MACABRIA

2016-08-26T15:13:24Z

Archon Basileus: Created page with "Known in myth and pop culture, Macabria received its’ place in mankind’s imagination on account of an old goth song signed by a famous 80’s rock band. The legend that sp..."

Known in myth and pop culture, Macabria received its’ place in mankind’s imagination on account of an old goth song signed by a famous 80’s rock band. The legend that spawned the ballad was far older, though, being mentioned in vampire lore and tomes for centuries, if not millennia.

Macabria is the Paradise Archetype for all vampires. It has received a visible presence among umbral realms at some point in history (no one knows exactly when), representing “the land of overflowing blood”, where “the red moon never fades, despite its’ phases” and “the Beast sides with intellect”. This dream of hunters has been described in many ways and given many identities. Some ascetic vampires, mostly spiritual thaumaturgy practitioners, say that they have achieved this plane of existence. Some describe it as a state of being (maybe under the influence of the concept of Golconda), while others consider it an entire separate world. Matching portraits present “rivers of flowing, warm blood”, “red flowers that sprout pleasure”, “temples where men, beasts and strangest creatures are available to satisfy every vampiric pleasure”. The details vary with the philosophical conceptions of each individual.
It is said that the so called Temple of Love, built within the Necropolis, was conceived from dreams that the architect dreamt within Macabria. Several other aspects of necropolitan architecture revisit the myth.

THE NECROPOLIS

2016-08-26T15:13:04Z

Archon Basileus: Created page with "Long ago, a conclave within a conclave of vampires decided to build a haven of cyclopean proportions somewhere in the Ural. Inspired by the power that ancient princes exerted..."

Long ago, a conclave within a conclave of vampires decided to build a haven of cyclopean proportions somewhere in the Ural. Inspired by the power that ancient princes exerted upon mankind, these undead waged war against many nations, enslaving it’s citizens and taking them back.

Feeding them their own blood, the vampiric lords of the mountains ordered massive excavations and designed impossible feats of engineering and architecture. After two centuries of blood, violence and sacrifice, the Necropolis was erected, a testament to the old vampire cities of times past.

The Necropolis was kept secret throughout millennia by a system of political control and arcane rituals, much like those once met at Hunedoara Castle (It is believed that the spells employed in the Lair were semblances of more potent wards that protected the Necropolis). It is said that blood never went scarce within its’ halls and sun never shone within. Incantations guaranteed that only those blessed with vitae could see the seven gates (in mockery of sacred Thebes) that led to the city. Across the streets and galleries of the Undead City, immortals led courtesan lives and indulged in dark passions, plotting against each other and planning the fate of the world. Secessions happened as ages went by, to the point that many undead left the city, defeated, only to build newer versions of the legendary Undead City.
Nowadays, all factions claim presence and power within Necropolis’ courts. Originally it was ruled by an independent Consortium of undead merchants and schemers. As time passed, they became powerful enough to be considered an autonomous faction in and off themselves. Nevertheless, alliances were made and in the end factions placed permanent representatives within the Necropolis. When the Sabbat rose to power, it was received within the halls of the Undead City, side by side with the Camarilla. Nowadays, the factions share the same space under the rules of the Consortium. They are not allowed to attack each other. Still, the political strife between the two enemies continues to this day. Tal’Mahe’Ra representatives, as well as Inconnu and Cathayans, have been known to participate in necropolitan politics, amassing great numbers within its’ walls.

RUINS OF THE SECOND CITY

2016-08-26T15:12:38Z

Archon Basileus: Created page with "The second city, long gone to the other side of the Shroud, still sits on an island, guarded by enslaved souls and visited in nightmares by ancient vampires obsessed with the..."

The second city, long gone to the other side of the Shroud, still sits on an island, guarded by enslaved souls and visited in nightmares by ancient vampires obsessed with the race’s origins. Even though the access has become more difficult since the gates of the Abyss have been broken, the city resists and the Tal’Mahe’Ra still thrives among the silent halls once inhabited by the so-called Third Generation.

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T15:12:29Z

Archon Basileus:

A) RUINS OF THE SECOND CITY

2016-08-26T15:11:55Z

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T15:09:28Z

Archon Basileus:

A THOUSAND NIGHTS

2016-08-26T15:06:06Z

Archon Basileus: Created page with " Night, high moon. The penthouse studio saw the silver light filling every inch of it’s manor-like interior, bathed in gradual pale touches as the steel blinds opened with a..."

Night, high moon. The penthouse studio saw the silver light filling every inch of it’s manor-like interior, bathed in gradual pale touches as the steel blinds opened with a hum.

“You overslept, love….” – she said, as he pressed on the controls.

“I’ve earned it, dear Dejah.” – the blonde, pale man contemplated the white towers of this new-century Dubai, raging lights against a clear nocturnal sky.

“Do you remember the days of youth, lost so long ago, love?” – Dejah embraced the other one from behind, watching stars as they vanished behind the skyscrapers. A smile crossed the other one’s face.

“Yes, I do, geliebte. How we wandered, how we came to know intimately the myriads of light that measured our steps!”

“Do you miss it, love?”

He turned towards her, contemplative and soft in his manners. He was in love once more, as he had been a thousand nights before, for a thousand years.

“You know me very well…. I do. You know I do.”

Silence fell upon the couple.

“The Sheik enjoyed your observations. Jon is downstairs…. Feeding.” – another moment of silence.

“We should leave, Markus. Leave this place behind…. There is nothing for us here. Nothing. The sheik…”

“The sheik can’t protect us forever, I know. Nevertheless, he has something we still need.”

“There are other blood diviners around the world, Markus…”

“But only one to be called prince of Dubai, geliebte! I promise you, in due time…”

A shadow of resentment fell upon her face.

“In due time… What happened to the bold knight that defeated his assassin so many years ago?”

“He fell in love for his assassin… And he wishes for her to come to no harm…”

As he approached her, Dejah held a heavy disposition. Still accepting his caresses, her thoughts returned to the last contract she ever took under the banners of her bloodline, as well as her failure... Slowly, her body tensed, thinking about the future and what it had in store for them.

“What is it, Dejah?” – she could not escape his gaze. They never escaped each other.

For seconds, she hesitated, as if trying to find a way out of that conversation. They were tied together, he embraced her. By now, he could feel her subtle, distant trembling and apprehension. They never escaped each other… She rose her eyes towards him and saw only anticipation. He knew it already. No words were needed.

He smiled slowly, relief and satisfaction resting upon his visage.

“I knew it. Solomon’s treasures would buy Sheik Vathek’s cooperation! Now, where is it, my darling?”

“Somewhere in Vienna, my dear…” – her voice was heavy. Markus’ smile vanished slowly, but resolve did not leave him, she could see it.

“Vienna, of all places… I could not bring myself to call it home, but the harsh memories it holds make it appropriate… Soon, my love, soon...”

“We don’t have to do this….”

“The Champion of Blood guarantees your survival, my dear…. None of your fellow clansmen will dare approach you with ill intent once you hold it in your hands. We’ll be free, geliebte! We’ll roam the world once more, side by side… As you wished for so many years!”

“Only if you….. we…. Survive.”

His eyes shone moonlight as he rested them upon her visage. They were so impassionate about each other, a love beyond explanation or measure! A thousand nights, in a thousand years, and never an ounce of doubt!

“No peril is too great… As long as it gives you eternity.”

Ah, Fortune... Such misery as love can only be true as it unfolds its own tragedy…

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T15:05:59Z

Archon Basileus:

TIMEWEAVERS

2016-08-26T15:05:25Z

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T15:05:15Z

Archon Basileus:

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T15:03:04Z

Archon Basileus:

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T14:58:44Z

Archon Basileus:

THE SOLACE OF REASON

2016-08-26T14:57:52Z

Archon Basileus: Created page with "The Solace of Reason is an ancient monastery, dating back to the days of the first meditative hermits of Egypt. When the apprentices of Mark Apostle decided to take to the des..."

The Solace of Reason is an ancient monastery, dating back to the days of the first meditative hermits of Egypt. When the apprentices of Mark Apostle decided to take to the desert and reach illumination by contemplative exile, they were followed by a group of Capadocian ascetics with similar intent. These undead searched the dry vastness for years before settling down in a secluded chasm, under the deep shadows of ominous mounts. There they remained, hidden in silence for centuries, until one of them emerged from exile. She spoke of wonders and miracles amidst the distant sands, insisting she had found, along with her brethren, the most sacred of places, where temperance was the rule of a man’s heart and the beast was under sway. Allegedly, the chasm they had found was alive with the howl of the winds, and the groans they produced were able to convey distinct emotions according to the place one occupied within the perilous stretches of land between the rocks. One such spot allowed them to pacify the Beast, leading to an easier way of meditation and therefore to a shortcut to Golconda. So calming were the fresh waves that reached the chasm that all her companions had given into a sweet and long slumber. Only her had awakened, deciding to spread the word and bring others to such holy place of peace and enlightenment.

