“Black friars in this life,
Fried black in the next.” – An observant poet
We are waiting for you. We will not come for you. You will come to us.
The bells of our ancient, cursed cloister will ring in your dreams, louder each night until you cannot sleep. Then you will hear them in the day, their ancient, rusty throats moaning, groaning, calling. You will not be able to work your foul magicks, nor will you be able to hear anything but the terrible tolling, tolling, tolling.
You will come to us.
We are here, as we have been for five centuries, in the crypts of St. Sepulchre. You will travel to our ancient, haunted city of London, find the tunnel beneath the Old Bailey, and descend behind the forgotten gate.
And there you will recieve your habit, your tonsure, and your eternal purpose. You will pray for the salvation of the souls of men. You will pray for the souls of other sorcerers who have comitted unspeakable acts. But you will not pray for your own soul.
It is too late for that.
I am about to run a game in London
(mainly to keep trigger happy pc’s at bay). I think this would a really good addition if you could only illaberate. If not i probably would be able to fill in the blanks.
(part 1 of 4)
Dear Strange:
The Friars of St. Sepulchre are a group of undead shadows who in life were unrepentant heretical monks, practicing magick (mostly old-fashioned hermetics and thaumaturgies.) They don’t practice magick now, having been tormented for 800 years by their guilt. They attempt to expiate their sin by drawing “warlocks” (read adepts) to them, and causing them to “repent” by draining them of all volition and making them into shades like themselves.
Entering a very small room in the crypt below the church takes the visitor into an impossibly vast network of underground tunnels, some of which exit in various dismal parts of London. One goes directly under the Criminal Court at the Old Bailey, and that tunnel has an especially hideous provenance (see The Bell of St. Sepulchre, below). However, most of the tunnels seem to wind on endlessly, opening only occassionally on barbarous chapels and cloisters, in which the Friars may still be encountered.
(part 2 of 4)
The reasons for entereing such a place must be puissant indeed, and they are. Rumors abound of ancient artifacts hidden in the crypts (for two possibilites, see below) and of caches of secret lore, hidden by the friars before their unknown apocalypse took them.
When the Friars are encountered in the barely illuminated labyrinth, they will appear to be nothing but black robes with voluminous hoods. A few carry lit candles that seem to give off very little light. They will take no notice of visitors, merely avoiding touching them, even in the narrowest corridors as they pass by. The discordant chanting that accompanies them can be heard throughout the tunnels. Any character with a relevant skill (Latin, Religion, Linguistics, Occultism) may attempt to understand the chants. With a successful roll, they will know that the chant is not of any faith with which they are familiar. With a successful roll greater than 30 they will know that the chant describes barbarous, foul and heretical beliefs (just understanding them is good for a level 2 unnatural check) and are continuing lamentations, begging forgiveness.
The Friars cannot be harmed by magick or mayhem. They are manifestations of ancient guilt and crime, and nothing more.
The means by which the Friars draw adepts to them is subtle, but effective. If an adept works a significant spell, or gains a significant charge within 500 meteres of the church, make a soul roll. If the charater makes the roll, nothing happens. If he fails it, he will hear a discordant chanting in his mind, stuck there like a catchy tune you can’t get rid of. This will annoy and distract the adept, costing him a -10% shift on any task requiring concentration. If the adept leaves the 500 metere radius, the chanting will fade in a few days. If he does not, he will find himself unconsciously walking toward the church, spending more time in its vicinity, even reading about it.
(part 3 of 4)
As he spends more time in the neighborhood, the chant will become even more distracting, causing the adept to suffer a -15% shift. He will cast about looking for something to make the relentless drone cease. Finally, he will notice that when he is inside the church, the chanting stops. While in the church, he will see a group of robed men standing near the gate to the crypt. Unless he makes a soul roll, he will follow them to the door of the crypt room, behind which, lies their damned friary.
