TEXT:  
   
  
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  By Scott Cohen and Steven Michael DiPesa 
  
   
          Blood Treachery 
  2
  Credits 
  Authors: Scott Cohen and Steven Michael DiPesa 
  Development: Jess Heinig 
  Editing: Carl Bowen 
  Art Direction: Aileen Miles 
  Interior Art: Syrena Done, Langdon Foss, Eric Hotz, 
  Jeremy Jarvis 
  Cover Art: William O'Connor 
  Cover Design, Layout & Typesetting: Aileen E. Miles 
   Special Thanks To: 
  Charles "Dessicated Crack Baby" Bailey for his Avatar. 
  Scott's Thanks: To Stephen Geller, teacher, mentor,
  artist, magician, shaman and friend, for all the doors
  that you pointed out to me. 
  Steve's Thanks: To my Mom, who believed in me as
  much as she lamented my impracticality, both of which
  impelled me onward. 
  And to Trish, who has supported with words, faith, and
  the superhuman endurance required to put up with me. 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
          © 2000 White Wolf Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved. Reproduction without the written permission of the 
  publisher is expressly forbidden, except for the purposes of reviews, and for blank character sheets, which may be 
  reproduced for personal use only. White Wolf, Vampire the Masquerade, Vampire the Dark Ages, Mage the 
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  reserved. Werewolf the Apocalypse, Wraith the Oblivion, Changeling the Dreaming, Hunter the Reckoning, 
  Werewolf the Wild West, Mage the Sorcerers Crusade, Wraith the Great War, Trinity, Blood Treachery, Infernalism 
  the Path of Screams, The Book of Worlds, The Book of Madness, Clanbook Tremere and Tradition Book Order of 
  Hermes are trademarks of White Wolf Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved. All characters, names, places and text 
  herein are copyrighted by White Wolf Publishing, Inc. 
          Bonisagus, Diedne, Tytalus, Ex Miscellanea, Criamon and Quaesitoris are trademarks of Atlas Games, are from 
  the Ars Magica game, and are used with permission. Ars Magica is a trademark of Atlas Games. 
          The mention of or reference to any company or product in these pages is not a challenge to the trademark or 
  copyright concerned. 
          This book uses the supernatural for settings, characters and themes. All mystical and supernatural elements are 
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          PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
  
   
  Contents        3 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  Contents 
  Prelude: Enthralled  
  4
  Introduction 
  12
  ACT One: WIZARDS' MARCH  
  16
  ACT TWO: HIDDEN WAR  
  28
  ACT THREE: BLOOD TREACHERY  
  42
  ACT FOUR: PAWNS AND BISHOPS  
  56
  APPENDIX: THE BLOOD CURSE  
  72
   
  
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  
   
  Prelude: Enthralled        5 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  Prelude: 
  Enthralled 
   
   
   
   
  Now, now however accidents have begun. Like the first faint Twirls of smoke 
  we see all the old signals: cloudy air, a swarming As if in frantic haste 
  against the great thinning to come, those whiffs Of the monitor's breath, the 
  shadow which trailed our father from The halls of his brothers, the judas, the 
  cain, the great opposing whisper force to matter itself, the challenge to the 
  magician's act, the rage 
  TO PROVE IT WAS, IS, ALL DONE BY MIRRORS. 
  — the Archangel Michael, as recorded by James Merrill in The Changing 
  Light at Sandover 
   
   
  The hunger was everywhere and nowhere at once, not centered on his stomach, 
  but rather a fevered, twisting nausea that screamed from every cell. It was 
  nothing but absolute desire and necessity. The drive was over- whelming, and it 
  was all Kurlzweil could do to keep his sanity. He wanted to scream, he wanted 
  it more than anything in the world — simply to let the monstrous thoughts that 
  plagued him out, get them out, get them out! 
       A thin, reddish sheen of sweat coaled his body as he stumbled toward the 
  bathroom. He splashed water on his face, drank from the faucet—  
  No, it's not the right liquid. 
  
   
  6        Blood Treachery 
  —and looked in the mirror. His face was flush and gaunt at the same rime. The eyes 
  seemed different somehow. They were weak; more needy. He looked like a giant that 
  was about to crumble. The faint outline of his Avatar, reflected in the mirror, looked 
  thinner, less substantial. Her while dress seemed tinged pink. He could hear her voice in 
  his head. 
  I want more. 
  He tried to steel himself. No more, it has to end, it has to stop. 
  MORE. NOW. 
  The imagery — the blood in a vial, swirling around, slow-motion vision where the 
  crest of the edge of the blood beckons like a lighthouse — assaulted Kurlzweil, kicking 
  him in the back of the knees. He fell to the floor, unable to think of anything but the 
  blood, the blood, the blood! 
  lam a magus of the Order of Hermes, he thought as he tried to get on his feel. lam a 
  Tytalan. lean overcome any obstacle. My will is indomitable. Reality bows to my 
  command. Through strife, power. Through strife, power. Power, damn it, POWER! 
  • • • 
  The memory comes back unbidden, engulfing him and obliterating the present. 
  "It is vampire blood," Marcus says with his characteristic detachment. They are in 
  his Sanctum — Marcus and he — and Marcus holds a vial of reddish-brown liquid 
  between thumb and forefinger. Even with his rudimentary training in the Ars Vis, 
  Kurtzweil can sense the Quintessence in the vial. It looks like rubies, glistening within 
  the fluid matrix. 
  '"Where did you gel it?" 
  "It was given to me by one of them." 
  Kurlzweil looks at Marcus in shock. "Given?" 
  Marcus allows a faint smile, "In exchange for certain tactical information." 
  Kurlzweil's face flushes with anger, but before he can say anything, Marcus con-
  tinues. "Please, Johann, let me explain my position. You will call me a traitor to the 
  Order, but look at the situation. The Order is almost destroyed. This war against the 
  undead is a last-ditch effort to try to reclaim some sense of glory. "While the other 
  houses may be content to throw themselves off the cliff, House Ty talus is not. "We 
  need to survive this, Kurlzweil. The greatest challenge" — here the smile widens into a 
  smirk — "our house will ever face." 
  "But the old House Tremere— 
  '"What crime did it commit, Kurlzweil? It survived. It saw an opportunity and look 
  it. Granted, that opportunity backfired, but we've learned from that lesson." Marcus 
  gestures with the vial, and Kurlzweil's eyes follow it involuntarily. "This is foolproof. 
  This is power, concentrated into easy-lo-drink form. We cut a deal with the undead 
  warlocks — we give them some information, they give us blood. "We lake control of 
  the Order, we slop the war, and we gel access to the vampire sorcerers' libraries and all 
  the old lexis. Mission accomplished." Marcus offers the vial to Kurlzweil, and 
  Kurlzweil cannot help but accept it. 
   
  
   
   Prelude: Enthralled        7 
   
  "We trust you, Kurlzweil. We need your strength, your insight, your magic. We — 
  and there are quite a few of us — we want you to have this gift. We need you to join 
  us." 
  Kurlzweil considers the vial, then pops the lop off. "Just drink it?" 
  Marcus nods. The smell is simultaneously repulsive and tempting. Kurlzweil lifts 
  the vial up in a toast. "Ave Tylalus." 
  "With a gulp, the blood runs down his throat — The blood is in me, lean feel it - in 
  an ecstasy unlike any other. His Avatar expands with power. The power courses 
  through him, the strength multiplies, his mind... 
  • • • 
  He wept, and that forgotten taste filled his mouth. It was not just blood, but the taste 
  of power, dark murderous power over life itself, as if he were the judge, holding the 
  scales and deciding what would live and what would die. Now it was gone and out of 
  his system. The murder needed to be replenished. 
  Please, MORE... 
  '"What do you want of me?" he screamed at her. "What the hell do you want me to 
  do?" 
  I want MORE. I need more. 
  "No, I can't, it's changing me. It's changing us..." 
  Of course it's changing us. It's the power. You can feel it. This is what you have 
  always wanted, isn't it? This is what you have craved. You know the power of the blood. 
  As do I. As does everyone else who has tasted it. 
  A red-linked teardrop rolled off his cheek and landed in the sink. Kurlzweil just 
  stared at it, watching it trickle down toward the drain. How much blood had he 
  consumed that it now leaked out with his tears? 
  It is beyond us, this power, and yet we have harnessed it. What else could we want? 
  The essence of a god runs through our veins now. We are one step closer to Ascension, 
  you and I. 
  He slopped to consider it. Ascension? It was a magic "Word that brought the color 
  back to his cheeks. He had felt the ancient power of the blood from the start. He had 
  never pieced together, though, that this act was at least semi-divine. This blood was 
  descended from a being that could rival the Celeslines themselves. Was such a thing 
  possible? 
  You know. You sense the truth of it. 
  The more he thought about it, the more Kurlzweil realized that this was simply 
  another challenge. Could he handle the power of a god?                  , 
  You can. Your will be done. 
  Kurlzweil pulled himself up. He straightened up, wiped his eyes, and began a 
  breathing exercise. He emptied his mind until one thought came unbidden: 
  Through strife, power. 
  • • •
  
   
  8         Blood Treachery 
   
   
  "The warding on this place is nuts to 
  the extreme," said Wendy Milne, bani 
  Thig. She hunched over her bizarre laptop 
  computer, watching Enochian sigils dance 
  across the screen, over the image of the 
  mansion 
  that 
  also 
  loomed 
  in 
  the 
  background. "I'd say they're warded 
  against spirits, scrying and Ars Mentis. 
  There's some sort of bizarre Life warding 
  as well." 
  "Can you gel through it?" Kurlzweil 
  asked, fists clenched in his jacket pockets. 
  "Half a second... Okay, the best I can 
  gel is a faint Life reading. I'm showing 
  about 15, er, signatures, consistent with 
  those of vampires. Not counting whatever 
  that thing on thereof is." 
  '"We've scoped it out," Ayara said. 
  Behind her, the members of the Flambeau 
  strike team stood, waiting like hawks for 
  the moment when they could unleash their 
  aggressions. 
  "Some 
  sort 
  of 
  strange 
  massasa, with a composition like stone. If 
  I didn't know better, I'd call it a gargoyle." 
  "Is your team ready?" 
  "We just have to warm up, and we'll 
  be set." 
  "Go. "We launch in 15 minutes." 
  The team fathered around Ayara and 
  began a Kabbalislic exercise. "Wendy 
  began running base-level algorithms, 
  trying to contact the glass and electricity 
  elementals within the vampires' haven. It 
  was all going according to plan. The 
  Verbena coven in Salem had been warned 
  of 
  the 
  imminent 
  assault 
  on 
  the 
  bloodsuckers, and the witches were 
  available if the team had casualties. 
  Kurtzweil's team, all highly             trained 
  assistants, would back up the Flambeau 
  frontal assault, taking out the vampires 
  
   
   Prelude: Enthralled        9 
  from a distance. The Hermetics had discovered that bullets were reasonably effective 
  against the undead — less so than against humans, but far from useless. Meanwhile, 
  "Wendy would run surveillance and try "alternative" tactics that the undead would 
  never anticipate. It was flawless. 
  Chris, the Forlunae, approached Kurlzweil. "There's something wrong with this 
  situation." 
  "What are you talking about?" 
  "I don't know, but I feel probability slacking against us." 
  Kurlzweil snorted. "Then change it. Thai's your job, isn't it?" 
  Chris didn't lake the bail. "The waveform is off. There are too many unknown 
  variables to compute. I can estimate to compensate for the unknowns, but there's 
  something else affecting the equation, some huge possibility that will severely impact 
  the odds for success." 
  "Well, we'll be on guard for it once we're inside," Kurlzweil said with a gesture of 
  dismissal. 
  "Kurlzweil, we don't know what's going on!" 
  Kurlzweil turned to face Chris, his face a mask of anger." You are not the one going 
  in there, Forlunae! Tour duty is to ensure that fortune is on our side! Are you shirking 
  your duty?" 
  "What? No!" 
  "Then what is it?" The other mages stood by watching the show. "You're still a 
  Hermetic, regardless of what house you joined, and we do not bow to anything, 
  especially the whims of fortune! "We create fortune, do you understand?" 
  "But... but..." 
  "Now remove that block so we can begin!" 
  Kurlzweil stormed off, suppressing a chuckle. A classic Tylalan rant, sure to leave 
  everyone intimidated and ready to follow him. He knew what the block was. After all, it 
  was he who informed the Tremere of their attack. After a brief flurry, the Hermelics 
  would pull back, left to ponder the worth of a continued war against the massasa. 
  Tytalus would take control of the Council on these doubts, get their books and blood, 
  and refocus on the Technocracy. 
  Like clockwork. 
   
  • • • 
   
  The first explosion look off the doors of the mansion. The second one blew a hole 
  in the roof. 
  The Flambeau team stormed in, guns at the ready. They were ordered not to rely on 
  magic, but that order could go out the window at any time. Kurlzweil and his team 
  followed them in. 
   
   
   
  
   
  10        Blood Treachery 
   
  Instantly, a telekinetic blast hit the entire group, knocking everyone to the ground. 
  The Flambeau opened fire on the hapless figure gesturing on the stairwell. Some of the 
  bullets swerved to avoid him. Enough bullets hit, and the vampire fell, gurgling blood. 
  The team advanced, but Kurtzweil hesitated a second, staring at the blood 
  The blood, it is yours. 
  Kurlzweil shook himself out of it and headed into the main hall of the mansion. The 
  teams spread out beneath an onslaught of blood magic. Vampires moved everywhere, 
  shooting, throwing fireballs, creating lightning. 
  One of the Flambeau suddenly jerked. From his mouth, a shining stream of blood 
  erupted and flew toward one of the vampires. The Flambeau fell, dead and desiccated. 
  Kurtzweil hesitated for a second, and a bullet caught him in the shoulder. He went 
  down, stunned and disbelieving: 
  They're trying to kill all of us! This is for real! 
  "Pull back! Pull back!" 
  Ayara didn't hear. She stood up, shouting an Enochian spell. It was a standard Ignis 
  conjuration. Not only was it vulgar, it was one of the main spells that had been erring. 
  Kurtzweil braced himself for a Paradox Backlash, thinking this was a horrible way to 
  die. 
  The spell went off. The fire elemental erupted and went wild, engulfing several 
  people. The other Flambeau, buoyed by the success of the Effect, started spreading out. 
  One of Kurtzweil's men erupted into blood, falling. 
  Blood, blood every where, and not a drop to drink. 
  Kurlzweil spun, sprouting claws as he tore into the stomach of a servitor ap-
  proaching from behind. As the vampire minion fell, Kurtzweil saw his hand coated in 
  blood, coaled in - 
  The roof crashed as a nine-foot-tall monstrosity of living stone, badly burnt, fell to 
  the floor. A few troops finished the creature off. Suddenly, two of Kurlzweil's men 
  struggled inside a cube of water, drowning in a surreal prison. 
  Kurtzweil scanned the room, reaching out to the minds in the building, looking for... 
  Him. The vampire in charge. Their eyes met, and the warlock ran. Kurlzweil waded 
  after him through the carnage. The vampire ducked down a stairwell. Kurlzweil readied 
  his shotgun, turned the corner, and barely had time to see the library he'd entered when 
  a cold, dead hand grasped his arm and his blood began to boil. 
  Screaming from the agony, Kurlzweil could not feel his arm rise and level the 
  shotgun at the vampire. A deafening roar overlook him, and he was on the ground, in 
  pain, singed from powder burns. He looked up, and most of the vampire's left shoulder 
  was missing. Shocked, the undead thing tried to crawl away as its useless arm twitched 
  on floor and crumbled into dust. 
   
   
   
  
   
   Prelude: Enthralled        11 
  Kurlzweil propped himself up on the shotgun and slavered toward the vampire. He 
  leveled the shotgun at the vampire's head when he heard it mutter something. It was 
  Enochian. 
  "Gods, protect me... gods, protect me..." 
  Kurlzweil flipped the vampire over. The shoulder was already knitting itself. '"Who 
  are you?" he demanded. 
  The vampire was barely conscious. "Cordovera... bani... bani Ex Miscellanea..." 
  Kurlzweil stood frozen, stunned for a moment. Then, his face twisting in rage, the 
  Hermetic hammered away on the vampire's head with the butt of the shotgun until the 
  monster lay still. The vampire didn't collapse into dust, which was good — Kurtzweil 
  had quite a few questions to ask him. 
  "Kurlzweil."                                                                     
  He spun, aiming the shotgun at a bloodied Ayara. 
  "Jesus, Ayara..." 
  "The place is secure. All resistance has been neutralized. "We can start searching 
  for the goodies now." 
  Kurlzweil saw that her right hand was missing. He forced himself not to notice. 
  "What are our losses?" 
  "Three magi, seven custos. We have quite a few wounded, but the Verbena will lake 
  care of that." 
  "Get them to the coven, then. Take Chris with you. Call in the Bonisagi, they'll 
  want to go over this place with a fine-toothed comb. "Wendy and I will head back to the 
  Chantry." He pointed at the vampire on the ground. '"We have a prisoner to take with 
  us." 
  "A prisoner? I thought this was a sweep-and-clear." 
  "This one's special. He might have some information that could help us." 
  "Hey, it's your show. I'll round everyone up and head out." 
  As Ayara walked out of the room, Kurlzweil focused his breathing, forcing himself 
  to consider the situation. It was nearly a catastrophe, an utter failure. Either these 
  warlocks didn't know it was supposed to be a show, or there was a deliberate double-
  cross on their part. Regardless, this vampire — this poor fucking Ex Miscellanea — 
  would provide the answers. 
  He found himself staring into a pool of blood that was coagulating on the hardwood 
  floor. "Without thinking, Kurlzweil kneeled down, dipped a finger into the pool and 
  lasted it. He reveled in the rush, the tingle on his tongue, the power that coursed through 
  him. 
  Ecstasy was matched by self-loathing as he realized what was happening. 
  I am sending people to their deaths for this blood. Not for the Order; not for 
  Tytalus. I do this for the blood of a vampire. 
  Kurlzweil forced himself to his feel and ran up the stairs, away from his negation. 
  
   
   
    
  
   
  Introduction        13 
   
   
   
   
  Whoever delves into mysticism cannot help but stumble, as it 
  is written: "This stumbling block is in your hand." You cannot 
  grasp those things unless you stumble over them. 
  — The Sefer ha-Bahir 
   
   
   
  Tremere. 
  To most mages, the word means noth-
  ing. Those who study the more obscure 
  secrets might learn that some vampires 
  call themselves by that name, but most 
  researchers are discouraged from follow-
  ing that path. To the Order of Hermes, 
  however, the Tremere are a stain, an em-
  barrassment and the shadow that follows 
  every ambitious mage in his quest for 
  Ascension. That group is the albatross that has hung 
  around the neck of the Order for the past 800 years. 
   
  Once, the Order and its exiled, undead cousins 
  warred openly. The consequences of the war were 
  devastating for both sides. Since then, the skirmishes 
  have been few and far between, with each side wary of 
  the other. As both looked to other concerns, the battle 
  subsided. The Order focused on the Traditions and the 
  Ascension War; House Tremere disappeared into the 
  mists of history. 
  Now, however, Fortune conspires in these Final 
  Nights to throw the ancient adversaries together again. 
   
   
  
   
  14        Blood Treachery 
  LET Slip The DOGS OF War 
  Welcome to Blood Treachery, the story of the Order 
  of Hermes in the Final Nights. This book is intended as a 
  supplement to the revised edition of Mage: The 
  Ascension. In the twilight of the World of Darkness, the 
  shadow of the Final Nights falls over everyone, and the 
  vaunted Order of Hermes reaps the consequences of its 
  past hubris. 
  The main portion of the book deals with the renewed 
  war between the Order of Hermes and the Tremere. For 
  too long, the rivalry between the two factions simmered. 
  Now, the war has begun anew, and the consequences for 
  the Hermetics are in your hands. 
   
   
  WHAT You Don'T KNOW 
  WILL KILL You 
  Experienced Vampire players will probably gawk 
  with disbelief at some of the deliberate misinformation 
  in this book. Most of the information that the Hermetics 
  have is wildly inaccurate, based "on folk legends, 
  hopelessly out-of-date or specific to some particular 
  vampire. Also, keep in mind that everything in Mage 
  comes from a wildly subjective viewpoint; there is no 
  one "truth." It makes perfect sense to a Hermetic that the 
  descendants of the Dark Ages' Tremere are in control of 
  all the world's vampires. After all, they're former 
  Hermetics, aren't they? 
  But doesn't the Order have a ton of information on 
  the massasa? Sure it does, but locating that information 
  is another matter entirely. Doissetep and its libraries 
  blew up. Horizon's libraries are huge. Almost all the files 
  the Order has on vampires are either in the hands of 
  eccentric Bonisagi, destroyed, missing, lost or on loan. 
  The rest have been "appropriated" by House Tytalus. 
  Many files are just plain wrong. Getting access to any 
  surviving files on vampire| requires an extended research 
  task, plenty of in-game time and a lot of patience. Mages 
  aren't always the most organized people. Indeed, a quest 
  to recover files about vampires might make a subplot on 
  its own. 
  The point is that just because you've read Vampire 
  backward and forward doesn't mean your characters 
  have. In order to get into character, you have to be 
  willfully ignorant about vampires. Forget what you 
  know and dive into the unknown. Bringing your out-of-
  game rules knowledge into a chronicle will only ruin the 
  fun for you. 
   
   
  This book is more than a simple Mage/Vampire 
  crossover, however. It is about how the Order — and the 
  Traditions — can renew themselves in the World of 
  Darkness. For too long, stasis has replaced innovation, 
  wounds have festered without healing, and dead weight 
  drags the Traditions down into the mire. These three 
  factors are the sparks that re-ignite the 800-year-old 
  conflict between mage and massasa. 
  The aftermath is up to you. Will the Order emerge 
  from the ashes, newborn, or is this act the final mistake, 
  the tragic coda to a flawed and dead system of belief? 
   
  DISCLAIMER FOR ANGRY GAMERS 
  Blood Treachery charges forward with some heavy 
  developments. The Order of Hermes, already weakened 
  by the Reckoning, finds itself thrust into a conflict from 
  which it might not survive. Such is the pitfall of pride. 
  However, there are always a few people who don't 
  like the story, don't want to fit it into their games or just 
  feel that it doesn't work for them. Players and Storytell-
  ers alike from this camp will decry the latest 
  developments, screaming that this or that completely 
  ruins their game. To which we say, "Ignore it." If you 
  have a better idea for a Tradition-vampire war, that's 
  cool. If you don't want to run with the Final Nights plot, 
  that's cool. If you just want to use this book as a resource 
  for a crossover game, that's cool. If you want nothing to 
  do with vampires at all and are simply looking for new 
  Hermetic spells, that's cool. 
  Even though this book is "canon," you can still 
  change anything in here at will. You certainly don't have 
  to change every aspect of your current chronicle to 
  adjust to it. Go nuts. Have a blast. Remember, the idea of 
  playing roleplaying games is to have fun, not to follow 
  slavishly every word the developer says. This story is 
  "official," but it doesn't have to supplant your story. 
  Take from this book what you will, and use it in good 
  health. If something doesn't jive with you, junk it. 
   
  THE ORDER OF THE DAY 
  Blood Treachery may not be what you expect — a 
  tale of tragedy, told through the eyes of the Order of 
  Hermes. It's a play, a drama in which well-meaning 
  would-be heroes are ground to dust by their own faults 
  along with their allies, both good and bad. These things 
  happen in a war. 
  More  importantly,  Blood  Treachery  is  a warning 
  to  mages  against  the  pitfalls  of  rashness,  toryism and 
   
   
   
  
   
   Introduction        15 
  hubris. If you don't want to use the story as told in Blood 
  Treachery, use it as a model of things that could go 
  wrong for any Tradition. 
  Act One: Wizards' March details the circumstances 
  that lead up to the renewed war against the massasa: the 
  frustration, the panic, the intrigue and the declaration. 
  Act Two: Hidden War details the specifics of the 
  war: battles, retaliation, mistakes and the eventual 
  stagnation as the Hermetics find themselves in over their 
  heads. 
  Act Three: Blood Treachery focuses on one Hermetic 
  house that refuses to submit to either side and grabs for 
  control — with disastrous consequences. 
  Act Four: Pawns and Bishops explains the position 
  of the Order of Hermes — and the Traditions in general 
  — in the Final Nights, the desperate actions of 
  Traditions struggling against Armageddon and how they 
  must adapt to survive. 
  Appendix: The Blood Curse gives rules for ghoul 
  mages, a few ways to wing it with Mage/Vampire rules 
  systems, some Hermetic High Umbrood who might be 
  interested in these goings-on and Effects old and new. 
   
   
   
  
   
   
   
   
  
   
   Act One: Wizards' March        17 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  DRAMATIS Personae 
  Marcus De Allegresse, Master of the Ars Mentis, bani Tytalus — The Tower 
  Johann Kurtzweil, bani Tytalus — The Hanged Man 
  Augustus Pembroke, bani Tytalus — Judgment 
  Ingmar Strohmann, bani Bonisagus — Strength 
  Ishaq Ibn-Thoth, Primus of House Quaesitor — Justice 
  Jeremy Chastam, bani Quaesitor — Temperance 
  Sharad Osei, would-be Primus of House Thig — The Star 
  Lord Edward Gilmore, Deacon Primus of Mus, in exile — The Emperor 
  Nicodemus Mulhouse, Chief Archivist of Horizon — The Fool 
  Sophia Chevallier, bani Tytalus — The Empress 
  Various mages, vampires, ghouls, custos, and others 
  Tremere — The Devil 
  The Oracles of the Nine Sacred Emanations of The One — The World 
  The Cabal of Bright Wisdom: 
  Rebecca Mitsotakai, bani Fortunae — The Wheel of Fortune 
  Josiah Lamb, bani Ex Miscellanea — The Sun 
  Edward Grey, bani Bonisagus — The Magician 
  Aurelien Archambeau, bani Solificatus — The Lovers 
  Paul Corbin, bani Flambeau — The Chariot 
  
   
   Act One: Wizards' March        18 
  INVOCATION: 
  SHADOWS OF The Past 
  The solar system. In the center, the Earth, The 
  ORACLES, one for each Sphere, stand at their places on 
  the appropriate planet. CONNECTION stands on Mercury, 
  LIFE stands on Venus, PRIME stands on Earth's moon, 
  FORCES stands on Mars, MATTER stands on Jupiter, 
  TIME stands on Saturn, SPIRIT stands on Uranus, MIND 
  stands on Neptune, and ENTROPY stands on Pluto. While 
  each of the ORACLES is robed in appropriate garments, 
  none of their faces are visible behind blue masks. 
  ORACLES: (together) Hail, O Fortunes and Fates, 
  attend! Hail, Fellow Elements, attend! By the Glory of the 
  Creator, attend! Hear our words and know their truth. 
  Know that we keep this record for the One, of which we are 
  now cousins, for it is ordained that there must be an 
  accounting of what here transpires. Such is our station, and 
  we shall not neglect our duty. Hail! 
  CONNECTION: There, below us, the stage beck-ons, 
  the brilliant blue-green orb, our former home. Father Sun 
  watches from a distance, wanting to help his children but 
  cowed, abashed as they grow proud and neglect him. Sister 
  Moon vies for their attention, but they tread upon her flesh 
  and say she is nothing now, merely a rock in a void. 
  LIFE: And poor, angry Mother Earth afflicts her 
  wayward children with her rage, as earthquake, volcano, 
  flood and typhoon try to stem the tide of expansion, to send 
  a message to these proud monkeys. The message is clear 
  from my vantage: You are swarming over me, and I can no 
  longer nurture all of you. 
  PRIME: Here is the stage, and on it? The players, 
  mortal and Awakened, some of whom try to make sense of 
  it. Most just swim blindly in the fog of ignorance, of 
  unbelief, and the Sleep of Ages threatens to extinguish the 
  light of knowledge forever. Magic is sluggish, slowing, 
  mired in the mud as reality becomes more and more 
  exhausted. Soon, I fear, all motion will cease. Soon, the 
  tired and worn-out Tellurian will collapse and end. 
  ENTROPY: And from above, that red eye, counter to 
  Father Sun, watches and waits for something. 
  FORCES: But I see before me with my newfound 
  sense another act unfolding. I see those I loved and gave 
  my life for, gathering one more time before the coming 
  onslaught. 
   
  PROLOGUE: 
  ENTER THE PLAYERS 
  TIME: Here is the script, as a Tapestry of all events, 
  past, present and future, all of space-time united in an 
  Einsteinian sphere for anyone to read. Entering stage right,  
   
   
  the venerable and indomitable Houses of Hermes stand on 
  unstable ground. Venerable, certainly — they trace their 
  heritage to the dawn of civilization. Indomitable, however 
  — surely only Sister Entropy could answer why Fate has 
  dealt them such crippling blows. Perhaps, however, the 
  answer is more obvious than anyone will admit. 
  Once they reigned supreme over Europe. The High 
  Mythic Age was one of terrible grandeur, when the will of 
  magi literally shook the Earth. The Houses of Hermes came 
  together to guard the sacred knowledge they had acquired, 
  for the enemies of the Art -- the pagan hordes, the zealous 
  priests and the monsters watching from the shadows — 
  were numerous. Alone, the houses were targets; united, 
  they created the dominant magic of Europe for over six 
  centuries. 
  As FORCES recites their names, the Primi of the 
  Houses of Hermes enter wearing purple masks. 
  FORCES: Look, here comes Bonisagus, books bris-
  tling with wisdom! Ah, proud Tytalus, stalwart against all 
  opposition. Jerbiton, surveying the scene, taking it in, as 
  Guemicus weighs the options. Fair Diedne, dancing with 
  dreams, and Criamon, dark-eyed visionary from the East. 
  And there is Flambeau, laying to waste the enemies of the 
  Order! Mercere, quick as death, uniting the houses! 
  Verditus, cunning crafter of wondrous Treasures! And... 
  Well, who is this? A magus, shorter in stature than his 
  brethren, not as powerful in the Art, yet with a cunning and 
  savvy that his fellow magi have not cultivated. The other 
  magi look at him and scoff, for he appears to be the 
  weakest of the Primi. And yet Tremere, poor, pitiable 
  Tremere, holds nothing in his heart but ambition and 
  patience. 
  MIND: I wonder. Did the other magi never see the 
  deception? Did they not discern the godlike ego that lay 
  behind that placid mask? Perhaps. Or perhaps they 
  recognized something of themselves in Tremere -something 
  that they could never acknowledge — and they shunned 
  him for it. 
  Regardless, the treachery is carried out. Poisonous 
  Tremere tricks Guernicus into sanctioning death for the 
  Diedne. Tremere takes what he needs and begins his 
  transformation. He has felt the decline of magic; he knows 
  the constriction that waits on the horizon. He sacrifices his 
  soul for immortality, power and an escape from the fate he 
  is certain will engulf the Order. And finally, along with his 
  seven closest disciples, he becomes undead. Massasa. 
  Vampire. 
  TREMERE's mask turns blood red. 
  ENTROPY:  Did  the  other  magi  know that this 
  would be their undoing? Did the houses — or Tremere 
  himself —  know what downfall  this  simple,  defining  act  
   
   
  
   
   Act One: Wizards' March        19 
  would cause? For it was a century-long war against the 
  rogue House Tremere that depleted the Hermetic Quin-
  tessence stockpiles, killed scores of magi and distracted 
  them from their duties as guardians of the Sleepers and 
  keepers of wisdom. This distraction cost them dearly, for 
  when the Craftmasons took Mistridge, the Order had no 
  response. The magi could not see the implications of such 
  an act, so focused on revenge were they. 
  FORCES: Thus the fall. History turns a page, and 
  suddenly the world belongs to Science. The tragic flaw of 
  the Order of Hermes is that it is always fighting the wrong 
  battle. The Primi bury their heads in books, too proud to 
  concern themselves with petty affairs like the fall of their 
  empire. 
  MATTER: The centuries following see the Artisan 
  taking center stage. Now the magi are antagonists, fighting 
  a losing war against an inevitable enemy. Soon they aren't 
  even the enemy any more. They are relegated to a lesser 
  role as merely one of nine deluded Traditions fighting the 
  monolithic inevitability of the new Science. The magi burn 
  with resentment — and Paradox — as they are reminded, 
  over and over, that they were once kings. Some fancy 
  themselves leaders in exile, soon to return to their rightful 
  station. But everywhere, the crushing weight of stone and 
  chains of cold iron encircles everything, squeezing the life 
  from the Earth. 
  SPIRIT: Yes, the Hermetic philosophy survives, and it 
  occasionally breaks into this new Tapestry the Technocracy 
  has woven. Nothing is ever truly lost, after all. But now, as 
  before, the knowledge is hidden, and only a select few have 
  the patience, wisdom and intelligence to unearth it. And 
  fewer still have the courage to bring the light back into the 
  darkness, that the world might shine again. 
  And all through the long sleep of wisdom, the last 
  survivors of House Tremere thrive in the darkness. I can 
  see their poisoned souls multiplying, planning for the Fall. 
   
  THE STAGE IS SET 
  FORCES: Now the Order is closer to destruction than it 
  has ever been. Mus, Doissetep, the disappearance of the 
  most powerful magi... if things continue as they are, the 
  light of knowledge and wonder will disappear from the 
  world once and for all. The play will, indeed, become a 
  tragedy. 
  ENTROPY: But endings are never written. And things 
  never continue as they are. 
  TIME: The catalyst, once again, will be that crafty 
  Archmagus Tremere, the Order's shadow of the past, the 
  other snake on the caduceus, the constant reminder of a 
  mage's failure. 
  FORCES: Come now. The play begins. 
  The ORACLES descend to Earth. 
   