Soon many decided to follow her back. Centuries would pass once more before anything was heard from them once more. Again, she returned alone, claiming their newfound companions joined the others in rest and promising they would wake up once again In due time.
As soon as she decided to put together a new party to return to the chasm, a group of vampires sworn under the local Justicar decided to take action and investigate the place. Together, they convinced her they were seekers of Golconda. Twelve attempted to earn her trust.

Only five succeeded. As they followed her into the desert, apprehension fell upon all of the sworn.

Ages passed by as those who stayed behind tried to discover their destination. Unsuccessful, they never resigned, keeping their hopes up and patrolling the desert throughout hundreds of years.

Now, their faith and loyalty is to be finally rewarded. If the rumors are true, three elders appeared in the horizon and entered Cairo, speaking once more of salvation through the path to Golconda…

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T14:57:44Z

Archon Basileus:

'''MACABRIA'''

2016-08-26T14:55:30Z

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T14:55:20Z

Archon Basileus:

Lords of the Dead is our home-made version of an elder Vampire game. We employ a mix of official-choice rules and some of our own. Below we present a description of PCs, NPCs, places of interest and setting details. Everything placed here is of an optional nature. Aspects of the game might change according to the player's particular choices and preferences.

== PCs ==

[[Samuz]]

== SETTING ==

In this version of the World of Darkness, several ancient secrets are accessible to the player characters, given their age and experience. The world has been deeply affected by supernatural presence, and mortal life is heavily influenced by dark plots and immortal needs. This is mostly apparent when mortal existence is confronted by the ever-growing concerns of neonates and ancillae, those who control directly the mundane ways of the world. But what about the truly ancient secrets of history? What about the Methuselahs and their titanic expectations?

Surely their own agendas would change the world in unpredictable and tremendous ways…
Many of the things we’re about to present are the result of centuries of hidden history, in which the most ancient and powerful creatures of darkness attempted to adapt to a reality far too frail and delicate to accommodate their conflicts and power games. Some represent the lost and hidden history of the supernatural races, others are simply the remnants of old experiments, others yet are novelties brought up by the awakening of the ancients. Most of them are fabled among younger and less experienced members of each race, spoken in hushed tones in courts around the globe. One thing they have in common, though: all of them belong to the collective unconsciousness that crowd men’s nightmares since the dawn of time.

[['''RUINS OF THE SECOND CITY''']]

[['''THE NECROPOLIS''']]

[['''MACABRIA''']]

Known in myth and pop culture, Macabria received its’ place in mankind’s imagination on account of an old goth song signed by a famous 80’s rock band. The legend that spawned the ballad was far older, though, being mentioned in vampire lore and tomes for centuries, if not millennia.

Macabria is the Paradise Archetype for all vampires. It has received a visible presence among umbral realms at some point in history (no one knows exactly when), representing “the land of overflowing blood”, where “the red moon never fades, despite its’ phases” and “the Beast sides with intellect”. This dream of hunters has been described in many ways and given many identities. Some ascetic vampires, mostly spiritual thaumaturgy practitioners, say that they have achieved this plane of existence. Some describe it as a state of being (maybe under the influence of the concept of Golconda), while others consider it an entire separate world. Matching portraits present “rivers of flowing, warm blood”, “red flowers that sprout pleasure”, “temples where men, beasts and strangest creatures are available to satisfy every vampiric pleasure”. The details vary with the philosophical conceptions of each individual.
It is said that the so called Temple of Love, built within the Necropolis, was conceived from dreams that the architect dreamt within Macabria. Several other aspects of necropolitan architecture revisit the myth.

== The Solace of Reason ==

The Solace of Reason is an ancient monastery, dating back to the days of the first meditative hermits of Egypt. When the apprentices of Mark Apostle decided to take to the desert and reach illumination by contemplative exile, they were followed by a group of Capadocian ascetics with similar intent. These undead searched the dry vastness for years before settling down in a secluded chasm, under the deep shadows of ominous mounts. There they remained, hidden in silence for centuries, until one of them emerged from exile. She spoke of wonders and miracles amidst the distant sands, insisting she had found, along with her brethren, the most sacred of places, where temperance was the rule of a man’s heart and the beast was under sway. Allegedly, the chasm they had found was alive with the howl of the winds, and the groans they produced were able to convey distinct emotions according to the place one occupied within the perilous stretches of land between the rocks. One such spot allowed them to pacify the Beast, leading to an easier way of meditation and therefore to a shortcut to Golconda. So calming were the fresh waves that reached the chasm that all her companions had given into a sweet and long slumber. Only her had awakened, deciding to spread the word and bring others to such holy place of peace and enlightenment.

Soon many decided to follow her back. Centuries would pass once more before anything was heard from them once more. Again, she returned alone, claiming their newfound companions joined the others in rest and promising they would wake up once again In due time.
As soon as she decided to put together a new party to return to the chasm, a group of vampires sworn under the local Justicar decided to take action and investigate the place. Together, they convinced her they were seekers of Golconda. Twelve attempted to earn her trust.

Only five succeeded. As they followed her into the desert, apprehension fell upon all of the sworn.

Ages passed by as those who stayed behind tried to discover their destination. Unsuccessful, they never resigned, keeping their hopes up and patrolling the desert throughout hundreds of years.

Now, their faith and loyalty is to be finally rewarded. If the rumors are true, three elders appeared in the horizon and entered Cairo, speaking once more of salvation through the path to Golconda…

== LEGENDS ==

== Timeweavers ==

Cephalos entered the yard in silence. At least a decade had passed since last he stepped onto it to perform his rituals, a habit he kept, if only to remember how far he had gone since his embrace, ages before. Overtaken by tall grass and silence, it was in ruins. Once, long ago, this had been the place of his ancestors and his sons. Time would take everything from him, though, the price of blood paid in full. Cephalos reached for the almost unseen altar in the center, the pyre unlit and the stone unclean. He was to begin his prayer when he saw the tall figure coming from the shadows.

“Cato” – the old corpse said to the other. “Finished arguing with your son-in-law, I presume?”

The other one, stiff severe face of a roman, bowed his head as to recognize the jest.

No smile came out of him, though.

“Here we are, old friend.”

“Here we are.”

“Would you allow me to help? We share the same blood, after all.”

“Indeed. Brother and offspring, you are, good Cato.” – between the two of them, no sentiment rose. Only a subtle form of trust enticed the elders as they silently rose prayers at the ruined altar.”

After moments of silence, they gazed each other.

“How deed it strike you, Cephalos? Knowing for the first time you had the power to twist your fate…. Knowing you would be forever fated to contemplate their inevitable ends while you yourself struggled against our own determinist reality?”

“I believe it was the very last moment of my life that allowed me an overwhelming sense of fear… As if engulfed by fire, I rested my expectations entirely in the possibility of unveiling time itself, as the Fates would have, I’m sure, even before the oldest of gods. Nonetheless….”

“Nonetheless it is still uncertain, your fatal resolution, is it not, old friend?”

“In a way, yes. You do know what they say about our gift, do you not, Cato?”

“They say many things, Cephalos.”

“Many, for sure. One calls my attention, though. Perhaps the closest one to our experiences. Suppose we had the chance to muster all the strength of the blood in one epiphany, a single moment of universal realization, to bring all other moments to their ruinous truths. Suppose that…”

“That someone could contemplate the end of all things…”

“The end of all things…”

“Therefore, your absence, your silence, for all these years.”

“Precisely.”

“In other words, you do believe there was a first one to fight against fate itself, attempting to control all circumstances throughout our history. Nevertheless, what good would come of it, should it’s reasons be solely it’s own?”

“He who faces fate and rescinds to the heart of his own secrets might as well become fate. Foreseeing everything by his own power, free at last to live forever, to remain as others fall.”

“Or enslaved by his own sense of responsibility, doomed to try and trick Fortune in order to leave his legacy.”

“Yes….”

Surprise took Cato, suddenly. Not a common vista.

“You….”

“A glimpse, my friend. Of another, worry not. And the resolution…. How painful.”

“Are you to sacrifice yourself, then?”

“No. I adopted a riskier, yet more pragmatic, way out of my predicament.”

“Which is…?”

“Bringing fate itself into tomes of knowledge for the victim to find. In a very straightforward manner. No mysteries. Until the day we meet. Until the day it is safe to meet.”

“Is he one of us?”

“Yes. And of old blood, as well.”

“Why is he so relevant?”

“He might be a means to an end. Maybe more. As far as my sight leads me… He might well be the resolution for our deepest fears and doubts.”

“To uncover the end?”