Once the adpet enters the tunnels, he hears the chanting again, but it seems natural – he is not distracted by it, and begins to find it soothing. He may catch himself droning a few lines from it himself. But every ten minutes he remains in the labyrinth will have two profound effects on him. First, he will lose a charge. Roll the adept’s skill, if he succeeds, he loses a minor charge. If he fails, he loses a significant charge. Matches have no effect. Do not tell the player they are bleeding charges, since the chant’s anesthetic effect will conceal this fact from them.
When all the adept’s charges are gone, he begins losing soul points at the rate of 1d10 per 10 minutes. Tell the character only that he feels a peace coming upon him, a lack of guilt, and hope for his past misdeeds. His sins will parade before his memory’s eye, filling him with remorse. When his soul reaches 0, he will join one of the long processions of friars and take upon himself the penitent’s habit of St. Sepulchure. He will never return.
The key, of course, is to get away from the church, and to stay away. Of course their may be some reason that the character must return to the church’s neighborhood, or they may be drawn by the promise of mystic treasure. Either way, adepts are always in danger within the sound of Sepulchure’s bells.
(part 4 of 4)
The artifacts of St. Sepulchure
The Bell of St. Sepulchre
An actual, historical artifact, that holds a terrifying,
unsuspected secret.
The material between the brackets is true, taken from http://www.hiddenlondon.com/st_sepulchre.htm
Seen, but not touched! If this dire artifact is rung in the prescribed manner, and the rhyme is recited at midnight, all who hear its dreaded toll (with their own ears – broadcasting, recording, etc. will not work) will die the next day before noon, including the crier. The deaths will appear to be accidental but will all involve either drowning, a broken neck, or strangulation/choking. The only way to avoid this fate is to have the condemned formally pardoned by the rightful occupant of the English throne (currently Duke Francis of Bavaria, certainly NOT that Hanvoverian usurper on the throne today!)
If the Sleepers become aware of this one…right under their noses….
(part 5 of 4)
The Cask of St. Sepulchre
Copyright Advocatus
“If we drink, we will die,
If we don’t drink we will die.” – Cossack Drinking Song
In a forgotten basement below St. Sepulchre’s Church is a large, ancient wine cask with a corroded, antique silver tap. Rapping on the cask reveals that it is still two-thirds full. Moving it is a serious problem since it weighs around 500 pounds and is around six feet in diameter.
The wine is wonderful. Any oneophile tasting it will pronounce it as being of the highest quality. It is also exceptionally potent, both physically and metaphysically. The wine has double the normal impairment effect, (except for dipsomancers – more on this below) and will, impart a single minor dipsomantic charge to anyone whose impairment reaches -10.
This charge will allow even a non-adept to cast a dipsomantic formula spell, or even work minor improvised boozehound magic. At an impairment of -30 another minor charge will be gained, and at -60, a third. The imbiber cannot gain any further charges from the cask for seven full days, or until he has sobered up and participated SINCERELY, in an authentic Catholic or Orthodox communion. (He or she would have to be a committed, believing Christian for this to work.)
There are, of course, a few catches:
First, this thing won’t work for a boozehound. It won’t even get him drunk! The monastics who made this magic fountain dissaproved of gluttony.
Second, this is a taboo violation for any adept, and for most avatars, except, perhaps, the Fool.
Third, this thing gives a mean mystic hangover. No adept who drinks from the cask can retain charges of any kind for one full week, or until he has been to mass under the conditions cited above.
Fourth, if the cask is ever opened, the curious will find inside the dry mummified remains of three monks. Not a drop of wine will be found. Realizing that you’ve been drinking corpse renderings is going to call for a rank 8 Unnatural check – if you’re drunk on the cask at the time, a rank 10 check. Other checks may be called for at the Game Master’s discretion.
Lastly, this is a MAJOR artifact. Everybody is after it, especially a group of 500 year old monks with very dry mouths, a lot of mystic know-how and a very unchristian attitude.