   
  The Status OF The HOUSES OF HERMES 
   
  A lot has changed since the old days of the Order oh 
  Hermes. With Doissetep destroyed, several major mages 
  dead and the tightening of magic around the world, the 
  Order has been shaken to its foundations, How the 
  individual houses have dealt with the chaos ranges from 
  outright terror to wonder at the possibilities of new 
  beginnings. 
  Bonisagus — Since the deaths of the Fraternal 
  Society of Bonisagus,  individual Bonisagi have 
  emerged from their myriad hiding spaces throughout the 
  Tellurian to try and save the day. The theories they 
  propose range from the sublime to the ridiculous. 
  However, the desperate infusion of new ideas is 
  fundamentally disconnected from reality, considering the 
  isolation for which the scholars of this house are famous. 
  A   new  movement   among  the  Bonisagi  proposes 
  a new vector for the house. Composed mostly of 
  younger Bonisagi, this movement disdains the "solitary 
  wizard"  stereotype  and  instead  calls  for  a  more 
  active  role  in  the  Order — including the pursuit of 
  new  lines  of  research.    They  have  made  overtures to 
   House Thig in the hopes of gaining new perspectives on 
  old techniques. Perhaps a mixture of old ideas and new 
  practices can counteract the situation at hand. 
  Ex Miscellanea — Trying to get a unified front from 
  the Hodge-Podge is an impossible task. After all, there's 
  a reason they're called the Hodge-Podge. However, the 
  mages of Ex Miscellanea have begun reexamining their 
  role as a housfe. First of all, the near-collapse of the 
  political structure has prompted many of them to wonder 
  — loudly — what role the house will play in rebuilding 
  the Order. Second, mages who wouldn't deign to speak 
  to one of them before are sheepishly asking for advice 
  now that "proper" formulae are proving less successful. 
  Ex Miscellanea is now basking in the prestige of its 
  fellows and wondering how best to handle it. 
  The only members of the house who aren't enjoying 
  the  limelight  are  the Criamon.  Ever since July of 
  1999, the  remaining  members  of  this  once-strong  
  house have been  going  insane.  A  few have  recovered, 
  but   many    more  have succumbed to Quiet or died. 
  One who did emerge  from  insanity   remembers   some- 
  
   
  20        Blood Treachery 
                thing   about     a    cannibal    king    and    a                
              typhoon    in   Asia,   but  that's  about  it.  The     
         Order    has    no    current    hypothesis   for  this  
      unfortunate happening. 
  Flambeau — The flame mages are angry. (Surprise.) 
  With the fall of Doissetep, the death of Porthos Fitz-
  Empress and the further constriction of their God-given 
  right to blow shit up whenever they desire, a renewed 
  fatalism has overcome them. Now more than ever, they 
  are willing to sacrifice everything for one great offensive 
  against the forces of the Technocracy -- even if it means 
  the destruction of the Order.  
  Flambeau is the single most active house now, with 
  nearly half of all. Hermetic applicants transferred to the 
  house. Flambeau operations against Technocratic, 
  Nephandic and other supernatural strongholds have 
  increased fivefold. The attrition rate is reaching 
  unsustainable levels, with mages falling to weapons, 
  Paradox, Quiet or the Cauls. The Flambeau's motto is 
  "Unto Death We Charge," and they appear to be 
  reaching this goal faster than ever. How long the carnage 
  will last is anybody's guess. The desperate Flambeau lust 
  for battle may drive these mages to extinction. 
  Fortunae — Between recruiting new Hermetics, 
  managing the Order's finances and just living their lives, 
  mages of House Fortunae are the busiest mages in the 
  Order. The demand from Flambeau for new recruits 
  (cannon fodder) is straining the breezily efficient 
  Fortunae to the breaking point. It's bad enough that they 
  don't have enough time to publish new and astounding 
  proofs; now they have to find the least-qualified mages 
  in the Tellurian and convince them that dying in the 
  name of Hermes is a good idea.  
  Still, Fortunae has mostly escaped the tightening of 
  magic that plagues the other houses. Its magic never 
  relied heavily on Umbrood protocols, and its praxis 
  consists of either divine mathematics (which is so 
  ancient it can never be eradicated) or the cutting edge of 
  new math (which manages to keep one step ahead of the 
  noose). Even in these troubled times, Fortunae is lucky. 
  Janissary - - With the death of Caeron Mustai, House 
  Janissary became a house in search of a mission. Many 
  of the cabals and individual mages that were Janissary 
  agents continue to spy and collect information, but to 
  whom they report is a matter of speculation. More than 
  any other house, Janissary is indicative of the new chaos 
  that has engulfed the Order. It is rudderless and flailing 
  for a purpose, and it dreads the future. 
  A new leader, an Adept named AH Ben-Shamazz, 
  has attempted to steer the sinking ship, repeating des-
  perately the need for orthodoxy within the Order. The 
  fact that so many mages have followed Shamazz and his 
  extremist philosophy is less a cause for hope than evi-
  dence of the doubt and uncertainty that plagues the 
  Order. If the lanisari persist in this course, they may find 
  themselves relegated to Ex Miscellanea before too long. 
  Quaesitor—Now, moreithan ever, there exists a need 
  for judgment and a practiced eye to discern what should 
  and shouldn't be. House Quaesitor seems like the perfect 
  candidate to take control of the Order, as it has a strong, 
  unified structure, unassailable integrity and a common 
  vision of Ascension. However, while individual 
  Quaesitori might jockey for position, the house as a 
  whole must keep its objectivity. It will no| move forward 
  and jeopardize its entire reason for being just because it 
  can. 
  Strange rumors surround the Quaesitori these days, 
  most of them prompted by the mages' refusal to take the 
  reins of leadership. The Quaesitori will not discuss such 
  rumors with anyone, especially the ones concerning their 
  magic. People wonder—sometimes aloud—how the 
  tightening paradigm is affecting the Quaesitori. This 
  speculation leads inevitably to a question almost too 
  horrifying to comprehend. Has the Quaesitori punish-
  ment ritual of Gilgul been compromised? If it has, what 
  can be done with those Awakened mages judged worthy 
  of it? And what has happened to those mages whom the 
  Quaesitori have tried to Gilgul and failed? 
  Shaea—The House of Records is currently bugging 
  the other houses embroiled in the;- crisis, because it 
  doesn't seem affected at ai. While the rest of the Order is 
  panicking and screaming about the End, Shaea sits back 
  calmly and continues with research. The Seshati attitude 
  is simple: These things go in cycles. Having the whole of 
  human history at your fingertips gives one a more 
  relaxed attitude when a crisis hits. 
  Of course, the Seshati aren't entirely idle. They are 
  watching carefully to see if this event is, indeed, the final 
  turn of the screw. They doubt that such is the case, but it 
  is certainly a plausible possibility (at least, more so now 
  than at any point in the past). However, as history has 
  borne out for millennia, everyone is certain that the 
  apocalypse predicted within their lifetime is the real one. 
  In the meantime, House Shaea is busy researching old 
  texts for other Hermetics, a duty that is racking up favors 
  by the day. And the Seshati continue to chronicle the 
  past so that they may preserve it for the future. 
  
   
   Act One: Wizards' March        21 
  Solificati — The Craft formerly known as the 
  Children of Knowledge (and the Tradition formerly 
  known as the Solificati) surprised everyone by accepting 
  the Hermetics' offer of membership, including the 
  Hermetics. After all, the Alchemists were holding out for 
  their own Tradition, hoping to sweep in as the 10th Seat 
  of Unity, unite the Traditions and go for the gold ring of 
  worldwide Ascension. Why, then, be subsumed into the 
  Order instead? 
  Besides obvious political reasons (i.e., they didn't 
  have a chance of making it past the Choristers and 
  Verbena), the Solificati had to choose a side before they 
  fell through the cracks. They had contemplated long 
  enough, and they realized that this chance was their last 
  best one to create the unity they desired. By joining the 
  Order of Hermes, they became the tenth house in the 
  Order. In so doing, they bring unity to the Order itself, 
  and they will help the Order bring that unity to the rest 
  of the Traditions. 
  The Alchemists find themselves coming in with a 
  very strong position. While their classic alchemical 
  knowledge is pure gold (so to speak), the newer breeds 
  of alchemists (see The Book of Crafts for information 
  about the division) bring a revamped and recharged 
  Hermetic philosophy back into the Order. With both the 
  old and the new in one house, they are in a position to 
  purify the Order — and the world — from within. 
  Thig  —  The  so-called  "technobrats"  have  reached 
  puberty.   They   were   forced   to  look at   their own 
  mortality   when  Altimeas   Cowling  and   his  cabal   in 
  Doissetep fell. Now an older and wiser 
  — but no less bewildering — House Thig 
  is burning to take the fight directly to the 
  Technocracy. While its scholarship may not compete 
  with most Hermetics, its ideas and strange praxes lend 
  the Order a much-needed edge. 
  Currently Thig is the second-largest Hermetic house 
  after House Flambeau. Its strange take on classical 
  Hermeticism appeals to a generation whose education 
  was sabotaged by a variety of factors. What's more, 
  Thig's magic, unlike that of the other houses, has not 
  backfired. The house's constant drive to improve, refine 
  and discover more of the secrets of the universe has been 
  a lifeline to the rest of the Order, keeping it from falling 
  totally into obsolescence. 
  Tytalus -- How far the mighty have fallen. The 
  Tytalans were once one of the strongest houses of the 
  Order, dominating the other houses and pushing them 
  toward their goals. However, as time went on, the 
  constant challenge the house advocated degenerated into 
  useless antagonism. Now the house is a shadow of its 
  former self. Apprentices are rare, put off by the 
  unrelenting pressure the house puts on them. 
  The Tytalans are unsure of how to remedy the 
  situation. Some advocate a return to the past, an 
  entrenchment into the tried-and-true Tytalan mentality. 
  Others look forward, trying to scry the house's part in 
  future events. Some get depressed, some| plot new 
  stratagems, some go insane. And, as Act Three of this 
  book illustrates, some decide on a novel approach that 
  might win the day... or seal the house's doom.   
   
   
  GUNS, GUNS, GUNS 
   
  A lot of blood and gun-fighting and dying goes on in 
  this play — it's a regular action-fest. But aren't mages 
  and vampires more subtle than that? Well, of course they 
  are. However, that subtlety is — by definition — the part 
  you don't see. 
  Remember, just because some minions are running 
  around with sub-machine guns doesn't mean that nasty 
  influence wars aren't going on in the  background. 
  Mages use their powers to alter  the  plans  and resources  
  of   the   vampires   subtly; 
  the vampires infiltrate human society and manipulate 
  records, police and finances discreetly in order to shut 
  down Tradition Chantries and cut off their allies. The 
  Traditions liberate vampire   servitors,   and  the  
  vampires  use   their blood-powers to control the minds 
  and spirits of Tradition allies. So remember this: If your 
  character wants to survive, he'll need to pay attention to 
  the man behind the curtain. 
  
   
  22        Blood Treachery 
  SCENE 1 
  The lights rise on the Sanctum of one ABRAHAM 
  THE WHITE, a mage of House Bonisagus .It is a 
  crowded room filled with arcana of all manner. Wearing 
  a purple mask, ABRAHAM sits within a pentode that 
  has been etched in the floor. A smaller pentacle faces 
  him. Candles surround him. Unseen by the Bonisagus, 
  the ORACLES observe from their appointed stations. 
  ABRAHAM: (in Enochian) ... in the name of all 
  things sacred and divine, and by the oath I have sworn 
  with thee, I compel thee: Appear. 
  Nothing happens. 
  Appear! 
  Again, nothing. 
  Appear, damn you! 
  FORCES: Spirit, sibling, why do you weep? 
  ABRAHAM stands up in a rage, knocking over 
  candles, disrupting the circle. 
  ABRAHAM: This is inconceivable. Five times I 
  have attempted the Greater Ritual of Summoning; five 
  times I have etched the circles, lit the candles, walked 
  the tree and uttered the invocation, and nothing! 
  NOTHING! How is this possible, that these most ancient 
  of rituals no longer work, even within the confines of my 
  Sanctum? What is happening? 
  I must be doing something wrong. I will go back to 
  the grimoire to make sure I have not done anything 
  wrong — although I believe I have not — and try again. 
  And it will be all right. It will be all right. 
   
  SCENE 2 
  The libraries of Horizon. ABRAHAM follows a dod-
  dering NICODEMUS MULHOUSE, who also wears a 
  purple mask. 
  MULHOUSE:.. .and the Latin translation, which 
  came to us in 1104, from an eccentric magus in the 
  Swiss Alps who had sequestered himself for some time. 
  ABRAHAM: Dear Mulhouse, I already have the 
  Latin translation. What I need is the original, the very 
  first edition of the book. 
  MULHOUSE: Well, aren't we feeling industrious 
  today? The original, eh? 
  He thinks then starts cackling. 
  ABRAHAM: What? Is the tome lost? 
  MULHOUSE: Oh, I believe so. I believe it is indeed 
  lost. 
  ABRAHAM: It was on Doissetep, wasn't it? 
  MULHOUSE: No, no, no, it wasn't destroyed, as far 
  as I know. But as I recall, the book in question was last 
  possessed by an expatriate-turned-vampire later stricken 
  from our records, in the 10th century. 
  ABRAHAM: So there's no way to get it. 
  MULHOUSE: You could always ask the vampires. 
  I'm sure they'd love to assist you. 
  MULHOUSE exits, laughing. 
  ENTROPY: (recoiling, almost as though struck) 
  Dear Mulhouse, know you not what you have uttered? 
  Dark cloud's are draum across Horizon's bright sky. 
   
  SCENE 3 
  In the library of the Exeter Chantry, in London, 
  around 3 A.M.. AURELIAN ARCHAMBEAU, PAUL 
  CORBIN, 
  REBECCA 
  MITSOTAKAI, 
  EDWARD 
  GREY and JOSIAH LAMB (all masked in purple) speak 
  in hushed tones over liqueur. 
  AURELIEN: People are beginning to panic, my 
  friends. These events are no longer idle mishaps, but 
  something happening on a larger scale. Even my 
  simplest experiments have fallen prey to this unfortunate 
  affliction. I have been able to compensate, for alchemy is 
  quite versatile, but for those who do not practice the 
  Royal Art... 
  PAUL: Yeah, we know, all right? Not all of us can 
  sit around our labs and make potions and unguents. Hell, 
  I have Constructs to raid, and if my magic's fucking up 
  on me... I mean, it's bad enough most of my shit's risky 
  when I'm in a Construct anyway. Now with this bullshit 
  going on, I might as well not even be a mage. 
  REBECCA: Is this happening across the board? I 
  know that I haven't experienced too many troubles 
  myself. Then again, I deal with math, not ritual. 
  EDWARD: It's not like nothing's working. We're 
  still able to accomplish things. But what's unsettling 
  people is how the formulae, the rituals, the seals are no 
  longer reliable. These teachings have been with us for 
  millennia. My pater, Abraham, has fairly driven himself 
  into Twilight over this. 
  JOSIAH: Is it possible that the rituals have been 
  misinterpreted ? After all, we're dealing with translations 
  of translations. Can't we just go back to the originals and 
  make sure we're not doing something wrong? 
  EDWARD: That's impossible. The original texts we 
  had were in Doissetep. The books in Horizon are 
  translations. The Order didn't want to give away the 
  secrets to the other Traditions. And every time we try 
  and find other originals, we keep running into the same 
  name — House Tremere. It appears they absconded with 
  quite a few texts. 
  PAUL: Then why not take them back? 
  Bemused chuckles from everyone except PAUL. 
  TIME and ENTROPY hide their faces. 
  
   
   Act One: Wizards' March        23 
  PAUL: No, I'm serious. If they have the books, why 
  not take them back from them? 
  EDWARD: Because we have no idea where they are. 
  It's been a thousand years. 
  REBECCA: Besides, I have better things to do than 
  chase after myths that may or may not have something to 
  do with anything. 
  Resigned pause. 
  JOSIAH: Any word from Matthew? 
  Awkward silence. 
  PAUL: Nothing. Still. 
  AURELIEN: It has been well over three months. 
  Has no one attempted to locate him? 
  JOSIAH: Of course. Scrying, telepathy... I even 
  went to the police. He's completely vanished. 
  EDWARD: He was always good at hiding, though. 
  He'll be fine. I'm sure of it. He'll be just fine. 
  PAUL: What if he's- 
  EDWARD: He'll be fine. He will. I'm sure of it. 
   
  SCENE 4 
  The Grand Tribunal of the Order of Hermes, tempo-
  rarily housed within the Quaesitor Ancestral Chantry, in 
  the Black Forest of Germany. SHARAD OSEI, flanked by 
  two other Thigs (all masked in purple), stands before the 
  assembled council (likewise masked), reading a report. 
  OSEI: We were first alerted to the possibility that 
  this was more than a simple typhoon not only by the 
  unnaturally high death toll of the storm, but also from 
  the huge surge in Technocratic traffic that coincided 
  with it. At first, we weren't sure what was going on, but 
  after several months of digging through ill-secured 
  Technocracy records, we've managed to put together 
  several of the pieces. What we found does not bode well 
  for us or the world. Please pay careful attention, here; 
  many Bothans died to bring us this report. 
  It appears that there was a gi-fucking-normous Tech-
  nocratic operation that went by the code name of 
  Ragnarok. And yes, all the implications of that word are 
  spoken for in this operation. What went on in 
  Bangladesh was apparently the work of a vampire. One. 
  As in single. As in one vampire is responsible for 
  millions of deaths, untold damage and worldwide 
  insanity, as well as the deaths of scores of mages from 
  other Traditions and the current state of the remaining 
  Criamon. 
  To put things into perspective, let me show you what 
  it took to kill this one, solitary God-damned vampire. 
  Pages 23 through 27 of your copies will show you the 
  authorization codes for the deployment of solar mirrors. 
  We didn't even know the Technocracy had solar mirrors, 
   
  
   
  24        Blood Treachery 
  but I guess they felt this a worthwhile waste of trillions of 
  dollars. They reflected the sun into that precise spot, but 
  apparently this creature had control of the weather, because 
  the typhoon sprung up about a minute after deployment. 
  Coincidence? You tell me. I'm just the Thig. 
  The typhoon lasted until the date of the memos detailed 
  on page 39. When the mirrors proved ineffective, 
  Technocracy Control apparently gave authorization, under 
  this Code Ragnarok, for nuclear fucking deployment. The 
  Technocracy had to drop three nuclear warheads on this 
  damn vampire, and that only seemed to weaken the thing, 
  because the Technocracy reports that the creature died only 
  after the typhoon weakened enough to allow the reflected 
  sunlight to break through the cloud cover. Three nuclear 
  warheads weakened this creature, after untold numbers of 
  Sleepers, mages and supernatural what-have-yous died 
  trying to take it down. 
  What conclusions can be drawn from these findings, 
  class ? No good ones. I don't know that much about the 
  ways and wherefores of vampires, but I know that any 
  creature that is this powerful can only be bad fucking news. 
  My fellow Primi, I realize we have our own problems. But 
  if the massasa are this powerful — if, indeed, the house 
  that got away back in the Stone Age is this powerful — 
  then we have a horrifying new front to the Ascension War 
  to consider. 
   
  SCENE 5 
  ExeterChantry. REBECCA, AURELIENJOSIAH, and 
  PAUL sit in the study. 
  AURELIEN: I've had some success with the newer 
  theories my fellow Solificati have provided, as well as 
  incorporating some formulae Rebecca gave me. I even did 
  some research with a Dreamspeaker friend, and his insights 
  are astounding. I think we may have something new 
  coming up soon. 
  PAUL: That might help you, but that ain't doing jack-
  shit for me. I have a scouting job coming up, and I'm 
  screwed. My people have been going off like Roman 
  candles from the 'dox. It's insane. Everybody's flipping out. 
  REBECCA: And talking about the Massasa War. 
  JOSIAH: What? What about it? 
  REBECCA: Where have you been? Everywhere I go, 
  people are talking about all the books the Tremere have, the 
  amount of knowledge the vampires must've accumulated 
  over centuries or how they sent a vampire into Bangladesh 
  to kill everything. I'm hearing some truly far-fetched 
  theories. 
  AURELIEN: And yet, the one thing that everyone 
  seems to agree on is that they have a treasure trove of texts. 
  Texts that can reinvigorate our praxes. 
  PAUL: So why aren't we grabbing them? 
  AURELIEN: More and more people seem to be asking 
  that question. 
  Split scene — the streets of London. EDWARD walks 
  along under the moon, until he spies a familiar figure — 
  but one who wears a bloodied mask. 
  EDWARD: Matthew! 
  MATTHEW turns, sees EDWARD and freezes in 
  horror. 
  EDWARD: Matthew! What the hell? 
  MATTHEW bolts. EDWARD chases after him. 
  MATTHEW is faster. After a while, EDWARD falls 
  behind, winded and tired. MATTHEW runs for a door, but 
  he turns around to face EDWARD before entering. 
  EDWARD: Matthew... what... what happened to you? 
  MATTHEW: They took me, Edward. The undead. 
  They took me, and they destroyed my soul. 
  EDWARD: No... no... 
  MATTHEW: No more a magus, Edward. Now I'm one 
  of them. Please, go. List me among the dead. This 
  (indicates the door) is where I dwell now. Forget me. Make 
  sure they all forget me. 
  The door opens, and a GENTLEMAN, also wearing a 
  blood-red mask, exits the house. EDWARD quickly pulls 
  the shadows over him to hide. 
  GENTLEMAN: Matthew. Is everything all right? 
  MATTHEW: Yes, yes... I was... startled, I thought 
  someone was following me, but I think I just panicked. Saw 
  something that wasn't there. 
  GENTLEMAN: You're still getting used to your 
  power. It's a common occurrence. Come, you're expected. 
  The GENTLEMAN and MATTHEW enter. MAT-
  THEW doesn't look back. EDWARD emerges from hiding, 
  saddened and furious. He watches the door, then enters the 
  Exeter scene. 
  REBECCA: Edward, what's wrong? What happened? 
  EDWARD: I found Matthew... I found... I... 
  JOSIAH: Is he dead? 
  EDWARD: Worse! His soul... his soul, destroyed... 
  the... 
  AURELIEN: Calm down, Edward. 
  EDWARD: The vampires took him! He's one of them 
  now! They drank his soul and turned him into a monster, 
  and now he's one of them. He's a worthless... They killed 
  him and keep him around for their... They just wanted him, 
  and they took him. They killed him, the bastards. 
  Everyone is stunned while EDWARD weeps. Then: 
  PAUL: Vengeance. 
  
   
   Act One: Wizards' March        25 
  AURELIEN: Paul, calm— 
  PAUL: No! (The air around PAUL momentarily 
  shimmers with flame.) Fuck this! They grab one of ours, 
  our friend, they destroy his soul and turn him into just 
  another bloodsucking piece of shit? And we're just 
  supposed to take it? We get shit on by the undead, we just 
  take it. We get shit on by the Technocracy, and we just take 
  it. When are we gonna start acting like mages? When are 
  we gonna stop hiding and come out swinging, huh? When, 
  Aurelien? 
  Tense pause. 
  AURELIAN: We do not have the power to face them! 
  We already reel from broken magic, the press of 
  technology and the loss of Doissetep. We cannot risk 
  picking yet another fight right now. 
  PAUL: Maybe you can't handle it, but I stand up for my 
  friends. I know I'm not the only one either. If you're not 
  going to support me, I know plenty of Flambeau who will. 
  Paul exits. 
  REBECCA: (whispering) He's right. This fire's about 
  to rage out of control. 
   
  SCENE 6 
  The Grand Tribunal chamber. It is filled with mages 
  who al wear purple masks. REBECCA JOSIAH, PAUL, 
  EDWARD and AURELIEN sit at the Table of the Advo-
  cates. MARCUS DE ALLEGRESSE, bani Tytalus, speaks, 
  with his second, JOHANN KURTZWEIL, who stands 
  nearby. JEREMY CHASTAM, bani Quaesitor, faces 
  MARCUS, and ISHAQ IBN-THOTH, bani Quaesitor, sits 
  in judgment. 
  MARCUS: We are not asking for anything that is not 
  already binding to us. House Tremere was tried in absentia 
  for its crimes, and its members were all sentenced to 
  Requital. That judgment has never been countermanded, it 
  has never been overruled, and it has never been enforced. 
  The Mossosa War dwindled to nothing, and these snakes 
  have been allowed to fester in our garden for over 800 
  years. Surely seeking justice is not merely the act of finding 
  someone guilty of wrongdoing, but of carrying out the 
  appropriate punishment. Now is the time for the undead — 
  and for any of our escaped, errant brethren — to face their 
  punishment. 
  JEREMY:  While  you may  be correct in the guilt of 
  the historical  House Tremere,  I cannot understand why 
  you request punishment at this time. Surely, one does not 
  need to look very far to see the chaos that is engulfing our 
  Order. The Ars Arcane are shaking apart, unlike anything 
  since the vaunted Scourge was first reported in the 15th 
  century.  The  Technocracy  —  our  true  enemy —  comes 
  closer and closer to domination. It eradicates the super-
  natural on one hand, and these mad fanatics walk the street, 
  ready to destroy anything they perceive as "different" on 
  the other. And now, in our moment of crisis, you wish to 
  distract us with a war against the undead? What madness is 
  this? We must solve our problems, not uncover new ones. 
  This is distraction at best; suicide at worst. I pray, Master 
  Ibn-Thoth, let calmer heads prevail. 
  MARCUS: You speak of the problems that beset the 
  Order currently. What you fail to realize is that these 
  vampires have been jealously hoarding knowledge that was 
  never rightfully theirs. You fail to understand that the 
  traitors have continued to kidnap, kill and convert Hermetic 
  mages and censors for their own purposes over these long 
  centuries. With a victory over the undead comes a victory 
  for all of humanity. We have read House Thig's report. If 
  one vampire can destroy Bangladesh, what could a house of 
  them do ? Who knows what plans these vampires have for 
  the world, sending their pawns to war? They are a cancer 
  that must be expunged at all costs! 
  JEREMY: Now is not the time to expunge them! We 
  fought the massasa once before, during our time of 
  strength. We are weakened now. There is no sense to 
  another war, especially one that could finish us. We must 
  survive and gather our strength. To chase down a few 
  remaining vampires who were cast from our Order 
  centuries ago — to hunt the undead wantonly, to incite 
  them further — is to bring ruin down upon our own heads. 
  MARCUS: And to stand aside is not? These expatriates 
  have already struck at us. They steal from our ranks and 
  destroy the very Avatars of those they claim. When one 
  mage makes war against them, they make war against us 
  all. Do we stand together as unified houses against their 
  threat, or do we allow them to crush our brethren, separate 
  and weakened as they may be ? Master Ibn-Thoth, I hereby 
  formally petition House Quaesitor to reinstate the Wizards' 
  March against the rogue House Tremere, and to expand this 
  battle to the undead who unjustly hoard the stolen resources 
  and powers of our Order. 
  ISHAQ: The Council will consider the arguments. This 
  Tribunal will stand under recess. 
  People file out. 
  REBECCA: Master De Allegresse... Once again, thank 
  you so much for agreeing to speak for us. 
  MARCUS: Not at all, my dear. I agree with your cause 
  and your passion. Don't worry, I have a feeling we'll win. 
  REBECCA: (somewhat distracted) Thank you again, 
  sir. 
  Exeunt all but MARCUS and JOHANN. 
  JOHANN: I still don't understand it, Magister. 
  MARCUS: What is there to understand? 
  
   
  26        Blood Treachery 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  JOHANN: Your advocacy for this cause. What good 
  will it do the Order? 
  MARCUS: Ah, dear Johann, you're still not thinking 
  along the right lines. Think of it this way. The Order is 
  in a panic. Everyone starts looking for a scapegoat. They 
  find these Tremere, but what can be done? By a stroke of 
  luck, a young cabal discovers that one of their friends 
  has been Embraced. One strikes at the undead, and the 
  bloodsuckers push back against others who know 
  nothing about the little conflict. This is nothing new, 
  Johann. They've been poaching us for centuries, but an 
  issue was never made about it. The attacks have been 
  only rumors for as long as many of us remember. Now, 
  suddenly, this cabal discovers that the rumors are true, 
  and they drum up a groundswell of support for 
  vengeance. Enter the friendly Tytalan Master with the 
  connections to get their case heard. 
  JOHANN: But what if it doesn't work? 
  MARCUS: It'll work, believe me. People are too 
  passionate about it already. This impulsive Flambeau, 
  Paul, has infected many other members of his house with 
  his cry for vengeance. Ishaq, despite his claims of 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  objectivity, is too smart to ignore the voices of such a 
  large house. So if we play our part well — act as the 
  enabling friend, the counselor, the guide... 
  JOHANN: And if the war doesn't work? What if we 
  start losing? 
  MARCUS: We won't. Here's the trump card: Master 
  Hortemone had the old Massasa War-era House Tremere 
  figured out. No one else knows this, but I discovered his 
  private journals in his Earthbound Chantry. He was 
  double-crossing the vampires for about 20 years. 
  According to his notes, they're easy targets. There aren't 
  a lot of them, and there's so much back-stabbing between 
  them that they couldn't mount a united defense against a 
  termite infestation. 
  JOHANN: But he publicly advocated reinstating 
  House Tremere in the Order! 
  MARCUS: A pawn is still a pawn, even if it's 
  undead, Johann. There are too many levels to this game. 
  You'll have to get better at playing. Stay by my side, and 
  you'll learn the rules soon enough. 
  Exeunt.  
  
   
   Act One: Wizards' March        27 
  SCENE 7 
  REBECCA, PAUL, EDWARD, AURELIEN, and 
  JOSIAH in their private chamber. 
  JOSIAH: I don't like this. There's too much 
  bloodlust in the air. When Marcus was talking, you 
  could practically hear the Flambeau drooling. 
  PAUL: Hey! 
  EDWARD: Do I have to remind you that Matthew— 
  JOSIAH: No, you don't, Edward. I know full well 
  what happened to Matthew, and I'm as pissed off as you 
  are. 
  PAUL: Then what's the fucking problem? We're 
  gonna take care of them. 
  AURELIEN: I believe dear Josiah's problem is not 
  with the matter of revenge, but with how big our revenge 
  has become. I myself did not expect things to get this far. 
  After all, there's a difference between a cabal solving a 
  murder and an entire Tradition declaring war against 
  vampires. 
  REBECCA: It's out of our hands now. 
  PAUL: Not necessarily. 
  REBECCA: No, it is. I can feel it, I can see the 
  fractals in the air. We're not steering the boat anymore; 
  we're being carried into the rapids by the current. 
  PAUL: Bullshit. I'm totally in control of my destiny. 
  REBECCA: Of course you are. 
  AURELIEN: But this matter is out of our hands. It is 
  a Tradition-wide issue now. Either we will go to war, or 
  we will not. And every one of us will be expected to do 
  his part. 
  JOSIAH: I'm not sure what I could do to help. 
  EDWARD: You're a healer. We'll need plenty of 
  that. 
  PAUL: Are you kidding? This is gonna be like 
  Desert Storm. I've heard so much bullshit about these 
  vampires, but you know what? I bet they're like the 
  Republican Guard. Remember them? The Elite Repub-
  lican Guard? Well, let me tell you how elite they were. 
  When we were rolling towards Kuwait, the Iraqi army 
  practically gave us an escort there. Same thing with the 
  bloodsuckers. The enemy always seems so much worse 
  than it actually is. 
  REBECCA: I really hope you're right, Paul, and that 
  I'm very, very wrong. Because I have such a bad feeling 
  about this. 
  AURELIEN: Even though you played your part in 
  bringing this situation about? 
  REBECCA: Especially because of that, Aurelien. 
  Especially. 
  SCENE 8 
  The Tribunal Chamber, Everyone as before. ISHAQ 
  stands in the center. 
  ISHAQ: ...Furthermore, in its ruthless campaign of 
  enslaving, corrupting or killing magi of the Order of 
  Hermes, and possibly of our fellow Traditions, these 
  undead sorcerers and sympathizers to the outcast House 
  Tremere have set themselves in a state of war long after 
  the original hostilities had ceased. It is an act of aggres-
  sion that can no longer be tolerated. 
  Therefore, let it be known that on this day, the 
  twenty-first day of January, A.D. 2000, the Order of the 
  Quaesitori hereby declares Wizards' March against 
  House Tremere and all members and associates therein, 
  living or undead. Their lives, property and souls are 
  forfeit. Let the wrath of the Order of Hermes lay waste 
  to our enemies. Ave Hermes. 
  The scene freezes. The ORACLES appear. 
  ENTROPY: There. It is done. The corner is turned. 
  There is no going back. 
  FORCES: Oh, my proud cousins, how could you 
  have fallen so far? You know not how you have encom-
  passed your doom! How could you not see the pit 
  beneath your feet? 
  MIND: Fear and panic dwells in their hearts. You 
  can read it on their faces — the exhilaration of acting 
  without forethought. They are not the confident magi 
  they would like to believe they are. They are terrified of 
  the future. 
  TIME: As well they should be. I have seen the road 
  beyond. 
  SPIRIT: But Brother Time, is not the future un-
  written? 
  TIME: Perhaps. But from this valley, I only see the 
  stream dying in the distance. 
  FORCES: Then someone should lift them from their 
  gully. 
  CONNECTION: Poor Hermetics. They have lost the 
  wings on their feet! Someone will have to remind them 
  of what their Name means! 
  LIFE: Not before we carve away the sickness, 
  though. I can smell it — blood, gore, disease. Death lies 
  ahead. 
  ENTROPY: Does that bother you, Sister? 
  LIFE: All things die, Sister. Whether they live 
  again... I doubt even you could say whether the Cycle 
  will continue. 
  FORCES: I can feel the stirring of the lightning, the 
  burning of the fire of hate within them. Come. We must 
  attend to the war. 
  Exeunt.
  
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  
   
  Act Two: Hidden War        29 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  SCENE I 
  The lights come up slowly, revealing 
  broken bodies and smoking ruins. Here, a 
  WRETCHED SURVIVOR in a purple 
  mask drags his shattered form toward a 
  destination he no longer remembers, nor 
  will he ever reach. There, a YOUNG 
  VAMPIRE in a red mask — too wounded 
  to flee or even lap the blood that pools mere yards away 
  — awaits the arrival of rosy-fingered dawn. Saddened by 
  the carnage, the ORACLES enter and take their places. 
  CONNECTION: The blood between close kin runs 
  hot. The crimson Branch forgets not the Tree, nor the 
  Tree the Branch. Alike in their desires, they see only the 
  differences that move the killing hand. 
  TIME gestures to the YOUNG VAMPIRE, a blood 
  tear rolling down its ruined mask and onto its corpse-
  white cheek. 
  TIME: Was it any different with the first of their 
  kind?  
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  ENTROPY: No, it is not the same, Brother. Surely, a 
  curse follows this dark endeavor, but it is a curse of 
  man's pride and folly. It is the ambition that is both the 
  rot in the root and the worm that cultivates it. 
  SPIRIT: Indeed. Two Caines stand at this altar, each 
  yearning to butcher the other upon the block. 
  FORCES stands over the WRETCHED SURVIVOR, 
  who strains for a moment to see the Oracle, then 
  expires. 
  FORCES: Your plowshare, O Caine, has become 
  your sword, and with it will you reap a bloody harvest. 
  MIND: But wait! There is a glimmer of hope. 
  The sun breaks over the horizon. Sudden!^, the 
  YOUNG VAMPIRE bursts into /lames, as do several 
  other red-masked bodies on the field. An acrid pall fills 
  the air. 
  MATTER: I cannot see it for the smoke of burning 
  corpses. 
  Obscured by the thick smoke, the lights dim slowly 
  and fade to darkness.  
  
   
  30        Blood Treachery 
   
  SCENE 2 
  The scene begins with darkness, lingering and thick. 
  Slowly, a single shaft of light comes up, illuminating 
  TIME within. The Oracle holds a cracked hourglass 
  from which drips a crimson liquid. 
  TIME: The stage is set, but there is no living player 
  upon it. You have seen the pain linger after the first 
  blow, and perhaps now you wonder who were those 
  broken wretches on the bloodstained earth. Come. 
  Attend, and all shall be made clear. 
  TIME turns the hourglass over and the present gives 
  way to the past. The lights come up on a cabal of 
  Hermetic mages made up of ADAM BELL, bani 
  Janissary, WILLIAM UNDERWOOD, bani Flambeau, 
  SOPHIA CHEVALLIER, bani Tytalus, and TAKEDA 
  MURAMASA, bani Thig. In the distance, another cabal 
  is visible and, further off, yet another. All wear purple 
  masks. TAKEDA is typing on a notebook computer. 
  TAKEDA: What's the program again, Adam? 
   
   
  ADAM: First priority is to raid the library, second is 
  a sweep-and-clear. Pretty simple. 
  WILLIAM: How many are we looking at? 
  ADAM: No more than three, according to 
  intelligence. Most of them have left to attend some sort 
  of mandatory massasa function. Beyond that, there will 
  probably be some minimal resistance from mortal 
  servitors. 
  MIND approaches and stands between ADAM and 
  SOPHIA, talking heed as a telepathic contact is initiated 
  between them. 
  MIND: What is this? A deception... 
  SOPHIA: (telepathically to ADAM) No matter what, 
  we get the books, right? 
  ADAM: (telepathically to SOPHIA) Correct. Don't 
  slow yourself down trying to save the wounded. This 
  place is full of vampires, and any hesitation or delay will 
  ruin our mission. It has been determined that we must 
  gauge the strength of these massasa in a head-on assault 
  scenario. We anticipate upwards of 40% attrition on our 
  side.  
  
   
   Act Two: Hidden War        31 
  SOPHIA: (tekpathically to ADAM) Fair enough. 
  And their Node? 
  ADAM: (tekpathically to SOPHIA) It must be 
  heavily warded against detection; we haven't been able 
  to locate it yet. When we get inside, I'll attempt to 
  pinpoint their source of vis. 
  SOPHIA: (tekpathically to ADAM) Looks like it's 
  almost time. See you on the other side. 
  The contact is severed as the cabal runs in low and 
  quickly toward the vampires' building. Left alone with 
  TIME, MIND gestures for the other ORACLES to gather 
  around. They approach. 
  PRIME: O heirs to Hermes, seek you not their 
  corrupted power! The barest sip from that well is death 
  everlasting. 
  ENTROPY: And yet, the lots are thrown. They shall 
  find what they seek, only to discover that it is both more 
  and less than even the learned Order could conceive. 
  What say you, brother? 
  TIME: Truly, it is better to be ignorant than it is to 
  perceive such deadly half-truths. 
  LIFE: I weep that they shall know the corpse-dark 
  nectar of murder and make of it a Cray. 
  CONNECTION: So eager are they to pursue this 
  thread to its end that they see not Atropos' shears 
  looming. 
  FORCES breaks away from the others and looks off 
  whence the cabal departed. 
  FORCES: My dear children, I pray you bum brightly 
  against the night that now rises to consume you and see 
  through to the break of day. 
   
  SCENE 3 
  Within the chantry. A smoldering hole has been burnt 
  through a wall, and just beyond it lies the incinerated 
  form of WILLIAM. ADAM and SOPHIA meet up, each 
  carrying a knapsack full of books. 
  ADAM: I haven't been able to locate their Node. I 
  keep getting brief flickers of a vast well of vis being 
  tapped, and then it fades. But it's never in the same place 
  twice. 
  SOPHIA: A mobile warded Node? I suppose it's 
  possible. 
  Suddenly, a VAMPIRE in a blood-red mask 
  materializes out of the air, grabbing ADAM's arm. 
  Tendrils of electricity course between the VAMPIRE 
  and ADAM, licking at the floor, ceiling and walls. 
  ADAM screams, convulsing in the VAMPIRE's grip. 
  The VAMPIRE throws ADAM's agonized form to 
  SOPHIA's feet. ADAM gestures to the VAMPIRE, who 
  approaches slowly. 
  ADAM: (hoarse with pain) Good God, that's the 
  Node. 
  ADAM turns to SOPHIA. 
  ADAM: Help me, Sophie. 
  SOPHIA helps ADAM to his feet as the VAMPIRE 
  closes the gap between them. Quickly, SOPHIA 
  wrenches the knapsack from ADAM's shoulder, throws 
  ADAM into the VAMPIRE and runs with the books. The 
  lights dim everywhere else, following SOPHIA s flight, 
  as a bloodcurdling scream rends the darkness. 
   