“To uncover the end. The end of all things.”

== A THOUSAND NIGHTS ==

Night, high moon. The penthouse studio saw the silver light filling every inch of it’s manor-like interior, bathed in gradual pale touches as the steel blinds opened with a hum.

“You overslept, love….” – she said, as he pressed on the controls.

“I’ve earned it, dear Dejah.” – the blonde, pale man contemplated the white towers of this new-century Dubai, raging lights against a clear nocturnal sky.

“Do you remember the days of youth, lost so long ago, love?” – Dejah embraced the other one from behind, watching stars as they vanished behind the skyscrapers. A smile crossed the other one’s face.

“Yes, I do, geliebte. How we wandered, how we came to know intimately the myriads of light that measured our steps!”

“Do you miss it, love?”

He turned towards her, contemplative and soft in his manners. He was in love once more, as he had been a thousand nights before, for a thousand years.

“You know me very well…. I do. You know I do.”

Silence fell upon the couple.

“The Sheik enjoyed your observations. Jon is downstairs…. Feeding.” – another moment of silence.

“We should leave, Markus. Leave this place behind…. There is nothing for us here. Nothing. The sheik…”

“The sheik can’t protect us forever, I know. Nevertheless, he has something we still need.”

“There are other blood diviners around the world, Markus…”

“But only one to be called prince of Dubai, geliebte! I promise you, in due time…”

A shadow of resentment fell upon her face.

“In due time… What happened to the bold knight that defeated his assassin so many years ago?”

“He fell in love for his assassin… And he wishes for her to come to no harm…”

As he approached her, Dejah held a heavy disposition. Still accepting his caresses, her thoughts returned to the last contract she ever took under the banners of her bloodline, as well as her failure... Slowly, her body tensed, thinking about the future and what it had in store for them.

“What is it, Dejah?” – she could not escape his gaze. They never escaped each other.

For seconds, she hesitated, as if trying to find a way out of that conversation. They were tied together, he embraced her. By now, he could feel her subtle, distant trembling and apprehension. They never escaped each other… She rose her eyes towards him and saw only anticipation. He knew it already. No words were needed.

He smiled slowly, relief and satisfaction resting upon his visage.

“I knew it. Solomon’s treasures would buy Sheik Vathek’s cooperation! Now, where is it, my darling?”

“Somewhere in Vienna, my dear…” – her voice was heavy. Markus’ smile vanished slowly, but resolve did not leave him, she could see it.

“Vienna, of all places… I could not bring myself to call it home, but the harsh memories it holds make it appropriate… Soon, my love, soon...”

“We don’t have to do this….”

“The Champion of Blood guarantees your survival, my dear…. None of your fellow clansmen will dare approach you with ill intent once you hold it in your hands. We’ll be free, geliebte! We’ll roam the world once more, side by side… As you wished for so many years!”

“Only if you….. we…. Survive.”

His eyes shone moonlight as he rested them upon her visage. They were so impassionate about each other, a love beyond explanation or measure! A thousand nights, in a thousand years, and never an ounce of doubt!

“No peril is too great… As long as it gives you eternity.”

Ah, Fortune... Such misery as love can only be true as it unfolds its own tragedy…

The Necropolis

2016-08-26T14:53:46Z

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T14:53:24Z

Archon Basileus:

Lords of the Dead is our home-made version of an elder Vampire game. We employ a mix of official-choice rules and some of our own. Below we present a description of PCs, NPCs, places of interest and setting details. Everything placed here is of an optional nature. Aspects of the game might change according to the player's particular choices and preferences.

== PCs ==

[[Samuz]]

== SETTING ==

In this version of the World of Darkness, several ancient secrets are accessible to the player characters, given their age and experience. The world has been deeply affected by supernatural presence, and mortal life is heavily influenced by dark plots and immortal needs. This is mostly apparent when mortal existence is confronted by the ever-growing concerns of neonates and ancillae, those who control directly the mundane ways of the world. But what about the truly ancient secrets of history? What about the Methuselahs and their titanic expectations?

Surely their own agendas would change the world in unpredictable and tremendous ways…
Many of the things we’re about to present are the result of centuries of hidden history, in which the most ancient and powerful creatures of darkness attempted to adapt to a reality far too frail and delicate to accommodate their conflicts and power games. Some represent the lost and hidden history of the supernatural races, others are simply the remnants of old experiments, others yet are novelties brought up by the awakening of the ancients. Most of them are fabled among younger and less experienced members of each race, spoken in hushed tones in courts around the globe. One thing they have in common, though: all of them belong to the collective unconsciousness that crowd men’s nightmares since the dawn of time.

[[Ruins of The Second City]]

The second city, long gone to the other side of the Shroud, still sits on an island, guarded by enslaved souls and visited in nightmares by ancient vampires obsessed with the race’s origins. Even though the access has become more difficult since the gates of the Abyss have been broken, the city resists and the Tal’Mahe’Ra still thrives among the silent halls once inhabited by the so-called Third Generation.

[[The Necropolis]]

Long ago, a conclave within a conclave of vampires decided to build a haven of cyclopean proportions somewhere in the Ural. Inspired by the power that ancient princes exerted upon mankind, these undead waged war against many nations, enslaving it’s citizens and taking them back.

Feeding them their own blood, the vampiric lords of the mountains ordered massive excavations and designed impossible feats of engineering and architecture. After two centuries of blood, violence and sacrifice, the Necropolis was erected, a testament to the old vampire cities of times past.

The Necropolis was kept secret throughout millennia by a system of political control and arcane rituals, much like those once met at Hunedoara Castle (It is believed that the spells employed in the Lair were semblances of more potent wards that protected the Necropolis). It is said that blood never went scarce within its’ halls and sun never shone within. Incantations guaranteed that only those blessed with vitae could see the seven gates (in mockery of sacred Thebes) that led to the city. Across the streets and galleries of the Undead City, immortals led courtesan lives and indulged in dark passions, plotting against each other and planning the fate of the world. Secessions happened as ages went by, to the point that many undead left the city, defeated, only to build newer versions of the legendary Undead City.
Nowadays, all factions claim presence and power within Necropolis’ courts. Originally it was ruled by an independent Consortium of undead merchants and schemers. As time passed, they became powerful enough to be considered an autonomous faction in and off themselves. Nevertheless, alliances were made and in the end factions placed permanent representatives within the Necropolis. When the Sabbat rose to power, it was received within the halls of the Undead City, side by side with the Camarilla. Nowadays, the factions share the same space under the rules of the Consortium. They are not allowed to attack each other. Still, the political strife between the two enemies continues to this day. Tal’Mahe’Ra representatives, as well as Inconnu and Cathayans, have been known to participate in necropolitan politics, amassing great numbers within its’ walls.

== Macabria ==

Known in myth and pop culture, Macabria received its’ place in mankind’s imagination on account of an old goth song signed by a famous 80’s rock band. The legend that spawned the ballad was far older, though, being mentioned in vampire lore and tomes for centuries, if not millennia.

Macabria is the Paradise Archetype for all vampires. It has received a visible presence among umbral realms at some point in history (no one knows exactly when), representing “the land of overflowing blood”, where “the red moon never fades, despite its’ phases” and “the Beast sides with intellect”. This dream of hunters has been described in many ways and given many identities. Some ascetic vampires, mostly spiritual thaumaturgy practitioners, say that they have achieved this plane of existence. Some describe it as a state of being (maybe under the influence of the concept of Golconda), while others consider it an entire separate world. Matching portraits present “rivers of flowing, warm blood”, “red flowers that sprout pleasure”, “temples where men, beasts and strangest creatures are available to satisfy every vampiric pleasure”. The details vary with the philosophical conceptions of each individual.
It is said that the so called Temple of Love, built within the Necropolis, was conceived from dreams that the architect dreamt within Macabria. Several other aspects of necropolitan architecture revisit the myth.

== The Solace of Reason ==

The Solace of Reason is an ancient monastery, dating back to the days of the first meditative hermits of Egypt. When the apprentices of Mark Apostle decided to take to the desert and reach illumination by contemplative exile, they were followed by a group of Capadocian ascetics with similar intent. These undead searched the dry vastness for years before settling down in a secluded chasm, under the deep shadows of ominous mounts. There they remained, hidden in silence for centuries, until one of them emerged from exile. She spoke of wonders and miracles amidst the distant sands, insisting she had found, along with her brethren, the most sacred of places, where temperance was the rule of a man’s heart and the beast was under sway. Allegedly, the chasm they had found was alive with the howl of the winds, and the groans they produced were able to convey distinct emotions according to the place one occupied within the perilous stretches of land between the rocks. One such spot allowed them to pacify the Beast, leading to an easier way of meditation and therefore to a shortcut to Golconda. So calming were the fresh waves that reached the chasm that all her companions had given into a sweet and long slumber. Only her had awakened, deciding to spread the word and bring others to such holy place of peace and enlightenment.