  SCENE 4 
  A dim parlor in the Salamanca Chantry . JOHANN 
  KURTZWEIL and SOPHIA CHEVALLIER sit across a 
  small table from one another. On the table between them 
  sits a small stack of books and a sheaf of papers. 
  JOHANN: So he claimed that the vampire itself was 
  the source of vis he was detecting? 
  SOPHIA: Yes. 
  JOHANN: And what became of Adam Bell, bani 
  Janissary? 
  SOPHIA: Our orders seemed clear as regarded the 
  wounded. 
  JOHANN: So, you are then the only survivor who 
  knows of this? 
  SOPHIA: Yes. 
  JOHANN: Excellent. Keep silent on this matter. 
  This is a point of Order security now. Your involvement 
  in this endeavor and the information you've returned 
  with is most appreciated by the Order, Sophia. Your 
  potential has not gone unnoticed, and the Masters of the 
  house want you to have these. 
  JOHANN removes the sheaf of papers from the table 
  and pushes the books across to SOPHIA. As SOPHIA 
  accepts the books, JOHANN places the papers in his 
  briefcase. The covers of the books bear the titles of rare 
  and wondrous tomes penned by long-dead Masters. 
  JOHANN: Though most of the books your raid 
  acquired are needed to replenish the Order's lost library, 
  these are either already in the Order's possession in their 
  original form, or they are first or second translations. We 
  trust that your receipt of these ancient treasures will be 
  kept discreet and that you will protect them against our 
  enemies. You should feel honored, Sophia. You now 
  have the attention of the highest levels of power within 
  House Tytalus, and your undoubtedly spectacular ascent 
  will be watched closely. 
  SOPHIA: I am indeed honored, and I shall endeavor 
  to be worthy of my house's favor. 
  
   
  32        Blood Treachery 
  JOHANN: Wonderful. However, even though I 
  truly wish to stay here a while and discuss these 
  developments with you, I'm afraid I have to be going. 
  I, too, have superiors to report to, and their time is far 
  more precious than mine. Congratulations, Sophia, 
  and adieu. 
  SOPHIA: Adieu, monsieur. 
  Both rise and shake hands. SOPHIA then tucks the 
  books under her arm and departs. JOHANN watches 
  her leave and then departs through another door. For 
  a moment, silence and stillness. Then, JOHANN 
  returns with MARCUS DE ALLEGRESSE, and both 
  take seats at the table. 
  MARCUS: So, it is as we suspected. Hortemone's 
  experiments are borne out. Their blood is a source of 
  vis. 
  JOHANN: It would appear so. Ms. Chevallier 
  claimed that the Janissary mistook the most powerful 
  of them for a mobile Node. It seems a rather ideal 
  situation; they need no Nodes as they carry their 
  Quintessence with them. 
  Struck suddenly by an idea, MARCUS leans 
  forward, places his elbows on the table and steeples 
  his fingers. He bows his head a bit to touch his lips to 
  them. A moment later, he looks up and locks eyes with 
  JOHANN. 
  MARCUS: I will need to perform a few experi-
  ments in light of this discovery. The old books should 
  help, especially the ones written during the war. Good 
  work, Kurtzweil. Let's keep this matter quiet for now. 
  JOHANN: I expected no less. Are we all set, then? 
  MARCUS: Yes. I'll meet up with you in 
  Melbourne in a month. 
  JOHANN nods silently and moves toward the door. 
  MARCUS: Oh, and one last thing, Johann. 
  JOHANN: Yes, Magister? 
  MARCUS: Make sure the next raiding party ex-
  tracts a surviving vampire for me. I have my own 
  experiments to perform. 
   
  SCENE 5 
  A battle. Chaos envelops all as mage and vampire, 
  custos and ghoul, fall into the timeless rhythms of war. 
  Flanked by a gray-masked GARGOYLE, a red-masked 
  vampire ELDER emerges from the melee and surveys 
  the scene. 
  ELDER: First, rumors of a Crusade, and now this! ? 
  Is there no end to such madness? What do you make of 
  it? 
  GARGOYLE: Not understand, master. Break any 
  who try hurt you. (suddenly, the GARGOYLE turns) 
  Master, someone approaches. 
  A cry comes out of the darkness as five mages charge 
  the clearing. The GARGOYLE roars and strikes the first 
  man to arrive, snapping bones like twigs. Two shotgun 
  blasts 
  answer 
  the 
  attack; 
  one 
  peppering 
  the 
  GARGOYLE'S right arm, the other nearly ripping the 
  ELDER in half. 
  GARGOYLE: (ignoring the wound) Master! 
  ELDER: (as he is borne to the ground by two 
  Hermetic mages) Flee! Quit this place! Tell the others of 
  our fate! 
  Torn between loyalty and duty as heavily armed Her-
  metic mages and custos begin to close on him, the 
  GARGOYLE takes /light. A few shots are fired, but they 
  only glance off his stony skin. 
   
  SCENE 6 
  Half the stage stands in darkness. The other half 
  reveals MARCUS DE ALLEGRESSE's dimly lit labora-
  tory. The vampire ELDER is strapped down to a metal 
  table. The ELDER s mask is cinched tight to his head by 
  a leather and metal apparatus that keeps one steel pin 
  driven through his tongue and one into each of his eyes. 
  The wound in the ELDER's midsection is almost healed, 
  although it remains raw and ragged. Strangely, the 
  wound is almost bloodless. Enter MARCUS. 
  MARCUS: And how are we this evening, my friend? 
  I see that you have initiated the healing process with my 
  generous gift of, how do you call it... (sifts through a few 
  pieces of paper on a nearby table) vitae? I see that you 
  have also discerned that I did not leave you with enough 
  of the precious substance to heal fully while staving 
  off... (once again, MARCUS refers to the papers) torpor. 
  ELDER makes an inarticulate sound, groups and be-
  gins thrashing against his bonds. 
  MARCUS: Really. Must you make such a scene? 
  MARCUS attaches a small contraption, rather like a 
  guillotine, to the table above the ELDER's neck. He then 
  tugs on a cable, raising the blade an inch or so, before 
  removing the pin holding the blade in place. 
  MARCUS: An ingenious device, if I do say so. If 
  you should speak any of your massasa charms, my 
  friend, rest assured that the blade suspended over your 
  neck will fall. At best, it will bite into the bone and 
  silence you. At worst... Best not to think of that. 
  MARCUS removes the pin from the ELDER's tongue 
  and sets it aside, taking up a small vial of blood and 
  pouring the barest of trickles into the ELDER's mouth. 
  
   
   Act Two: Hidden War        33 
   
   
  MARCUS: There. Now, heal your tongue that we 
  might discourse like civil men. 
  The hole in the ELDER's tongue closes. 
  ELDER: I am Gerald Windham of the Fourth Circle 
  and my first and only loyalty is to House Tremere. 
  MARCUS: Indeed. Name, rank and serial number? 
  Is this to be the way you'd rather we do this? Very well, 
  then... 
  MARCUS takes up a wicked-looking, barbed in-
  strument and the lights on that side of the stage begin to 
  dim. As the lights begin to come up on the other half of 
  the stage, screams erupt and trail off quickly into 
  silence. The lights on the other half of the stage then 
  come up fully on the study of the Bonn Chantry. 
  INGMAR STROHMANN bani Bonisagus, URSULA 
  SCHWARTZ, bani Quaesitor and ALEXANDER 
  BERTHOLD, bani Bonisagus are seated. Each wears a 
  purple mask. BERTHOLD reads a book in silence as the 
  other two converse quietly. 
  INGMAR: While I agree that the Pymandic Ideal is 
  an attainable goal, I must nevertheless defend my stance 
  that it is far more important, in the Initiate's earliest days, 
  as a symbol. 
  URSULA: It seems to me that such coddling is, in 
  great part, what has brought us to the difficulties we now 
  face. We allow our Apprentices far greater latitude to 
  pursue mundane concerns, rather than the all-important 
  pursuit of enlightenment. A worthy student rises to meet 
  the demands of the master. 
  INGMAR: (turning to BERTHOLD) Berthold, what 
  say you? 
  BERTHOLD sets his book down and opens his mouth 
  to speak. Suddenly, the door is kicked in, and a 
  VAMPIRE [in a red mask] and two GHOULs [each in a 
  red-streaked white mask] enter. GHOUL I unloads a full 
  magazine of ammunition from a sub-machine gun into 
  BERTHOLD. 
  Without 
  even 
  time 
  to 
  scream, 
  BERTHOLD dies. URSULA utters a few clipped 
  phrases in Enochian and thumbs a carnelian set in the 
  pendant around her neck. INGMAR, oblivious to the 
  bullet that strikes him in the shoulder, rushes to cradle 
  BERTHOLD's 
  body. 
  The 
  VAMPIRE 
  approaches 
  URSULA threateningly. 
  VAMPIRE: Stop! 
  But it is too late. The carnelian bursts outward, 
  releasing   a   bound   fire   spirit.     The   VAMPIRE 
  and   GHOULS   recoil,  bracing  for   what   promises  
  to   be   an   agonizing    death.    However,    just    as 
  the    elemental    expands    to    its   full   dimensions, 
  the  magic  lashes  back,  and  the  fires  flow  like  water 
  
   
  34        Blood Treachery 
  onto URSULA, clinging to her body as she thrashes and 
  screams. The GHOULS shoot at her, if only to throw her 
  burning body further away from them. Sensing the 
  commotion dimly, INGMAR turns to face the 
  VAMPIRE. 
  VAMPIRE: What is your Praxis? Who is your 
  Master? Speak! 
  INGMAR: (regaining his composure a bit) What are 
  you talking about? 
  VAMPIRE: Don't play games with me. To what 
  Pontifex do you owe fealty? 
  Taking everyone by surprise, burned beyond recog-
  nition, URSULA lunges tograppleGHOUL2'sankles. He 
  falls, discharging his shotgun into nearby GHOUL 1. 
  Sensing his opportunity, INGMAR shoulders past the 
  VAMPIRE and just manages to escape the room as shots 
  are fired after him. Disentangling himself from 
  URSULA'S frail grip and rising quickly, GHOUL 2 
  levels the barrel of his gun at her head and pulls the 
  trigger. He then moves for the door. 
  VAMPIRE: Quickly! After him! 
  Exit the VAMPIRE and GHOUL 2 in hot pursuit as 
  the lights dim. The lights then come up on the other side 
  of the stage as the sound of shots fades. Once again, 
  MARCUS' laboratory. The ELDER's head lolls. Nearly 
  insensate with pain, he wriggles weakly in his bonds. 
  MARCUS stands beside the table, setting the guillotine-
  like object aside with one hand and depositing the 
  ELDER's tongue on a metal tray nearby with tongs held 
  in the other. Several other "samples" -—fangs, bits of 
  skin, hair and tissue -- also lie on the tray. MARCUS 
  then removes a small hunk of tissue from the tray and 
  turns to a set of alchemical equipment. 
  MARCUS: (to the sample) What secrets do you 
  conceal? 
  MARCUS uses tongs to hold the sample over a wide-
  mouthed beaker, depressing the tongs to squeeze a few 
  drops of blood out of the cold flesh. 
  MARCUS: What more did Hortemone know that he 
  never put to paper? 
  MARCUS turns once more and holds the beaker up 
  to the light, rocking it in slow circles with his hand to 
  swirl the crimson fluid about. Suddenly, the ELDER 
  thrashes, startling MARCUS. MARCUS drops the 
  beaker, and it shatters. 
  MARCUS: Damnation! 
  MARCUS stoops down to pick up a few of the larger 
  shards. As he touches the third one, MARCUS hisses with 
  pain and draws back, standing to inspect his finger's where 
  he's  cut  it.   He watches, mesmerised, as a drop of the 
  dark, dead blood rolls into the furrow of the wound, and the 
  wound closes. He shudders as though from a lover's 
  touch. As the moment passes, MARCUS turns back to 
  the ELDER. The Tytalan rolls a tray next to the table 
  and places a shallow basin on the tray. MARCUS then 
  unshackles the ELDER's left hand and, holding him by 
  the forearm, forces the limb down to the basin. The 
  ELDER tugs once or twice and gives up, as MARCUS 
  takes a cleaver to the ELDER's right hand. 
  MARCUS: Yes... Hortemone's final secret... 
  The lights fade followed by a fleshy "thud" and a 
  quiet curse. A few seconds later, metal chimes on metal. 
  Across the stage, the illumination of a single nightlight 
  comes up. INGMAR crouches behind a metal counter in 
  a restaurant-style kitchen. Heavy breathing and the 
  rhythmic thumping of a heartbeat are audible. Even as 
  he clutches his wounded shoulder, INGMAR mutters a 
  simple Rote, and the breathing and heartbeat fall abso-
  lutely silent while light and darkness bend to obscure his 
  form slightly. Just then, the shadows of two pairs of feet 
  move across the slit of light beneath the double-doors. 
  The voices of the VAMPIRE and GHOUL 2 (from 
  earlier in the scene) are audible within. 
  VAMPIRE: Let's check it. 
  GHOUL: Now! 
  Each one kicks in a door, and both spray some 
  random gun/ire into the room. Although INGMAR 
  opens his mouth in a scream, his magic keeps the 
  attackers from noticing him. Both characters step fully 
  into the room as the doors swing shut. The VAMPIRE 
  sets his gun down on the countertop and flicks the light 
  switch. 
  GHOUL: It's almost exactly like one of ours. 
  VAMPIRE: You mean the fortress? 
  GHOUL: Yeah. I mean, bigger kitchen, but otherwise 
  pretty much like one of ours. 
  VAMPIRE: I guess so. Come on. 
  The VAMPIRE picks up his gun. Both turn and walk 
  out of the kitchen. 
  GHOUL: Nice kitchen, though. 
  The lights fall dim as INGMAR begins to shudder 
  uncontrollably with pent-up terror. On the other side of 
  the stage, the lights come up, revealing MARCUS, 
  holding the ELDER's arm — hand removed with two 
  messy chops and tossed aside — just over the shallow 
  metal basin. A thin sheen of dark blood has gathered in 
  the basin. Finally satisfied with the quantity, MARCUS 
  releases the ELDER's arm, picks up the basin, and turns 
  from the table. Setting the basin down for a moment, 
  MARCUS places a broad funnel into a slender vial and 
  pours the blood into it. When the thick, dark liquid 
  finally settles into the vial, there are perhaps two ounces 
  of it. 
  
   
   Act Two: Hidden War        35 
  MARCUS holds the vial reverently in both hands and 
  brings it close, that he might inspect it with mystic sight. 
  The deep redness in the vial reflects a pale shadow of the 
  same onto MARCUS' mask. 
  MARCUS: I can see it. I understand. 
  He raises the vial up to an overhead light, entranced 
  by what his Awakened perceptions reveal, casting a 
  darker redness onto his mask. 
  So beautiful. Hortemone spoke of the power of the 
  blood, true, but no words could describe this. The Tree 
  of Life. The Water of the Grail. Now, in this wine-dark 
  tempest of power, Caine, do I know you. You were the 
  first Tytalan. Strife... And Power. 
  His eyes unfocused as though in a religious ecstasy, 
  MARCUS tips back his head and drinks the contents of 
  the vial. Slowly, MARCUS' eyes flutter shut as he falls 
  to his knees, dragging a few papers and instruments off a 
  nearby tabletop while grabbing for support. Sighing with 
  satisfaction, MARCUS' head droops as all lights dim, 
  leaving only a spotlight focused on the mage. Striations 
  of red run down through his mask, leaching some of the 
  purple out of it. Time stops. The ORACLES enter, 
  stepping into the very fringes of the shaft of light. 
  FORCES: How could you, scion of He Who 
  Struggles? How could you surrender so easily to the 
  temptations that beset the Path of Thorns? The fire in 
  your blood races white-hot, and because of it, you cannot 
  sense the fire in your soul dying. 
  LIFE: I cannot bear to look at him. Life. Death. 
  Interwoven, married in a legacy of dark lust and 
  murderous betrayal. All else was the symptom; here is 
  the disease. 
  ENTROPY: No. More problems and worse assail the 
  Order than one, or even a handful of its own, marching 
  merrily unto annihilation. They are cracks in the pillar, 
  true, but not the only ones. 
  TIME: And yet, tomorrow remains unwritten. 
  PRIME: Are you saying there is hope, brother? 
  TIME remains silent. 
  MIND: Gaze upon him. How like Caine's his 
  exhilaration at the first true taste of murder. 
  SPIRIT: (to MARCUS) Listen! Do you not hear the 
  voice at your shoulder crying out to you? Look! Do you 
  not see the thousand hungry demons gathering to feast 
  on you? 
  CONNECTION: Drunk with power, his eyes are 
  blinded. His ears hear only what he wishes to hear. 
  MATTER: Let us hope that wiser spirits prevail to 
  navigate this sea of blood. 
  The ORACLES remain in a semicircle around 
  MARCUS, spotlight undimmed, as the lights come up 
  on the other half of the stage. INGMAR, a strip of cloth 
  tied crudely about his left shoulder, gun in hand, 
  crouches in what looks to be a basement book 
  depository. About 10 feet away, GHOUL I [previous 
  scene] lies torpid, impaled in 10 places by what appear 
  to be smashed pieces of chair propelled at great speeds. 
  It still bears signs of the shotgun blast that tore into it 
  earlier, as well. Slowly, INGMAR rises, apparently 
  satisfied that all is safe. As he does so, the gun passes 
  across a shaft of moonlight filtered in through a tiny 
  window, revealing Ars Essentia sigils of amplification 
  and fire hurriedly etched into the metal as if with a nail 
  or other improvised implement. INGMAR reaches the 
  door and steps out into the corridor. Never leaving the 
  other half of the stage, the ORACLES appear. 
  MIND: I can feel his hate. Where once was a gentle 
  scholar, here now is something else. 
  FORCES: Oh dear child of wisdom, why have you 
  put aside your book and staff to take up shield and 
  spear? 
  LIFE: And still, here comes something more for the 
  drama. Just beyond the next door. Undeath. 
  MATTER: Unlife. 
  Never seeing the ORACLES, INGMAR continues 
  toward the next door. 
  ENTROPY: It is too much to see! So many threads, 
  spiraling off into nothingness! 
  INGMAR steps through the door, followed by the 
  ORACLES. As the last of the ORACLES enter the next 
  stretch of corridor, the VAMPIRE and remaining GHO 
  UL turn the corner. Neither has a weapon at the ready. 
  Trembling with rage and anguish, INGMAR raises his 
  gun. Wisps of flames escape intermittently from the 
  barrel and no one moves. 
  CONNECTION: Forged of razored iron and 
  quenched in blood, I see the final thread racing to 
  connect them. 
  A shadow passes over INGMAR's mask as something 
  begins to die in his eyes. Resolutely, INGMAR takes 
  aim at the VAMPIRE, keeping the gun trained on its 
  head for a long moment. Then, the shadow subsides, and 
  the Bonisagus lowers his weapon. 
  INGMAR: A scholar... I am a scholar. 
  He drops the gun, and tears begin to run down his 
  mask. Both attackers stare for a moment, uncertain of 
  what to do. The GHOUL draws his gun, but does not 
  take aim. A long, tense silence ensues. Finally, the 
  VAMPIRE takes a step forward. 
  
   
  36        Blood Treachery 
  VAMPIRE: Why did you attack us? 
  INGMAR: I don't know why the Order attacked you, 
  and I wish to God we never had. I could give you the 
  official reasons. 
   
   
   
  A DOUBLE-EDGED SWORD 
   A little ignorance is a dangerous thing. A lot can be 
  deadly. 
  Just as the Order is scrambling to determine who the 
  Primi of the undead are and why exactly the Biblical 
  Methuselah figures so prominently into this demented 
  Cainie mythos, the vampires are  attempting to locate the 
  Order's supreme authority I and interrogating captured 
  Hermetics about their Circles, lineages and blood magic. 
  In short, neither side has a particularly good grasp on the 
  affairs of the other. Not anymore, anyway. 
  Certainly, the few survivors of the medieval House 
  Tremere have probably kept enough tabs to know a 
  zelator from a Magister Mundi. Lord Gilmore's 
  extensive research during his tenure at Mus has likely 
  kept him appraised of such important terminology as 
  Blood Oath and Lextalionis as well, but these bits of 
  knowledge are exceptions to the norm. It is to be 
  expected that the power players in their 1 respective 
  factions will wield more and more accurate information 
  than any chump in the trenches would. However, 
  knowledge is a valuable commodity both among the 
  Traditions and the undead. 
  Most educators on both sides are simply too young to 
  know many details about the Massasa War, the last big 
  chance for each side to size up the opposition's strengths 
  and weaknesses and discern crucial information about its 
  internal workings. Those who are of sufficient age and 
  knowledge are difficult to locate and often unwilling to 
  part with the key to such clout without suitable 
  Recompense. Bonisagus or vampire, it doesn't really 
  matter. Once you hit 500 years of age, the suffering of 
  the youth often seems a distant and Mot-too-pressing 
  tiling.  
  In short, it is highly unlikely that your Fortunae will 
  ever hear about any sorts of "clans" or "Disciplines," or 
  that your freshly turned vampire will ! ever find herself 
  in possession of a thorough and,, accurate history 
  detailing the previous incarnations of current-day House 
  Solificati. Ignorance and fear of the unknown started this 
  war, and more of the same contributes greatly to 
  sustaining it. 
  VAMPIRE: Save it. Living or dead, a few things 
  never change. The "official reason" is always bullshit to 
  justify someone's agenda. 
  GHOUL: (jokingly) Yeah, we don't know anything 
  about that sort of thing, do we? 
  The VAMPIRE chuckles grimly, shaking his head. 
  He then turns and begins to walk away, taking the 
  GHOUL with him. INGMAR continues to stand in place 
  as all lights around him dim, leaving only a spotlight 
  trained on him. The ORACLES approach and flank him 
  in the same manner as with MARCUS. 
  TIME: An instant suspended in time; perhaps a 
  glimmer of recognition, of forgiveness, of understand-
  ing. Who can say? But today, three have parted paths, 
  rather than two or one or none. The River of Yesterday 
  has given way to the dying Stream of Today. Who can 
  say how tomorrow travels? Who can say what the 
  unfolding of history will reveal over the next hill? Only 
  the Now is written and, today, it is penned with scholar's 
  ink and not spilt blood. 
  Darkness falls on both halves of the stage. 
   
  SCENE 7 
  A few torches light a large cabal of Hermetic mages 
  [all masked in purple] and their allies [masked in white], 
  weapons drawn. Many are clearly nervous, never having 
  fought in their lives. Signs of a struggle are barely 
  visible around them. 
  MAGE 1: Seems quiet. Be on your guard. 
  MAGE 2: You smell that? 
  MAGE 3: No, asshole. I'm immune to the stench of 
  death. 
  MAGE 1: Hold on, I'll give us some light. 
  MAGE I mutters an incantation. Light appears, and 
  with it several darkly garbed, red-masked strangers, most 
  of Middle Eastern extraction. They hold blades to all the 
  mages' throats. Here, a wall is swathed in blood; there, a 
  deep cut is seen in a desk. One of the strangers, with skin 
  like onyx, steps forward. 
  STRANGER: So, what have we here ? (His eyes 
  focus on one of the mages.) Not the bastard children of 
  my enemies, I see. I can feel your blood racing with fear. 
  Tell me, what brings you to this house of the dead? 
  MAGE 3: It's a God-damned vampire! Kill— 
  A blur of wind, a rustling of drapes and a disruption 
  of loose papers surrounds MAGE 3. The only motion 
  perceived, some 10 feet away, is one of the strangers 
  sheathing his knife. MAGE 3 's head slides off his body. 
  Papers settle. The other mages drop their offensive 
  stance. 
  
   
   Act Two: Hidden War        37 
  STRANGER: You came armed. Why? 
  MAGE 2: We... We came to kill the dead. The 
  Tremere. 
  STRANGER: I see. Know this, Wise One; this 
  journey is not yours alone. 
  Begins to walk away, fading from view a bit more 
  with each step. Other strangers follow suit. 
  Shall we then consider that (he gestures toward the 
  body of MAGE 3) fair recompense for your interference 
  in this matter and part in peace? 
  MAGE 2: Yes. 
  The STRANGER, now the last of the strangers visible, 
  finally fades from view, and a few lingering words echo 
  from unseen lips: 
  STRANGER: What is it that is said of my enemy's 
  enemy? 
   
  SCENE 8 
  The view turns to a candlelit room. A man, with a 
  bearded and careworn face, sits at a desk, calmly paging 
  through a book recently acquired from a raid on a 
  Hermetic Chantry as the sounds of distant fighting filter 
  in from beyond. A blast resounds, and the stone chamber 
  itself trembles for a moment, dislodging chips of rock 
  and a fine dusting of mortar. A frantic YOUNG 
  VAMPIRE in a red mask barges in. 
  YOUNG VAMPIRE: Councilor, we must take 
  action! 
  The man continues to read, looking up only after he 
  finishes the paragraph he is on. As his red-masked face 
  comes up fully into the light, the man is revealed as an 
  aged and weathered vampire, with an aquiline nose and 
  glum demeanor, one of the FORMER TREMERE. 
  FORMER TREMERE: Yes. I suppose we must. 
  YOUNG VAMPIRE: Excellent, Councilor. I will 
  summon the gargoyles and gather our other forces. 
  FORMER TREMERE: Of course. 
  YOUNG VAMPIRE: I go at once, then, Councilor. 
  Exit the YOUNG VAMPIRE. 
  FORMER TREMERE: We are thieves, liars and 
  kin-slayers all. I gave Mistridge over to the farmer's 
  pitchfork and the woodcutter's axe eight centuries ago 
  because I grew sick with the sight of pride. Eight 
  hundred years later, we are no different. A long time, 
  indeed, for wise men to remain foolish. The Art. The 
  Blood. Hubris. Selfishness. Nothing. 
  Horrid screams come from the courtyard below. First 
  one  voice,  then several,  raised   in   anguish.   There  is 
  another blast, this one lesser in intensity. Several more 
  cries of pain. The FORMER TREMERE's face takes on 
  a tormented aspect, as his sharpened senses take in every 
  rattle of pained breath, every grinding of bone on bone, 
  every quiet plea of the dying. 
  No. No more. Someone must defy this. I must reform 
  this Mistridge or die trying. 
  The FORMER TREMERE's consciousness reaches 
  out to every vampire in the chantry. 
  FORMER TREMERE: (tekpathically to all vam-
  pires and minions present) We are retreating. 
  Murmurs of shock and amazement ripple through the 
  FORMER TREMERE's mind and many stray thoughts 
  question his decision, citing superior numbers and the 
  advantage of familiar terrain. 
  Shall we then kill simply because we can? If it is 
  books and a crumbling keep they desire, they are wel-
  come to have mine. I will not waste further blood -and 
  risk further conflict — over yellowed parchment and a 
  handful of rough-hewn towers. 
  A VOICE protests. 
  VOICE: (telepathically to all vampires and minions 
  present) The elder will not be pleased. 
  All of the undead recoil from the forcefulness of 
  FORMER TREMERE's reply. 
  FORMER 
  TREMERE: 
  (telepathically 
  to 
  all 
  vampires and minions present) I will deal with the elder. 
  Withdraw. 
  Compelled by blood, fear and loyalty, all of the 
  vampires assent. Severing the contact, FORMER 
  TREMERE smiles faintly. 
  FORMER TREMERE: What now, elder? 
  Darkness falls on the stage as the sounds of fighting 
  grow fainter. As the last of the light vanishes, a grim but 
  sincere chuckle gives way to silence. 
   
  SCENE 9 
  A phone booth somewhere near the Swiss Alps. An 
  UNKNOWN PERSON in an overcoat and fedora is in 
  the midst of a conversation. Otherwise, the street is 
  empty. 
  UNKNOWN PERSON: (whispering hoarsely) Yes. 
  I would very much like to meet with you. Yes, of course. 
  I, too, believe that we might be able to assist one 
  another. Excellent... 
  The UNKNOWN PERSON shields his face with his 
  hand, as one might in bright sun, despite the lateness of 
  the hour, and looks about. Apparently contented with 
  whatever he does or does not see, he turns back into the 
  booth and lowers his head once more. 
  
   
  38        Blood Treachery 
  I understand your concerns. Rest assured, that was an 
  unfortunately necessary first step toward the initiation of 
  these talks. Oh, most assuredly... 
  Once more, the UNKNOWN PERSON raises his head 
  to look about. This time, he removes his hat for a 
  moment to wipe sweat from his brow with the back of his 
  sleeve, despite the chill in the air, revealing himself to be 
  MARCUS DE ALLEGRESSE. The striations in his mask 
  are the same size, but they are much more pale. Lines of 
  pink streak his otherwise purple mask. Quickly, he 
  replaces the hat and turns away. 
  I will be looking forward, then, to meeting with you 
  in person. I believe we will have a great deal indeed to 
  talk about. Yes. Two weeks, then. 
  MARCUS waits until he hears the other party hang 
  up, then squeezes the receiver until it splinters in his 
  hand. 
  Two weeks! Already, I can feel the strength fading! 
  (pause) But this must be a test. A trial. Remember, 
  Marcus; this power is an augmentation, a supplement, 
  not a substitute. Besides, it is only for the Order that you 
  do this at all. Soon enough, the need for all of this will 
  be over. Until then, perseverance... 
  MARCL/S walks away from the phone booth and 
  into the night, cinching the coat tightly around him and 
  ducking his head into the shadows of his hat. 
   
  SCENE 10 
  Two red-masked entities communicate on the Astrai 
  Plane. The first bears the distinctive mien of the 
  FORMER TREMERE. The second remains unknown. 
  MYSTERIOUS PRESENCE: What was the matter, 
  Councilor? You left Rome three years ago. Did you find 
  these accommodations unsatisfactory also? 
  FORMER TREMERE: No. Nothing was unsatis-
  factory with the chantry. 
  MYSTERIOUS PRESENCE: Why is it, then, that I 
  find myself holding this conversation with you? 
  FORMER TREMERE: We needed neither the 
  books nor the resources. There was nothing there that 
  could not be replaced. Indeed, we kept no resource there 
  that we do not maintain in a dozen places besides! 
  MYSTERIOUS PRESENCE: And so you do not 
  see the principle of the thing. 
  FORMER TREMERE: Principle? No, I am afraid 
  that I am indeed blind to the "principles" behind this 
  slaughter. I have never understood— 
  MYSTERIOUS PRESENCE: And you do not 
  understand now. Still, I am not without mercy. I am 
  offering you a chance. 
  FORMER TREMERE: Your beneficence astounds 
  me. What else were you going to do? Kill me? You did 
  that 800 years ago. I have not yet fallen down. 
  MYSTERIOUS PRESENCE: You would do well to 
  mind your tongue with me, Councilor. 
  FORMER TREMERE: I am not afraid anymore. 
  Not of death. Not of you. I fear only that it is too late for 
  me to appease the ghosts of the past and make this right. 
  MYSTERIOUS PRESENCE: Yet that is precisely 
  what I am offering you, Councilor. 
  FORMER TREMERE: What do you mean? 
  MYSTERIOUS PRESENCE: You will lead an 
  assault on the wizards' stronghold in London. Before you 
  interrupt, let me explain. You may handle this affair in 
  any fashion you see fit. If they surrender peacefully, you 
  may feel free to offer them a chance to end these 
  hostilities. 
  FORMER TREMERE: And if they do not 
  surrender? 
  MYSTERIOUS PRESENCE: Then you are to take 
  the location or destroy it. In any case, this battle will 
  decide our stance for the remainder of this war. 
  Congratulations, Councilor; you will be the only creature 
  in history to decide the fate of the Order of Hermes twice 
  in his lifetime. The first time, you laid it low. Mayhap 
  this time you will raise it up from its deathly slumber. 
  Now go. 
  The FORMER TREMERE is dismissed, his Astral 
  form receding from the MYSTERIOUS PRESENCE as 
  though compelled beyond his power. A 2nd PRESENCE, 
  veiled in the aether, steps out of Astral mists to present 
  itself before the MYSTERIOUS PRESENCE. It's mask is 
  similar in design. 
  2nd PRESENCE: Master, should we not monitor 
  him? It is dangerous enough to give him leave to plan 
  this matter himself. 
  MYSTERIOUS PRESENCE: No. He will attend 
  my will in this. He has to. He believes he can end this 
  war. Perhaps he is right. I've no wish to waste resources 
  on this inane conflict. His rebelliousness can be dealt 
  with later, if at all. His honest hatred is far more valuable 
  to me than one soul falsely devoted for every star in the 
  sky. 
  2nd PRESENCE: As you command, Master. 
  MYSTERIOUS PRESENCE: One last thing, my 
  valued companion. 
  2nd PRESENCE: Yes, Master? 
  MYSTERIOUS PRESENCE: Make the prepara-
  tions to wake me, should all else fail. 
  Darkness falls on the stage. 
  
   
   Act Two: Hidden War        39 
  SCENE 11 
  Night over the London Chantry of the Order of 
  Hermes. At first, all seems to be in order, but slowly, the 
  persistent observer begins to note the pinpricks in the 
  veils of illusion woven over the mighty conflict 
  unfolding within. As the view moves in through a 
  broken window, the glamour is fully penetrated and the 
  scene, in all its horror and mystic splendor, is revealed. 
  In the library, a red-masked VAMPIRE summons the 
  very 
  blood 
  out 
  of 
  a 
  purple-masked 
  Hermetic 
  APPRENTICE'S veins. Suddenly, he is stabbed with a 
  stake, graven with arcane sigils. He laughs only for a 
  moment at the white-masked CONSOR who missed his 
  heart, before the stake itself erupts into flames. In a 
  hallway across the Chantry, a small wyvern wraps its 
  sinewy coils about the massive frame of a GARGOYLE 
  in a gray mask, as mage and massasa assail one another 
  with powers spun from the elements themselves. Enter 
  into this chaos, in the central courtyard of the Chantry, 
  the Cabal of Bright Wisdom. 
  JOSIAH: (obviously near exhaustion) Has anybody 
  seen Master Prescott? 
  AURELIEN: Regrettably, I believe that she is 
  already dead. 
  JOSIAH: What about Master Be— 
  A nearby stone wall shatters, as the figure of 
  DARIEN VALLARD, bani Ex Miscellanea is hurled 
  backward through it. JOSIAH turns almost instantly and 
  begins to dash toward the man, who is slowly rising. A 
  VAMPIRE steps through the hole in the wall as 
  VALLARD rises to his feet. 
  JOSIAH: Master Vallard! 
  VALLARD: Stay back, child! I will handle this. 
  VALLARD incants a potent Ars Manium spell, and 
  the air between he and the VAMPIRE flares with 
  dangerous spiritual energies. The VAMPIRE counters 
  with his own invocation, calling upon the name of a yet 
  more powerful angelic entity. VALLARD replies in kind 
  as the two move to face one another in the center of the 
  courtyard. 
  EDWARD: Uh, guys, this doesn't sound very good. 
  AURELIEN: Those summonings should not be 
  intoned 
  without 
  proper 
  warding 
  and 
  hours 
  of 
  preparation! 
  PAUL: Shit! 
  PAUL dashes across the courtyard, just past 
  VALLARD, as a GARGOYLE, nearly invisible against 
  the slate wall, scrambles toward the Hermetic Master on 
  all fours. He intercepts the GARGOYLE, taking the 
  blow  meant  for  VALLARD.  PAUL  roars,  and  bones 
   
  
   
  40        Blood Treachery 
  crunch. The rest of the cabal watches, stunned, as the 
  enraged GARGOYLE throws the Flambeau, rather ac-
  cidentally, into the VAMPIRE across the courtyard to 
  get at VALLARD. 
  REBECCA: Paul! 
  The GARGOYLE strikes VALLARD, breaking his 
  concentration long enough for the VAMP/RE to attend to 
  PAUL. Hauling the Flambeau to his feet, even as the 
  cabal closes the gap, he speaks a few clipped phrases in 
  Latin, and PAUL begins to writhe in agony. PAUL looks 
  to his cabal as the GARGOYLE pummels VALLARD 
  mercilessly. 
  PAUL: Get the fuck back! 
  PAUL reaches into his coat, even as a froth of boiling 
  blood trickles from his nose and mouth, and a fine 
  crimson steam escapes his pores. Gritting his teeth in a 
  grim smile, PAUL steels his will and locks his arms 
  around the VAMPIRE's body, revealing a strange 
  Hermetic artifact, something like a spirit bottle with 
  arcane sigils and a captured presence, clenched firmly 
  in his right hand. Knowing only that something is very 
  wrong, having not seen the weapon, the VAMPIRE 
  releases PAUL from his grip and tries to push him away, 
  obviously surprised by the strength left in this broken 
  man. AURELIEN pulls REBECCA away, even as 
  EDWARD and JOSIAH move to aid VALLARD. 
  REBECCA: Oh God, no! PAUL!!! 
  PAUL's final smile, tender despite the pain, lingers in 
  the flash of an explosion. Nearest the blast, AURELIEN 
  and REBECCA are thrown to the ground, both with 
  minor bums from howling spirits released from the 
  bottle. Recoiling from the heat of the flames, the 
  GARGOYLE flees in primal terror. JOSIAH stoops down 
  to aid VALLARD. EDWARD turns to face AURELIAN 
  and REBECCA. 
  EDWARD: This is wrong. It can't be meant to be 
  like this. 
  REBECCA: It... no. Yes — but it's all wrong. Not 
  this way. Paul... 
  REBECCA turns and begins to cry, even as 
  AURELIEN holds her tightly. 
  JOSIAH: (rising from VALLARD's side and obvi-
  ously not looking at the smoking crater where Paul used 
  to be) Vallard's not as bad as he looks. He'll be fine, with 
  a little rest. Anybody else n— 
  MATTHEW enters the courtyard wearing a blood' 
  red mask. 
  EDWARD: Matthew, what - 
  From a set of double-doors slightly flanking MAT-
  THEW, several vampires and their servitors emerge, 
  leveling weapons and focusing deadly enchantments at the 
  cabal. As  the  vampires  discharge  their  armaments at the 
  Cabal of Bright Wisdom, JOSIAH lets out a scream of 
  rage, anguish and desperation, a scream echoed audibly 
  by his Avatar. Threads of raw magic lash out, grabbing 
  hold of the strands of the Ars Manium enchantments still 
  hanging heavily in the air, and the air itself is rent 
  asunder in a halo of blazing light. Bullets melt in midair, 
  Thaumaturgical spells erode under the unassailable 
  power spilling forth from the breach. As the curtain of 
  light dims, only slightly, the warrior form of Archangel 
  Michael hovers over the combatants. Vampires shriek in 
  pain as the Archangel's blazing mantle sears them. Only 
  MATTHEW, brilliant red tears of pain flowing down his 
  cheeks, stands in place, a fine smoke rising from his 
  unliving form. Archangel Michael continues to burn 
  brightly, knowing only that he must cleanse, unaware of 
  the drama below. 
  REBECCA: We've got to help him... 
  EDWARD: Matthew! 
  MATTHEW: (whimpering) I'm burning... 
  Behind MATTHEW, the light begins to distort, re-
  fracted by unknown magic. A figure materializes within 
  the shifting globe of shade and steps forward to embrace 
  MATTHEW like a son as he slowly crumbles to dust. As 
  the gray cloud of powder floats on the breeze, some of it 
  sticks to the bloody tears at the comers of the unknown 
  figure's eyes. As the man looks up, the bearded face of 
  the FORMER TREMERE comes into the light, 
  somehow unharmed by Michael's solar radiance. 
  FORMER TREMERE: Save your tears for your-
  selves, Children of Magic. Your friends are beyond pain 
  now. 
  AURELIEN: Who are you? 
  FORMER TREMERE: I am a ghost of the past, 
  haunting the present. I am no one, and thus I cannot 
  make this madness end. And so I turn to you who can. 
  JOSIAH: Us? We have no power to stop this... 
  FORMER TREMERE: You hold tomorrow in your 
  hand, child; nothing is beyond you. That is your magic. 
  Now leave this doomed place. We will destroy it rather 
  than let you keep it. 
  REBECCA: Why would you help us? 
  FORMER TREMERE: Ask the peasants of 
  Mistridge, child. 
  EDWARD: Wait... you're — we can help— 
  FORMER TREMERE: I am a walking corpse. I am 
  a man 800 years dead. Do not concern yourself with who 
  I am — who I was. Save yourselves, children; you are 
  the future. Only life begets life, and those who steer your 
  Order down this path are no more alive in their hearts 
  than I. 
  
   
   Act Two: Hidden War        41 
  The walls around the courtyard begin to fall and rain 
  debris. The FORMER TREMERE begins to fade away. 
  REBECCA: What do we do? 
  FORMER TREMERE: Save your Mistridge, child. 
  Save your Order from itself. 
  The FORMER TREMERE disappears, but not before 
  sending a wave of force outward to destroy a nearby 
  wall. With nothing left to say and the place coming 
  down around 
  them, the survivors of the Cabal of Bright Wisdom pick 
  up the unconscious VALLARD and run through the 
  breach made for them. Gas mains beneath the Chantry 
  detonate, sending ribbons of flame to twist briefly in the 
  night air and vanish. The cabal flees the scene, as the 
  London Chantry collapses in flames. Those mages and 
  vampires who could not escape in time lend their voices 
  to the Chantry, screaming out its demise, as the stage 
  falls dark, like a dying ember. 
  
   
   
  
   
  Act Three:: Blood Treachery        43 
   
   
   
   
  SCENE 1 
  The ashes of the Exeter Chantry in Lon-
  don. Police tape wards off the curious. An 
  errant breeze drags a sheet of newspaper 
  through the charred remains, smearing with 
  soot the headline "GAS MAIN EXPLO-
  SION DESTROYS BUILDING, KILLS 
  DOZENS." Picking their way through the 
  ruins, the ORACLES enter. 
  ENTROPY: The pendulum swings wildly. On this 
  hand, forgiveness and redemption; on the other, naught 
  but dust and ashes. 
  FORCES: Now that the conflagration has died 
  down, I see with clearer sight that the elusive glimmer of 
  hope, that rarest and most wondrous of lights, remains. 
  SPIRIT: Speak not so soon, Brother. From where I 
  stand, this place echoes only with the mournful sighs of 
  the dead.  
   
   
   
   
   
  CONNECTION: And yet it cannot be argued that 
  this caused ripples that may yet herald the dawn of 
  something better. 
  TIME: Or something far worse. 
  A powerful wind, swirling upward, carries soot into 
  the air in a great column. The black dust is whipped 
  about, obscuring all light. Quickly, it settles into an' 
  other scene, forming shadows where it falls thickly and 
  casting a grayish pall upon all else. The ORACLES, 
  untouched by the ashes, maintain their places and 
  observe as MARCUS DE ALLEGRESSE sits down at a 
  table in an elegant Swiss estate with a HANDSOME 
  MAN in a red mask. 
  HANDSOME MAN: Master De Allegresse, we are 
  duly honored by your decision to meet with us. 
  MARCUS: You seem to know my name, sir, but I 
  must ask you now who it is I am addressing... 
  HANDSOME MAN: I am no one in particular, 
  Master  De  Allegresse.   I  am  simply  here  to  act  as  a  
   
   
  
   
  44        Blood Treachery 
  facilitator for parties above me who do not wish to meet 
  with you as yet. At least, not until the sincerity of your 
  intentions is determined. 
  MARCUS: Fair enough. Is there at least something I 
  might call you? 
  HANDSOME MAN: Call me James, if you need a 
  name. 
  MARCUS: Very well then. Shall I be bluntly honest 
  with you, James? 
  HANDSOME MAN: If it pleases you. 
  MARCUS: I am here to continue the relationship 
  forged by Master Klaus Hortemone some decades past. 
  As your people are undoubtedly aware by now, he has 
  met with an unfortunate end. 
  HANDSOME MAN: Yes. We gathered as much 
  from his abrupt disappearance. But what do you mean by 
  "continuing the relationship"? 
  MARCUS: I wish to maintain the exchange of goods 
  and services he established. 
  HANDSOME MAN: You will, of course, under-
  stand if we are a bit leery of continuing to trade 
  information with you, now that we are at war. 
  MARCUS: I am not referring to the trade of 
  information, although that will certainly be a facet of 
  these dealings. 
  HANDSOME MAN: Information was the extent of 
  our— 
  MARCUS: Please, James. I am not so ignorant of 
  these matters as you might think. I am aware that Master 
  Hortemone was providing information and magical 
  assistance to powerful associates of yours in return for 
  access to certain of your mystic texts and a monthly 
  allotment of vampiric blood. 
  MIND: (Unheard, to MARCUS) Oh, you proud fool! 
  Full of bluster and confidence, so certain that the Order 
  must emerge victorious, you do not perceive the spider's 
  web, even as you abide in his den. 
  MARCUS: We will, naturally, require a greater 
  quantity of the blood to fill more cups than Hortemone's, 
  but we can promise you that actions will be taken to 
  provide you with leniency from the Order's vengeance. 
  TIME: He has draped the chains about himself. His 
  doom is at hand. 
  MIND: Witness, the demon plays his ruse. I hear the 
  venom in his thoughts, and I see him lashing out at the 
  proud Master with tendrils of deception. 
  HANDSOME MAN: I do not wish to give you the 
  impression that we are weak or in need of your charity, 
  Master De Allegresse. 
  MARCUS: Of course. 
  HANDSOME MAN: However, such a drawn-out 
  conflict could tax the resources of both of our factions 
  needlessly. Naturally, I will need to speak to my 
  superiors on the matter, but I believe that we might be 
  amenable to this arrangement, should you be absolutely 
  certain that you can divert the wrath of the Order from 
  us. Although the blood is precious to us, I doubt that our 
  leaders will be averse to providing you with a small 
  amount. 
  MARCUS: James. James. I think that we of the 
  Order will need more than just a small amount of this 
  blood. We are offering you a chance for survival. Do 
  you not consider that chance to be worth more than the 
  meager trickle you are proposing? 
  HANDSOME MAN: That is not mine to decide, 
  Master De Allegresse. I am merely the messenger. That 
  said, I shall convey your message to my masters. 
  MARCUS: Excellent, (rises to his feet and shakes 
  the HANDSOME MAN's hand) I look forward to 
  hearing from you soon, James, and I thank you for your 
  time. 
  HANDSOME MAN: And I look forward to speak-
  ing with you soon, Master De Allegresse. Once again— 
  although, I am but the messenger — I am certain that 
  this is the beginning of a very beneficial relationship for 
  both your Order and us. 
  MARCUS departs, escorted to the door by a 
  BUTLER in a red-streaked white mask. Some time after 
  his departure, another SERVANT [masked similarly] 
  enters the room and speaks to the HANDSOME MAN. 
  SERVANT: Call for you, Milord. 
  HANDSOME MAN: I'll take it in here. 
  SERVANT: Did all go as expected, Sir? 
  HANDSOME MAN: Without a hitch. Tell the others 
  to put off that new candidate; I shall need the blood for 
  something else, I suspect. 
  SERVANT: Very good, Mr. Diamond. I'll fetch you 
  the phone. 
  The SERVANT leaves the room, and darkness 
  spreads like a stain, devouring the light. 
   
  SCENE 2 
  A single shaft of light shines on the stage. MARCUS 
  DE ALLEGRESSE sits within it, in the Order's Quebec 
  Chantry. Several vials of blood rest in notches in the 
  thick padding inside a heavy briefcase at his side. He 
  speaks on the phone and pauses occasionally to hear 
  replies from the party on the other end of the line. 
  MARCUS:   Yes,  David, that's right. Yes. Yes. No 
  risks  are  involved.   You  could  practically  see the fear in 
  
   
   Act Three: Blood Treachery        45 
  his eyes. They would have parted with 10 times the 
  quantity I demanded if they had believed it the only way 
  to end the Wizards' March. What? That's because 
  Hortemone was a shortsighted fool. I understand all 
  these concerns. Of course. Try it once for yourself. 
  That's all I ask. 
  The light goes down on that part of the stage, with 
  MARCUS' voice fading away slowly. As that light dims, 
  another shaft of illumination comes up elsewhere on the 
  stage. Adeptus DAVID GRAHAM, bani Tytalus, talks 
  with his Apprentice, GREGORY REEVE. DAVID 
  wears a purple mask that is streaked with red; 
  GREGORY wears an unblemished purple mask. 
  DAVID: That is why, of all my Apprentices, I chose 
  you, Gregory, to be a part of this secret organization 
  within the House. Do you accept? 
  GREGORY: But the massasa, Pater? Doesn't this 
  seem excessive? 
  DAVID: Surely, you can see that this a trial,' 
  Gregory? The powers this elixir imparts will make you a 
  greater force within the House, the Order and the 
  Traditions. We need your strength, Gregory. And we 
  need you to challenge yourself to be stronger. Isn't that 
  what you asked me to help you to realize within yourself 
  when you joined the House? 
  DAVID holds up a vial, and GREGORY takes it 
  hesitantly. 
  GREGORY: Yes, but I- 
  DAVID: I know you can handle the power, Gregory. 
  I trained you well enough for this and any power. I know 
  that you will do the right thing. 
  GREGORY raises the vial and, with a nod from his 
  pater, uncorks it. Darkness falls on that spotlight, as 
  another comes up on the Moscow Chantry. VLADMIR 
  BOLESLAV and MARIA DEL FUEGO -- both of 
  House Tytalus, and both wearing purple masks — con-
  verse. They await the arrival of another anxiously. 
  MARIA: My investigations into this conspiracy 
  within the House are revealing some unsettling facts. 
  VLADIMIR: Yes. Necromancy. Vampirism. And 
  still other rumors, each less pleasant than the last. I even 
  heard that the last Criamon who snapped out of his coma 
  grew fangs and screamed in Sanskrit for blood before 
  killing two custos and escaping. Perhaps the conspirators 
  had something to do with this unfortunate, as well. 
  MARIA: Hopefully, Magister Rossi will be able to 
  shed some light on all of this for us. He told me that he 
  had found new evidence for the Quaesitori. 
   
  
   
  46        Blood Treachery 
   
  VLADIMIR: Good. It's about time that someone got 
  to the bottom of— 
  Suddenly, the door opens and ANGELO ROSSI, bani 
  Tytalus, enters the study, finishing off the last of a glass 
  of white wine as he does so. He sets the glass down on 
  the mantle and turns to face the two younger mages. His 
  purple mask is streaked with dim red lines. 
  ANGELO: We do not have much time to speak. I 
  believe that Velasquez is involved and that he is having 
  me watched. 
  MARIA: Tomas Velasquez? 
  ANGELO: The same. Come, I will take you to my 
  Sanctum. 
  ANGELO inspects the room quickly as VLADIMIR 
  and MARIA move for the door. Just as the two younger 
  Tytalans pass him, ANGELO draws two guns from hol-
  sters  at  the  small  of  his  back.   As  the  light  begins 
  to   fade   there   and   come  up  elsewhere   on   the 
  stage,   ANGELO  levels  a  barrel  each  at  
  VLADIMIR   and   MARIA's   heads.     As   the   
  Athens Chantry is fully illuminated, twin gunshots sound  
   
  out from the darkness newly fallen on Moscow. In 
  Athens, THEOPHILUS MARLOWE, bani Tytalus, 
  slowly stirs brandy from a decanter into a small glass, 
  half-filled with a thick red liquid. GISELLE VAN 
  SANT, also of House Tytalus, enters the room, empty 
  glass in hand. Both characters' masks are purple, 
  streaked with red. 
  GISELLE: That's vile, Marlowe. 
  THEOPHILUS: You're right, Giselle. This is much 
  worse than choking down the blood of an ambulatory 
  corpse straight up. Sorry, I don't really relish that 
  "morning after getting punched in the nose" taste. 
  GISELLE: I'll give you that. But still — brandy? 
  THEOPHILUS: I'm sure as hell not going to chase it 
  with a beer. And I refuse to shoot it up like some kind of 
  Ecstatic junkie. This isn't smack, after all. (He downs his 
  glass.) So, how long 'til everyone gets back? 
  GISELLE: I figure they'll be gone until at least eight 
  o'clock. Probably later. 
  THEOPHILUS: Good, I'm getting another. You 
  want one?  
  
   
   Act Three: Blood Treachery        47 
  GISELLE: Maybe in a minute. (THEOPHILUS looks 
  at her with friendly mock scorn.) Oh, all right. But just 
  one more. For both of us. Understand? One. 
  THEOPHILUS nods and departs, laughing. The 
  scene freezes in place, and the lights come up on 
  Moscow, with two still bodies lying in pools of their own 
  blood. In another shaft of light, suspended in time, 
  DAVID GRAHAM stands with an empty vial in his 
  hand while GREGORY REEVE leans against a nearby 
  desk for support. GREGORY'S mask now shows livid 
  red streaks. Another spotlight shines on the Ontario 
  Chantry, where LILLIAN DUPUIS receives her 
  induction into House Tytalus from her mater, DAHLIA 
  WALSINGHAM. DAHLIA and LILLIAN both wear 
  purple masks. DAHLIA's mask shows red streaks. 
  DAHLIA: And do you, Initiate, pledge your life in 
  service to House Tytalus, to the Order of Hermes and to 
  the Council of the Nine Mystic Traditions? 
  LILLIAN: I do, Magistra. 
  DAHLIA holds aloft a chalice, offering it to the four 
  directions and calling upon the names of the Archangels 
  as she does so. 
  DAHLIA: With this cup, then, I draw the Blood of 
  Sacrifice out of the Well of Knowledge and offer it to 
  you. 
  LILLIAN accepts the chalice and drinks deeply, her 
  eyes betraying only a hint of distaste at the flavor. 
  Tipping back her head, LILLIAN empties the cup of its 
  contents, handing it back to DAHLIA as she closes her 
  eyes and licks the crimson stain from her lips. Livid red 
  streaks through the purple of her mask as well. Time 
  stops and the light comes up once more on MARCUS 
  DE ALLEGRESSE, yet again on the phone. 
  MARCUS: This is best explained in the flesh, 
  Johann. No. Just meet me at the Amsterdam Chantry. 
  What? Yes. The utmost secrecy. Hmm? I don't care how 
  you explain it, just make it plausible. We don't need 
  anybody looking into this. Very good. Three days. 
  MARCUS also stops in time, in the middle of hanging 
  up the phone. All five spotlights sputter slowly. They bum 
  dimmer, then reddish, and then die away altogether. 
   
  SCENE 3 
  The Traditions Chantry in Cambridge, Massachusetts. A 
  general clamor. MICHAEL SOERING, bani Euthanatos, is 
  pointing at PETER HAG UE, bani Fortunae, and Celling in 
  an accusatory tone. Each interrupts the other frequently. 
  LYNDON SMYTHE, a powerful Bonisagus, sits as a 
  mediator.    Many   other   mages,   including   
  AUGUSTUS PEMBROKE,   bani   Tytalus,   are in   atten-
  dance.  Every mask is plain purple  save for one  worn  by a 
  nameless HERMETIC who stands back and watches. 
  His mask is streaked with red. 
  MICHAEL: It was a fucking vampire, Hague, and it 
  demanded to know where the Hermetics were. It was 
  practically on your street. 
  PETER: Yes, we've been over this. 
  MICHAEL: Don't get flippant with me, Hague; I'm 
  burying two friends next Tuesday because of your shit-
  sucking vampire. All I want to know is— 
  LYNDON: Order! 
  MICHAEL: What's your problem? 
  Voices are raised, and the assembly disintegrates into 
  a shouting match. Finally, when it seems that the original 
  point is hopelessly lost, a single voice resounds 
  powerfully above the din. 
  AUGUSTUS: Enough.' 
  The upraised voices die down and not a few upraised 
  fists are lowered. All eyes regard AUGUSTUS. 
  This is lunacy. You (points at LYNDON) are divid-
  ing the Traditions to keep a secret we no longer have any 
  right to keep. People are dying, Smythe, and not just our 
  people anymore. What is won if we preserve the Order 
  today, only to sunder the Traditions tomorrow, and fall 
  alone, drawn too thin across the many fronts of our 
  battlefield, the day after? It's best to cut out the sickness 
  now. 
  MICHAEL: (to LYNDON and PETER) What is he 
  talking about? 
  AUGUSTUS: I'm saying that the Order of Hermes is 
  concealing a dire threat to our world and to our Nine 
  Traditions, and that I will no longer stand for it. 
  LYNDON: Mind your tongue, Adeptus. 
  AUGUSTUS: I'll do no such thing. If you've a mind 
  to challenge me to certamen, old man, remember that I 
  received my instruction at the hands of Lord Edward 
  Gilmore and that I survived the fall of Mus. When was 
  the last time you were out of your lab, Smythe? 
  The Bonisagus falls silent. 
  MICHAEL: What's this all about, Augustus? 
  AUGUSTUS: In its most basic sense, this is about an 
  800-year-old war with a sect of vampires that has roots 
  within the Order of Hermes. I suspect it was one of those 
  vampires, or one of their many pawns, who killed your 
  friends. But beyond that — deeper beneath the obvious 
  meanings of this confrontation -- is a crucible wherein 
  the unity of the Traditions is being tested. Our very 
  worthiness   to   survive   is   being   challenged.   And 
  we     are    failing   that   test.     We're   failing   because 
  
   
  48        Blood Treachery 
  of our petty divisions, our lack of trust and our insistence 
  on these narcissistic inter-Tradition politics. But here, 
  now, today, we're failing because the Order of Hermes is 
  purposefully dividing all of you so that no one bothers to 
  look for our hand in this carnage. We are threatening the 
  very unity we set out to create 500 years ago for the sake 
  of passing the buck. 
  Time stops and the ORACLES appear. 
  TIME: Here now is the turning point. 
  MIND: Founded in idealism and nearly drowned in a 
  Promethean lie that even they have begun to believe, 
  some few are beginning to penetrate the illusion. 
  ENTROPY: I cannot say whence it moves, but the 
  Wheel of Fortune — nearly ground to a halt for the 
  venerable Order — has begun to move once more. 
  TIME: Bear witness, Brothers and Sisters. Attend! 
  Even now there is a viper in House of Hope. 
  Time moves again, with AUGUSTUS beginning to 
  rail passionately about inter-Tradition unity and hope 
  for victory in the Ascension War. As he does so, the 
  HERMETIC with red streaks in his purple mask breaks 
  away from the group and dials JOHANN KURTZWElL's 
  number on his cellular phone. 
   
  SCENE 4 
  A quiet alley, lit only by a quarter-moon. JOHANN 
  KURTZWEIL is smoking a cigarette. The large, red 
  streaks in his mask stand out against the purple. After a 
  few minutes of JOHANN repeatedly checking his watch, 
  AUGUSTUS steps into the alley. 
  AUGUSTUS: What cloak-and-dagger bullshit have 
  you called me here for, Kurtzweil? 
  JOHANN: Please, Adeptus Pembroke, the matter I 
  need to discuss with you is of the utmost significance. I 
  must make you an offer. You will receive this offer only 
  once. (He withdraws a slender glass vial from his coat 
  pocket.) Inside, you will discover a small quantity of 
  vampiric blood. If you were to consume it — and you 
  continued to do so regularly — you would find yourself 
  immortal, capable of feats beyond the ken of ordinary 
  men, Sleeper or otherwise, and party to a secret and elite 
  brotherhood within House Tytalus. 
  As AUGUSTUS accepts the vial at arm's length, 
  JOHANN's eyes dart nervously upward. AUGUSTUS 
  drops the vial, and it breaks. The sound draws 
  JOHANN's gaze back instantly. 
  JOHANN: No! 
  With seeming ^recognition, AUGUSTUS dives to one 
  side as KURTZWEIL stumbles forward, toward the small 
  pool of blood soaking into the garbage underfoot. A 
  muffled gunshot narrowly misses AUGUSTUS' head 
  and blasts through JOHANN's knee. AUGUSTUS rolls 
  onto his back and JOHANN pitches forward , 
  suppressing a scream . AUGUSTUS, sigil of Solomon 
  already in hand, releases a peal of flame into the white-
  masked SNIPER overhead. The SNIPER plummets from 
  the roof to impact noisily with a fire escape landing. 
  AUGUSTUS jumps up and begins to run from the alley , 
  dialing a number from the memory of his cellular phone 
  as he does so. 
  AUGUSTUS: Julian, now! 
  A black Ford Fairlane plows through its veil of 
  invisibility , screeching to a stop in front of the alley . 
  JULIAN ST. GERMAINE, a devilishly handsome 
  Ecstatic in a bright purple mask, leans over to open the 
  front passenger door as AUGUSTUS dives for the 
  vehicle. The scene leaves the groaning KURTZWEIL in 
  the alley as AUGUSTUS departs with JULIAN. 
  JULIAN: Are you all right? 
  AUGUSTUS: Better than all right. I've cracked the 
  first layer of this conspiracy. Call the rest of the cabal; 
  this is going to get dangerous. 
  Darkness falls as the car squeals around a corner and 
  disappears into the night. 
   
  SCENE 5 
  MARCUS DE ALLEGRESSE alone , speaking on 
  the phone in a darkened room. On the wall, shadows 
  play unnaturally, mocking a battle between Traditions 
  and vampires . 
  MARCUS: Yes, that's right. There will be a Flam-
  beau strike team and a team of custos led by Kurtzweil. 
  There will be a few others on the outside, but they'll be 
  of no consequence. What else do you need to know? I 
  thought Johann apprised you of most of this. 
  MARCUS looks up, his features draicm and haggard. 
  He dabs his forehead with a handkerchief, listening to 
  the party on the other end of the line . 
  Are you intending to kill them? This is not part of the 
  deal! 
  Suddenly, MARCUS cramps up, doubling over and 
  clutching at his stomach. With trembling hand, he pulls a 
  small metal flask out of his robes and unscrews the cap, 
  dabbing a tiny crimson drop onto his tongue and 
  swallowing with a shudder. His breathing is wet and 
  ragged. Although he recaps the flask, MARCUS does 
  not put it away. Some of the streaks in his mask become 
  a darker red. 
  Yes. You're right. I suppose we can afford to lose a 
  few. But only a few. 
  
   
   Act Three: Blood Treachery        49 
   
  BREAKING BREAD WITH FIENDS 
   
  Let it never be said that the Order of Hermes in 
  general, and House Tytalus in particular, wastes any 
  useful resource. Ever since the early days of the Massasa 
  War, the generals of the Order have maintained a 
  tenuous relationship with a few vampire allies of their 
  own. Hatred shared, after all, sometimes makes for 
  strange alliances, and the Carpathian fiends know how to 
  hold a grudge like a Hermetic. 
  Indeed, some Tytalans find much to admire in this 
  vile and sinister family of massasa. Vampires are 
  monstrous, to be sure, but a few cultivate that 
  monstrousness with precision, discipline and restraint — 
  honorable characteristics in either man or night devil. 
  Like Tytalans, they understand the ideology of-total war, 
  and they are studious and noble besides (in their own 
  dark way). Many of the elders and a handful of the youth 
  are also capable sorcerers, trafficking with spirits and 
  rousing the elements with the familiarity of those who 
  understand and appreciate the subtle nuances of true 
  power. 
  Of course, a few Tytalans have gone off to break 
  bread with the undead and never returned. Many likely 
  violated some arcane stricture of proper etiquette 
  observed by the bloodsuckers and paid for the error with 
  their blood. Others were possibly taken by one or mort 
  of the monsters that lurk within the vampires' decrepit 
  palaces. Some few could have fallen under the 
  dangerous fetters of the Blood Oath, the administration 
  of which is seen as an art form among many of the older 
  undead. Others could have keen ambushed by enemy 
  warlocks along the way or killed by the elements in the 
  often isolated arid forlorn places where the eldest undead 
  typically lair. 
  Still, these dangers have not proven sufficient to 
  dissuade certain Masters within the house from training 
  an Apprentice or two every generation to keep company 
  with monsters in the pursuit of a mutual Vendetta. 
  Perhaps now — with large-scale aggressions against the 
  renegade warlocks resurrected after centuries of 
  neglecting the initial declaration of Wizards' March — 
  the wisdom of such Masters will be made apparent, and 
  their alliance with the fiends become accepted among 
  the Houses of Hermes. 
  If such is the case, God have mercy on every soul in 
  the Order. 
  SCENE 6 
  The burning ruins of a vampiric haven. An elegantly 
  attired CARPATHIAN VAMPIRE in a deep red mask 
  speaks cordially with a TYTALAN MASTER in a 
  heavily streaked purple mask, as a terrible wailing ema-
  nates from the shadows beyond the fire's light. Visible 
  are several purple-masked HERMETICS, most of whom 
  are plainly horrified. 
  CARPATHIAN: Now that our business here is 
  complete, Magister, I will order the packs to withdraw. 
  TYTALAN: Have you the books you require? 
  CARPATHIAN: Yes, my mistress will be most 
  pleased. These usurpers are useful for their blood-
  witchery if nothing else. 
  A FORTUNAE drags a completely hysterical 
  QVAESITOR away from the rubble of the Chantry and 
  past the conversing pair. 
  QUAESITOR: Devoured! Oh, Holy God, it was... it 
  was/.. I can still hear him screaming! 
  FORTUNAE: (to the TYTALAN) What does she 
  mean by "devoured"? (glancing at the CARPATHIAN) 
  What kind of monsters are we dealing with? 
  CARPATHIAN: (to the TYTALAN) It is plain that 
  we are not wanted here, Magister, so we shall depart. My 
  mistress sends her regards and wishes me to inform you 
  that knight takes rook. She looks forward to your next 
  move. 
  The CARPATHIAN bows low to the TYTALAN 
  with preternatural grace and turns — with a smile and a 
  nod to the FORTUNAE — to walk away. The scene falls 
  dark with the FORTUNAE screaming at the TYTALAN, 
  who chops the air with his hand and departs in another 
  direction. He leaves the young Numismancer to cradle 
  the trembling QVAESITOR. 
   
  SCENE 7 
  An apartment in Boston. AUGUSTUS PEMBROKE 
  sits across a spacious parlor from the remaining 
  members of the Cabal of Bright Wisdom. AUGUSTUS' 
  own cabal, the Seekers of Unity, stands a careful watch. 
  REBECCA: But that still doesn't explain why you've 
  asked us to come here. 
  AUGUSTUS: Because you are the cabal who was 
  there for the beginning, and you stand a much better 
  chance of making it into Horizon alive right now than I 
  do. 
  AURELIEN: Horizon? Whatever would we be doing 
  there? 
  
   
  50        Blood Treachery 
  AUGUSTUS: You would be attached to the group 
  escorting the captured massasa before the Council of 
  Nine — or what is left of the Council, in any case. 
  JOSIAH: Captured mossosa? Council of Nine? 
  AUGUSTUS: Yes. The Nine Traditions intend to get 
  to the bottom of this ridiculous shit, and enough people 
  know enough now that the Hermetic high rollers can't 
  bury the issue in red tape. 
  REBECCA: But why do we have to be there? 
  AUGUSTUS: Because the man who captured this 
  vampire — who will undoubtedly go to Horizon with it 
  once he discovers that Lord Gilmore is moving his 
  captive there — is part of a secret faction within House 
  Tytalus that is consuming vampire blood for the power it 
  apparently bestows. His name's Johann Kurtzweil. 
  AURELIEN: You mean Master De Allegresse's 
  aide? 
  AUGUSTUS: Yes, the second of the man who 
  argued so eloquently for the renewal of Wizards' March. 
  A man who is using this slaughter to feed his unnatural 
  hunger. 
  EDWARD: We should tell— 
  AUGUSTUS: Tell no one! Not your mentors. Not 
  your Chantry mates. Not even Lord Gilmore. I tried to 
  root out this conspiracy on my own, and members of my 
  own house tried to kill me. If you want to live, make sure 
  the truth reveals itself. Have it happen in a public place 
  and in a way that cannot be traced back to you. You will 
  be less likely to wake up to the barrel of a gun in your 
  face. 
  REBECCA: How are we supposed to do that? 
  AUGUSTUS: You're Hermetics, Rebecca; think of 
  something. You wouldn't have come this far if you 
  lacked intellect and cunning. Consider it a challenge. 
  JL/LIAN ST. GERMAINE enters from the bedroom. 
  JULIAN: Augustus, we've got three or four minds, 
  very aggressive, coming this way. I think they're 
  vampires. 
  AUGUSTUS: Thanks, Julian, (turns back to the 
  Cabal of Bright Wisdom) They're probably here for us 
  but, all the same, we'll guard your departure. Get to the 
  Gediz Caves and meet up with Lord Gilmore's contin-
  gent there. I've already secured you a place in the 
  entourage. The fewer people you talk to and the fewer 
  stops you make en route, the better. 
  REBECCA: I don't know what to say, Mr. 
  Pembroke. 
  AUGUSTUS:   Then  don't waste time thinking 
  about  it.     You're  going  to  have  a  hard  enough  time 
  figuring out how to pull our asses out of the fire, Ms. 
  Mitsotakai. We're fighting a war against a cancer within 
  our very Order, a cancer that seems to have the upper 
  hand. We'll do what we can here, but it will be for 
  nothing if you can't pull off your end on Horizon. 
  JOSIAH: Will all of you be all right? 
  AUGUSTUS: (smiles wickedly) Against four vam-
  pires? When I die, I intend for it to be at the hands of a 
  real enemy. I'll contact you when you get back from 
  Horizon. Now go. 
  The mages of the Cabal of Bright Wisdom depart 
  swiftly as AUGUSTUS readies his magic and the Seekers 
  of Unity slowly file out of the apartment to intercept the 
  approaching threat. 
   
  SCENE 8 
  MIGUEL CORDOVERA sits in a dank, windowless 
  cell. He wears a very pale red mask. Although his body 
  shows no sign of injury, his robes show the evidence of a 
  shotgun blast. With a rusty squeak of protest, a key turns in 
  the ancient lock and JOHANN KURTZWEIL enters the 
  chamber with a thermos in hand. The streaks in 
  KURTZWEIL's mask are pale red against the purple. 
  CORDOVERA: Have you come to torment the 
  Misker turncoat again? 
  JOHANN: No. I'm very sorry about what I did to 
  you, but you were killing me, after all. (takes a long, 
  nervous moment's pause) Here, (offers the thermos to 
  CORDOVERA) It must have taken a lot to put yourself 
  back together. 
  CORDOVERA accepts the thermos and opens it, 
  suppressing a shiver from the familiar scent of blood 
  within. He regards the contents for several minutes with a 
  mixture of despair and abject revulsion. Biting back his 
  hunger, CORDOVERA sets the thermos aside. 
  CORDOVERA: I don't want it. Take it away. Let 
  me at least die with some dignity. 
  JOHANN: (staring, wide-eyed at the thermos for a 
  moment, licking his lips, before continuing) We're not 
  going to kill you. We're going to try to — oh, please. 
  Please. Just a taste. 
  CORDOVERA: What? What do you mean? 
  JOHANN: I need... just take a taste, yes? Your 
  masters, they told you, didn't they? Just a little taste 
  before we go to Horizon. 
  CORDOVERA: Horizon? 
  JOHANN: Never mind that. A trifle. I'll be there for 
  you, yes. Take care of you. Yes. (swallows hard, on the 
  verge of losing it) So. Just a sip. Yes? For me? 
  Realization dawns on CORDOVERA. 
  
   
   Act Three: Blood Treachery        51 
   
  CORDOVERA: Friend, would that I could part with it, 
  you would be welcome to every drop of this cursed ichor 
  that I have left. But I am what I am now. You don't want 
  this. From where I stand, it is worth nothing next to what 
  you have to lose. 
  JOHANN: (now trembling as though beset by 
  illness) But we lose nothing for just tasting it. That's 
  what he said. Your mistake for going too far. We were 
  smarter. Yes. Your blood. Power. And strife. But a 
  magus still. 
  CORDOVERA steps forward to grasp both of 
  JOHANN''s arms, kicking over the thermos of blood as he 
  does so. JOHANN begins to stoop down to the puddle at 
  his feet, but CORDOVERA's gaze transfixes him. 
  CORDOVERA: Look at yourself. You look like the 
  walking dead. You are becoming one of us by degrees. 
  Your soul is drowning, you poor fool. 
  JOHANN: But I- 
  CORDOVERA:    No.    No  objections.  Together,   
  we   will   go   to   Horizon,   and   I   will   meet   my  fate  
  like  the   magus   I   once   was.     I   will   tell   no   one  
  of  what   has   happened   here,    but   you   must   struggle  
   
  against these chains or you will lose everything. You are 
  Awake; do not be so quick to descend into the Sleep of 
  the Damned. 
  JOHANN raises His gaze upward, his face streaked with 
  tears, as shadows fall. 
   
  SCENE 9 
  An interrogation chamber in Horizon. MIGUEL 
  CORDOVERA stands before a great number of purple-
  masked magi, including the hastily convened de facto 
  Council of Nine. The masks of several of the mages are 
  streaked with red. The Cabal of Bright Wisdom is 
  present, as are JOHANN KURTZ WEIL and LORD 
  EDWARD GILMORE. GILMORE 's mask is deep 
  purple and devoid of any streaks. It appears as though 
  CORDOVERA has been answering questions for quite 
  some time. 
  GILMORE: And how many Hermetic mages have you 
  yourself... ah... transformed, Mr. Cordovera? 
  CORDOVERA: One. I was commanded to do so. 
  GILMORE: Why are your allies capturing Hermetic 
  mages and turning them into vampires?  
  