Soon many decided to follow her back. Centuries would pass once more before anything was heard from them once more. Again, she returned alone, claiming their newfound companions joined the others in rest and promising they would wake up once again In due time.
As soon as she decided to put together a new party to return to the chasm, a group of vampires sworn under the local Justicar decided to take action and investigate the place. Together, they convinced her they were seekers of Golconda. Twelve attempted to earn her trust.

Only five succeeded. As they followed her into the desert, apprehension fell upon all of the sworn.

Ages passed by as those who stayed behind tried to discover their destination. Unsuccessful, they never resigned, keeping their hopes up and patrolling the desert throughout hundreds of years.

Now, their faith and loyalty is to be finally rewarded. If the rumors are true, three elders appeared in the horizon and entered Cairo, speaking once more of salvation through the path to Golconda…

== LEGENDS ==

== Timeweavers ==

Cephalos entered the yard in silence. At least a decade had passed since last he stepped onto it to perform his rituals, a habit he kept, if only to remember how far he had gone since his embrace, ages before. Overtaken by tall grass and silence, it was in ruins. Once, long ago, this had been the place of his ancestors and his sons. Time would take everything from him, though, the price of blood paid in full. Cephalos reached for the almost unseen altar in the center, the pyre unlit and the stone unclean. He was to begin his prayer when he saw the tall figure coming from the shadows.

“Cato” – the old corpse said to the other. “Finished arguing with your son-in-law, I presume?”

The other one, stiff severe face of a roman, bowed his head as to recognize the jest.

No smile came out of him, though.

“Here we are, old friend.”

“Here we are.”

“Would you allow me to help? We share the same blood, after all.”

“Indeed. Brother and offspring, you are, good Cato.” – between the two of them, no sentiment rose. Only a subtle form of trust enticed the elders as they silently rose prayers at the ruined altar.”

After moments of silence, they gazed each other.

“How deed it strike you, Cephalos? Knowing for the first time you had the power to twist your fate…. Knowing you would be forever fated to contemplate their inevitable ends while you yourself struggled against our own determinist reality?”

“I believe it was the very last moment of my life that allowed me an overwhelming sense of fear… As if engulfed by fire, I rested my expectations entirely in the possibility of unveiling time itself, as the Fates would have, I’m sure, even before the oldest of gods. Nonetheless….”

“Nonetheless it is still uncertain, your fatal resolution, is it not, old friend?”

“In a way, yes. You do know what they say about our gift, do you not, Cato?”

“They say many things, Cephalos.”

“Many, for sure. One calls my attention, though. Perhaps the closest one to our experiences. Suppose we had the chance to muster all the strength of the blood in one epiphany, a single moment of universal realization, to bring all other moments to their ruinous truths. Suppose that…”

“That someone could contemplate the end of all things…”

“The end of all things…”

“Therefore, your absence, your silence, for all these years.”

“Precisely.”

“In other words, you do believe there was a first one to fight against fate itself, attempting to control all circumstances throughout our history. Nevertheless, what good would come of it, should it’s reasons be solely it’s own?”

“He who faces fate and rescinds to the heart of his own secrets might as well become fate. Foreseeing everything by his own power, free at last to live forever, to remain as others fall.”

“Or enslaved by his own sense of responsibility, doomed to try and trick Fortune in order to leave his legacy.”

“Yes….”

Surprise took Cato, suddenly. Not a common vista.

“You….”

“A glimpse, my friend. Of another, worry not. And the resolution…. How painful.”

“Are you to sacrifice yourself, then?”

“No. I adopted a riskier, yet more pragmatic, way out of my predicament.”

“Which is…?”

“Bringing fate itself into tomes of knowledge for the victim to find. In a very straightforward manner. No mysteries. Until the day we meet. Until the day it is safe to meet.”

“Is he one of us?”

“Yes. And of old blood, as well.”

“Why is he so relevant?”

“He might be a means to an end. Maybe more. As far as my sight leads me… He might well be the resolution for our deepest fears and doubts.”

“To uncover the end?”

“To uncover the end. The end of all things.”

== A THOUSAND NIGHTS ==

Night, high moon. The penthouse studio saw the silver light filling every inch of it’s manor-like interior, bathed in gradual pale touches as the steel blinds opened with a hum.

“You overslept, love….” – she said, as he pressed on the controls.

“I’ve earned it, dear Dejah.” – the blonde, pale man contemplated the white towers of this new-century Dubai, raging lights against a clear nocturnal sky.

“Do you remember the days of youth, lost so long ago, love?” – Dejah embraced the other one from behind, watching stars as they vanished behind the skyscrapers. A smile crossed the other one’s face.

“Yes, I do, geliebte. How we wandered, how we came to know intimately the myriads of light that measured our steps!”

“Do you miss it, love?”

He turned towards her, contemplative and soft in his manners. He was in love once more, as he had been a thousand nights before, for a thousand years.

“You know me very well…. I do. You know I do.”

Silence fell upon the couple.

“The Sheik enjoyed your observations. Jon is downstairs…. Feeding.” – another moment of silence.

“We should leave, Markus. Leave this place behind…. There is nothing for us here. Nothing. The sheik…”

“The sheik can’t protect us forever, I know. Nevertheless, he has something we still need.”

“There are other blood diviners around the world, Markus…”

“But only one to be called prince of Dubai, geliebte! I promise you, in due time…”

A shadow of resentment fell upon her face.

“In due time… What happened to the bold knight that defeated his assassin so many years ago?”

“He fell in love for his assassin… And he wishes for her to come to no harm…”

As he approached her, Dejah held a heavy disposition. Still accepting his caresses, her thoughts returned to the last contract she ever took under the banners of her bloodline, as well as her failure... Slowly, her body tensed, thinking about the future and what it had in store for them.

“What is it, Dejah?” – she could not escape his gaze. They never escaped each other.

For seconds, she hesitated, as if trying to find a way out of that conversation. They were tied together, he embraced her. By now, he could feel her subtle, distant trembling and apprehension. They never escaped each other… She rose her eyes towards him and saw only anticipation. He knew it already. No words were needed.

He smiled slowly, relief and satisfaction resting upon his visage.

“I knew it. Solomon’s treasures would buy Sheik Vathek’s cooperation! Now, where is it, my darling?”

“Somewhere in Vienna, my dear…” – her voice was heavy. Markus’ smile vanished slowly, but resolve did not leave him, she could see it.

“Vienna, of all places… I could not bring myself to call it home, but the harsh memories it holds make it appropriate… Soon, my love, soon...”

“We don’t have to do this….”

“The Champion of Blood guarantees your survival, my dear…. None of your fellow clansmen will dare approach you with ill intent once you hold it in your hands. We’ll be free, geliebte! We’ll roam the world once more, side by side… As you wished for so many years!”

“Only if you….. we…. Survive.”

His eyes shone moonlight as he rested them upon her visage. They were so impassionate about each other, a love beyond explanation or measure! A thousand nights, in a thousand years, and never an ounce of doubt!

“No peril is too great… As long as it gives you eternity.”

Ah, Fortune... Such misery as love can only be true as it unfolds its own tragedy…

== Ruins of The Second City ==

2016-08-26T14:52:09Z

Archon Basileus: Created page with "== Ruins of the Second City == The second city, long gone to the other side of the Shroud, still sits on an island, guarded by enslaved souls and visited in nightmares by anc..."

== Ruins of the Second City ==

The second city, long gone to the other side of the Shroud, still sits on an island, guarded by enslaved souls and visited in nightmares by ancient vampires obsessed with the race’s origins. Even though the access has become more difficult since the gates of the Abyss have been broken, the city resists and the Tal’Mahe’Ra still thrives among the silent halls once inhabited by the so-called Third Generation.

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T14:51:03Z

Archon Basileus:

Lords of the Dead is our home-made version of an elder Vampire game. We employ a mix of official-choice rules and some of our own. Below we present a description of PCs, NPCs, places of interest and setting details. Everything placed here is of an optional nature. Aspects of the game might change according to the player's particular choices and preferences.

== PCs ==

[[Samuz]]

== SETTING ==

In this version of the World of Darkness, several ancient secrets are accessible to the player characters, given their age and experience. The world has been deeply affected by supernatural presence, and mortal life is heavily influenced by dark plots and immortal needs. This is mostly apparent when mortal existence is confronted by the ever-growing concerns of neonates and ancillae, those who control directly the mundane ways of the world. But what about the truly ancient secrets of history? What about the Methuselahs and their titanic expectations?