   
  52        Blood Treachery 
  CORDOVERA: I don't know. Perhaps for the same 
  reason that they first captured vampires when they were 
  magi. I do not pretend to make excuses for the actions of 
  the undead any more so than I make excuses for the 
  crimes I have committed. 
  CORDOVERA scam the assembly, sighing heavily. 
  I have consumed the blood of the innocent. I have 
  taken lives, ruined them, shaped them. Whatever served 
  my purposes, I did without hesitation. I could say now 
  that I never did so without regret, but of what comfort is 
  that to the children I've murdered? Or to the starving 
  families whose jobs I've taken away in order to snipe at 
  my rivals? Or to the magus whose Avatar I put to death? 
  A crimson tear falls from CORDOVERA's cheek. 
  I am no longer a magus. My soul was taken from me, 
  shattered into a million pieces. As the blood seized hold 
  of my dying body and I felt it suffuse every pore of my 
  being with its unwelcome gift of life everlasting, I heard 
  the death-throes of the Angel who had guided me all my 
  years in the Order. I heard her crying out, falling apart. 
  CORDOVERA, smiling sadly, meeting eyes with 
  each mage in turn. His gaze lingers over those whose 
  masks show red streaks. 
  Ever since the day I learned I would live forever, I 
  have wanted it to end. 
  Pause. 
  Before he can say more, CORDOVERA's eyes spout 
  fountains of blood. He screams. Guards rush to help, but 
  bolts of electricity shoot from his body, stunning them. 
  CORDOVERA's face begins twitching, and his clothes 
  begin changing. A massive telekinetic wave sends every 
  mage sprawling. CORDOVERA's hands erupt into 
  flame. And then, suddenly, it is no longer CORDOVERA, 
  but a figure that wears the bloodied mask of a 
  VAMPIRE ANCIENT. The masked figure, a spirit 
  projected through undead powers into the very heart of 
  the Traditions, radiates authority that will not be 
  questioned. The mask bears a striking resemblance to 
  that of the MYSTERIOUS PRESENCE in Act Two, 
  Scene 10. 
  The assembled magi stand, stunned. One FLAM-
  BEAU rushes toward the ANCIENT. The mask turns to 
  face the FLAMBEAU, and the FLAMBEAU is frozen in 
  place. No one else dares to move. 
  ANCIENT: No welcome for the prodigal son, then? 
  More's the pity, I suppose. 
  The ANCIENT surveys the Council Chamber. 
  My, my, my... what a lovely retreat you've con-
  structed for yourselves! Tell me, is this then where you 
  have  been  hiding  for all these years? I certainly haven't 
  seen you out in the world, after all. I almost believed you 
  were all destroyed. 
  JOSIAH: He broke the wards? 
  ANCIENT: Blood knows blood, young man. You 
  were foolish enough to bring one of mine into your 
  Sanctum. If I learned nothing else from our adversaries 
  in the Carpathians, I learned that one never invites the 
  vampyr into one's abode. 
  REBECCA: Release Cordovera. 
  ANCIENT: Oh, he will be released, don't worry 
  about that. He will be granted the release he so desper-
  ately craves. But not until I am through with him, of 
  course. 
  He turns to GILMORE. 
  I assume you speak for the assembled? 
  GILMORE: I am the representative for the Order of 
  Hermes. I am Lord Edward Gilmore, Master of the Ars 
  Essentiae. 
  ANCIENT: You may dispense with the formalities, 
  Gilmore. I merely wish to know which head of the 
  serpent I should address. And thus, you find yourself as 
  the subject of this brief interrogation. My question for 
  you is this: 
  The air around the ANCIENT grows dark and poi-
  soned. 
  Why, after so many years — after we have gone our 
  own ways'— do you children insist on pressing this 
  vendetta? Have you naught else to do save resurrecting a 
  centuries-dead war? 
  GILMORE: You are criminals and infernalists. You 
  are guilty of murder, of Gilgul, of atrocities— 
  ANCIENT: You insist on pressing an 800-year old 
  criminal finding? 
  GILMORE: —of atrocities up to and including the 
  murder of millions in Bangladesh. 
  ANCIENT: Bangladesh? I have never even -
  Ahhhhhhhh. I see. You refer to the little war there that 
  drowned the poor rakshasa in his own monsoon. He was 
  out of control when he awoke, that much I will allow. 
  But how is it that we have become the inheritors of his 
  indiscretions? 
  GILMORE: You were controlling this "rakshasa"! 
  You are as guilty as it is. 
  The ANCIENT stares at GILMORE, unbelieving. 
  Suddenly, he starts laughing. 
  ANCIENT: Could it be? Could it truly be that you 
  literally know nothing of what you have stumbled into? 
  Let me tell you what I see. I see a ruined home, gutted 
  by  you,   and do I see it burned down? Do I see the earth 
  
   
   Act Three: Blood Treachery        53 
  salted so that nothing like it will rise ? No, I see an 
  empty library. Clamor about atrocities and criminal acts, 
  but the only crime I see is the Hermetic Order murdering 
  people for books! Of course, we have taken something in 
  return. Isn't that right, Mr. Kurtzweil? 
  KURTZWEIL: What? I have no- 
  ANCIENT: Come here. 
  Irresistibly compelled, KURTZWEIL obeys and falls 
  to his knees. 
  GILMORE: What are you— 
  ANCIENT: You have something that belongs to us, 
  don't you, Mr. Kurtzweil? 
  KURTZWEIL: Please... don't... 
  ANCIENT: Acquired a taste, have we? 
  The ANCIENT gestures idly, and KURTZWEIL 
  freezes in place. The red streaks in KURTZWEIL's mask 
  turn bone-white all of a sudden, and the mage collapses, 
  sobbing. 
  GILMORE: What have you done? 
  ANCIENT: He will live — for the moment, at least. 
  The lure of power is a most seductive addiction. It would 
  certainly seem to be rather a popular one nowadays 
  within House Tytalus. I suppose you could ask Master 
  De Allegresse of the matter were he here, or if indeed 
  you survive this night. This is war, after all, is it not? 
  The flames encircling the ANCIENT's hands begin 
  pulsing and growing. The mages react, ready to press 
  the charge. 
  GILMORE: You think you can defeat us? 
  ANCIENT: I look at you, and I see a roomful of 
  broken, pathetic idiots who have squandered their gifts 
  in a fool's crusade. You could no more stop me than 
  undo the destruction of Mistridge. Eradicating you 
  would be a service to the world. 
  REBECCA: Wait! 
  All eyes turn toward her. 
  You won't destroy us. 
  The ANCIENT regards her with interest. 
  REBECCA: I know it. This isn't how it ends. 
  The ANCIENT scrutinizes her carefully. 
  ANCIENT: A fate-weaver. I see. What it is you 
  perceive, child? 
  REBECCA: This is a nexus, isn't it? A point of 
  crucial consequence. You can't destroy us, because that 
  would destroy you too. We're not your enemies. 
  ANCIENT: Aren't you ? Wasn't it your Order that 
  started this war? 
  REBECCA: But we each have our parts to play, do 
  we not? We can go any way we want. We can destroy 
  each other, and everything is lost. But we need each 
  other, in some sort of sick sense. You have your 
  enemies, and we have ours. If one of us is lost, so goes 
  the other. You can dispute me, you can kill us all, of that 
  I have no doubt. But this will encompass your doom. 
  Pause. 
  ANCIENT: I have lived... No. I have existed for over 
  a thousand years, and that is a great deal of time to 
  ponder one's actions. Most of all, I dwell upon the 
  fortunes that brought me to this. If I had any cause left to 
  believe that Hell had power over me, I might fear for my 
  decrepit soul. More than anyone else, I can appreciate 
  the chains of the flesh and the yearning to escape 
  upward. 
  I knew full well what would happen when I drank 
  that potion, brewed from the blood of a monster. I knew 
  even then that I sentenced my Daemon to death, that I 
  would lose my magic and be forever outcast from the 
  light of day. Oh yes, I knew the consequences of my 
  actions. However, I knew the mysteries of Fate also, 
  child. The secrets of the Ars Fati were no less 
  compelling in my day than in yours. When the vis began 
  to die, I, like many others, looked to the mysteries 
  contained in unraveling threads. What we discovered, all 
  of us, pleased no one. The cowardly retreated from the 
  world. The proud denied the truth until it ground them 
  underfoot. The brave perished, raging against the turning 
  of Fortune's Wheel. The resourceful? You look now 
  upon the last of them. 
  I have outlived many enemies. I have deceived 
  Death. I have cheated even the fall of magic. I have 
  usurped the legacy of the First Murderer and supped on 
  souls until my own empty heart grew heavy with the 
  echoes of their anguish. Who, or what, speaks through 
  you, child, that I who may yet see the unmaking of 
  Time, hear in your words that distant stirring of the 
  mystic sight I and my kind murdered a millennium ago? 
  Who, or what, indeed? 
  I am old and tired, and perhaps it will come to pass 
  one day soon that Fate cuts down the monster it has 
  made. However, until such a day, I have my own 
  responsibilities. So hear me, Gilmore - - press this matter 
  at your own risk. For there are worse fates than death, 
  and better enemies to fight... are there not? 
  The ANCIENT smiles, barely visible under the mask. 
  Flames burst from his garments. Within seconds, the 
  figures of the ANCIENT and CORDOVERA are engulfed in 
  
   
  54        Blood Treachery 
  flames. Soon, nothing remains but ashes — and the 
  lingering impression of the ANCIENT's mask that 
  hangs, impossibly, in the air. 
  No one moves. 
  EDWARD: What now? 
  REBECCA: We walk away from the chasm. We 
  bury the dead. 
  GILMORE: Child, we can't - 
  ENTROPY embraces REBECCA and splits into the 
  Three Fates. 
  REBECCA: We failed, sir. Not this war, not this 
  struggle; we failed the world. We were supposed to keep 
  the sacred wisdom of the world, protect those without 
  the Gift and realize the City of Pymander. But we've 
  failed and lost the war. Instead of facing that fact, we 
  decided to pick a fight with some vampires who nearly 
  destroyed us. But yet, somehow, with all our fuck-ups 
  and mistakes, for all our blindness and arrogance, we 
  survive by the grace of Fortune. 
  I'm tired of dodging bullets. I'm tired of hiding in the 
  shadows while the Technocracy strangles the world. All 
  this time, I haven't felt angry. Even when I heard what 
  happened to Matthew, I wasn't angry. Now I am. I'm 
  angry that we nearly threw ourselves into the maw of 
  oblivion for the sake of a vendetta and someone's 
  political agenda. I'm angry that we've been running for 
  400 years while our enemies feast on the soul of the 
  world. 
  The Tytalans — the ones with the blood habit — let 
  them die. We're better off without them. A sentiment I'm 
  sure you can appreciate, sir; survival of the fittest, right? 
  We have better things to worry about. 
  We failed the world. You and me and all the mages 
  of every Tradition that came before us. We failed 
  because we forgot our duty. Now we can either hide and 
  let the world continue its slow-motion slide into Hell, or 
  we can ask the world to forgive us and try to save it from 
  the steel talons of the Technocratic Union. 
  We fight and we win, or we are all lost. 
  ENTROPY returns to the ORACLES as they all bow 
  their heads before REBECCA. 
   
  SCENE 10 
  Darkness,      broken    only    by    a    single   shaft 
  of   light.      Within   that   shaft   of   light,     MARCUS  
  DE  ALLEGRESSE  kneels.    The  ORACLES  stand  in 
  a  semicircle,    at  the  edge  of  the  illumination. 
  MARCUS  is  shaking  as  though  in  the  throes  of 
  illness,    craning  his head about and speaking to  — and 
    
   
  WHAT HAPPENED TO HOUSE TREMERE? 
   
  As the beginnings of this play indicate, House 
  Tremere turned to vampirism a thousand years ago, a 
  crime for which its founder was cast out and the house 
  itself stricken from the Order's rolls. The Massasa War 
  pitted mages against vampires across eastern Europe for 
  decades. Tremere himself, the founder of the House, was 
  never caught. Eventually, the Order declared the matter 
  closed. All of the errant Tremere-turned-vampires were 
  thought destroyed. 
  Hundreds of years give rise to change. For the few 
  former Tremere who may have survived, evolution into 
  the undead state severed them from their former Order. 
  As vampires, they are creatures that the Order no longer 
  understands. Without the power, training and support of 
  the Order, they no longer have any of their old skills or 
  heritage. The ancient House Tremere is no more. Now 
  there are only the undead — some, perhaps, who 
  remember days as mortal wizards in the Dark Ages, but 
  for whom magic is part-and-parcel of the curse of 
  undeath. Vampires have their own magic and society, it 
  seems. 
  And Tremere himself? Well, that founder was a 
  magician of great skill, yet not nearly the equal of the 
  other Houses' founders. Limited by happenstance, he 
  bartered his forceful personality and organizational skills 
  into a leadership role. Still, his own magic was not so 
  potent as  that of many other, more gifted, magicians. 
  Driven by ambition, he built rules and strictures, then 
  finally gave up life and magic so that he might rule 
  among the undead. His daring and psyche were forceful, 
  the likes of which mages have not seen again. Better to 
  rule in Hell.... 
   
   
   
   
   
  occasionally pausing to hear a reply from — an unseen 
  presence. The amount of red streaks in his mask almost 
  equal the amount of purple. 
  MARCUS: No. No! It is not making us stronger. It is 
  killing us! 
  The ORACLES take a step closer as MARCUS begins 
  sobbing. He looks up — nearly meeting the eyes of the 
  ORACLES — and holds up his hands, almost as though 
  in supplication. 
  
   
   Act Three: Blood Treachery        55 
  I can bend steel in these hands. I can batter stone to 
  dust with them. But I cannot hear the call of the 
  elements. I cannot weave a flame from the vis like any 
  common Disciple. 
  FORCES steps forward, as if to place a comforting 
  hand on MARCUS as the Tytalan's head sinks and tears 
  fall from his cheeks.    The ORACLE'S trembling hand rests 
  a scant inch from MARCUS' head for a long moment 
  and then, reluctantly, it is withdrawn. Darkness begins 
  to fall. 
  My Will be done. My Will be done. My Will be 
  done.... 
  MARCUS DE ALLEGRESSE's form is swallowed by 
  the shadows, and the light fades away. 
  — FIN —
  
   
   
  
   
  Act Four: Pawns And Bishops        57 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
  Everything flows, out and in; everything has its tides; all 
  things rise and fall; the pendulum-swing manifests in every-
  thing; the measure of the swing to the right is the measure of the 
  swing to the left; rhythm compensates.  
  - The Kybalion  
   
   
   
   
   
  Drama's over; it's time for talk. 
  The Hermetics and their allies are now 
  going from here to there. Where you take 
  them after that, how they get there and 
  what they learn along the way is up to you. 
  This chapter will hopefully help both 
  players and Storytellers cope with the wiz-
  ards in the new Mage universe.  
  The SLEEP OF AGES 
  The first question to ask, of course, is, "What's going 
  on?" Why is magic tightening? Why are tried-and-true 
  formulae no longer working? Why are the Umbrood so 
  much more difficult to summon? 
  The easy answer is that the Final Nights are upon the 
  World of Darkness, and everything's going to Hell.  
  
   
  58        Blood Treachery 
  That's not the whole truth, but that's a good place to 
  start. Mages are not exempt from the chaos that engulfs 
  the world. If anything, they're more vulnerable to it than 
  most supernatural creatures. After all, reality shapes 
  mages as much as mages shape reality. 
  Let's think about consensual reality—the Tellurian — 
  in these Final Nights. Reality, as the Oracles said, is 
  becoming exhausted. First of all, the Technocratic 
  paradigm increasingly limits possibilities. Reality is 
  starting to believe the Big Lie of the Technocracy. 
  Spirits are keeping their distance or disappearing alto-
  gether. Ancient rituals and philosophies no longer matter 
  in the scientific world. While the embers of knowledge 
  may be guarded by the Traditions, most people couldn't 
  care less. 
  The reason for this apathy leads to a second way to 
  read "exhausted." Reality is tired. It's pooped. Progress, 
  human innovation and technological breakthroughs get 
  faster and faster — swamping traditional values and 
  schools of thought — and people simply can't keep up. 
  In the end, the increased speed of technological advance 
  convinces people to give up. They surrender their will in 
  the onslaught of overwhelming progress. And since 
  reality depends on the dwindling will of the Sleepers, 
  reality itself has lost its will. Things feel heavy, leaden 
  and gray. In metaphysical terms, Stasis is knocking on 
  the door, and it'll let itself in if people don't care enough. 
  And then, truly it will all be over. 
   
  THE HERMETIC RESPONSE 
  Now, let's step into the shoes of a Master who has 
  been studying the Hermetic Arts since the mid-18th 
  century. He has mastered the Ars Essentia, granting him 
  insight into the primal forces of the universe. He has 
  spent the last two centuries learning everything he can 
  about the Art. He has spent years tracking down texts 
  that were written millennia ago. He has researched the 
  Five Elements to the point of exhaustion. He has made 
  extensive pacts with angels, demons and other High 
  Umbrood. His entire unnaturally extended life has been 
  devoted to one thing and one thing only: Mastery of all 
  the Hermetic Arts, with the hopes that if he masters 
  reality, he will Ascend. 
  Now imagine that he woke up one day, and none of 
  what he had learned worked anymore. 
  No words of power. No chalices. No scrolls in 
  ancient tongues. No dragon's blood. None of it worked, 
  and he could not perform magic. 
  And let's say he has some training in Prime magic, 
  and he can actually sense reality tightening around him. 
  Every thread of the Tapestry turns into an iron net. 
  Everything he has dedicated his life to studying and 
  understanding is now worthless. 
  What would he do? 
  He would probably do what the rest of the Hermetics 
  did: He would panic. 
  Hermetics, for all their power and ego, are still 
  human. And when the shit hits the fan and suddenly the 
  fourth pentacle of Mars wouldn't call up a fire elemental 
  like it did last Tuesday, they panicked. And when people 
  panic, they make bad decisions. Like trying to track 
  down and destroy the holdouts from House Tremere for 
  old books. The Order as a whole is not dumb; it 
  understands its own weakened position and need for 
  allies instead of enemies. But not every individual sees 
  things the same way. When one mage makes a bad 
  decision, the rest of the Order — and indeed all the 
  Traditions — can feel the results. 
  Hermetics aren't the only ones panicking, of course. 
  All mages are feeling the pinch, including Technocrats 
  (victims of their own success). Each Tradition is coping 
  in its own manner, some better than others. The world is 
  choking, and the dynamism inherent in all mages is 
  being attacked. It's been bad before, but never this bad. 
  Marauders spring up every day, simply because what is 
  considered "insane" is becoming so much greater. All 
  realities are colliding against the meta-reality of apathy. 
  The one Hermetic's original theory — that the 
  formulae need to be revamped from the original ancient 
  texts — is a good one, but it's ultimately the wrong one. 
  Traveling backward in time, it misses the point. 
  Examining the foundations will not stop the house from 
  crumbling. Despite the ravings of several Hermetic 
  Masters in the grip of Twilight, the High Mythic Ages 
  will not return. The clock cannot be turned back. It is a 
  sad fact to acknowledge, but the Traditions have looked 
  too long on a past that cannot be reclaimed. 
   
  THE FOUR WINDS 
  Should  the  Order  give  up  on   the   Traditions? 
  Are  those  ancient  and  venerable  ways  dead  and 
  gone? Has the Technocracy finally eliminated all opposi-
  tion?   As  the  Reckoning  heads  toward  its  climax and 
  
   
   Appendix: The Blood Curse        59 
  Armageddon looms, Tradition mages usually find 
  themselves in one of four different states of mind. These 
  examples are obviously the extremes a mage can reach, 
  but in these days, the extremes are becoming more and 
  more normal. 
  The Broken. Despondency is a hard thing to deal 
  with. These mages have thrown in the towel in the belief 
  that the war is lost and nothing can be done to stem the 
  tide of Stasis. Destroyed beyond hope of recovery, 
  suffering the traumatic scars of a war fought and lost — 
  at least in their minds -- these mages desert the 
  Traditions in favor of one of the other factions, or a 
  retreat from the struggle entirely. While the Nephandi 
  prey on the hopelessness that these mages exude, some 
  such souls still find comfort in the secure arms of the 
  Technocracy. (And the Technocracy is happy to 
  "rehabilitate" them.) Even if these shattered souls 
  manage to find safety in the Union, however, it's usually 
  only a matter of time before suicide or the Cauls claims 
  them. 
  The Webcutters. The strange mages who subscribe 
  to this belief decide to use the Technocracy's weapons 
  against that organization — without realizing what they 
  are doing. Abandoning long-held beliefs or simply 
  ignoring them from the start, they use the Technocratic 
  paradigm to fight the Technocracy. They abandon 
  wonder for hard science, the fireball for the machine gun 
  and Umbrood for aliens. The irony of this position is 
  unmistakable. While their actions might do physical 
  harm to the Technocracy, they end up doing nothing 
  more than reinforcing its paradigm. The most desperate 
  of these mages form pacts with strange Stasis entities, 
  becoming all but automatons in their fight. Ultimately, 
  however, their actions only strengthen the material and 
  deny the spiritual. 
  The Transcendentalists. As the struggle for personal 
  enlightenment becomes more and more difficult under 
  the stratification of magic, some mages simply seek to 
  rise above it all and escape. This mindset stresses 
  personal Ascension above all else as a means of avoiding 
  the coming strife. While Ascension is certainly a 
  worthwhile goal (perhaps the only goal worth fighting 
  for), these hermits pursue it under questionable motives. 
  Strangely enough, these mages usually have no direct 
  experience in the former Ascension War or its 
  aftershocks, and they want to keep it that way. Whether 
  any of them has reached this goal is unknown, but fear 
  of the world is usually not a good reason to attempt 
  Ascension. 
   
  
   
  60        Blood Treachery 
  The Bombs. The War will not be lost without a final 
  fight! Exemplifying the attitude of House Flambeau, 
  these mages are getting themselves ready for the last 
  great battle of the Ascension War. No cost is too high, 
  no action is too small, and no ethic can stand in the way 
  of total victory. The repressed rage of the Traditions 
  made manifest, this faction enjoys the numerical 
  advantage as mages act on the anger they have buried for 
  so long. In their quest to win the war, however, they lose 
  sight of the goal, and they forget what they were fighting 
  for in the first place. Sadly, a disproportionate number of 
  these people end up trapped in Quiet, going Marauder in 
  their mindless rage before exploding in a blaze of 
  Paradox. 
   
  THE MIDDLE PATH 
  So what is a Hermetic to do in these troubled times? 
  Continuing along the same stagnant road only leads to 
  destruction. Attempting to re-engineer the old formulae 
  has turned into a catastrophe. The Archmasters can't 
  help, and even if they could, they'd have only the same 
  old formulae and prejudices to regurgitate. The other 
  Traditions view the Hermetics with even more suspicion 
  than before. There is no going back. 
  The Four Winds are the extremes of what people 
  believe in these interesting times. You can give up, give 
  in, seek escape or go out fighting. Those options seem to 
  be the only ones. However, like the elements, the four 
  united creates a fifth option: the Middle Path. 
  It is a tricky compromise. To fight without giving in 
  to total rage; to transcend without turning callous and 
  uncaring; 
  to 
  acknowledge 
  loss 
  without 
  being 
  overwhelmed by defeat.; to work in the new world 
  without succumbing to it. Not many people could try. It 
  takes an extraordinary person to balance these four 
  extremes in the Final Nights. 
  Of course, being an extraordinary person is what 
  Mage is all about. You can tell compelling stories as 
  Traditional  mages  succumb to the pressures of the 
  world around them and burn out, or make doomed 
  decisions  that  "seemed  good  at the  time." Some 
  mages make it; some get crushed in the gears. The 
  Traditionalists   can't   dash   down  the  Technocracy 
  and bring forth a world of magic (and the Technocrats 
  can't   give   humanity  the  will  to  be  something 
  better),  but  there  are  many  important   things   that 
  can  be  done  in  between.    The  very scope of events in 
  Blood Treachery explains what can happen as a result 
  of the actions of just one person. The next great leap — 
  or crash — could come from any single mage, even one 
  of the players' characters. Hopefully, the players have a 
  good time along the way. 
   
  ROLE PLAYING AND 
  STORYTELLING THE ORDER 
  The Order of Hermes is one of the toughest Tradi-
  tions to portray. While there are several Traditions that a 
  novice player could leap into and fake his way through 
  right off the bat, it's nearly impossible to do so with a 
  plausible Hermetic character. A Mage player doesn't just 
  write up an 85th-level magic-user and slay some 
  kobolds, after all. 
  Furthermore, most Hermetic philosophy runs counter 
  to what a modern person has been educated to believe. 
  After all, it's hard to simply forget about, oh, atomic 
  theory or biology and start talking about the four humors 
  and their relations to the elements. Hopefully, these tips 
  will help you get into the proper frame of mind to tackle 
  a unique roleplaying challenge. 
   
  DO YOUR HOMEWORK! 
  Hermetic philosophy is a strange mishmash of belief 
  systems that began in Egypt, got fused with Greek 
  philosophy, picked up Gnostic, Neo-Platonic and 
  Eleusinian flavors, absorbed Jewish Kaballah, incorpo-
  rated alchemy, revived astrology and the Tarot, and 
  extends nowadays into esoteric belief systems such as 
  chaos magic and ontological anarchy. 
  In other words, the prospective player of an Order of 
  Hermes character has a lot to learn. 
  Nevertheless, you don't need to buy a ton of books at 
  the occult bookstore just to play a game. That would 
  kind of defeat the purpose of having a good time, 
  wouldn't it? So, what do you need to learn? 
  Astrology helps, especially if you go beyond basic 
  sun-sign astrology (the kind you can find in any 
  newspaper) and explore the planets and the houses. The 
  Tarot helps as well. Get yourself a deck, and just play 
  around with it to get a feel for the symbolism of the 
  cards. Learning Golden Dawn-type ritual, however, is 
  probably a bit excessive. We're trying to play a game 
  here, after all, and yelling at your Storyteller because he 
  made a mistake in numerology will not help. Besides, 
  these tools add great flavor to the game, but whether you 
  actually believe in them is your business. 
  
   
   Appendix: The Blood Curse        61 
  The suggested-reading list at the end of this book 
  gives several sources that either espouse a Hermetic 
  philosophy or are Hermetic works of art. We haven't 
  listed any "how-to" guides back there, because it's more 
  important to understand poetry and metaphor — which 
  are essential ingredients in magic — than it is to know 
  how to perform a minor summoning ritual. 
  And if worse comes to worst, just bluff. Magic is 
  based on belief, after all, and if everyone in your group 
  agrees with a praxis, then who are we to tell you what to 
  do? 
   
  PRAXIS ESSENTIAE 
  Pageantry, drama and nobility are the hallmarks of 
  the Hermetic praxis. Let the shaman howl at the sky until 
  the heavens answer, let the witch mingle humors in her 
  cauldron; Magus Rex. commands the Elements, 
  summons the celestial hierarchies to attend his will and 
  holds in sacred trust the wisdom that shakes the earth 
  and exalts the spirit. The Hermetic mage does not simply 
  grasp his shewstone and plumb the cosmos using Corre-
  spondence. He conducts his rituals within circles 
  inscribed to specifications made exact in the days of 
  Solomon the Wise; the Names he calls upon are echoes 
  of the Thoughts of God. High ritual Magic is a time-
  consuming thing of pomp and circumstance that requires 
  the utmost dedication to even grasp, let alone master. It 
  is precisely this ethic that the Hermetic carries over into 
  his day-to-day dealings with other Awakened. 
  Lest you begin to believe that Hermetic arrogance is 
  simply a standard attitude problem issued at the door 
  upon graduation, remember that the average Hermetic's 
  mindset stems not from a childish mentality, but rather 
  from a sense of mystical superiority. The Hermetic acts 
  out of a noblesse oblige and an undying commitment as 
  a seneschal in the house of divine knowledge. When she 
  says to her compatriots, "You wouldn't understand," the 
  Hermetic mage is not copping the attitude of a self-
  centered teenager dealing with concerned parents. She is 
  divining 
  numerological 
  significance, 
  pondering 
  symbology   and   thinking   back   to   similar 
  circumstances   from   the   Hornbook   and   other   in-
  structional   texts.     In short,   she   is   drawing   upon   
  a   font   of   magical   knowledge   beyond   her 
  cabalmates' experience. Do you think you might be a bit 
  peeved if someone bugged you in the middle of a 17-part 
  calculation in which you were using the numeric 
  correspondences of Enochian glyphs? 
  Often, the sheer complexity of Hermetic praxis and 
  the amount of time and effort the mage must put into it 
  constantly leads others to perceive Hermetics as terse, 
  intolerant and self-important. In reality, belief in the 
  Hermetic paradigm is a constant effort of will, it is an 
  exercise of intellect, an aspiration of spirit. To become 
  the Word, to scale Hermes' caduceus, to climb the 
  Ladder to Heaven and to realize the City of Pymander 
  are not things that happen only when the player picks up 
  dice to roll Arete. More so than perhaps any other 
  Tradition, the Hermetics realize that magic is not an act 
  or even a thing, but instead a state of being. 
  Therefore, it is not surprising that Hermetic mages 
  are creatures of rigorous discipline. Further, it should 
  also be unsurprising that they are inclined to demand the 
  same kind of discipline from others. Magic is the 
  mightiest tower, the headiest draught and the most 
  dangerous weapon. You do not trust a weak-willed fool 
  with the defense of the castle, any more than you hand a 
  chimpanzee a loaded gun. These things are not done by 
  the wise, nor does the fool often have the opportunity to 
  repent of his error in doing so. With years of torturously 
  intense training behind him and a relentless resolve to 
  continue to pursue this Path of Gold — no matter the 
  hardships, as years become decades and centuries — the 
  Hermetic mage cannot but challenge his companions. 
  "When I see that the strength and depth of your 
  conviction mirrors my own," he asserts, "only then will I 
  honor you as I demand you honor me." 
  While any common Sleeper can blunder through a 
  peyote-vision or justify her existence with fearful 
  supplications to some external divinity, a Hermetic 
  makes a reality of his own vision and justifies himself by 
  his Will. Anyone who demands less of himself is no 
  better than a Sleeper moving fearfully through a world 
  that he lacks the power to command, alter and suborn. 
  To a Hermetic, if reality is clay, it is supreme precision 
  and the greatest possible understanding (not merely the 
  Awakening) that gives one the right to sculpt. 
  The   Hermetics'   foci   are   not   just   the   tools 
  needed   to   create   sufficient   belief to allow for magic. 
  They are barriers with which to distance oneself from the 
  power of the Art, even as one shapes it. The Ecstatic, 
  lost   in   bliss,     is ridden by his magic;     the Chorister, 
  
   
  62        Blood Treachery 
  singing down her angels, is subordinate to hers. It is the 
  Hermetic who commands the magic, fully accepting the 
  exultation and the blame without fear. As in all other 
  things, the Hermetic must dominate her magic and 
  define it, shaping it with utmost discernment. A vision is 
  irrelevant without a seer, and a deity worshipped by 
  none might as well not exist. The force of a Hermetic 
  mage's Will gives her relevance. She needs the approval 
  of no god, for she carries Divinity within herself. She 
  needs only refine and purify it in the crucible that is the 
  ongoing process of Ascension. 
   
  BREAKING DOWN OTHER MISCONCEPTIONS 
  Hermetics are not the bad guys. They have made 
  mistakes, to be sure, but they are not the villains in this 
  drama. And surely whatever crimes can be laid on the 
  heads of the Hermetics pale in comparison to the 
  atrocities committed by the Technocracy in the name of 
  Progress. Speaking of which... 
  Hermetics are not Technocrats with magic wands. 
  While a Hermetic may look as stagnant and broken as a 
  Technocrat in the eyes of the more freewheeling 
  Traditions, to think that the Order has the same goals as 
  the Union is just plain wrong. The Technocracy idealizes 
  a world of flatness, the souls of their sheep ground into 
  meal so that Progress, Safety and Perfection can rule the 
  land. Hardly a world that has room for dragons, basilisks 
  and miracles. 
  Furthermore, the Order does not encourage the 
  "truth" of democracy,   that all  people are equal to 
  others — a "truth" that the Technocracy itself doesn't 
  even believe in. (If it did, would there be a ruling Elite?) 
  Man is a hierarchical animal, and to pretend that the 
  Great Chain of Being doesn't apply in this day and age is 
  folly. Hermetics are elitists, but they're honest about it. 
  And, in truth, they've earned the right to be. 
  Hermetic respect must be earned. Just because 
  you're Awakened doesn't mean you're worth anything in 
  the eyes of the Order. If you want to be seen as worthy 
  in the eyes of a Hermetic, you had better have your shit 
  together. That worth doesn't necessarily correspond to 
  paradigm, either. The Order will respect the visions of 
  the wildest Cultist of Ecstasy or the fantastical inven-
  tions of the Sons of Ether, as long as the mages in 
  question have the right attitude. 
  Hollow Ones, Virtual Adepts, Orphans and any other 
  mages who whine and complain that the Order is elitist 
  and should give them a break is missing the point.  
  Magic  is  not  an  entitlement.   You  have  to  earn  your 
  birthright, and the Hermetic works hard to ensure that 
  right. The Hermetic's famous discipline is not mere 
  stasis, but the necessary framework to change reality. It's 
  as necessary as an Akashic's kata, a Son of Ether's math 
  skills or a Virtual Adept's binary code. If a mage isn't 
  willing to do the work to perfect his Art, the Hermetic 
  wants no truck with him. 
  "Well, screw them! I don't care what the Merlins 
  think, anyway!" That's right, you're a young techno-
  Orphan who's Hell-bent on doing whatever the fuck you 
  want, and no way is some old geezer in a miniver-
  trimmed robe gonna try and tell you differently! Well, 
  good luck to you, then. In the meantime, the Hermetics 
  have 5,000 years of wisdom to peruse and refine. Just 
  don't complain when they don't give you the respect you 
  think you deserve. 
  Hermetics do set Tradition policy. Let's face it, the 
  Order of Hermes pretty much founded the Traditions. 
  Sure, the Cult of Ecstasy's seers predicted the 
  organization, the Batini put the right notes in the right 
  hands at the right time, and there wouldn't even be a 
  Council without all of the Traditions together. In the end, 
  though, the Hermetics had the most organization, the 
  most codified ways to describe and trade magic and the 
  most political will. 
  That hasn't changed. The headstrong Hermetics do 
  often set Tradition policy, even if it's j ust because it's 
  not worth the trouble to fight them over some little 
  matter of protocol. The typical Verbena or Cultists just 
  don't bother to fight the Order over political goals, so the 
  Order can push its agenda. Not every mage follows that 
  agenda, but the Order does create the foundations of the 
  Traditions. 
   
  THE NECESSITY OF SACRIFICE 
  The undying quest for perfected knowledge does not 
  come without price. Beyond the ever-growing temp-
  tations of hubris, stasis and the Path of Screams lies a 
  less tangible (yet more important) decision that all 
  mages must face. Each mage must ask, "What will I give 
  up in order to work toward Ascension?" 
  Mages are scholars, researchers and keepers of arcane 
  knowledge in a world that treats those vocations as 
  second-class.    In  the  World  of  Darkness,    it's  all  
  too  easy  to  focus  on  the  visceral,    the here-and-now, 
  and  to  dismiss  anyone  who  wastes  time  on  such 
  petty  knowledge.    In  this  respect,  the  Syndicate  has 
  already   won:    Why   learn   anything  that  won't  
  make   you   fabulously wealthy?   The Order's 
  universities     become    the   Syndicate's   degree   mills, 
  
   
   Appendix: The Blood Curse        63 
  churning out endless MBAs instead of true scholars. 
  Besides, learning isn't cool; it's much more important to 
  concentrate on superficial details than to try to expand 
  your mind. 
  By this virtue, Hermetics (and most other mages) are 
  already removed from most of humanity simply because 
  they 
  crave 
  knowledge. 
  They're 
  nerds, 
  geeks, 
  bookworms, brainiacs and every other epithet you could 
  think of. Even the Fortunae, the Order's social 
  butterflies, are scholars first and foremost. So forget the 
  pop-culture references, the snide cynicism and the 
  laissez-faire attitude that seems to have characterized 
  most of the 1990s. Hermetics are not tragically hip 
  slackers who watch MTV and believe in nothing. They 
  are passionate students who don't give a damn about 
  what's tops at the box office. Is their attitude one of 
  elitism or recognition of the dead pap the Technocracy 
  spoon-feeds to most of the "civilized" world in the form 
  of "culture"? Hermetics don't waste time with petty 
  bullshit. Although this image isn't totally accurate to 
  other Traditions, it's at least more common. One must 
  have extreme dedication in order to prosper in the Art. 
  Then, one must consider human relationships. As a 
  mage becomes more and more involved in his or her 
  magical studies, it becomes harder and harder to have a 
  normal relationship with other people. What's more 
  important, magical might or falling in love ? This 
  bittersweet choice should never be played lightly. Does a 
  mage neglect his duty to himself (and possibly the 
  world) by having a personal life, or are love and 
  friendship merely distractions on the road to Ascension? 
  But what of ethics, convictions, virtues and morals? 
  At what point does the mage offer principle upon the 
  altar of magic? If mages are at war, when does a mage 
  begin justifying horrors because of it? When does 
  principle conflict with the absolute need to win? Or, to 
  take another tack, what of personal Ascension? At what 
  point can certain experiments and dealings be justified as 
  necessary for one's own personal gain? And in the end, 
  is victory "by any means necessary" worth it? By 
  determining where to draw the ethical lines — both in a 
  character and in a chronicle — you define what is 
  possible. A Flambeau mercenary might have no 
  compunction about torching a roomful of Technocrats, 
  but a Seshati historian will probably have a very 
  different opinion. 
  More than Sphere levels, more than Arete, these 
  choices determine the Path your mage walks. Be sure to 
  choose carefully. And if you try to choose everything, 
  good luck keeping everything in balance! Magic is 
  defined by belief, and your beliefs in what is worth 
  fighting for will determine your magic. Walk appro-
  priately. 
  The core conflict in Blood Treachery revolves 
  around mages who essentially sell out. They refuse to 
  recognize their faults and weaknesses, and instead they 
  cast blame on others. They grasp at flimsy solutions 
  because they do not wish to accept their own problems 
  or shortcomings. They're arrogant, fearful, prejudicial, 
  prideful and petty. One must rise above these failings in 
  order to Ascend, yet many such mages justify their 
  actions in the pursuit of knowledge necessary for 
  Ascension. 
  Even if you ignore the events of Blood Treachery, 
  you can put these ideas and themes to good use. Many 
  people would argue that the events of Blood Treachery 
  don't make sense. No smart Tradition would declare war 
  during its weakest hour! No sensible mage would 
  sacrifice enlightenment for politics! But mages are 
  human, and they're just as flawed as any other human. 
  They make mistakes, they construct rationalizations, and 
  sometimes they just fail miserably. Awakening isn't 
  selective; the Awakened are not a chosen few with a 
  higher standard than the rest of humanity. Their only 
  higher standard is the bar that they set for themselves. 
  Otherwise, there wouldn't be Nephandi, Marauders or 
  even a war between the Traditions and the Technocracy. 
  Mages are not perfect; they can and do make 
  mistakes. When those mistakes are backed up with 
  monumental power and massive hubris, they become the 
  cornerstones of cosmic tragedy. 
   
  POWER POLITICS 
  Here's a tip for everyone: Politicos don't Ascend. 
  Here's another tip: Politicos control a lot of the Tradi-
  tions' resources. 
  They don't leave this world, and they control a lot of 
  stuff you'll need. 
  Don't politicos suck? 
  Yes, they do, but someone has to do it. These days, 
  it's easy to blame the viper's nest of intrigue within the 
  Order for causing the Traditions' current woes. And, yes, 
  the string-pullers deserve their fair share of blame. 
  
   
  64        Blood Treachery 
  Now, however, many of the worst power players are 
  dead. Doissetep is gone, leaving one less place for 
  clandestine activities to occur. There are vacuums to fill. 
  The political game can be either a pain in the ass or a 
  sublime joy, depending on your scenario. While it 
  doesn't carry the unique joy of incinerating your enemies 
  with a vulgar Forces Effect, being a mover and shaker 
  has its own set of rewards. Those rewards include the 
  following points: 
  • You're necessary. The Order's other mages simply 
  don't have the time to worry about administrative details, 
  like managing the Order's finances or keeping tabs on 
  occult bookstores. Moreover, other mages might not 
  have access to the same rumor mills that you do, or have 
  the necessary tact and diplomacy to negotiate an 
  alliance. By interposing yourself as a convenient middle-
  man, you curry favors that can be used later to get a little 
  something for yourself. 
  •  You're underestimated. By and large, the political 
  mages are the less powerful ones - - magically speaking, 
  that is. Since value in the Order is often predicated on 
  magical knowledge, no one's paying attention to you. 
  That's fine. While you may never Master a Sphere, you 
  know exactly what all the cabals in your Chantry are up 
  to. And if the Pointy Hats want to know that, they have 
  to come to you. 
  •  You have the potential to do some good. The Order 
  is in shambles, and study groups are not going to save 
  the day. The other Traditions are in pretty sorry shape, 
  too. Only someone with the charisma, the vision and the 
  balls to reach for the brass ring can pull the Order out of 
  this mess. After all, Baldric LaSalle wasn't much himself 
  until he pulled the Traditions together.... 
  When playing the political game, however, be sure 
  not to step on too many toes. In the past, excess greed 
  might have been tolerated. With the urgency of the Final 
  Nights, however, anyone who impedes salvation in order 
  to make a personal profit will soon find himself on the 
  wrong end of a fireball. 
  THE WIZARDS' MARCH 
  The 
  Wizards' March against the 
  Tremere and renegades of the Order soon 
  sucks both sides into a bloody conflict that 
  could destroy both organizations — or be 
  the crucible that means salvation. It could 
  turn the world on its ear or provide an 
  unparalleled opportunity for rebirth. It's 
  also a chance to have magical duels the 
  likes of which haven't been seen since the 
  High Mythic Age.  
  Here's a helpful guide on how to run the Blood 
  Treachery plot for yourselves. Remember, though, that 
  you are the ultimate arbiter of what goes on and what's 
  best for your game. We don't know what your players 
  use for their characters, or where your joys lie in 
  storytelling, so tweak as you will to make it your game. 
   
  TONE 
  First of all, the tone of the game should be one of 
  desperation. The Order of Hermes is on its last legs as 
  enemies assail it from all sides. For the first time in 
  centuries, confusion, chaos and disorder reign. Most of 
  the Masters and Archmages died along with Doissetep, 
  and most of the Order's magical knowledge went up in 
  flames with that Chantry as well. The Technocracy seems 
  unstoppable,    the  Nephandi  lick  their lips in anticipation, 
  and Marauders bloom  like weeds.   These   psychotic   new 
  hunters are becoming more than a mere annoyance; 
  they are almost a real threat. And all at once, magic 
  seems to be dwindling as wonder drains from the world. 
  Players' characters should walk into an atmosphere of 
  confusion, desperation and hopelessness. They should 
  then ask themselves the following question: What are we 
  going to do about it? The debates should rage as theory 
  after theory is proposed, shot down, agreed upon and 
  thrown out. Meanwhile, the encroachments on the 
  Hermetics' reality creep. Sooner or later, a choice will 
  have to be made. 
   
  IGNORANCE 
  Remember: Mages don't know everything, and they're 
  human. From all the evidence gathered by the Traditions, 
  vampires seem like the prime culprits in the strangling of 
  reality. The leveling of Bangladesh was simply the first 
  blow that the sinister undead unleashed upon the world. 
  Who knows what will be next? Encourage the atmosphere 
  of conjecture, rumor and sheer bullshit that rages around 
  the cabal. 
   
  MOTIVES 
  Why the Tremere? Why now? Everyone has reasons for 
  wanting to destroy vampires. The occult books held by 
  undead scholars are certainly valuable to the Order  —   
  one  of  them  might  hold  the  key   to   reversing   reality's 
  
   
   Appendix: The Blood Curse        65 
  THE RED STAR 
  For a magical society that believes in astrology, the 
  sudden appearance of a red star that coincides with the 
  Order's descent is not a coincidence — it's a dire omen. 
  The exact role of the star is unknown, but Hermetic 
  astrologers are certain that this new celestial entity bears 
  malevolent tidings. 
  stagnation. As the character Marcus demonstrates, 
  there are plenty of mages willing to slaughter a cabal of 
  vampires if it'll increase their own political standing. 
  And the Tremere have been poaching Hermetic 
  Apprentices and mages, destroying their Avatars in the 
  process. All of these reasons are good enough to 
  motivate the Order to renew the Massasa War. None is 
  the reason, however. 
  The Order is in a blind panic, and it's looking for 
  someone to blame for its misfortunes other than itself. 
  It's as simple as that. No other reason can account for 
  the hasty consensus reached regarding reality's stasis and 
  its solution. How many Hermetics could look in the 
  mirror and realize that their own pride, vanity and lack 
  of action in the face of the wall of reason caused this 
  mess? The Technocracy has won, and the Order can't 
  admit that. So, rather than confront the real enemy, it 
  finds a convenient scapegoat. 
  Keep in mind that this motive is not conscious. No 
  secret cabal of Hermetics is sitting around a fire, cack-
  ling as to how it's going to blame those damn vampires 
  for everything. Strong undercurrents of guilt, regret and 
  despair sweep the mages toward a bloody war that will 
  not help them in the least. No one realizes it; nobody 
  wants to realize it. The players' cabal, as the center of a 
  chronicle, can be either the group that suffers tragically 
  for this oversight, or the one that forces the Traditions to 
  wake up and face their problems. 
   
  USING BLOOD TREACHERY AS A VAMPIRE STORY 
  The story here is told primarily in Mage terms. After 
  all, it's the Order of Hermes that sets events in motion 
  for the second massasa war and it's the hubris of the 
  Order that ledads to death and damnation. That's not to 
  say that Blood Treachery can't be used to tell a 
  Vampire story, but first and foremost this tale concerns 
  mages. Vampires are victims and reactionaries here, 
  because this story isn't centrally about them. If you want 
  it to be, here's what you do. 
  First off, remember that Blood Treachery doesn't have 
  impact on Vampire on a real global, shaking-the-earth, 
  antediluvians-are-dying sort of scale. Some vampires die 
  and some mages get converted; business as usual. Certainly 
  the elders regard this as little more than a nuisance that'll 
  pass in a few months. That's not to say that this can't be 
  important to your group — a neonate who has mages 
  coming after him will certainly regard it as important! — 
  but this tale doesn't have a wide-ranging, long-lasting effect 
  on Kindred society. The Sabbat and Camarilla aren't going 
  to put down their weapons and join forces just because a 
  few upstart wizards whack a couple of neonates. 
  Perspective: To the vampires who're large and in charge, 
  these events are just a drop in the Jyhad. 
  Secondly, figure out right quick whether you're coming 
  at this from a Mage perspective or a Vampire point of 
  view, and set up your rules accordingly. If you're playing 
  this as a Mage game, you get to play with the themes of 
  hubris,    overconfidence  and  the  like.    For vampires,    
  it's  more  important  to  look  into  the  effects  upon 
  Humanity,  the need to survive and the conflict of grappling 
  with arrenemy who can't be appeased or understood. 
  Thematically the elements are quite different,  and the rules 
  from the two games support these different elements. To 
  try to just mix them hodgepodge is to invite disaster (or 
  at least, cries of favoritism from your players — after all, 
  if your vampire characters risk losing Humanity from 
  combat but mages have no such compunctions, then 
  matters are a little one-sided.) 
  Last, you need to decide what the vampires' courses of 
  action and reaction should be. Unlike the mage side, where 
  players' characters can be in from the start of the war, 
  vampires are unlikely to find themselves in the midst of 
  Blood Treachery until they're under fire. Tremere 
  characters will probably get hit first, but other vampires can 
  get targeted by mistake (or even on purpose, if they seem to 
  have useful occult knowledge). What happens next is up to 
  the 
  vampires' 
  reactions. 
  Unless 
  they're 
  incredibly 
  diplomatic, the vampire characters won't be able to stop 
  mages from prosecuting this war; they'll just have to look 
  for shelter and try to keep themselves alive. Once matters 
  heat up the vampires may gain specific goals, like 
  converting individual mages or smashing up Tradition 
  chantries, but they don't have a driving McGuffin the way 
  that the Order of Hermes "wins" when it captures valuable 
  occult tomes and resources. 
  With a Vampire story of Blood Treachery, you can 
  look at how the characters react to getting thrown out of 
  their element, how far they'll go to try to make peace (or 
  war), what they'll do when even the most humane and 
  pacifistic Kindred is assaulted without provocation and 
  how they survive against an enemy whose powers can 
  match their own Disciplines. That's a lot of room to explore 
  motive, characterization, theme and a little bit of high-
  action violence. 
  
   
  66        Blood Treachery 
   
  THE BATTLES ARCANE 
  Once the war begins, the battles that occur will move 
  the earth in the most literal sense. Throw magic and 
  vampirism at each other, and you have quite an explosive 
  combination. 
  The scope of these battles should not be minimized. 
  Vampire sorcery may or may not alter reality in your 
  chronicle, but it does wreak havoc. If your cabal hosts five 
  people, and they and their allies storm a hideout that hosts 
  10 or 15 vampires, the sheer pyrotechnics of the affair 
  should dazzle people. 
  Go epic. These battles are chances for Hermetics to 
  invoke the Arts they're most famous for — the 
  ArsEssentiae, Umbrood-Summoning and sheer wizardly 
  power. The vampires aren't slouches, either. They've had 
  hundreds of years to develop exceedingly versatile blood 
  magic, to hone their own powers and to set in motion plots 
  to defend their own interests. So feel free to go nuts with 
  the battles. The mages have come out of the shadows, and 
  they're angry. 
   
  PARADOX 
  What  of  the  tightening  of  magic?    And  what  of 
  every  mage's bane — Paradox?  Fear not, it still exists. 
  Your  Hermetics  have   as   much  chance  of  killing them- 
    
  selves as they do of killing vampires. Certainly the mages 
  can't go all out with the ever-encroaching shadow of 
  Paradox everywhere! 
  Well, yes and no. True, the Arts are tougher to pull off. 
  And Paradox is still a potent threat. But remember that 
  vampires do not count as Sleepers when it comes to 
  determining whether an Effect is vulgar. And Hermetic 
  magic is coincidental inside a Hermetic Sanctum — and, 
  quite possibly, inside a vampiric one. After all, don't 
  vampires believe in the occult? 
  Therefore, a battle inside a Chantry of either side is 
  probably the only opportunity a Hermetic has in which he 
  can get away with coincidental high ritual magic. This 
  freedom should not be underestimated. If warrior mages 
  suddenly realize that their destructive Arts are coincidental 
  whenever they purge the vampires, won't they try to keep 
  the purges going for as long as possible ? Despite all its 
  carnage, this war is popular because mages can use their 
  Arts without fear. This popularity generates a positive 
  feedback loop, encouraging more assaults against the 
  Tremere.  
   
  RETRIBUTION 
  Vampires,    who  have  other  concerns  at  the  moment 
  (and  have  had  them  for  thousands  of  years),  will  most  
  
   
   Appendix: The Blood Curse        67 
  likely be taken completely by surprise by the Traditions' 
  offensives. After all, the real planners and schemers think 
  in terms of centuries or millennia, and they aren't used to 
  the sudden wrenching threat that these mere mortals pose. 
  It is possible, however, that the vampires have spies within 
  the Order and might be tipped off. Either way, when the 
  retaliatory strike comes, it will be big, and it will hurt. This 
  war isn't a cakewalk. The massasa have already survived an 
  attempted purge by the Order, and they've also survived 
  centuries of intrigue, backbiting and outright hostility in 
  their own world. They aren't simply going to be punching 
  bags for pissed-off mages. 
   
  MIRED 
  After the initial flurry of battle, the war bogs down 
  into a stalemate, with the Hermetics realizing that the 
  crusade might have been a Bad Idea. The obvious 
  solution has not worked, and now things are much, much 
  worse. 
  Compare the events in Blood Treachery to some of 
  the United States' international conflicts like Vietnam. 
  The Order of Hermes expects a quick and simple war. 
  As masters of the Ars Essentiae, the Hermetics believe 
  that they can stride in quickly, wipe out a bunch of 
  bloodsuckers and go on their merry way richer for the 
  trouble. There aren't any 800-year-old Hermetic Masters 
  left to tell them the perils of the first Mossasa War; the 
  young novices can and do make the same mistakes as 
  their elders. When the war isn't fought on the Hermetic 
  terms, and when the vampires' formidable defenses 
  become apparent, matters quickly spiral downward into 
  a hellish nightmare. Suddenly Hermetic mages who've 
  never raised a weapon in their lives must be prepared to 
  defend against angry vampires who blame all wizards 
  for the trouble, while the vampires must develop ways to 
  counter these terribly dangerous magicians. Neither side 
  will best the other quickly or cheaply. The Hermetics' 
  belief in their superiority leads to violence and death for 
  both parties, even for those who had nothing to do with 
  the initial conflict. 
   
  A Tangled Web 
  Once it becomes apparent that the Hermetics aren't 
  going to waltz in, cap a few vampires and solve all their 
  problems, the political situation within the Order will 
  explode. Blame will be laid, accusations will be made, 
  certamen challenges will be issued, and the already tenuous 
  political framework within the Order will nearly collapse. 
  How will the players' characters deal with the chaos? 
  Will   they   be   hawks  or  doves?      Will  they  attempt  a 
  political takeover? Will they try to bring about the end of 
  the war? The Storyteller should present a multitude of 
  options from which the players may choose. If the 
  players decide on their own path, so much the better. 
   
  OTHER INTERESTED PARTIES 
  As much as the Hermetics would like to ignore this 
  fact when it becomes inconvenient, their actions do not 
  exist in a vacuum. When a Tradition declares war on 
  some supernatural faction, the repercussions should 
  shake the World of Darkness. (Note: If you don't want a 
  huge crossover game, keep these aftershocks simple. If 
  you're going more epic in scope, start throwing in 
  repercussions as you see fit.) 
  First of all, how will the other Traditions take to the 
  idea of the Order attempting to annihilate a group of 
  vampires? The Hermetics will almost certainly attempt 
  to enlist other Tradition mages -Akashic warriors, 
  Celestial priests, Verbena healers and Euthanatos 
  assassins — in their quixotic crusade. It's up to the 
  individual mages, of course. No Tradition will endorse 
  the Order's actions unilaterally, since it's not the others' 
  concern. 
  What will be of concern to the Traditions is the 
  inevitable assault upon them. After all, vampires don't 
  understand the different Traditions any more than the 
  Order understands the undead. If vampiric lackeys 
  misidentify a Verbena coven as a Hermetic Chantry, 
  things will get ugly very quickly. Once other Traditions 
  come under fire, they will demand to know why the 
  Order has brought this carnage upon the Council. And 
  the Order had better come up with a very good reason, or 
  its already shaky standing within the Council could be 
  jeopardized permanently. 
  And what of the Technocracy? The Union certainly 
  wouldn't mind having two groups of Reality Deviants 
  wiping each other out — as long as they do so quietly. 
  The instant a huge battle gets out of control, however, 
  the MiBs will be out in force, looking to put away any 
  creature brandishing a ritual dagger. Considering the 
  scale and power of Hermetic magic, the odds of the 
  Union taking an interest in the affair are very good 
  indeed. 
  Orphans who don't have a safe hiding place will 
  almost certainly get pulled into the mess. The Hollow 
  Ones, with their fascination with all things undead, are 
  particularly vulnerable. But any Orphan tied into the 
  occult underground stands a very good chance of be-
  coming a pawn — or victim — of either side.  
   
  
   
  68        Blood Treachery 
   
  Nephandi who hear about the conflict will encourage 
  it, of course. There might even be a Fallen Hermetic still 
  within the Order, pushing mages subtly to make deadly 
  decisions. How individual Nephandi deal with the war is 
  up to the Storyteller, but they will not pass on an 
  opportunity to deliver the killing blow to the Order. 
  Marauders might be attracted to the sheer dynamism of a 
  fierce pyrotechnic battle, but by and large, they have 
  bigger fish to fry. 
  The potential exists for other repercussions, as well. 
  After all, once mages begin laying siege to the 
  established order of vampires, the full weight of all the 
  undead should come to bear on the Order. Again, 
  vampires don't get to live forever by rolling over or 
  standing 
  around 
  clueless; 
  they'll 
  set 
  up 
  their 
  counterstrikes, especially when the Order's haphazard 
  strikes start landing near important, influential and 
  paranoid vampires. 
  And you can be damn sure that everyone who deals 
  with the undead will be sure to take advantage of the 
  mess. Vampires have to steal blood to survive, and they 
  must lie, cheat and kill to hide themselves among 
  humanity. A society of such creatures must, perforce, 
  subsist on treachery. When one vampire dies, others may 
  rush in to take her position and power. Vampires will 
  approach the mages to make hesitant alliances or to bilk 
  mages into taking care of the vampires' problems. The 
  undead will even use the opportunity to expand their 
  own ranks; chop off one head of the hydra, and two 
  more show up. The more that mages become threats, the 
  more that the really old, powerful vampires will turn 
  their attention to the wizards. The war naturally escalates 
  until one side or the other has nothing left to give. 
  This escalation leads hunters, both mortal and 
  supernatural into the fray. The Inquisition should fairly 
  wet itself at the chance to rid the world of both living 
  and undead heretics. The Arcanum will duck and cover 
  when the fire starts flying, although its investigators 
  might sift through the ashes. Governments will certainly 
  want to know why houses all across the world are 
  suddenly devoured in flame. The dangerous fanatics, the 
  new hunters that are emerging, are having a conniption 
  fit trying to figure out which ones to kill first. 
   
  Again, how far this escalation goes is up to the 
  ambition of the Storyteller. But keep in mind that this 
  war is not a self-contained conflict; it will spill over. 
   
  THE MORTAL WORLD 
  The conflict of wizards and vampires will, of course, 
  spill over into the everyday mortal world. Both the Order 
  and the undead have vast influence on the mundane 
  world, notably in the occult, university and financial 
  realms. What happens when the puppet strings start 
  getting cut? 
  The occult community will be more or less paralyzed 
  by this war, as neither vampire nor mage can devote the 
  time to manage contacts effectively. Each side will 
  almost certainly attempt to take out, subvert or steal the 
  other's influence as well. The universities will feel the 
  recoil, and the Order and the vampires will certainly try 
  to bankrupt each other. 
  It is during this struggle that the political character 
  will come in most handy. Mages who keep ties to their 
  mortal contacts can have a field day. Vampires must use 
  human intermediaries for much of their work. (It's 
  unavoidable when you can't go out during the day and 
  you can't figure out a car's transmission — much less a 
  computer — because you were educated during the 
  1600s.) Therefore, mages just need to make a couple of 
  pokes at the bloodsuckers and then watch to see whose 
  strings get pulled. Of course, the double game is the 
  most dangerous. Vampires have had years to put their 
  minions in place. The crafty ones will happily let a few 
  pawns fall in order to draw the mages into their traps, or 
  to put the mages into position against their own enemies. 
  Also in the mortal world, mages need to watch out 
  for friends and family. Vampires are killers; few of them 
  have any compunctions about using and discarding the 
  friends, family or lovers of their enemies. Mages aren't 
  so lucky. A cabal must watch out for not only its 
  influence and interests, but for the mortals it protects or 
  relies on. Some vampires relish the irony of transforming 
  the hapless mortals into monsters. Mages aren't the only 
  ones who can suffer that fate either. A mage's family 
  may well join the ranks of the undead, and perhaps even 
  betray her and make her into a vampire as well! 
  
   
   Appendix: The Blood Curse        69 
  TEMPTATION AND FALL 
  The horror that is unleashed when a few 
  foolhardy Tytalans explore the mystery of 
  vampire blood cannot be minimized. The 
  Appendix lists the exact rules mechanics 
  for dealing with ghoul mages; this section 
  deals with the dramatic implications. 
   
  IMBIBING THE BLOOD OF DEMONS 
  Vampire blood is compelling. It beck-
  ons, it calls, it is the siren song of dark power. Any mage 
  who comes in contact with it can hear that song. It's easy 
  to say that any mage who drinks blood is stupid. It's 
  harder to hold a vial of that crimson liquid — sensing the 
  ungodly power contained within — and deny the urge to 
  consume it. 
  Again, players may know that vampire blood is the 
  worst thing in the world to ingest, but their characters 
  should have every opportunity to rationalize their deci-
  sion. After all, what could one vial do? It's just a liquid 
  Quintessence matrix, right? 
  Vampire blood creates a high beyond any mortal 
  drug. Moreover, the physical effects — strength, healing, 
  endurance -- are almost instantaneous. These benefits 
  should be more than enough to convince any mage that 
  one little taste is the ultimate free lunch. 
  For those who are insistent that they'd never take that 
  trip, it's not untenable for the Storyteller to place 
  temptations along the way. A persistent and cunning 
  mage can solve most problems, but becoming a ghoul is 
  so much easier. It's quick, it's painless, the taint goes 
  away after a turning of the moon, and it can be used to 
  solve so many difficulties. Need to heal an injury 
  quickly? Need some extra strength? Need that little 
  boost of magical energy? It's tempting — so don't be 
  afraid to put mages into places where they are sorely 
  tempted. People are tested all the time when they have 
  something they dearly want and an easy means to get it. 
  Give the mages that chance, let them find ways to 
  mitigate or minimize the problems, then let life spring its 
  little twists on them so that they regret taking the quick 
  and simple path.  
   
  EXPOSED 
  Once   House   Tytalus'   dirty   little  secret  is ex-
  posed,    things  will come to a head. Most Quaesitori 
  will  interpret  their actions as Diabolism,   punishable 
  by  death  (or  possibly  Gilgul).    Those   Tytalans   who 
  have vampire blood in their veins will be declared 
  criminals. The rest of the house must make a decision 
  between House Tytalus and the Order itself: Which is 
  more important? 
   
  ALTERNATIVE VIEWPOINTS 
  Although the Order of Hermes is central to the events 
  in Blood Treachery, there are a number of different ways 
  to run such a chronicle. The Order isn't the center of the 
  universe, after all, no matter what its mages want to 
  believe. 
   
  OTHER TRADITIONS IN THE WAR 
  As noted previously, the other Traditions can't and 
  won't be left out of the Order's little police action. 
  Paranoid vampires may well start campaigns to find and 
  eliminate any sorts of wizards. If a few unlucky 
  Akashics and Verbena get caught in the crossfire, then 
  that's just an unfortunate side effect of the battle. It does, 
  however, tend to mobilize the other Traditions quickly. 
  No matter what they may feel, the other Traditions 
  have to defend themselves against the undead, especially 
  once vampires start fighting back and causing casualties 
  among all the Traditions. In some cases, the results seem 
  preordained; in others, matters are a little muddier. 
  The Celestial Chorus, Akashic Brotherhood, Verbena 
  and Euthanatos come out as the Order of Hermes' allies 
  in the whole venture, simply because they either find 
  vampirism repugnant to start with or because they suffer 
  too many hits from the vampires. Choristers use their 
  faith to drive back and slay the undead; Euthanatoi hope 
  to return vampires to the proper cycle through the Good 
  Death. Akashic Brothers, appalled at the perversion of 
  life and Do, use their formidable combat skills to counter 
  the natural resilience of the undead. And the Verbena 
  command potent life magic while they also suffer the 
  attacks of vampires who can't tell a witch from a wizard. 
  In each case, the Tradition contributes its support heavily 
  (if not unanimously) in the war, but it also suffers 
  corresponding losses. 
  Cultists of Ecstasy tend to skirt the edges of the fray. 
  Most vampires can't tell a Cultist from any other artist or 
  extremist. Thus, the Cult suffers correspondingly small 
  losses. With their Time magic, the Cult can also 
  
   
  70        Blood Treachery  
  get a hazy picture of the vamp ire-Tradition war and 
  recognize the perils of the horrid mistake before diving 
  in. This foresight keeps them largely out, except where 
  individual allegiances call a cabal together. 
  Dreamspeakers are divided on issues of this nature. 
  On one hand, vampires clearly violate the natural order. 
  On the other hand, many of the more outspoken 
  Dreamspeakers would be just as happy to let the Order 
  finally die for its arrogance. The Dreamspeakers 
  probably have more to fear from werewolves than 
  vampires anyway. Once magicians and shamans get a 
  reputation for attacking other supernatural creatures, the 
  uneasy 
  detente 
  between 
  groups 
  evaporates 
  into 
  suspicious hostility. 
  The Sons of Ether and Virtual Adepts remain 
  involved in the Hermetics' war only on individual levels. 
  That is, vampires don't generally know enough to go 
  after these Technomancers. In return, the two groups 
  usually don't care what vampires do. Some few might 
  find the undead interesting subjects of study, but the 
  majority would rather keep their necks intact. Ironically, 
  the Order often lacks the technological resources that it 
  would like when fighting modern vampires — which, in 
  turn, gives House Thig all the more prestige for its 
  position. 
   
  TECNOCRACY  VS. VAMPIRES  
  The Technocracy usually leaves vampires alone. The 
  bloodsuckers are a danger to humanity, of course, but 
  most of them lie low, don't seem to cause much trouble 
  and cover their own tracks just out of a need for survival. 
  A single rogue wizard can cause much more trouble, and 
  the Traditions tend to be more flamboyant than the 
  undead. Of course, such was the case before matters got 
  out of hand in Bangladesh. 
  At this point, the Technocracy is really starting to eye 
  vampires and to notch them up as a major threat. 
  "Project Sunburst" is the new Technocratic initiative to 
  catalog, survey and eliminate the undead. However, the 
  Technocracy is way behind the curve. Progenitors are 
  convinced that they can find a rational, scientific 
  explanation for the vampire syndrome. The idea of 
  10,000-year-old beings of phenomenal power just hasn't 
  really sunk into the heads of the Technocrats yet. 
  Technocrats are scientists, after all, not people who buy 
  into crazy legends! 
  So  what  does this mean for the Technocracy?   
  Well,    it's divided.    Some Technocrats — like those 
  involved in the whole mess in India — are rabidly 
  convinced  that  vampires  represent  a  far  greater threat 
  
   
   Appendix: The Blood Curse        71 
  than the dying Traditions. Others believe that vampires, 
  as relics of the supernatural past, are well on their way to 
  dying out or disappearing. (These last sorts generally 
  don't have a clue about exactly how skilled vampires 
  have become at hiding among the Masses.) Considering 
  the lack of solid Technocratic leadership in the wake of 
  the Reckoning, Technocracy groups wind up having to 
  set their own local policies regarding vampires. 
  Obviously, Technocrats are most likely to engage 
  vampires 
  if 
  the 
  vampires 
  stumble 
  into 
  them 
  inadvertently, or if vampires show up while the 
  Technocrats are annihilating some errant Traditionalists. 
  The sorts of conflicts that occur vary with the 
  Technocrats. New World Order and Syndicate agents 
  tend to use money and political connections to smoke 
  out the vampires and force them into untenable 
  situations. Progenitors study them, and Iterators and 
  Void Engineers either watch them carefully or actually 
  hunt the predators. 
  Much  like  the  Hermetic  crusade against the 
  undead, a fight of Technocrats versus vampires can 
  devolve into a nasty battle. However, where the Tra-
  ditions tend to rely on individual daring and flexibility, 
  the Technocracy  counters vampiric subtlety with its 
  own influence. For the most part, Technocratic opera-
  tives don't have the centuries of experience that jaded 
  vampires do, but they do get to pull on the strings of 
  mortal organizations that have been in place for hun-
  dreds of years. Better still, the Technocracy can often 
  claim legitimate direct control over some government 
  branch  or  investigative agency,    while  vampires  must  
  move through much more subtle channels. What does 
  this mean for the fighting? A vampire or group of 
  vampires will tend to lay plots to feel out the enemy and 
  lead it into a vulnerable position. By contrast, once the 
  Technocracy thinks it has the measure of the undead, its 
  troops—Awakened and otherwise — leap in for the kill. 
  Obviously, the Technocracy isn't going to be in the 
  know the minute the Order decides to fight vampires. 
  (It's not like the Union gets memos from the Traditions.) 
  Rather, Technocratic investigation will crop up once the 
  fighting lights up a few properties on both sides. Patterns 
  of unnatural disasters, influential politicians assassinated 
  and entire families wiped out will eventually lead 
  Technocratic statisticians to the fact that some sort of 
  secret war has heated up. More than likely, though, 
  given their current disarray, the Technocrats will stay 
  out, let both sides kill each other and just clean up the 
  resultant mess before the Masses catch wind of the 
  disturbance. 
  Of course, if your players have Technocratic char-
  acters, everything can go to Hell that much more 
  quickly.... 
   
  AFTERMATH 
  What happens afterward is up to you, of course. Does 
  the Order shatter? Will a strong leader emerge to    i save 
  the day? Will the old guard be abandoned? Does the 
  Technocracy win? Will wonder and knowledge be    ' 
  restored to the darkness? 
  As the lady said, endings are never written.... 
  
   
   
  
   
  Appendix: The Blood Curse        73 
   
   
   
   
  In tombs of gold and lapus lazuli 
  Bodies of holy men and women exude 
  Miraculous oil, odour of violet. 
  But under heavy loads of trampled clay 
  Lie bodies of the vampires full of blood; 
  Their shrouds are bloody and their lips are wet. 
   — W.B. Yeats, "Oil and Blood"  
   
   
   
   
   
   
  These are the game mechanics for ev-
  erything that's been covered so far - 
  ghoul mages, the ancient formulae, spells 
  specifically for use against vampires and 
  new Hermetic spells to break the chains 
  of Stasis that bind them.   You can also 
  find details on some of the Umbrood —  
  new and old - - that Hermetics deal with in the course of 
  the second Massasa War. Remember to use them at your 
  discretion; if they unbalance your game, change or 
  ignore them as you see fit. This is knowledge, after all, 
  and if there's a lesson to be learned from this book, it's 
  that knowledge is only good if it's alive, active and 
  evolving. 
  
   
  74        Blood Treachery  
  GHOUL MAGES: SERVANTS OF THE DEAD 
  So, you've been dying to insert a ghoul 
  mage into your game, eh? Seems like the 
  ultimate in kickassitude! Magic and Disci-
  plines, plus regeneration and a semblance 
  of immortality! Way-unbelievable-cool! 
  How come every mage isn't hopped up on 
  vampire blood? 
  There is a downside, but we'll get to 
  that in a second. Patience, young thrall — 
  er, accomplice. Don't you want to know what the 
  benefits are first? Yes. 
   
  AN INQUISITION OF CAPTIVE VITAE 
  Needless to say, the war with the massasa stimulates 
  a lot of research into the nature of vampires. The 
  Bonisagi have recovered quite a few gems from the 
  sorcerous vampires' chantries, including two copies of an 
  ancient text. While neither seems complete, the two 
  combined form an illuminating quasi-history of vampiric 
  legend.  
  This text, referred to as The Book of Nod, claims that 
  all vampires are descended from Cain (whose name, 
  according to the Celestial Chorus, is misspelled 
  consistently throughout the text), who was not a Biblical 
  metaphor but an actual man, the son of Adam and Eve 
  and the first murderer. For his crime, God cursed him 
  into darkness forever. Now, Judeo-Christian references 
  aside, if a Celestine, one of the Pure Ones, or the One 
  Itself cursed a being, and the curse lasted untold 
  millennia later, how much power resides in the blood — 
  the vessel of the curse? 
  Furthermore, the Resonance of vampire blood is 
  hideous. Analyses of the samples taken by the Hermetics 
  yield one finding consistently: There is power in the 
  blood, but it is the dark blood of death, not the fluid of 
  all life. Every ounce of vampire blood is life stolen from 
  another creature. If the Resonance from this substance is 
  the residue from a curse placed upon the first murderer, 
  it represents every primal, base, profane urge in the 
  world. 
  
   
   Appendix: The Blood Curse        75 
  POWER GAMERS 
  ATE MY VAMPIRE METHUSELAH 
   
  Remember: It's your game. We've put these rules for 
  ghoul mages in to add depth to the game. We did not put 
  these rules in so that power gamers everywhere would 
  have an excuse to run roughshod over Storytellers, 
  destroying everything in their path with Forces 3, Prime 
  2 and giga-Celerity. 
  If you have problems with players who insist on 
  loading their characters up on vampire blood every 
  chronicle, you have two options. First of all, use the 
  disadvantages of ghouldom to your advantage. The 
  negatives of being a sycophant to an undead monster far 
  outweigh that extra Strength success. If they really want 
  this kind of addiction, make sure they pay for it. 
  The second option is simple. If you find that ghoul 
  mages are unbalancing your game, don't allow them. 
  Ignore them. Use them as Storyteller characters, for an 
  unexpected twist. 
  If your players get uppity, just ghoul their characters 
  to some of those old vampires who are into torture, mind 
  games and a little judicious random bloodshed. That'll 
  solve a lot of problems. 
   
   
  In game terms, vampire blood is disgusting. It doesn't 
  matter if the sample comes from the saintliest vampire 
  weeping for lost mortality — it is blood ripped from 
  living creatures to sustain the unnatural existence of an 
  abomination. The aura that emanates from it is black as 
  death. But death has its own perverse appeal, does it not? 
  It's abhorrent, yet compelling. Be sure to emphasize the 
  dual nature of the blood in the game. If players treat 
  vials of vampire blood like shots of Jagermeister, then 
  there's a problem. Then again, a character who treats the 
  blood so cavalierly is probably too far gone to care. 
   