Surely their own agendas would change the world in unpredictable and tremendous ways…
Many of the things we’re about to present are the result of centuries of hidden history, in which the most ancient and powerful creatures of darkness attempted to adapt to a reality far too frail and delicate to accommodate their conflicts and power games. Some represent the lost and hidden history of the supernatural races, others are simply the remnants of old experiments, others yet are novelties brought up by the awakening of the ancients. Most of them are fabled among younger and less experienced members of each race, spoken in hushed tones in courts around the globe. One thing they have in common, though: all of them belong to the collective unconsciousness that crowd men’s nightmares since the dawn of time.

[[== Ruins of The Second City ==]]

The second city, long gone to the other side of the Shroud, still sits on an island, guarded by enslaved souls and visited in nightmares by ancient vampires obsessed with the race’s origins. Even though the access has become more difficult since the gates of the Abyss have been broken, the city resists and the Tal’Mahe’Ra still thrives among the silent halls once inhabited by the so-called Third Generation.

== The Necropolis ==

Long ago, a conclave within a conclave of vampires decided to build a haven of cyclopean proportions somewhere in the Ural. Inspired by the power that ancient princes exerted upon mankind, these undead waged war against many nations, enslaving it’s citizens and taking them back.

Feeding them their own blood, the vampiric lords of the mountains ordered massive excavations and designed impossible feats of engineering and architecture. After two centuries of blood, violence and sacrifice, the Necropolis was erected, a testament to the old vampire cities of times past.

The Necropolis was kept secret throughout millennia by a system of political control and arcane rituals, much like those once met at Hunedoara Castle (It is believed that the spells employed in the Lair were semblances of more potent wards that protected the Necropolis). It is said that blood never went scarce within its’ halls and sun never shone within. Incantations guaranteed that only those blessed with vitae could see the seven gates (in mockery of sacred Thebes) that led to the city. Across the streets and galleries of the Undead City, immortals led courtesan lives and indulged in dark passions, plotting against each other and planning the fate of the world. Secessions happened as ages went by, to the point that many undead left the city, defeated, only to build newer versions of the legendary Undead City.
Nowadays, all factions claim presence and power within Necropolis’ courts. Originally it was ruled by an independent Consortium of undead merchants and schemers. As time passed, they became powerful enough to be considered an autonomous faction in and off themselves. Nevertheless, alliances were made and in the end factions placed permanent representatives within the Necropolis. When the Sabbat rose to power, it was received within the halls of the Undead City, side by side with the Camarilla. Nowadays, the factions share the same space under the rules of the Consortium. They are not allowed to attack each other. Still, the political strife between the two enemies continues to this day. Tal’Mahe’Ra representatives, as well as Inconnu and Cathayans, have been known to participate in necropolitan politics, amassing great numbers within its’ walls.

== Macabria ==

Known in myth and pop culture, Macabria received its’ place in mankind’s imagination on account of an old goth song signed by a famous 80’s rock band. The legend that spawned the ballad was far older, though, being mentioned in vampire lore and tomes for centuries, if not millennia.

Macabria is the Paradise Archetype for all vampires. It has received a visible presence among umbral realms at some point in history (no one knows exactly when), representing “the land of overflowing blood”, where “the red moon never fades, despite its’ phases” and “the Beast sides with intellect”. This dream of hunters has been described in many ways and given many identities. Some ascetic vampires, mostly spiritual thaumaturgy practitioners, say that they have achieved this plane of existence. Some describe it as a state of being (maybe under the influence of the concept of Golconda), while others consider it an entire separate world. Matching portraits present “rivers of flowing, warm blood”, “red flowers that sprout pleasure”, “temples where men, beasts and strangest creatures are available to satisfy every vampiric pleasure”. The details vary with the philosophical conceptions of each individual.
It is said that the so called Temple of Love, built within the Necropolis, was conceived from dreams that the architect dreamt within Macabria. Several other aspects of necropolitan architecture revisit the myth.

== The Solace of Reason ==

The Solace of Reason is an ancient monastery, dating back to the days of the first meditative hermits of Egypt. When the apprentices of Mark Apostle decided to take to the desert and reach illumination by contemplative exile, they were followed by a group of Capadocian ascetics with similar intent. These undead searched the dry vastness for years before settling down in a secluded chasm, under the deep shadows of ominous mounts. There they remained, hidden in silence for centuries, until one of them emerged from exile. She spoke of wonders and miracles amidst the distant sands, insisting she had found, along with her brethren, the most sacred of places, where temperance was the rule of a man’s heart and the beast was under sway. Allegedly, the chasm they had found was alive with the howl of the winds, and the groans they produced were able to convey distinct emotions according to the place one occupied within the perilous stretches of land between the rocks. One such spot allowed them to pacify the Beast, leading to an easier way of meditation and therefore to a shortcut to Golconda. So calming were the fresh waves that reached the chasm that all her companions had given into a sweet and long slumber. Only her had awakened, deciding to spread the word and bring others to such holy place of peace and enlightenment.

Soon many decided to follow her back. Centuries would pass once more before anything was heard from them once more. Again, she returned alone, claiming their newfound companions joined the others in rest and promising they would wake up once again In due time.
As soon as she decided to put together a new party to return to the chasm, a group of vampires sworn under the local Justicar decided to take action and investigate the place. Together, they convinced her they were seekers of Golconda. Twelve attempted to earn her trust.

Only five succeeded. As they followed her into the desert, apprehension fell upon all of the sworn.

Ages passed by as those who stayed behind tried to discover their destination. Unsuccessful, they never resigned, keeping their hopes up and patrolling the desert throughout hundreds of years.

Now, their faith and loyalty is to be finally rewarded. If the rumors are true, three elders appeared in the horizon and entered Cairo, speaking once more of salvation through the path to Golconda…

== LEGENDS ==

== Timeweavers ==

Cephalos entered the yard in silence. At least a decade had passed since last he stepped onto it to perform his rituals, a habit he kept, if only to remember how far he had gone since his embrace, ages before. Overtaken by tall grass and silence, it was in ruins. Once, long ago, this had been the place of his ancestors and his sons. Time would take everything from him, though, the price of blood paid in full. Cephalos reached for the almost unseen altar in the center, the pyre unlit and the stone unclean. He was to begin his prayer when he saw the tall figure coming from the shadows.

“Cato” – the old corpse said to the other. “Finished arguing with your son-in-law, I presume?”

The other one, stiff severe face of a roman, bowed his head as to recognize the jest.

No smile came out of him, though.

“Here we are, old friend.”

“Here we are.”

“Would you allow me to help? We share the same blood, after all.”

“Indeed. Brother and offspring, you are, good Cato.” – between the two of them, no sentiment rose. Only a subtle form of trust enticed the elders as they silently rose prayers at the ruined altar.”

After moments of silence, they gazed each other.

“How deed it strike you, Cephalos? Knowing for the first time you had the power to twist your fate…. Knowing you would be forever fated to contemplate their inevitable ends while you yourself struggled against our own determinist reality?”

“I believe it was the very last moment of my life that allowed me an overwhelming sense of fear… As if engulfed by fire, I rested my expectations entirely in the possibility of unveiling time itself, as the Fates would have, I’m sure, even before the oldest of gods. Nonetheless….”

“Nonetheless it is still uncertain, your fatal resolution, is it not, old friend?”

“In a way, yes. You do know what they say about our gift, do you not, Cato?”

“They say many things, Cephalos.”

“Many, for sure. One calls my attention, though. Perhaps the closest one to our experiences. Suppose we had the chance to muster all the strength of the blood in one epiphany, a single moment of universal realization, to bring all other moments to their ruinous truths. Suppose that…”

“That someone could contemplate the end of all things…”

“The end of all things…”

“Therefore, your absence, your silence, for all these years.”

“Precisely.”

“In other words, you do believe there was a first one to fight against fate itself, attempting to control all circumstances throughout our history. Nevertheless, what good would come of it, should it’s reasons be solely it’s own?”

“He who faces fate and rescinds to the heart of his own secrets might as well become fate. Foreseeing everything by his own power, free at last to live forever, to remain as others fall.”

“Or enslaved by his own sense of responsibility, doomed to try and trick Fortune in order to leave his legacy.”

“Yes….”

Surprise took Cato, suddenly. Not a common vista.

“You….”

“A glimpse, my friend. Of another, worry not. And the resolution…. How painful.”

“Are you to sacrifice yourself, then?”

“No. I adopted a riskier, yet more pragmatic, way out of my predicament.”

“Which is…?”

“Bringing fate itself into tomes of knowledge for the victim to find. In a very straightforward manner. No mysteries. Until the day we meet. Until the day it is safe to meet.”

“Is he one of us?”

“Yes. And of old blood, as well.”

“Why is he so relevant?”

“He might be a means to an end. Maybe more. As far as my sight leads me… He might well be the resolution for our deepest fears and doubts.”