  THE SILVER LINING 
  Oh, but we don't mean to frighten you — after all, 
  love and death, Eros and Thanatos are concepts that 
  Hermetics can appreciate, and they're rolled up into one 
  wine-red package for easy consumption. Plus, imbibing 
  this substance certainly brings with it its own unique 
  benefits. 
  Please, relax. When you hear what this blood will do 
  for you, any misgivings you have will evaporate like 
  snow in the sun. 
  ONE SINGULAR SENSATION 
  When a mage first drinks vampire blood, the sensation 
  is like nothing he has ever before experienced. It is a rush 
  par none, one for which a Cultist of Ecstasy would give his 
  right kidney. It is concentrated power, and even the 
  weakest mage feels that power running through his body. In 
  fact, players might need to make a Willpower roll 
  (difficulty 8) to ensure that their characters don't get the 
  Addiction Flaw to represent the psychological dependency 
  that might instantly form from the rush. 
  For starters, mages who've drunk of vampire blood are 
  now ghouls, with all the benefits thereof. They can use the 
  ingested blood to heal injury at a rate of two levels of 
  bashing or one level of lethal damage for about each pint 
  imbibed. Furthermore, for as long as they drink vampire 
  blood, mages on the blood bag do not age. Other mages 
  who sense the ghoul with Life or Entropy magic will notice 
  this stasis. 
  A mage may also spend the blood he has ingested as if 
  it were Quintessence. Essentially, the mage harnesses the 
  magical properties of vampire blood to fuel his Effects. Of 
  course, you can't just meditate at a Node to regain vampire 
  blood. 
  On your character sheet, keep track of how much 
  vampire blood your mage currently has in his system. 
  Mages, like humans, can ingest up to three pints of blood 
  above and beyond their normal human blood capacity, 
  although this amount will cause a mage to feel bloated and 
  nauseated. (It's a small price to pay, we guarantee.) 
   
  POWERS OF DEATH 
  A ghoul mage gets an automatic success for all actions 
  involving the Strength Attribute, such as lifting or 
  punching. (Yes, this does apply to damage rolls.) The mage 
  can even inflict lethal damage with his bare hands. Indeed, 
  a mage who gains this rush may at first have difficulty 
  controlling his newfound strength. (If you use Vampire: 
  The Masquerade, all ghoul mages get the first level of the 
  Potence Discipline.) Mages also have the opportunity to 
  develop other Disciplines, but doing so takes a lot of time 
  and training. 
  The powers easiest for vampires to learn are the 
  physical ones. With time, the mage's strength may increase 
  to superhuman levels. Ghoul mages also tend to become 
  tougher   than  normal  mortals.    Better  still,  a  mage  
  who  manages  to  survive  quite  a  bit  of punishment 
  while "under the blood" may become so unnaturally 
  resilient   — i.e., his flesh may become so corpselike — 
  that  he  can  resist  even  Pattern damage.   (In game terms, 
  
   
  76        Blood Treachery  
  a mage can gain an extra soak die that's usable against 
  any damage for 15 experience points. As long as a mage  
  is a ghoul, he gains a full Stamina soak roll against lethal 
  damage as well as bashing damage.) 
  Vampires have other mystical means to hunt and  trap 
  their prey as well. A mage could develop paranormal 
  senses, unnatural stealth or phenomenal charisma, all 
  tainted by the fact that these "powers" are the tools of 
  predators who feed on intelligent prey. Typically, such 
  powers are extremely difficult to develop. Most 
  vampires only have a few such powers, and a mage can 
  only learn the few that are already known to a vampiric 
  "blood donor." On the flip side, these powers often give 
  the wielder a quick and easy way out, a temptation to 
  deal with situations through power instead of personal-
  ity. It may be simple to make someone like you, for 
  instance, but it is also manipulative; it may be easy to 
  hide in plain sight rather than face up to responsibility. 
  (Each such power costs 25 experience points, and it 
  performs a simple feat similar to a first or second level 
  Sphere Effect, without Paradox.) 
  The catch, of course, is that someone has to teach 
  these powers, and vampires aren't especially known for 
  their generosity. Physical strength and resilience may 
  develop naturally, given time, but for something like 
  shapeshifting or shadowcasting, the mage had better be 
  willing to find a rare vampire who studies esoteric 
  powers, and the mage had better be extraordinarily 
  persuasive. Remember, vampires tend to be pretty edgy 
  about people who can find them in their hiding places. 
  Finally, excessive vampiric powers sap the mage of 
  Willpower. They're a temptation to take an easy solution 
  to problems instead of working through life's difficulties. 
  Worse still, they're the tools used to hunt humans, 
  deceive them and steal their life. That little bit of extra 
  strength comes free. The next vampire power a mage 
  picks up — hey, that comes free as well. But the third 
  power of the undead — any power — requires the 
  permanent expenditure of a Willpower point in addition 
  to experience point costs. In essence, your mage has 
  grown overly reliant on the strength of undead blood, 
  and he no longer exercises his human judgment and will. 
  Every additional trick or power from three onward 
  requires this Willpower expenditure. Therefore, if you 
  have a mage with five different powers of the undead, he 
  loses three permanent Willpower. 
  Not that it matters, of course, since you'll be able to 
  move at light speed and shrug off bullets. All without the 
  threat of Paradox. Sounds good, doesn't it? And all from a 
  little bit of vampire blood. Who would have thought? 
  Why, you don't seem as enthused as you were 
  beforehand .... 
  THAUMATURGY, NECROMANCY 
  AND OTHER VAMPIRE MAGIC 
  This sidebar assumes that you use Vampire: The 
  Masquerade. Naturally, all Disciplines are magical, but 
  some are more magical than others. That is, most Disci-
  plines help vampires to hunt and kill their prey. The 
  more strange Disciplines tend to have more to do with 
  manipulation of the blood through intense study and a 
  twisting of the undead curse. 
  Thaumaturgy, 
  Necromancy 
  and 
  certain 
  other 
  Disciplines from Vampire: The Masquerade cover 
  effects generated by enforcing the user's will and ritual 
  upon the power inherent in vampire blood. They're not 
  all-consuming, but they are flexible. The problem is that 
  they don't fall into the same category of inherent magic 
  as most other vampire powers: They're mutations of the 
  undead curse, not natural capabilities. 
  For Mage purposes, treat vampire Chimerstry, 
  Quietus, Thaumaturgy and Necromancy as magical 
  Disciplines of this sort. The latter two naturally come 
  from the use of modified magical ritual to use vampire 
  blood for mystical ends. The former two are a little more 
  esoteric; they stem from ancient magical principles that 
  have existed for so long that their vampire users now 
  tend to consider the powers natural outgrowths of the 
  undead 
  condition. 
  Nevertheless, 
  they're 
  magical 
  manipulations. 
  Mages who drink vampire blood cannot learn to use 
  these powers. Such things tread closely upon the 
  boundaries between static and dynamic magic. The 
  interference of the vampire curse with a mage's Avatar is 
  bad enough; trying to twist the curse into some other 
  bizarre shape against all expectations of Awakened 
  magic just doesn't work. A mage might study these 
  effects as curiosities, but he can't use them. 
  Consider this rule carved in stone. If a mage wants 
  flame-conjuring powers, that's what Forces and Prime 
  are for. No exceptions. 
  
   
   Appendix: The Blood Curse        77 
  THE UNFORTUNATE 
  SIDE EFFECTS 
  Yes, believe it or not, drinking the unholy ichor that 
  fuels a corpse has its downsides. Even if you're a mage. 
  Especially if you're a mage. 
   
  FROZEN IN TIME 
  A human ghoul needs to ingest about one pint of 
  vampire blood a month in order to maintain his "im-
  mortality." If a ghoul goes more than a month -actually, 
  one full cycle of the moon — without drinking vampire 
  blood, he reverts to a normal human again. 
  This problem isn't so big if a person drinks just one 
  pint. However, a ghoul who has been hooked for months 
  or longer finds that quitting the blood has unfortunate 
  physical consequences. Once a person stops drinking 
  blood, her heretofore suspended aging process rushes to 
  catch up to her actual age. Therefore, a five-month ghoul 
  will age five months within the span of one. A 20-year 
  ghoul will age two years in a month. 
  If a human (or mage) remains a ghoul for a period of 
  time longer than her natural life span, losing the blood is 
  fatal. Once she is off vampire blood, her body will age 
  decades in the span of a month, killing her. Mages can 
  forestall this problem with Entropy 4/Life 2 magic, but 
  such a ritual requires constant upkeep. This Effect will 
  allow the caster to resume a natural aging cycle; it will 
  not freeze her age as the vampire blood once did. Indeed, 
  the mage may well suffer Pattern Bleeding or Paradox as 
  her Pattern rushes to catch up with the demands of the 
  universal cycle and is unnaturally held static. (For 
  immortality Effects, Masters of the Art offers some 
  solutions.) 
   
  A SOUL IN CHAINS 
  Besides the aforementioned sapping of Willpower 
  through excessive power-use, vampire blood blocks the 
  will of a mage in another way: addiction. 
  You see, vampire blood is not physically addictive — 
  the biochemical properties of the blood are similar to 
  normal human blood. However, it is psychologically 
  addictive. Worse yet, psychological addiction appears to 
  be a secondary effect when compared with the blood's 
  strongest detriment: spiritual addiction. 
  Vampire blood doesn't attach itself to neurotrans-
  mitters — to use Technocratic terms — it corrupts the 
  very soul of an individual. When a human consumes 
  vitae, the human soul becomes addicted and stunted.  
  (As a side note,   normal ghouls almost never Awaken; 
  their   souls are too weak to arise.   Those rare   few  who 
  manage to Awaken are usually poached by the 
  Nephandi.) This addiction manifests physically in the 
  halt of aging and the physical craving for blood, but its 
  root is spiritual. The decay of the soul freezes the body. 
  Now, one might think that a mage, with an Awak-
  ened Avatar, would be less susceptible to the perils of 
  addiction, but one's propensity to become addicted 
  depends on both the mage and his Avatar. A self-aware 
  Avatar might be utterly repelled by the notion of 
  consuming dead, corrupting blood. On the other hand, 
  the rush of power can hook a cagey Avatar easily. Any 
  way you slice it, the more blood a mage consumes, he 
  runs a greater risk of corrupting and addicting his 
  Avatar. Again, this addiction isn't physical. However, a 
  five-point Avatar going through withdrawal can make a 
  mage's life a living hell. 
  In game terms, a mage can drink a number of pints of 
  vampire blood up to his Avatar Background rating 
  without worrying about getting his Avatar addicted. This 
  count is cumulative, though. If your character has a 
  three-point Avatar, she can drink vampire blood three 
  times in her life without fearing addiction, barring the 
  results of the Willpower roll that determines whether she 
  herself is addicted. But keep in mind that buying a five-
  point Avatar isn't necessarily the best way to prevent 
  blood addiction. After all, if said Avatar is on drink 
  number three, it might have ideas of its own. 
  Once a mage's Avatar is addicted, it will go to any 
  lengths to feed its need, forcing the mage down paths he 
  never thought he would traverse. The more powerful the 
  Avatar, the worse it gets. A one-point Avatar will be 
  addicted easily, but it won't force a mage to deal with the 
  lowest of vampire pushers to get its fix. 
  Once an Avatar is addicted, the mage cannot increase 
  his Arete at all. All magical progress halts. A mage 
  cannot learn Spheres, as the Avatar starts insisting that 
  the mage learn vampiric powers instead. After all, the 
  mage has an external power source — why should the 
  Avatar exert itself? Furthermore, the mage can no longer 
  regain Quintessence by meditating at a Node. The only 
  way to fuel one's personal Quintessence is to drink 
  vampire blood. (The mage can extract Quintessence 
  from vampire blood using Prime 3, but only from 
  vampire blood.) An addicted Avatar is a neon beacon for 
  demons, Nephandi, infernalists, malefic spirits and every 
  other corrupt and foul entity in the World of Darkness. 
  The Avatar will go out of its way to attract attention 
  from any source that might feed its cravings. 
  The  true  horror,     however,     comes  after  years 
  of ingesting the poisoned liquid.   Add the mage's Avatar 
  
   
  78        Blood Treachery  
  and Arete. That's how many years the Avatar can survive 
  addiction. Once those years are over, the mage loses a 
  point of her Avatar rating for every year after that. Once 
  the Avatar rating reaches zero, the mage starts losing 
  Arete. If the mage is reduced to both zero Avatar and 
  Arete, she is effectively Gilguled. Her soul has wasted 
  away into nothing. Her magic is gone, and she is reduced 
  to a hollow, blood-addicted servitor of whatever vampire 
  she can score from. 
  Is all lost? Not necessarily. Getting one's Avatar oft 
  the blood is an incredible task, but it's not impossible as 
  long as the mage hasn't reduced her Avatar and Arete 
  ratings to zero. Avatar addiction cannot be bought off 
  with experience points or cured with magic; only a 
  Seeking can cure the mage. The Storyteller is 
  encouraged to take advantage of this unique opportunity 
  — think Naked Lunch or The Lost Weekend in Hell — 
  and the mage will probably not succeed without a titanic 
  effort of will. If the mage should succeed, he will have to 
  be wary of vampire blood constantly thereafter. If a 
  recovered addict is ever presented with the opportunity 
  to consume vampire blood, his player must make a 
  Willpower roll (difficulty 10). If he doesn't succeed on 
  this roll, his character lapses instantly into Avatar 
  addiction once again. 
   
  THE BLOOD BOND 
  Perhaps the only fate worse than Avatar addiction is 
  the blood bond. If a mage drinks from the same vampire 
  three times, he is bound. A mage who could have shaken 
  the world is now the groveling pawn of a monster. 
  Under the bond, the mage suffers all the penalties of 
  Avatar addiction. Furthermore, he is the utter and 
  complete servitor of the vampire in question. It's not 
  merely a matter of a vampire controlling the mage, 
  however; the mage wants to serve this vampire, because 
  the bloodsucker has become the most important focus of 
  the mage's life. Ascension, the war and his magical 
  studies all fall by the wayside as the mage devotes his 
  life to serving his new master. 
  It a mage is bound, his Willpower is effectively 
  halved when dealing with his blood donor. To even think 
  of disagreeing with his master requires an extraordinary 
  effort of the will (i.e., a roll of difficulty 9); defying or 
  attacking his master is almost unthinkable. The bond 
  may be stronger or weaker, depending on how the 
  vampire treats his toy, but even if the vampire is 
  merciless with the mage, the mage has no choice but to 
  stay with him. 
  
   
   Appendix: The Blood Curse        79 
  Breaking the bond is a Herculean feat; only the most 
  strong-willed mages could ever hope to escape the 
  chains of servitude. There is a magical solution (Prime 1, 
  Entropy 3, Mind 3, Life 4), but it requires years of work, 
  tremendous study into the secrets of vampire occultism 
  and anatomy, and permanent expenditures of Willpower. 
  How much effort is ultimately up to the Storyteller in 
  question. And then the mage has to deal with his Avatar, 
  who wants the mage to stay so it can get its fix. 
   
  AWAKENED REVENANTS: 
  FRIENDS DON'T LET FRIENDS TWINK OUT 
  For those who have not heard of them, revenants are 
  some rather disgusting little cousins to vampires. Feed a 
  human family with vampire blood for generations, 
  perform some occult manipulations on its children and 
  throw in a dash of sheer revolting anti-social tendencies, 
  and you get revenants. They're self-perpetuating semi-
  ghoul beings that are mortal and largely human, but who 
  inherit extended life-spans, a few vampire powers and a 
  hellish mindset born of an inbred, vampire-dominated 
  family. 
  Assume (generously) that 1000 revenants exist in the 
  World   of   Darkness.     Of  these  1000,     assume 
  (even more generously) that one  percent  possesses  that 
  certain  special  something  needed  to  jaunt  them out of 
   
   
   
  THE UGLY TRUTH 
   
  Players and Storytellers might be asking themselves, 
  "Why are these rules so strict?" Why are we taking such 
  a negative position against ghoul mages ? The reason is 
  that being a ghoul — even if your character is not a 
  mage — is a horrifying existence. A ghoul is a parasite 
  sucking off of a parasite. A ghoul's entire focus in life is 
  the next bit of blood he gets to ingest. A normal 
  enthralled human is bad enough. For a mage to throw 
  away his Avatar, his Path and the dream of Ascension to 
  beg at the feet of a walking corpse for a corrupting 
  sustenance that will annihilate his soul is almost worse 
  than walking gleefully into the Cauls. At least Nephandi 
  can delude themselves into enjoying their existence as 
  destroyers; a ghoul mage only cares about the foul blood 
  that will sustain him for another month. Being a ghoul 
  mage isn't a super-cool way to kick Technocratic or 
  vampire ass; it's one of the worse! fates a mage can bring 
  upon himself. 
  ordinary perceptions and Awaken. Those parameters 
  leave 10 living Awakened revenants. 
  Scratch seven who go off to the Cauls. Those who 
  venerate the first murderer or cultivate sadistically jaded 
  pleasures religiously do not make for upstanding 
  Awakened. They instead shore up the ranks of the 
  Fallen. Three to go. 
  Scratch one more. Call it Paradox, Technocrats, 
  vampires, werewolves or what-have-you. At least one of 
  these uber-revenants will get offed by someone or 
  something offended by her very existence. Eight down; 
  two standing. 
  Of these two remaining — obviously both saintly and 
  discreet revenants -- scratch one. Either this revenant's 
  Avatar is obliterated by the Embrace, or he himself dies 
  slowly and blissfully under the Blood Oath. That leaves 
  one living, un-Fallen, Awakened revenant — under our 
  very generous interpretation — who might see age 40 as 
  an Awakened mage before his own body Gilguls itself. 
  You do not get to play him. 
  An Awakened revenant is a power-gamer's wet 
  dream. He's got Spheres, vampire powers, a life-span 
  (before magic) measured in centuries, a bit of perspec-
  tive on two major factions in the World of Darkness and 
  a built-in character history that's guaranteed not to make 
  anybody think too hard. Why be a simple, studious 
  revenant or a Hermetic scholar when one can combine 
  the two into an unassailable fortress of dots on a 
  character sheet? 
  The question pretty much answers itself. 
  If, however, you are the sort of masochist who 
  actually caves in to players who request this kind of 
  stuff, be aware of your rights. First of all, require the 
  player to purchase the 7-point Merit: Revenant. Second, 
  have the player record a Path of Enlightenment (for the 
  purposes of an Awakened revenant, only the Path of 
  Humanity is truly appropriate, although one might scrape 
  by on Harmony or Honorable Accord). Although the 
  Path will not have a rating, we encourage the Storyteller 
  to do fiendish things to the Awakened revenant who 
  defies her code of morality continually. (One who cannot 
  remain true to herself will find her mystical Path of 
  Thorns assailed by hardship on all sides.) 
  Also, feel free to inflict any horrors you see fit on this 
  creature without providing any extra points at character 
  creation in exchange. Dark Fate? Sure. Nightmares 1 Go 
  for it.    Echoes?    Have a blast. Revenants are the 
  bastard cousins of those cursed by God.  The blossoming 
  
   
  80        Blood Treachery  
  of a shard of the Divine in such a being is not likely to 
  be the blessing one might initially envision. Think of 
  these little punishments as ways of actually paying for 
  the character's many and potent abilities. 
  Honestly, the best advice for anyone who actually wants 
  to play one of these things, however, is to let it go. 
  You're much better off with a character whose history, 
  personality and motivations (rather than her dots) define 
  her. 
   
  MAGIC AND VAMPIRES 
  Inevitably, in chronicles that focus on 
  the interactions between the Order of 
  Hermes and the remnants of the bastard 
  Tremere (or any group of mages and any 
  group of vampires, really), questions will 
  arise about how Supernatural Power X 
  interacts with Supernatural Power Y. 
  Perhaps the two most significant questions 
  of this sort are the following: How does 
  Sphere magic stack up to Disciplines (most especially 
  Thaumaturgy, Sphere magic's closest cousin in the 
  Kindred world)? What can Sphere magic do to the 
  vampiric state itself. 
   Note that this document isn't an iron-clad be-all end-
  all to the interaction of such powers. Hell, your vampires 
  need not even have Disciplines per se; they could just 
  have a collection of mythical capabilities in your Mage 
  game. Furthermore, a Vampire game probably won't see 
  much use for this material. If vampires are the center of 
  the game, they'll dominate the spotlight over those puny 
  magicians. In other words, take a big grain of salt and 
  then check out the Vampire Storytellers Handbook, 
  which has a look from the other side. Figure out whether 
  you're trying to tell a story in Mage terms or Vampire 
  terms, then go for it. If you don't recognize the terms and 
  game-speak in this section, ignore them. 
   
  SPHERE MAGIC VERSUS THAUMIATURGY 
  A chronicle based on the events in Blood Treachery will 
  almost certainly involve magical dueling. It will see 
  titanic, epic battles of wizardry that could shake the 
  pillars of heaven — literally. But the question arises of 
  which style of magic works best? 
  Certainly, in Mage, Sphere magic is ultimately more 
  powerful than vampire spells, but vampire spells have 
  the benefit of not being regurgitated back onto their 
  wielder by the Tellurian. Prime 2, Forces 3 sets you on 
  fire as surely as a vampire's conjuration of fire, and a 
  thaumaturge with the ability to decay wood or exude 
  acid  is  no  stranger  to  the  more  vicious applications 
  of   Entropy.     But   still,    considering   the   events   in 
  this book, victory will come down to who has the 
  advantage when the dice fall. 
  A thaumaturge's player may spend a blood point and 
  roll dice equal to the character's highest Path of 
  Thaumaturgy to use what is essentially anti-magic (as 
  per Prime 2) against Sphere Effects in the Hermetic high 
  ritual paradigm only. Likewise, a Hermetic mage with 
  Prime 2 may spend a point of Quintessence and roll his 
  Arete, just like anti-magic, against Thaumaturgical 
  Paths and rituals only. The case is essentially that of 
  Hermetic versus undead Hermetic. Although hundreds of 
  years of refinement and the twisting of vampire blood 
  have made vampire Thaumaturgy quite different from 
  Hermetic ritual magic, at least a few common bases 
  exist, and the two can contest on a perpendicular sort of 
  conflict. The vampire empowers his effect with blood, 
  the mage uses Quintessence, and both set about burning 
  that energy for their desired ends. The vampire uses its 
  blood to impose vampiric stasis on the Hermetic's 
  magical working, causing it to crumble; the Hermetic 
  hurls the weight of his empowered will at the vampire's 
  power and overcomes it with dynamism. The historical 
  connections between early Hermetic research and early 
  vampire magic make this contest possible. It is precisely 
  the compatibility of the Hermetic and vampire 
  paradigms of sorcery that makes each one so vulnerable 
  to the other. 
  An important side note to this conflict is that 
  vampiric Necromancy -- essentially a specialized form 
  of communion with the dead -- might be countered in a 
  similar fashion by someone who understands its roots. 
  Of course, no Tradition mage indulges in the perverse 
  necrotic principles that vampires use to enrage and 
  shackle the dead, so such interaction is unlikely at best. 
  No other vampiric powers can thus affect, or be 
  affected by, Sphere magic directly, although the clever 
  character will certainly find other ways to compensate. A 
  vampire with phenomenal strength (high Potence) is 
  going to be in for an unpleasant surprise the first time 
  she encounters a mage with a penchant   
  
   
   Appendix: The Blood Curse        81 
  for the Better Body Life Sphere Effect and a pressing 
  need to be very strong, very quickly. Likewise, vampire 
  telepathy will batter down a mental shield as surely as 
  another mage's Telepathy Effect will. In such cases, 
  compare the resultant end effects. A tremendous 
  telekinetic Effect can probably beat a super-strong 
  vampire, while a rudimentary mental shield is unlikely to 
  keep out a determined vampire's telepathic assault. 
   
  UNDOING THE CURSE (GOOD LUCK) 
  Sooner or later, a mage who associates with vampires 
  might ask the question, "Can I change this vampire back 
  into a human being?" 
  Mages who have attempted to bring some life back 
  into the undead find their efforts ultimately for naught. A 
  Life 4/Matter 2 Effect can bring about nearly any change 
  the mage wishes. The atrophied organs will grow back. 
  A heartbeat will resume, blood will flow, and the undead 
  being will be alive again. For the night. Inevitably, no 
  matter how many successes one rolls, no matter how 
  well the Effect performs, the magic fades at the next 
  sunrise. A few vampires, flush with new life, have 
  greeted the sun, overjoyed with their new existence, only 
  to discover that the magic doesn't quite last. 
  Prime magic doesn't work all that well, either. Any 
  attempts to negate the power of the blood either fail, 
  send the vampire reeling into a comatose state or cause 
  the Final Death. 
  Why doesn't this solution last ? The answer is simple: 
  Vampirism is a curse from God. Can you roll more 
  successes than God? 
  It is nearly impossible for a mage to have any lasting 
  effect upon the state of vampirism. Only the vampire can 
  attempt to change his cursed state. A mage's interference 
  would be as fruitful as having a werewolf go on a 
  Seeking for a mage would be — it just makes no sense 
  whatsoever. Such a fundamental change must come from 
  inside. The idea of a mage snapping his fingers and 
  turning a vampire into a normal human being completely 
  undermines the horror of the World of Darkness. From a 
  storytelling perspective, it is a Bad Idea. From a game-
  mechanics perspective, it's more trouble than it's worth. 
  The Vampire Storytellers Handbook mentions a 
  possible means to restore vampires to mortality, but it 
  requires Archmastery in the Sphere of Prime, as well as 
  several other ancillary Spheres. Essentially, the mage 
  must look back in time to the vampire's mortal state, 
  rebuild her dead flesh, reanimate the body, restore the 
  spirit from its corrupted state, halt the progress of 
  undeath and fundamentally rewrite the vampire's soul 
  and Pattern into a wholly different form. And every step 
  of this process needs to be justified in some fashion 
  through the mage's paradigm. Once again: Good luck. 
   
   
   
   
   
  THE HIERARCHY OF THE CELESTIAL UMBROOD 
  The Book of Worlds states that all mages 
  view the High Umbra differently. But if an 
  entire Tradition shares a viewpoint, its 
  members can determine a clear pattern in 
  the frequency of spirits. So, while indi-
  vidual Umbrood may come and go, the 
  Hermetics deal with a regular, structured 
  hierarchy of spirits. 
  Please keep in mind that while the 
  Hermetics believe in these beings, other Traditions have 
  completely different viewpoints on the nature of the 
  High Umbrood. The Celestial Chorus overlaps with the 
  Order somewhat on this knowledge, but that's about it.  
  ELEMENTAL ANGELS: 
  The FoUR Brothers 
  Representing the Four Elements of classical Her-
  meticism, these unearthly powers are the divine 
  representation of Air, Earth, Fire and Water. As beings 
  of power beyond imagining, they are timeless, endless 
  and utterly archetypal. They exist beyond dots and 
  statistics. Whatever a Brother wants to do, he can, as 
  long as he has domain over it. Raphael can't deal with 
  fire, but both Raphael and Gabriel could be hovering 
  over a volcanic eruption. 
  Mages will most likely never deal with the Arch-
  angels  directly,    and  that's  fine.   The lesser avatars of 
  
   
  82        Blood Treachery  
  the Brothers — seraphim, cherubim, gregori, etc. -are 
  dazzling enough in their own right. However, it is nearly 
  impossible to bind even a Jaggling of the Archangels 
  into service. They will make pacts with mages, certainly, 
  but any attempt to coerce or force an angel can backfire 
  much too easily. Not even the most potent Master of 
  Spirit would attempt to bind an angel into a Wonder. It is 
  better to negotiate with them and respect the pacts rather 
  than attempt to bend primordial cosmic forces that have 
  existed since the beginning of time to one's will. 
  MICHAEL, the Angel of Light — The Sun King, 
  also known as Apollo or Ra, is a warrior of the light. 
  Throwing his seven-shafted bow into a scene that is 
  stumbling along in the dark, Michael is the principle of 
  godhood, holiness and divine intuition. The perfect form 
  of idea, Michael is the guiding force of pure mind 
  manifest. 
  Correspondences: Air, light, the Sun, electricity, the 
  electromagnetic force, the photon, sky, rational thought 
  and inspiration, Mind, the color yellow 
  RAPHAEL, the Angel of Earth - - From the Prima 
  Materia emerged Raphael, titan of the Earth. Powerful, 
  everlasting, stable, he brings forth both Nature's bounty 
  and the metals and jewels that humanity treasures. He 
  represents the unchanging, eternal virtues of matter. 
  Correspondences: Earth, mountains, jewels, metals, 
  ores, the strong nuclear force, the proton, earthquakes, 
  health, Matter, the color green 
  EMMANUEL, the Angel of Water — Mutable, 
  protean, ever-shifting, yet never-changing, Emmanuel is 
  the eternal engine of the sea, churning with the dreams 
  of humanity. If you have skill, he will bear you upon his 
  back. But be careful — although the surface seems safe, 
  one could easily drown in his splendor. 
  Correspondences: Water, salt, the Moon, fluids, 
  gravity, the neutron, primordial life, dreams, visions, 
  Spirit, the color blue 
  GABRIEL, the Angel of Fire — The Shy Brother, as 
  he is called, is both destruction and possibility. The 
  Promethean archetype that gave humanity the means to 
  elevate itself, he is also the reluctant destroyer, bearing 
  his double-edged sword with humility. Where Michael is 
  inspiration, Gabriel is an awesome vision of raw power. 
  Correspondences: Fire, destruction, energy released, 
  radioactivity, the weak nuclear force, the electron, the 
  Phoenix, willpower, Forces, the color red. 
  THE ELEMENTAL COURTS AND THE ARCANA 
  The Elemental Courts lie beneath the Four Brothers. 
  Any and every variation on the elements resides here, 
  and just because a character's been to one Water Court 
  doesn't mean he knows what the next one will entail. 
  Attempting to give game rules for the infinite variety is 
  an exercise in futility. 
  "Oh, no you don't! You're not gonna worm out of that 
  one so easily!" We know, we know, we've never given 
  straightforward rules on the High Umbral Courts, and, 
  damn it, you want some! Consider this vagueness an 
  opportunity for your imagination to run wild. However, 
  while we can't (and don't want to) give rules on how to 
  create a world, we can give you some pointers: 
  •  Do your homework: Watch movies. Read. Re-
  search different cultures. Hermetic thought derives from 
  a dizzying amalgam of mythologies and belief systems. 
  Get ideas on what you want your Sky Palace to look 
  like. The idea may be archetypal, but you have to bring 
  your own imagination to bear on the details. 
  • All Umbral Courts are affiliated with the Brothers. 
  Most pay homage to one, although some owe fealty to 
  two. Both Michael and Gabriel oversee Lightning 
  Courts, for example. The politics between the courts can 
  be truly disorienting. 
  •  The Courts are all about correspondences and 
  associations. If you can find a reason why an Air Court 
  should have a river - - e.g., ancient Egypt, which focused 
  almost exclusively on the Nile yet worshipped a sun 
  deity — go for it. The lines drawn between the Four 
  Brothers are tenuous at best and man-made contrivances 
  at worst. 
  • The Arcana — the 22 archetypes of the Tarot — 
  also have their own Courts. Some of them inter- 
  sect with the Elemental Courts, while some inhabit 
  strange Realms of their own. The interplay between the 
  Arcana and the dukes and counts of the elements can be 
  the focus of an entire chronicle in and of itself. Needless 
  to say, the Arcana are extremely powerful Umbrood, and 
  a mage should exercise caution when attempting to 
  invoke them, as they have an unnerving knack for 
  possession. 
   
  PSYCHE-NATURE-CHAOS: 
  The Triple Face Of The Goddess 
  The Eternal Mother -- Moon and Earth and Life in 
  one being — the Goddess is the supreme feminine 
  principle of the Universe. The Great Mother, the Horned 
  Goddess, Gaia, Selene, Lilith, Hecate, Isis, Ishtar, even 
  the Virgin Mary is embodied by the Goddess. 
  
   
   Appendix: The Blood Curse        83 
   
  Her exact place in the Hierarchy is unknown. 
  Whether she ranks equal to God or underneath the 
  Brothers depends mostly on the attitude of the mage. She 
  is the chaos of the jungle, the Breath of Life and the 
  raging storm in one uncanny package. She is the Nine 
  Muses, the Three Fates and the Sirens. She is Empress 
  and Priestess and Lover. She is Maiden and Mother and 
  Crone. She is both Shakti and Kali. She is the eternal 
  trine of Love-Creation-Destruction. 
  When 
  dealing 
  with 
  the 
  Goddess 
  and 
  Her 
  handmaidens, humility is suggested. Attempting to order 
  her about will inevitably end poorly for the willworker in 
  question, as she will be sure to punish such presumption. 
  Ask nicely, and you might get on Her good side. But, 
  like the ever-changing Moon, Her personality shifts from 
  day to day. The benevolent, virginal maiden you spoke 
  with a week ago could be a tempestuous Amazon 
  tonight. 
  Correspondences: Nature, weather, blood, fluid, the 
  Moon, the tides, Life 
  (Note: Yes, this is the High Umbral reflection of the 
  Celestine, Gaia.... Or is Gaia the Middle Umbral 
  reflection of the Goddess? Either way, a Hermetic who 
  has had extensive dealings with Her might find 
  shapeshifters more inclined to work with him. Con-
  versely, 
  the 
  werebeasts 
  might find the mage's 
  presumption intolerable. Perhaps the werewolves just 
  don't care in a Mage game. It's up to you.) 
   
  THE SERVITORS OF THE ENDLESS WELL,: 
  THE ZODIAC 
  The 12 constellations of the zodiac, in league with the 
  Brothers and the Goddess, rule the destinies of 
  humanity. Tied in both with the seasons and the stars, 
  they mark the passage of the planets and manipulate the 
  threads of Fate. 
  Dealing with zodiac spirits can be a trying expe-
  rience, since they have an inherently dual nature. On one 
  hand, they are what they are, more than any other 
  Umbrood. Libra is masculine cardinal Air. He sits in 
  judgment, he weighs options, he can be frightfully 
  indecisive and so on. On the other hand, how a mage 
  relates to a certain spirit is entirely dependent on her 
  natal chart. A mage with her Sun in Aries will have no 
  trouble dealing with the Ram, but without any of her 
  planets in Scorpio she will have difficulties with the 
  Scorpion. 
  Zodiac spirits are usually called upon to answer a 
  question of destiny. Each has his or her own particular 
  insight into the workings of Fate. Standing in their 
  Realm    —    a  High  Umbral intersection with the Deep 
  
   
  84        Blood Treachery  
  Umbra, one of the most breathtaking views of the 
  universe that a mage can have — is bound to be a 
  memorable experience, as each constellation speaks in 
  turn, debating the import of a given subject. 
  Mages can also make pacts with the Umbrood of the 
  zodiac and their servitors (each rules a house, after all). 
  The exact benefits that zodiac spirits confer are best left 
  up to the individual Storyteller. Bear in mind, however 
  that they possess a truly unique advantage over other 
  Umbrood; everyone acknowledges them. Just check the 
  horoscope in the local newspaper. Truly, they are potent 
  allies to cultivate. 
  From an out-of-game perspective, using this system 
  can be really simple or amazingly complicated. The 
  simple way: A mage can deal with any zodiac sign, but 
  she will favor (and be favored by) her birth sign. While 
  this system might be easier, most of the nuance of 
  astrology disappears in so doing. 
  Our advice? Do a little homework ("Again.'?"), make 
  up a natal chart for the character (there are plenty of 
  websites out there that will do so for free — make up a 
  birth date and place of birth for the character and go 
  from there) and discover the interplay of the planets, the 
  signs, the houses and the aspects. Doing so will 
  determine exactly how various zodiac spirits view your 
  character. It's a bit more work, but it's infinitely more 
  rewarding. And since when did a Hermetic shy away 
  from work? 
  Correspondences: Destiny, insight, Entropy and 
  Time 
   
  THE TREE INVERTED: 
  CIRCLES OF THE DAMNED 
  Mandatory Disclaimer: White Wolf does not con-
  done dealing with the avatars of evil, be they real or 
  imagined. Any delusion that you are actually commu-
  nicating with Satan is your own psychosis that you and 
  your state-appointed therapist get to work through. Evil 
  is a Bad Thing for your character to latch onto; it is even 
  worse if you believe it in real life. 
  Contrary to Hermetic law, the will of Heaven and 
  common sense, a scant few Hermetics do deal with the 
  angels' fallen Brothers. Whether through antinomian 
  praxis (working against your Word to better understand 
  it), sheer balls or outright stupidity, the secrets of 
  evoking demons, devils and other malefic beings are still 
  in circulation throughout the Order. You thought 
  drinking vampire blood was bad? Try negotiating with 
  Asmodeus. 
  Trafficking with the Damned is almost always bad 
  for the mage.    First of all, if you try it before your mage 
  achieves Adept rank with the Spirit Sphere, he will 
  get fucked. Demons feel no particular obligation to honor 
  pacts with amateurs. Second of all, even if your char-
  acter does have the magical will to bind a demon into 
  service, the mage had better speak legalese like a 
  Quaesitor to make sure the demon doesn't screw him in 
  the deal. And lastly, any demon bound successfully in 
  this manner will always look for an escape, and it will 
  hate its tormentor forever. When a demon says forever, 
  he means it. 
  Furthermore, this sort of magic is infernalism and 
  diabolism in the most literal sense. If your mage's 
  clandestine activities are discovered, you can be rea-
  sonably certain of a swift verdict of Requital—possibly 
  Gilgul, just to ensure that your tainted soul doesn't 
  further pollute the Tellurian. 
  That being said, the Hierarchy of the Damned is 
  exactly the inverse of that of the Blessed, save that it is a 
  tyranny of one (the fallen seraph, Sammael) and not a 
  council of four that sits at the bottom. We're not going to 
  give specifics about any of these beings or Realms. 
  Dante Alighieri's works (as well as The Book of 
  Worlds, The Book of Madness and Infernalism: The 
  Path of Screams) should be fuel enough for this fire. 
  And yes, should you opt to play with this blaze, you will 
  almost assuredly get burned. Beyond recognition. 
   
  THE UMBRAL COURTS, THE TRADITIONS 
  AND THE SECOND MASSASA WAR 
  Right, so what are pages of Umbral Court de-
  scriptions doing in a book about mage-vampire battles? 
  Simple — when mages go to war, they need all the allies 
  that they can get. Spirits are some of the few allies that 
  the Traditions can claim who aren't co-opted by the 
  Technocracy and the vampires. That being the case, 
  Hermetic spiritualists and other Tradition spirit-speakers 
  inevitably drag their spirit allies into the war. 
  Umbral Court allies in the second Massasa War help 
  immeasurably. First off, most spirits dislike vampires 
  intensely. As static, flawed creatures of corruption, 
  vampires represent monstrous forces in the Tellurian. 
  They're just no good, and spirits hate things that don't fit 
  in the natural order. Furthermore, vampires have little to 
  do with the spirit world, probably for similar reasons. 
  Therefore most undead are ill-equipped to deal with 
  spirits. 
  The natural problem, of course, is that summoning 
  spirits relies on sending a message through the Avatar 
  Storm across the Gauntlet,    or on traveling to the 
  Umbra  in  order  to  deal  with  spirits   directly.    Either 
  
   
   Appendix: The Blood Curse        85 
  process is risky and uncertain. Mages will tend to rely on 
  their old, pre-existing pacts, since trapping spirits in new 
  deals is harder than ever. But the benefits — spies or 
  allies that vampires have trouble detecting and 
  countering — are worth it. 
  See, vampires show up as blights against the 
  backdrop of the spirit world. The Umbra reflects the 
  presence of emotion and intensity in the material world. 
  Vampires seem like sinkholes of evil, vortexes that suck 
  in life and give nothing back. A little spirit sight or a 
  good spirit ally can sometimes spot such signs. The older 
  and more monstrous the vampire, the more clearly it 
  shows up. Of course, it isn't 
  particularly easy to hunt vampires from the Umbra, but 
  it's definitely simpler than trying to pick them out of 
  crowds of humans. 
  Also, since spirits have a natural antipathy toward the 
  undead, it's often a little easier for mages to make pacts 
  with them if the vampires are on the victim end. Since a 
  spirit doesn't garner Paradox for using its powers, it can 
  attack the vampires while the mages defend, or vice 
  versa. Such a system frees up the mage to create more 
  terrifying Effects or to have a better shield against 
  vampire machinations. 
  All in all, not a bad deal. 
   
  The WHIMS OF FORTUNE'S Wheel: 
  MERITS AND FLAWS 
  The circumstances in which the Order 
  finds itself in these Final Nights have 
  brought with them their own unique trials 
  and boons. While they function just like 
  the Merits and Flaws found in other Mage 
  material, these Merits and Flaws also 
  come with the obligatory warning that 
  min-maxing 
  is 
  hazardous 
  to 
  your 
  character's approval. 
   
  DRIVEN (2 PT MERIT) 
  The world is falling to Hell, and the Order is 
  crumbling. Few mages have the spiritual resilience to 
  endure the punishment being heaped on the Traditions in 
  these End Times and keep on going. Your mage is one 
  of them. Once per game session, when the survival of 
  your character's Tradition is at stake, you gain an 
  additional free point of temporary Willpower to spend 
  on any one roll in defense of your mage's Tradition. 
   
  CELESTIAL AFFINITY (3 PT MERIT) 
  Your mage has an exceptional instinct when it comes 
  to dealing with High Umbrood. While certain shamans 
  excel at interactions with their totemic spirits, and 
  necromancers find truck with the dead a simple matter, 
  your mage's talents make converse with the noblest and 
  most refined of ephemeral entities easier. You receive a 
  difficulty bonus of two to all rolls to summon, compel, 
  coax, bargain with and otherwise influence such beings. 
  This bonus applies as much to Social rolls as it does to 
  Spheres, since trafficking with High Umbrood is often as  
  much a matter of finesse and force of personality as it is 
  one of sorcerous might. 
   
  NEPHILIM (7 PT MERIT) 
  This Merit is exactly what it sounds like. Your mage 
  is the direct progeny of a native of the High Umbra and a 
  human being. Perhaps your character's conception 
  secured a pact, or possibly the reasons were somewhat 
  less pragmatic. In any case, the mage is the intersection 
  of Heaven (or Hell, or the Vulgate, etc.) and Earth. Like 
  the Biblical Nephilim, your character's body cannot fully 
  contain the massive spiritual energies coursing through 
  it, so she has one or a small handful of deformities (at 
  least 3 points worth of Physical Flaws, for which you 
  receive no additional points). Also, she tends to embody 
  certain characteristics of your High Umbral parent 
  (almost certainly her father). An angelic parent whose 
  domain is Fury will result in a short temper and a desire 
  to solve problems with one's fists, whereas an incubus' 
  child will have... darker appetites. Reflect this tendency 
  by starting with three dots of Resonance instead of just 
  one. This heritage does, however, bestow certain 
  advantages upon your character. Mind and Spirit Sphere 
  difficulties pertaining directly to the High Umbra 
  decrease by one, and she is capable of entering the High 
  Umbra physically with a conjunctional Spirit 3, Mind 4 
  Effect. Also, the entities of the High Umbra fear their 
  bastard half-breeds, and so you receive two bonus dice 
  in all rolls to intimidate, command or make demands of 
  such creatures.    (Unless you are very powerful, 
  however,    or  the creature  you  are  dealing  with is 
  very  weak,     doing  so  is  nigh  suicidal.)     This  Merit 
  
   
  86        Blood Treachery  
  cannot be taken with Celestial Affinity; the Nephilim are 
  neither well-loved nor well-received by the Angelic 
  Hierarchies and their like. 
   
  INGLORIOUS PEDIGREE (1 PT FLAW) 
  The Order of Hermes has traditionally stood on the 
  might of its great houses. Even Ex Miscellanea has 
  always had, at any given time, what might be considered 
  its more significant houses. Although your mage hails 
  from the Hodge-Podge, hers is a minor sub-house of 
  little regard with only a handful of members. In fact, she 
  (and quite possibly her mentor) might currently be the 
  only living Awakened members of her praxis within the 
  house. She could be one of the four or so mages of fallen 
  Criamon currently conscious, sane and coherent. Or, she 
  could belong to a sub-house that has never been of any 
  great prominence, always getting by with the barest 
  trickle of Apprentices. In the latter case, you should 
  delineate a very specific set of duties or line of research 
  important to the foundation of your sub-house and 
  choose an appropriate name for it. You suffer a difficulty 
  penalty of two to all Social rolls among mages of the 
  larger houses of the Order when your mage tries to 
  impress them or just get them to take her seriously. In 
  addition, she may sometimes find herself cut off from 
  some of the perks that other mages of the Order take for 
  granted (such as access to surplus Tass or audiences with 
  Masters), simply because she has no powerful fellowship 
  to back her up. 
   
  RENUNCIATE (I PT FLAW) 
  Your mage was indoctrinated into the Order from 
  without. Unlike most, he did not have to endure the 
  grueling three-to-five year period of tutelage (at least, 
  not from a mentor approved by the Order of Hermes). 
  He was instead wooed over to the cause by House 
  Fortunae's frantic recruitment drive. He may have been 
  an Orphan practicing his own brand of Hermeticism, or 
  perhaps he was a convert from another Tradition. 
  Regardless, he is looked down upon by many within the 
  Order for his lack of "appropriate instruction." Your 
  character suffers a difficulty penalty of two on all Social 
  rolls dealing with traditionalists within the Order (i.e., 
  the better part of the Order of Hermes). Most Fortunae, 
  Solificati and Thig (as well as certain mavericks within 
  the other Houses) cut your character slack, but he is 
  never allowed to forget his "inferior heritage." This Flaw 
  differs from the previous one in that a mage with an 
  inglorious pedigree finds it difficult to be taken 
  seriously, while one with this Flaw finds it hard simply 
  to be accepted. 
  BLOOD-HUNGRY SOUL (2-5 PT FLAW) 
  One of your prior incarnations (likely one alive 
  during the original Massasa War) fell under the seduc-
  tive spell of vampiric vitae. Your mage was "born" into 
  his Awakened life an addict (as were all of his incarna-
  tions after the unfortunate imbibing of the accursed 
  nectar). It is only now, however, with the rekindling of 
  the war, that his Avatar remembers the desire for the 
  blood that so fulfilled it. 
  For two points, your mage's Avatar remembers its 
  addiction as a long-recovered addict might; it was a bad 
  choice, made long ago and foolishly. Nevertheless, the 
  hunger whispers to his soul every so often, prompting a 
  Willpower roll (difficulty 5) to resist temptation when-
  ever an opportunity to potentially get vampire blood 
  presents itself. Failing that, you must make another roll 
  (difficulty 6) to turn down the stuff if the initial oppor-
  tunity proves fruitful. 
  The three-point version of this Flaw is identical to the 
  weaker version, save that the first roll's difficulty is 6 
  and the second increases to 8. 
  The five-point variant awakens within the character 
  all the wracking agonies of a ghoul's lust for his unclean 
  sacrament. Players of these unfortunates must roll 
  Willpower (difficulty 8) to stay the hell away from a 
  chance to lay hands on the sweet venom of Caine's 
  Curse. Should that roll not prove sufficient, make a 
  second roll (difficulty 10) to thrust it away and flee from 
  this self-annihilating lust. (A few Thig have taken to 
  referring to this Flaw as having a "crack-baby Avatar.") 
   
  MASSASA CONTACT (3 PT FLAW) 
  Your mage has committed one of the direst sins of 
  war: She has gotten in bed with the enemy. She numbers 
  a massasa among her associates, and (for whatever 
  reason) she cannot or will not terminate either her 
  relationship or the vampire. Maybe the creature is a 
  friend or loved one, cruelly Embraced, or maybe it is a 
  source of intelligence against the enemy massasa. In any 
  case, though, a scant few in the Order would look the 
  other way were they to chance upon such ties. Many, 
  however, would denounce and persecute the mage out-
  of-hand. Remember, most mages of the Order take for 
  granted that all massasa fall under the ancient schism of 
  House Tremere, so most would see your mage as a 
  dangerous liability were they to find out. 
  If this vampire is useful to your character, she should 
  also be taken as an ally (as per the Background). At the 
  other end of the spectrum, a very few vampires have 
  been approved for dealings by certain higher-ups within 
  the Hermetic chain of command (such as it is). 
  
   
   Appendix: The Blood Curse        87 
  Therefore, it is not absolutely necessary to take this 
  Flaw if you wish to purchase a vampiric ally. This Flaw 
  is necessary only if you want a vampire ally whose 
  camaraderie could prove dangerous. 
   
  FAUST'S BURDEN (3-6 PT FLAW) 
  Either your mage or one of her prior incarnations cut 
  a deal with a potent Umbrood, and now she must uphold 
  her end of the bargain. This creature need not be a 
  demon. Mammon, after all, is likely to be much 
  friendlier (in the short term, at least) about the matter of 
  a debt owed than, say, Uriel. If it was a previous 
  incarnation that forged this ill-advised pact, the entity 
  remembers your mage's soul (read: Ava-tar), and it will 
  begin hounding her soon after the Awakening for its due. 
  For three points, your mage owes a significant 
  service to this creature. This service might include a 
  dangerous quest in its name, the freedom to possess you 
  at any time of its choosing thrice in your life, or frequent 
  sacrifices   of  property  or  Tass.      For  four  points, 
  this Umbrood may demand more significant sacrifices. 
  For    example,        it    might    compel   your   mage   to 
  undertake a potentially life-threatening quest, demand 
  that her magic always be worked in ways that create a 
  Resonance pleasing to it, or impose significant strictures 
  on her life. The five-point version of this Flaw grants the 
  spirit leave to send the mage into a virtually certain-
  death scenario, to claim her firstborn, or to force her to 
  use her magic at any time in any way it sees fit. 
  In the case of these first three variants of this Flaw, 
  failure to comply will be punished accordingly (the 
  Storyteller is encouraged to be a genuine bastard). For 
  the full six points, your mage owes the being in question 
  her immortal soul. It may command her, possess her, use 
  her powers, senses, knowledge (et cetera) at will, and it 
  is perfectly within its rights to do its damnedest to 
  collect as quickly as possible, short of killing her itself. 
  In theory, an awe-inspiring number of successes on a 
  Prime 2, Entropy 5, Spirit 5 Effect might break this 
  obligation. It is much more likely, however, that a 
  combination of cunning, bravery, sheer willpower and 
  luck will overcome the bargain. 
   
   
   
  ANCIENT KNOWLEDGE: RECOVERED MAGIC 
  These Rotes are some examples of the 
  original Hermetic spells lost before or dur-
  ing the Massasa War, now seen for the 
  first time in nearly a millennium by living 
  willworkers as they were first penned. Al-
  though they are not subject to the 
  bastardization of multiple translations, 
  none of these Rotes are particularly resis-
  tant to the slow constriction of magic that 
  first drove the Order to its hasty call to arms. (This 
  realization comes much to the consternation of those 
  who have risked much and lost much to regain them.) 
  Still, when such spells do work, they are potent additions 
  indeed to any Hermetic's arsenal. 
   
  OATHBREAKER'S LASH 
  (• ENTROPY, • • • FORCES) 
  With this Rote, a canny Quaesitor may visit upon a 
  liar the fruits of his falsehoods. As a lie leaves the 
  subject's lips, it is literally transformed into a web of 
  electricity and amplified, reflecting back on the 
  oathbreaker and inflicting grievous harm. A Seal of 
  Solomon and an invocation of Uriel, Angel of Judgment, 
  are the implements by which the Quaesitor divides the 
  deceiver from the honorable. 
  System: As per the Entropy Effect, Ring of Truth, 
  this Effect's successes subtract successes from a liar's 
  Subterfuge roll. If the liar still has successes left over, or 
  if both sets of successes cancel one another out, nothing 
  happens. If the Quaesitor's player scores more successes, 
  however, his excess successes are applied as Forces 
  damage as the liar's words are transformed into strands 
  of electricity that snap back to scourge his body. (Add 
  the extra damage success for Forces only after both sets 
  of successes have been compared.) 
  Alternatively, the mage may opt for the "pain and 
  incapacitation" version of the Rote, rather than causing 
  real damage. In this case, the damage successes are 
  applied as normal, but they only count for the purpose of 
  determining wound penalties for the duration of the 
  scene. If the subject drops below Incapacitated as a 
  result of this application of the Rote, excess successes 
  strip points of temporary Willpower. In this case, the 
  subject may continue to speak (with great pain and 
  difficulty), but further lashes will work automatically if 
  the subject speaks a lie. He no longer has the presence of 
  mind to conceal the truth effectively. 
  
   
  88        Blood Treachery  
  A subject reduced by this process to zero temporary 
  Willpower will tell the whole truth as he knows it about 
  any subject desired, and he will probably volunteer more 
  and more elaborate information than is requested. Note 
  that Oathbreaker's Lash works against only a knowing 
  liar and that, as his concentration is bound up in the 
  Rote, the Quaesitor casting it will only detect a spoken 
  lie if the Effect is triggered successfully. 
   
  BOOK OF WHISPERS 
  (• • MIND, • • • MATTER, • • • TIME) 
  Originally taught to Roderigo Melanzanno, bani 
  Bonisagus, by his mentor, this Rote found use by the old 
  man as a handy substitute for a scribe and a useful tool 
  for self-examination. By keying a blank book to oneself, 
  a mage can enchant it for a time, causing the very 
  substance of its pages to manifest his surface thoughts 
  verbatim. Needless to say, Melanzanno made himself 
  famous by using the book for less studious pursuits. 
  Keying such books to others by inscribing their names 
  upon the covers, Melanzanno became a rather successful 
  blackmailer. Thus, while the discovery of his body 
  floating in a Venetian canal came as no real surprise to 
  his contemporaries, the secret combinations of pentacles 
  in which he wrote his subjects' names found great favor 
  among other Order mages more capable of balancing 
  ambition with wisdom. 
  System: Mind 2 reads the surface thoughts of those 
  without mental shielding, Matter 3 transforms the 
  substance of the pages into words corresponding to those 
  thoughts, and Time creates a duration of Effect (thus 
  allowing the mage to perform other tasks, even use other 
  magic, while the Rote maintains itself). The book must 
  be within the subject's immediate vicinity to be effective, 
  but it need not be obvious (one of a few books tucked 
  under a mage's arm, for example, or one of the hundreds 
  on the nearby shelves in a library). As the Rote does 
  leave that telltale echo of willworking obvious to those 
  with Awareness, it is best used on the Awakened in 
  places like Chantries, where there are likely to be several 
  magical Effects in place at any given time, serving as a 
  sort of "magical cover." 
   
  THUNDER'S GAUNTLET 
  (• • • CORRESPONDENCE, • • • MIND, AND 
  EITHER • • PRIME, • • • FORCES OR 
  • • • MATTER, OR • • • LIFE) 
  Developed by Wolfram von Gruenberg,  bani 
  Tytalus,    over  a  century  before the siege of Mistridge, 
  this Rote allowed the Teuton to call out his enemies, no 
  matter how distant, with a telepathic certamen challenge 
  and a painful blast of thunder for good measure. Those 
  wizards who came later refined and altered his pentacles 
  of Mars and invocations of Gabriel slightly to allow for 
  fire, cold, spikes thrust from the floor and even internal 
  hemorrhaging to act as the Gauntlet's exclamation point. 
  While perhaps not as commonly used for its original 
  purpose today as when Wolfram created it, it still sees 
  some use among certain sadistic bastards in the Order 
  who like to taunt an enemy or ruin him with a 
  particularly horrible bit of news before killing him. 
  A dubiously reliable story also exists about a 
  Janissary who used this Rote while fleeing Quaesitor 
  persecution to deliver a brief testimony to one of his 
  pursuers and kill him. The Janissary later sent a coded 
  message to a friend in another house containing only the 
  dead Quaesitor's name and instructions to summon and 
  interrogate the man's spirit. Truly, the Order is 
  resourceful. 
  System: Correspondence 2 allows the mage to locate 
  and scry a person known to him, and Mind 3 delivers the 
  message. Prime and Forces deliver an energy-based 
  attack. Prime and Matter deliver a physical one, and Life 
  creates an assault similar to Rip the Man-Body. With 
  time to plan and prepare, the mage may dictate a 
  maximum amount of damage to be inflicted, allowing 
  him to pull his punch deliberately if he wishes to be 
  certain that the subject survives. A good Correspondence 
  ward can negate the whole Effect, while a strong Mind 
  shield will simply block the telepathic message. 
   
  GABRIEL'S EMBRACE 
  (• • CORRESPONDENCE, • • MATER OR 
  • • • • •  LIFE, • •  PRIME, • • • FORCES) 
  This horrifically brutal Rote transforms the air around 
  a subject (or, in the case of the Life 5 variant, the 
  subject's own flesh) into a flame that burns until the 
  victim is reduced to ash. The mage does so by calling 
  upon Gabriel, Archangel of Fire, and keying a pentacle 
  of Mercury to the victim (whether with a name, a 
  possession or line of sight). 
  System: Correspondence 2 allows the caster to fire 
  this Rote from a distance and keep it locked on the 
  victim. Forces holds the flames generated by the 
  transformed Pattern tightly to the subject, and Prime 
  keeps those flames fed (requiring a point of Quintes-
  sence per turn, but inflicting damage equal to that 
  generated  by  the  initial  casting  of  the  Rote automati- 
  
   
   Appendix: The Blood Curse        89 
  cally).    The Matter version of the Rote inflicts damage 
  as a normal Forces Effect,    while the Life variant adds 
  to    that damage a number of aggravated health levels 
  (as per a normal Life Effect)    appropriate to the number 
  of successes scored. Incidentally, casting the Matter and 
  Life components of this Rote conjunctionally allows a 
  mage to use the second variant of this Rote successfully 
  on a vampire. 
   
  SWORDS AGAINST THE NIGHT: 
  ARMAMENTS OF THE MASSASA WAR 
  With the rekindling of the war, a 
  number of spells designed with the 
  mossosa-hunter 
  in 
  mind 
  have 
  been 
  rediscovered in molder-ing tomes hidden 
  in the far corners of libraries and in books 
  pried from the cold hands of the vampires 
  themselves. Preying upon the weaknesses 
  of the undead, these spells are frightfully 
  efficient instruments of battle. 
   
  GLORIOUS SWORD OF HAVEN 
  (• • CORRESPONDENCE, • • FORCES OR 
  • • • • CORRESPONDENCE, • • • • FORCES) 
  From the arcane texts of the bizarre House (and 
  family) Castrovinci comes this weapon against the Race 
  of Caine. Pentacles of Mars and Enochian supplications 
  to Michael, warrior Archangel and patron of the Sun, 
  draw a lance of sunlight from elsewhere in the world 
  with which to attack a vampire. More powerful mages 
  can summon a literal shaft of light from Heaven, searing 
  scores of massasa with holy illumination. Although the 
  Rote is vulgar almost anywhere in the 21st century, it 
  remains a valuable, if dangerous, trump for those 
  members of the Order who have truck with vampires. 
  (Mages who are known to use this Rote have a tendency 
  to get tracked down and wiped out by potent vampire 
  servitors, as they are obvious threats.) 
  System: The Correspondence 2, Forces 2 version of 
  the Rote summons a single slender beam of sunlight that 
  must be directed at a vampire's exposed flesh in order to 
  harm him. The more powerful variant of the Rote can 
  draw a shaft of sunlight, around a city block in size, to 
  the mage's location, spelling almost certain doom for any 
  vampire in the vicinity (as well as decreasing the mage's 
  odds for a long, happy life drastically thanks to 
  Paradox). Note, however, that the mage must draw the 
  light from somewhere, and he should familiarize himself 
  thoroughly with the Time Zones before attempting this 
  Rote. 
  OAK OF SANGUINE ROOT 
   (• • CORRESPONDENCE, • • PRIME, 
  • • • LIFE, • • • MATTER) 
  Subverting the power of the blood, this Rote creates 
  life out of death, paralyzing a massasa with the 
  legendary bane of the wooden stake. A sapling of oak 
  springs with frightful swiftness from the vampire's own 
  flesh and bone, and out of the mystic power of her blood, 
  spreading its roots in the heart and splitting free from the 
  torso to sprout bloodied branch and leaf. 
  System: Correspondence 2 and Prime 2 allow the 
  mage to latch onto the power of Quintessence in the 
  vampire's heart. Life 3 and Matter 3 build the Pattern of 
  the swift-growing sapling out of that Quintessence and 
  unliving flesh. If successful, this Rote inflicts standard 
  damage for a Life Effect, in addition to transfixing the 
  vampire's heart with wood automatically. Without the 
  normal nutrients needed by trees, the sapling will 
  eventually die. Removing the "stake" will almost 
  undoubtedly inflict an additional health level or two of 
  lethal damage, as the heart is gouged and bones are split 
  to free the roots. 
   
  HERMES' BRAND  
   (• ENTROPY, • • PRIME, 
  • • • FORCES, • • • • TIME) 
  A vicious weapon forged in the darkest days of the 
  Massasa War, the Hermes' Brand Effect delivers an 
  insidious and final punishment unto a vampire. By 
  introducing a "sleeping fire" into the blood of a mortal 
  creature, a mage may cause the vis synthesized by the 
  vampiric "biology" to explode into flames, consuming 
  the massasa from the inside out. 
  System: The mage uses Entropy 1 and Time 4 to 
  enchant his own blood (or that of another living 
  creature), essentially creating a "hanging" Prime 2, 
  Forces  3  Effect  that  takes  place  a  specified amount 
  of time after  being  ingested  by  a  vampire.    The  Rote 
  
   
  90        Blood Treachery  
   
  uses the blood that the vampire gains from his feeding as 
  the Quintessence to fuel the Effect. The more the 
  vampire drinks, the bigger the burn. If the vampire does 
  not drink the enchanted blood, the blood does not 
  explode. 
  When the appointed duration is reached, each pint of 
  blood consumed explodes into flame, inflicting two 
  health levels of aggravated damage. Provided the 
  vampire survives, he also loses one blood point per 
  health level suffered (on top of the ones that fueled the 
  magic, all of which are consumed), as it literally burns 
  away. 
  A  mage  may only have one Hermes' Brand in 
  effect at any time, but it lasts until it is undone or 
  triggered. Also, this Rote remains active even after 
  death,    provided  the  blood  is fresh enough to retain 
  the mystic energy vampires require.    Thus,  it is pos-
  sible for a mage killed by feeding (or killed in a fight 
  and   then   fed   upon)      to   have  his  vengeance  from  
   
  beyond the grave, as it were. This Rote may be placed on 
  any living subject, willing or no, and, when combined 
  with memory manipulation, is a truly exquisite surprise 
  to bestow upon a member of a vampire's usual feeding 
  circle. 
  As an important aside, however, it is possible (if 
  highly unlikely) that the mage casting this Rote specifies 
  an exceedingly long time before the explosion or that the 
  vampire runs through all of her blood very quickly. In 
  this case, it is important to keep track of exactly which 
  blood was drawn from the enchanted individual, since 
  they may be purged from the system before the specified 
  duration elapses. An extraordinarily fortunate vampire 
  might mitigate her punishment somewhat, or perhaps 
  avoid it altogether, in this fashion. 
  Finally, if your character is enchanting his own 
  blood, make sure you don't botch the roll. Talk about 
  heartburn.. 
   
   
   
  
   
  91        Blood Treachery  
  THE REBORN PATH: 
  TOMORROW'S HERMETICISM 
  Weaving together strands of old praxes 
  and new ideas, the magic of the cutting-
  edge Hermetic knows the caduceus as the 
  DNA double-helix and the search for As-
  cension as Campbell's Hero's Journey. 
  Used almost exclusively by House Thig, 
  these Rotes and others like them are 
  nonetheless finding increasing favor with 
  the youth of the Order, whose hearts and 
  souls are not so invested in the old spells as their 
  mentors' are. Younger Hermetics are more willing to 
  simply abandon those spells now that that magic has 
  become unreliable. Although this neo-Hermeticism 
  seems a crude bastardization to many purists, it may be 
  the only hope the Order has left for salvation. 
   
  CHAOS BUTTERFLY 
  (• • ENTROPY, • • PRIME, • • SPIRIT) 
  Chaos theory states that a butterfly flapping its wings 
  in China can be the trigger that causes a hurricane in the 
  Caribbean. Thigs (and the occasional Fortunae) use this 
  understanding to twist reality to their own desires. They 
  might not be able to call a hurricane with the Ars 
  Essentiae, but it just might happen with the right 
  assistance. 
  The mage inscribes a sigil, focusing his intent upon 
  it. A minor Umbrood — a butterfly with wings of fire -- 
  then materializes. The mage must then forget completely 
  about the desired effect and let the butterfly flutter away. 
  Somewhere down the line, what the mage desired will 
  come to pass, albeit in the most unexpected ways. 
  System: Entropy, Prime and Spirit fix a starting point 
  of probability in the Tellurian, giving that point form in 
  the butterfly. Essentially, the mage creates a probability 
  singularity. 
  From 
  that 
  point, 
  probability 
  begins 
  branching out into myriad different possibilities. What 
  happens afterward depends on the mage's desires and the 
  number of successes the player rolls. A minor Effect — 
  say, 
  ensuring 
  that 
  the 
  mage 
  chances 
  upon 
  a 
  malfunctioning    ATM    —    will    occur    within    a 
  day  or  two  and  then  dissipate.   Effects that attempt to 
  duplicate other Sphere Effects take days of intense 
  concentration, vast amounts of successes and the 
  willingness to deal with the karmic payback of being the 
  root cause of, say, someone's death. Should the player 
  botch, take the desired intent into account when 
  computing Paradox. Needless to say, there are just 
  certain things that are beyond the scope of this Effect. 
  This Rote is not a platform from which to do just 
  anything, and the Storyteller should ignore any requests 
  to attain divinity, slay an archangel or whip the 
  Technocracy's 
  ass 
  single-handedly. 
  The 
  Effect, 
  regardless of size, should always take the character — 
  and player — totally by surprise. 
   
  The Golden Apple (• • MATER, • • Mind 
  Or • • MATER, • • • MIND, • • • PRIME) 
  Long ago, the gods of Olympus threw a party. They 
  didn't, however, invite Eris, Goddess of Chaos to the 
  banquet, and she was understandably pissed. Furious, 
  she grabbed a golden apple, carved "KALLISTI" ("To 
  the Prettiest One") on the side and threw it in. Athena, 
  Hera and Aphrodite all claimed it for themselves, and 
  their bickering grew so intense that Zeus appointed a 
  mortal named Paris to decide. The three goddesses each 
  offered Paris something, but Aphrodite won when she 
  offered him the most beautiful mortal in the world — 
  Helen of Troy. So the Trojan War started, all because of 
  a Golden Apple. 
  Modern Hermetics use this principle to imbue 
  mundane objects with a magnetic pull that is nearly 
  irresistible. No matter what, they are compelled to focus 
  on that object. Some Hermetics claim television works 
  in much the same fashion. 
  System: The first version of The Golden Apple pulls 
  attention toward the imbued object. For the duration of 
  the Effect, those affected must fixate upon the object, 
  reacting with envy, hate, lust or any other emotion the 
  Hermetic cares to create. The more advanced version is 
  even more insidious, as the Effect channels the victims' 
  desires to fuel itself. It's a vicious cycle; the more they 
  want it, the stronger the Effect becomes. 
  
   
  92        Blood Treachery  
  AFTER WORD FROM THE AUTHORS 
  The drama is over, but it has only 
  begun. Obviously, some of the details in 
  the Mage universe are extracted from real 
  life practices and events. However, the 
  silver strings connecting the fictional 
  game counterparts to the real structures 
  sometimes get lost in the mix. It's all too 
  easy to pretend to fight the Technocracy 
  while ignoring the lack of imagination that 
  seems to pervade the real world. It's easy to see blood-
  drinking monsters responsible for every sin against 
  humanity. It's much too easy to literalize the monsters. 
  Magic is a creative act. No matter what kind of mage 
  you are, all your rituals, foci, apparatuses and procedures 
  are expressions of you. There's a reason Hermetics call 
  magic the Art. The artist, the lover and the mage are all 
  aspects of each other. They all create, whether their 
  works are a symphony, a summoning or ecstasy. Even a 
  scientist can approach his work as an essential creative 
  force that enriches the soul of humanity. 
  The Final N ights might not actually be upon us, but 
  there's a sense of unease, disinterest and general apathy 
  in the air. It's easier, quicker, and less worrisome to hook 
  ourselves up to The Machine than to create our own 
  happiness. Vampiric sorcerers don't pull the strings of 
  the world, but there are too many people siphoning 
  power from misery. 
  This is your world, and this is your reality. Cast out 
  the vampires and create anew.  
  — Scott Cohen 
  • • • 
  I have no sage wisdom to dispense save this; every 
  belief is a choice. 
  The  acceleration  due to gravity,    the value of a 
  dime  and  the  degree  to  which the Divine exists are all  
  values we choose either to embrace or deny. For the 
  most part, we embrace those "truths" that are approved 
  for common consumption. In so doing, we empower 
  those who bring us this information without ever really 
  questioning their motives or the validity of their 
  mandates. We have no desire to find out for ourselves 
  anymore. Chained to the mundane, we surf the 'net, read 
  the paper, watch the news and buy our favorite 
  magazines, devouring their contents and taking on faith 
  the fallible (and oftentimes, darkly self-motivated) Law 
  of the Masses. 
  If coming into such proximity with the Order has 
  helped to cement anything in my mind, it is that we must 
  elevate ourselves. If we do not, the dream of something 
  better vanishes, replaced by an unending mediocrity and 
  a 
  steady 
  descent 
  toward 
  the 
  lowest 
  common 
  denominator. The world you have been accepting is 
  without any value beyond that which you bestow upon 
  it. Remember, somewhere, an unseen architect of the 
  reality we too often take for granted profits whenever a 
  miracle of the modern world is unveiled and we reply, 
  "Amen." 
  Believe whatever you desire, and never let anyone 
  call you crazy for it. As ye harm none, do as thou wilt. 
  The image-obsessed, bloodthirsty, sensationalistic world 
  outside your window is the real madhouse. Silent assent 
  is a security blanket, and it's time to put that blanket 
  aside and face the monsters before there are no heroes 
  left to do battle with the dragon. It takes a supreme effort 
  of will to put aside what the rest of the species takes on 
  faith, in favor of forging one's own path toward one's 
  own truth. 
  Hey. You there, with the Mage book... 
  I don't suppose by any chance you know anything at 
  all about that? 
  — Stephen Michael DiPesa  
  
   
   Appendix: The Blood Curse        93 
  SUGGESTED READING 
  The Changing Light at Sandover by 
  James Merrill — An extraordinary work. 
  Merrill spent 20 years receiving the bulk 
  of this poem from an Outja board. The 
  book is epic in scope, touching on every 
  aspect of existence, and it's the best 
  example of an artist mediating between 
  planes of consciousness ever written. 
  The Collected Works of W.B. Yeats -
  Yeats was poet, magician, historian, folklorist, and hero. 
  His work sought to re-create the Irish myths, as well as 
  the imagination in all of us. 
  Psychology and Alchemy by Carl Jung — While a 
  ponderous read, the ideas in this book are everything a 
  Hermetic could ever hope to realize. 
  Daimonic Reality by Patrick Harpur — A fascinating 
  analysis of unexplained phenomena that links UFOs, 
  faeries, the Anima Mundi, and magic into one mercurial 
  realm. 
  The Essential Kaballah by Daniel Matt — Not a 
  "how-to" guide, this book collects the best writings on 
  the arcane art of Jewish mysticism. 
  The Cosmic Serpent by Jeremy Narby — While the 
  book deals with Amazonian shamans, the underlying 
  theme — the unification of science with magic — is an 
  inspiration for neo-Hermeticism. 
  The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, and the 
  Silmarillion by J.R.R. Tolkien — Throw away fantasy-
  dork preconceptions and look through to the symbolism 
  beneath. Try to understand the very essence of the 
  Order's epic sensibilities  and the all-pervasive sorrow of 
  a noble war (both in the books and on the part of the 
  author himself) to save a dying dream. 
  The Art of War by Sun Tzu — This is how you fight 
  a war for Reality. Ruthlessly pragmatic, Master Sun 
  draws up a battle plan that would make any Tytalan 
  proud. 
  A Dictionary of Angels by Gustav Davidson — A 
  thoroughly approachable work on the attributes and 
  correspondences of more High Umbrood than you can 
  shake a stick at. 
  The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli — Yes, everyone 
  recommends this as the quintessential handbook for the 
  ambitious vampire. However, over the course of its long 
  history, the Order has taken to heart a page or two of this 
  text on the necessity of a ruler's willingness to do 
  anything in order to maintain his power. 
  The Secret Language of Birthdays by Gary 
  Goldschneider & Joost Elffers — Astrology made easy. 
  An ideal resource for picking an auspicious birthday for 
  your Hermetic character. 
  Key Words for Astrology by Hajo Banzhaf & Anna 
  Haebler — This book is one of the best astrology works 
  on the market. More than a "find your love partner" text, 
  this explains the metaphors, symbolism and interactions 
  between the signs and the planets. A must-read. 
  And who could forget... 
  The Corpus Hermeticum by Hermes Trismegistus— 
  Here it is, the cornerstone of Hermetic thought. It's long, 
  ponderous, at times boring as can be and positively 
  invaluable in understanding much about the Order of 
  Hermes.
  
   
   
   
  
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