“To uncover the end?”

“To uncover the end. The end of all things.”

== A THOUSAND NIGHTS ==

Night, high moon. The penthouse studio saw the silver light filling every inch of it’s manor-like interior, bathed in gradual pale touches as the steel blinds opened with a hum.

“You overslept, love….” – she said, as he pressed on the controls.

“I’ve earned it, dear Dejah.” – the blonde, pale man contemplated the white towers of this new-century Dubai, raging lights against a clear nocturnal sky.

“Do you remember the days of youth, lost so long ago, love?” – Dejah embraced the other one from behind, watching stars as they vanished behind the skyscrapers. A smile crossed the other one’s face.

“Yes, I do, geliebte. How we wandered, how we came to know intimately the myriads of light that measured our steps!”

“Do you miss it, love?”

He turned towards her, contemplative and soft in his manners. He was in love once more, as he had been a thousand nights before, for a thousand years.

“You know me very well…. I do. You know I do.”

Silence fell upon the couple.

“The Sheik enjoyed your observations. Jon is downstairs…. Feeding.” – another moment of silence.

“We should leave, Markus. Leave this place behind…. There is nothing for us here. Nothing. The sheik…”

“The sheik can’t protect us forever, I know. Nevertheless, he has something we still need.”

“There are other blood diviners around the world, Markus…”

“But only one to be called prince of Dubai, geliebte! I promise you, in due time…”

A shadow of resentment fell upon her face.

“In due time… What happened to the bold knight that defeated his assassin so many years ago?”

“He fell in love for his assassin… And he wishes for her to come to no harm…”

As he approached her, Dejah held a heavy disposition. Still accepting his caresses, her thoughts returned to the last contract she ever took under the banners of her bloodline, as well as her failure... Slowly, her body tensed, thinking about the future and what it had in store for them.

“What is it, Dejah?” – she could not escape his gaze. They never escaped each other.

For seconds, she hesitated, as if trying to find a way out of that conversation. They were tied together, he embraced her. By now, he could feel her subtle, distant trembling and apprehension. They never escaped each other… She rose her eyes towards him and saw only anticipation. He knew it already. No words were needed.

He smiled slowly, relief and satisfaction resting upon his visage.

“I knew it. Solomon’s treasures would buy Sheik Vathek’s cooperation! Now, where is it, my darling?”

“Somewhere in Vienna, my dear…” – her voice was heavy. Markus’ smile vanished slowly, but resolve did not leave him, she could see it.

“Vienna, of all places… I could not bring myself to call it home, but the harsh memories it holds make it appropriate… Soon, my love, soon...”

“We don’t have to do this….”

“The Champion of Blood guarantees your survival, my dear…. None of your fellow clansmen will dare approach you with ill intent once you hold it in your hands. We’ll be free, geliebte! We’ll roam the world once more, side by side… As you wished for so many years!”

“Only if you….. we…. Survive.”

His eyes shone moonlight as he rested them upon her visage. They were so impassionate about each other, a love beyond explanation or measure! A thousand nights, in a thousand years, and never an ounce of doubt!

“No peril is too great… As long as it gives you eternity.”

Ah, Fortune... Such misery as love can only be true as it unfolds its own tragedy…

Lords of the dead/Setting/Ruins of the second city

2016-08-26T14:50:03Z

Lords of the dead

2016-08-26T14:48:37Z

Archon Basileus:

Lords of the Dead is our home-made version of an elder Vampire game. We employ a mix of official-choice rules and some of our own. Below we present a description of PCs, NPCs, places of interest and setting details. Everything placed here is of an optional nature. Aspects of the game might change according to the player's particular choices and preferences.

== PCs ==

[[Samuz]]

== SETTING ==

In this version of the World of Darkness, several ancient secrets are accessible to the player characters, given their age and experience. The world has been deeply affected by supernatural presence, and mortal life is heavily influenced by dark plots and immortal needs. This is mostly apparent when mortal existence is confronted by the ever-growing concerns of neonates and ancillae, those who control directly the mundane ways of the world. But what about the truly ancient secrets of history? What about the Methuselahs and their titanic expectations?

Surely their own agendas would change the world in unpredictable and tremendous ways…
Many of the things we’re about to present are the result of centuries of hidden history, in which the most ancient and powerful creatures of darkness attempted to adapt to a reality far too frail and delicate to accommodate their conflicts and power games. Some represent the lost and hidden history of the supernatural races, others are simply the remnants of old experiments, others yet are novelties brought up by the awakening of the ancients. Most of them are fabled among younger and less experienced members of each race, spoken in hushed tones in courts around the globe. One thing they have in common, though: all of them belong to the collective unconsciousness that crowd men’s nightmares since the dawn of time.

== Ruins of The Second City ==

The second city, long gone to the other side of the Shroud, still sits on an island, guarded by enslaved souls and visited in nightmares by ancient vampires obsessed with the race’s origins. Even though the access has become more difficult since the gates of the Abyss have been broken, the city resists and the Tal’Mahe’Ra still thrives among the silent halls once inhabited by the so-called Third Generation.

== The Necropolis ==

Long ago, a conclave within a conclave of vampires decided to build a haven of cyclopean proportions somewhere in the Ural. Inspired by the power that ancient princes exerted upon mankind, these undead waged war against many nations, enslaving it’s citizens and taking them back.

Feeding them their own blood, the vampiric lords of the mountains ordered massive excavations and designed impossible feats of engineering and architecture. After two centuries of blood, violence and sacrifice, the Necropolis was erected, a testament to the old vampire cities of times past.

The Necropolis was kept secret throughout millennia by a system of political control and arcane rituals, much like those once met at Hunedoara Castle (It is believed that the spells employed in the Lair were semblances of more potent wards that protected the Necropolis). It is said that blood never went scarce within its’ halls and sun never shone within. Incantations guaranteed that only those blessed with vitae could see the seven gates (in mockery of sacred Thebes) that led to the city. Across the streets and galleries of the Undead City, immortals led courtesan lives and indulged in dark passions, plotting against each other and planning the fate of the world. Secessions happened as ages went by, to the point that many undead left the city, defeated, only to build newer versions of the legendary Undead City.
Nowadays, all factions claim presence and power within Necropolis’ courts. Originally it was ruled by an independent Consortium of undead merchants and schemers. As time passed, they became powerful enough to be considered an autonomous faction in and off themselves. Nevertheless, alliances were made and in the end factions placed permanent representatives within the Necropolis. When the Sabbat rose to power, it was received within the halls of the Undead City, side by side with the Camarilla. Nowadays, the factions share the same space under the rules of the Consortium. They are not allowed to attack each other. Still, the political strife between the two enemies continues to this day. Tal’Mahe’Ra representatives, as well as Inconnu and Cathayans, have been known to participate in necropolitan politics, amassing great numbers within its’ walls.

== Macabria ==

Known in myth and pop culture, Macabria received its’ place in mankind’s imagination on account of an old goth song signed by a famous 80’s rock band. The legend that spawned the ballad was far older, though, being mentioned in vampire lore and tomes for centuries, if not millennia.

Macabria is the Paradise Archetype for all vampires. It has received a visible presence among umbral realms at some point in history (no one knows exactly when), representing “the land of overflowing blood”, where “the red moon never fades, despite its’ phases” and “the Beast sides with intellect”. This dream of hunters has been described in many ways and given many identities. Some ascetic vampires, mostly spiritual thaumaturgy practitioners, say that they have achieved this plane of existence. Some describe it as a state of being (maybe under the influence of the concept of Golconda), while others consider it an entire separate world. Matching portraits present “rivers of flowing, warm blood”, “red flowers that sprout pleasure”, “temples where men, beasts and strangest creatures are available to satisfy every vampiric pleasure”. The details vary with the philosophical conceptions of each individual.
It is said that the so called Temple of Love, built within the Necropolis, was conceived from dreams that the architect dreamt within Macabria. Several other aspects of necropolitan architecture revisit the myth.

== The Solace of Reason ==

The Solace of Reason is an ancient monastery, dating back to the days of the first meditative hermits of Egypt. When the apprentices of Mark Apostle decided to take to the desert and reach illumination by contemplative exile, they were followed by a group of Capadocian ascetics with similar intent. These undead searched the dry vastness for years before settling down in a secluded chasm, under the deep shadows of ominous mounts. There they remained, hidden in silence for centuries, until one of them emerged from exile. She spoke of wonders and miracles amidst the distant sands, insisting she had found, along with her brethren, the most sacred of places, where temperance was the rule of a man’s heart and the beast was under sway. Allegedly, the chasm they had found was alive with the howl of the winds, and the groans they produced were able to convey distinct emotions according to the place one occupied within the perilous stretches of land between the rocks. One such spot allowed them to pacify the Beast, leading to an easier way of meditation and therefore to a shortcut to Golconda. So calming were the fresh waves that reached the chasm that all her companions had given into a sweet and long slumber. Only her had awakened, deciding to spread the word and bring others to such holy place of peace and enlightenment.

Soon many decided to follow her back. Centuries would pass once more before anything was heard from them once more. Again, she returned alone, claiming their newfound companions joined the others in rest and promising they would wake up once again In due time.
As soon as she decided to put together a new party to return to the chasm, a group of vampires sworn under the local Justicar decided to take action and investigate the place. Together, they convinced her they were seekers of Golconda. Twelve attempted to earn her trust.

Only five succeeded. As they followed her into the desert, apprehension fell upon all of the sworn.

Ages passed by as those who stayed behind tried to discover their destination. Unsuccessful, they never resigned, keeping their hopes up and patrolling the desert throughout hundreds of years.

Now, their faith and loyalty is to be finally rewarded. If the rumors are true, three elders appeared in the horizon and entered Cairo, speaking once more of salvation through the path to Golconda…

== LEGENDS ==

== Timeweavers ==

Cephalos entered the yard in silence. At least a decade had passed since last he stepped onto it to perform his rituals, a habit he kept, if only to remember how far he had gone since his embrace, ages before. Overtaken by tall grass and silence, it was in ruins. Once, long ago, this had been the place of his ancestors and his sons. Time would take everything from him, though, the price of blood paid in full. Cephalos reached for the almost unseen altar in the center, the pyre unlit and the stone unclean. He was to begin his prayer when he saw the tall figure coming from the shadows.

“Cato” – the old corpse said to the other. “Finished arguing with your son-in-law, I presume?”

The other one, stiff severe face of a roman, bowed his head as to recognize the jest.

No smile came out of him, though.

“Here we are, old friend.”

“Here we are.”

“Would you allow me to help? We share the same blood, after all.”

“Indeed. Brother and offspring, you are, good Cato.” – between the two of them, no sentiment rose. Only a subtle form of trust enticed the elders as they silently rose prayers at the ruined altar.”

After moments of silence, they gazed each other.

“How deed it strike you, Cephalos? Knowing for the first time you had the power to twist your fate…. Knowing you would be forever fated to contemplate their inevitable ends while you yourself struggled against our own determinist reality?”

“I believe it was the very last moment of my life that allowed me an overwhelming sense of fear… As if engulfed by fire, I rested my expectations entirely in the possibility of unveiling time itself, as the Fates would have, I’m sure, even before the oldest of gods. Nonetheless….”

“Nonetheless it is still uncertain, your fatal resolution, is it not, old friend?”

“In a way, yes. You do know what they say about our gift, do you not, Cato?”

“They say many things, Cephalos.”

“Many, for sure. One calls my attention, though. Perhaps the closest one to our experiences. Suppose we had the chance to muster all the strength of the blood in one epiphany, a single moment of universal realization, to bring all other moments to their ruinous truths. Suppose that…”

“That someone could contemplate the end of all things…”

“The end of all things…”

“Therefore, your absence, your silence, for all these years.”

“Precisely.”

“In other words, you do believe there was a first one to fight against fate itself, attempting to control all circumstances throughout our history. Nevertheless, what good would come of it, should it’s reasons be solely it’s own?”

“He who faces fate and rescinds to the heart of his own secrets might as well become fate. Foreseeing everything by his own power, free at last to live forever, to remain as others fall.”

“Or enslaved by his own sense of responsibility, doomed to try and trick Fortune in order to leave his legacy.”

“Yes….”

Surprise took Cato, suddenly. Not a common vista.

“You….”

“A glimpse, my friend. Of another, worry not. And the resolution…. How painful.”

“Are you to sacrifice yourself, then?”

“No. I adopted a riskier, yet more pragmatic, way out of my predicament.”

“Which is…?”

“Bringing fate itself into tomes of knowledge for the victim to find. In a very straightforward manner. No mysteries. Until the day we meet. Until the day it is safe to meet.”

“Is he one of us?”

“Yes. And of old blood, as well.”

“Why is he so relevant?”

“He might be a means to an end. Maybe more. As far as my sight leads me… He might well be the resolution for our deepest fears and doubts.”

“To uncover the end?”

“To uncover the end. The end of all things.”

== A THOUSAND NIGHTS ==

Night, high moon. The penthouse studio saw the silver light filling every inch of it’s manor-like interior, bathed in gradual pale touches as the steel blinds opened with a hum.

“You overslept, love….” – she said, as he pressed on the controls.

“I’ve earned it, dear Dejah.” – the blonde, pale man contemplated the white towers of this new-century Dubai, raging lights against a clear nocturnal sky.

“Do you remember the days of youth, lost so long ago, love?” – Dejah embraced the other one from behind, watching stars as they vanished behind the skyscrapers. A smile crossed the other one’s face.

“Yes, I do, geliebte. How we wandered, how we came to know intimately the myriads of light that measured our steps!”

“Do you miss it, love?”

He turned towards her, contemplative and soft in his manners. He was in love once more, as he had been a thousand nights before, for a thousand years.

“You know me very well…. I do. You know I do.”

Silence fell upon the couple.

“The Sheik enjoyed your observations. Jon is downstairs…. Feeding.” – another moment of silence.

“We should leave, Markus. Leave this place behind…. There is nothing for us here. Nothing. The sheik…”

“The sheik can’t protect us forever, I know. Nevertheless, he has something we still need.”

“There are other blood diviners around the world, Markus…”

“But only one to be called prince of Dubai, geliebte! I promise you, in due time…”

A shadow of resentment fell upon her face.

“In due time… What happened to the bold knight that defeated his assassin so many years ago?”

“He fell in love for his assassin… And he wishes for her to come to no harm…”

As he approached her, Dejah held a heavy disposition. Still accepting his caresses, her thoughts returned to the last contract she ever took under the banners of her bloodline, as well as her failure... Slowly, her body tensed, thinking about the future and what it had in store for them.

“What is it, Dejah?” – she could not escape his gaze. They never escaped each other.

For seconds, she hesitated, as if trying to find a way out of that conversation. They were tied together, he embraced her. By now, he could feel her subtle, distant trembling and apprehension. They never escaped each other… She rose her eyes towards him and saw only anticipation. He knew it already. No words were needed.

He smiled slowly, relief and satisfaction resting upon his visage.

“I knew it. Solomon’s treasures would buy Sheik Vathek’s cooperation! Now, where is it, my darling?”

“Somewhere in Vienna, my dear…” – her voice was heavy. Markus’ smile vanished slowly, but resolve did not leave him, she could see it.

“Vienna, of all places… I could not bring myself to call it home, but the harsh memories it holds make it appropriate… Soon, my love, soon...”

“We don’t have to do this….”

“The Champion of Blood guarantees your survival, my dear…. None of your fellow clansmen will dare approach you with ill intent once you hold it in your hands. We’ll be free, geliebte! We’ll roam the world once more, side by side… As you wished for so many years!”

“Only if you….. we…. Survive.”

His eyes shone moonlight as he rested them upon her visage. They were so impassionate about each other, a love beyond explanation or measure! A thousand nights, in a thousand years, and never an ounce of doubt!

“No peril is too great… As long as it gives you eternity.”

Ah, Fortune... Such misery as love can only be true as it unfolds its own tragedy…

Lords of the dead

2016-08-25T21:34:34Z

Archon Basileus:

Lords of the Dead is our home-made version of an elder Vampire game. We employ a mix of official-choice rules and some of our own. Below we present a description of PCs, NPCs, places of interest and setting details. Everything placed here is of an optional nature. Aspects of the game might change according to the player's particular choices and preferences.

== PCs ==

[[Samuz]]

== SETTING ==

In this version of the World of Darkness, several ancient secrets are accessible to the player characters, given their age and experience. The world has been deeply affected by supernatural presence, and mortal life is heavily influenced by dark plots and immortal needs. This is mostly apparent when mortal existence is confronted by the ever-growing concerns of neonates and ancillae, those who control directly the mundane ways of the world. But what about the truly ancient secrets of history? What about the Methuselahs and their titanic expectations?

Surely their own agendas would change the world in unpredictable and tremendous ways…
Many of the things we’re about to present are the result of centuries of hidden history, in which the most ancient and powerful creatures of darkness attempted to adapt to a reality far too frail and delicate to accommodate their conflicts and power games. Some represent the lost and hidden history of the supernatural races, others are simply the remnants of old experiments, others yet are novelties brought up by the awakening of the ancients. Most of them are fabled among younger and less experienced members of each race, spoken in hushed tones in courts around the globe. One thing they have in common, though: all of them belong to the collective unconsciousness that crowd men’s nightmares since the dawn of time.

== Ruins of The Second City ==

The second city, long gone to the other side of the Shroud, still sits on an island, guarded by enslaved souls and visited in nightmares by ancient vampires obsessed with the race’s origins. Even though the access has become more difficult since the gates of the Abyss have been broken, the city resists and the Tal’Mahe’Ra still thrives among the silent halls once inhabited by the so-called Third Generation.

== The Necropolis ==

Long ago, a conclave within a conclave of vampires decided to build a haven of cyclopean proportions somewhere in the Ural. Inspired by the power that ancient princes exerted upon mankind, these undead waged war against many nations, enslaving it’s citizens and taking them back.

Feeding them their own blood, the vampiric lords of the mountains ordered massive excavations and designed impossible feats of engineering and architecture. After two centuries of blood, violence and sacrifice, the Necropolis was erected, a testament to the old vampire cities of times past.

The Necropolis was kept secret throughout millennia by a system of political control and arcane rituals, much like those once met at Hunedoara Castle (It is believed that the spells employed in the Lair were semblances of more potent wards that protected the Necropolis). It is said that blood never went scarce within its’ halls and sun never shone within. Incantations guaranteed that only those blessed with vitae could see the seven gates (in mockery of sacred Thebes) that led to the city. Across the streets and galleries of the Undead City, immortals led courtesan lives and indulged in dark passions, plotting against each other and planning the fate of the world. Secessions happened as ages went by, to the point that many undead left the city, defeated, only to build newer versions of the legendary Undead City.
Nowadays, all factions claim presence and power within Necropolis’ courts. Originally it was ruled by an independent Consortium of undead merchants and schemers. As time passed, they became powerful enough to be considered an autonomous faction in and off themselves. Nevertheless, alliances were made and in the end factions placed permanent representatives within the Necropolis. When the Sabbat rose to power, it was received within the halls of the Undead City, side by side with the Camarilla. Nowadays, the factions share the same space under the rules of the Consortium. They are not allowed to attack each other. Still, the political strife between the two enemies continues to this day. Tal’Mahe’Ra representatives, as well as Inconnu and Cathayans, have been known to participate in necropolitan politics, amassing great numbers within its’ walls.

== Macabria ==

Known in myth and pop culture, Macabria received its’ place in mankind’s imagination on account of an old goth song signed by a famous 80’s rock band. The legend that spawned the ballad was far older, though, being mentioned in vampire lore and tomes for centuries, if not millennia.

Macabria is the Paradise Archetype for all vampires. It has received a visible presence among umbral realms at some point in history (no one knows exactly when), representing “the land of overflowing blood”, where “the red moon never fades, despite its’ phases” and “the Beast sides with intellect”. This dream of hunters has been described in many ways and given many identities. Some ascetic vampires, mostly spiritual thaumaturgy practitioners, say that they have achieved this plane of existence. Some describe it as a state of being (maybe under the influence of the concept of Golconda), while others consider it an entire separate world. Matching portraits present “rivers of flowing, warm blood”, “red flowers that sprout pleasure”, “temples where men, beasts and strangest creatures are available to satisfy every vampiric pleasure”. The details vary with the philosophical conceptions of each individual.
It is said that the so called Temple of Love, built within the Necropolis, was conceived from dreams that the architect dreamt within Macabria. Several other aspects of necropolitan architecture revisit the myth.

== The Solace of Reason ==

The Solace of Reason is an ancient monastery, dating back to the days of the first meditative hermits of Egypt. When the apprentices of Mark Apostle decided to take to the desert and reach illumination by contemplative exile, they were followed by a group of Capadocian ascetics with similar intent. These undead searched the dry vastness for years before settling down in a secluded chasm, under the deep shadows of ominous mounts. There they remained, hidden in silence for centuries, until one of them emerged from exile. She spoke of wonders and miracles amidst the distant sands, insisting she had found, along with her brethren, the most sacred of places, where temperance was the rule of a man’s heart and the beast was under sway. Allegedly, the chasm they had found was alive with the howl of the winds, and the groans they produced were able to convey distinct emotions according to the place one occupied within the perilous stretches of land between the rocks. One such spot allowed them to pacify the Beast, leading to an easier way of meditation and therefore to a shortcut to Golconda. So calming were the fresh waves that reached the chasm that all her companions had given into a sweet and long slumber. Only her had awakened, deciding to spread the word and bring others to such holy place of peace and enlightenment.

Soon many decided to follow her back. Centuries would pass once more before anything was heard from them once more. Again, she returned alone, claiming their newfound companions joined the others in rest and promising they would wake up once again In due time.
As soon as she decided to put together a new party to return to the chasm, a group of vampires sworn under the local Justicar decided to take action and investigate the place. Together, they convinced her they were seekers of Golconda. Twelve attempted to earn her trust.

Only five succeeded. As they followed her into the desert, apprehension fell upon all of the sworn.

Ages passed by as those who stayed behind tried to discover their destination. Unsuccessful, they never resigned, keeping their hopes up and patrolling the desert throughout hundreds of years.

Now, their faith and loyalty is to be finally rewarded. If the rumors are true, three elders appeared in the horizon and entered Cairo, speaking once more of salvation through the path to Golconda…

== LEGENDS ==

== Timeweavers ==

Cephalos entered the yard in silence. At least a decade had passed since last he stepped onto it to perform his rituals, a habit he kept, if only to remember how far he had gone since his embrace, ages before. Overtaken by tall grass and silence, it was in ruins. Once, long ago, this had been the place of his ancestors and his sons. Time would take everything from him, though, the price of blood paid in full. Cephalos reached for the almost unseen altar in the center, the pyre unlit and the stone unclean. He was to begin his prayer when he saw the tall figure coming from the shadows.

“Cato” – the old corpse said to the other. “Finished arguing with your son-in-law, I presume?”

The other one, stiff severe face of a roman, bowed his head as to recognize the jest.

No smile came out of him, though.

“Here we are, old friend.”

“Here we are.”

“Would you allow me to help? We share the same blood, after all.”

“Indeed. Brother and offspring, you are, good Cato.” – between the two of them, no sentiment rose. Only a subtle form of trust enticed the elders as they silently rose prayers at the ruined altar.”

After moments of silence, they gazed each other.

“How deed it strike you, Cephalos? Knowing for the first time you had the power to twist your fate…. Knowing you would be forever fated to contemplate their inevitable ends while you yourself struggled against our own determinist reality?”

“I believe it was the very last moment of my life that allowed me an overwhelming sense of fear… As if engulfed by fire, I rested my expectations entirely in the possibility of unveiling time itself, as the Fates would have, I’m sure, even before the oldest of gods. Nonetheless….”

“Nonetheless it is still uncertain, your fatal resolution, is it not, old friend?”

“In a way, yes. You do know what they say about our gift, do you not, Cato?”

“They say many things, Cephalos.”

“Many, for sure. One calls my attention, though. Perhaps the closest one to our experiences. Suppose we had the chance to muster all the strength of the blood in one epiphany, a single moment of universal realization, to bring all other moments to their ruinous truths. Suppose that…”

“That someone could contemplate the end of all things…”

“The end of all things…”

“Therefore, your absence, your silence, for all these years.”

“Precisely.”

“In other words, you do believe there was a first one to fight against fate itself, attempting to control all circumstances throughout our history. Nevertheless, what good would come of it, should it’s reasons be solely it’s own?”

“He who faces fate and rescinds to the heart of his own secrets might as well become fate. Foreseeing everything by his own power, free at last to live forever, to remain as others fall.”

“Or enslaved by his own sense of responsibility, doomed to try and trick Fortune in order to leave his legacy.”

“Yes….”

Surprise took Cato, suddenly. Not a common vista.

“You….”

“A glimpse, my friend. Of another, worry not. And the resolution…. How painful.”

“Are you to sacrifice yourself, then?”

“No. I adopted a riskier, yet more pragmatic, way out of my predicament.”

“Which is…?”

“Bringing fate itself into tomes of knowledge for the victim to find. In a very straightforward manner. No mysteries. Until the day we meet. Until the day it is safe to meet.”

“Is he one of us?”

“Yes. And of old blood, as well.”

“Why is he so relevant?”

“He might be a means to an end. Maybe more. As far as my sight leads me… He might well be the resolution for our deepest fears and doubts.”

“To uncover the end?”

“To uncover the end. The end of all things.”

Lords of the dead

2016-08-23T18:14:49Z

Archon Basileus:

Lords of the dead

2016-08-21T17:20:03Z

Archon Basileus: Created page with "Welcome to our wiki! This page is dedicated to the background material for the Elysium Chronicle named "Lords of the Dead". Enjoy!"

Welcome to our wiki! This page is dedicated to the background material for the Elysium Chronicle named "Lords of the Dead". Enjoy!