|
Denizens
of the Dreaming
Character
Templates
Acheri
Renegade Healer
Quote: The fever's down; she should be all right. I'm happy to
help, just don't tell anyone you saw me here.
Background:
You wandered away from the village. Well, not wandered so much as
ran. The cruelties of an acheri village are sometimes too much even
for the acheri, and you were a child to boot. The older village
boys showed you how to bring illness and corruption to the weak,
though before you were permitted to try your skills on outsiders
they gave you a very thorough initiation to your Birthrights. It
was too much to stand. Even after they permitted you to follow the
rest of the tribe and spread sickness in the valley (the valley
was inhabited by the Vul, a slow witted chimerical race), you yearned
to leave. Then one night, as you wandered the Vul village looking
for someone to sicken, a great white cloud arose around you. Sirens
wailed and strange beings ran blindly past you in the stinging mist
— coughing, vomiting, dying.
The
creatures fell in the muddy streets. They called themselves "humans,"
but you didn't know that then. It was the morning of December 3,
1984, but human dates meant nothing to you. The town's name was
Bhopal, but you didn't know that either. All you knew was that you
were surrounded by death on a scale unheard of in decades. Any other
self respecting acheri would have settled in for the feast, but
it repulsed you. A child, no older than you really, ran by you.
He was bare-footed and his eyes streamed with blood. You gave chase,
but phantom hands could not stop him and he could not hear your
warning before he pitched blindly down the hill into muddy brook.
His face was half in and half out of the water. You cried helplessly
as he gurgled his last few breaths and then watched as his body
slowly floated away.
Roleplaying
Hints: It's a living and a good one too. India, Bangladesh even
the rural poverty of the Appalachians in America, you are a young
and impassioned healer. Sometimes you wonder why you bother though.
No matter how hard you try, things just seem to be getting worse
and worse in the world. Your fellow acheri don't help much in that
regard. At best, they view you as going through a juvenile phase
before you grow up and face your "real responsibilities". To others,
however, you are a traitor — a weakling who betrays your Adhene's
holy cause. But you are not weak. Compassion is not easy to maintain
in this world, where the easiest course is always to do nothing
or join in the brutality. That urge is buried within you, but you
resist it with all your might. An idealist and a fatalist at the
same time, you do what your conscience dictates even in the face
of a world in flames.
Equipment:
Modern doctor's bag, healing herbs, light pistol (for defense only).
Adhene:
Acheri
Concept: Renegade Healer
Primary Ariá: Apolliae (Squire)
Secondary Ariá: Dioniae (Saint)
Tertiary Ariá: Araminae (Outlaw)
Attributes
Physical: Strength 2, Dexterity 2, Stamina 2
Social: Charisma 3, Manipulation 3, Appearance 2
Mental: Perception 3, Intelligence 4, Wits 3
Abilities
Talents: Alertness 1, Dodge 1, Empathy 1, Intimidation 1, Kenning
2, Subterfuge 3
Skills: Drive 1, Stealth 2, Survival 2
Knowledges: Computer 1, Enigmas 1, Gremayre 1, Law 1, Linguistics
1, Lore (Autumn) 2, Lore (Changeling) 1, Lore (Denizen) 1, Medicine
3, Science 3
Backgrounds:
Dreamers 2, Remembrance 2, Resources 1
Arts: Autumn Way 1, Primal 4
Realms: Actor 3, Fae 2
Glamour:
4
Willpower: 4
Banality: 2
Other
Traits: Evanescent (2 point Merit)/Banished (4 point Flaw) Note:
These templates were done before the book was completed and there
are some rules inconsistencies. The "Evanescent" Merit should be
3 points for an acheri.
Birthrights/Frailty: Plague Nervosa (can cause chimerical disease),
Enticement (+1 to Charisma and Manipulation when corrupting), Rebound
(must cultivate a vice), Scarlet Ban (may not use Birthrights against
those wearing red)
Aonide
Music Groupie
Quote: Oh I get backstage at every show. Usually a stage hand
just points me out to the band and I'm in; what happens next is
a trade secret.
Background:
You have always been a muse of music. You live to listen to new
songs and to be near talented musicians. Since returning to the
Autumn World, you have found that music has changed much. The world
of electronic music is new and fresh to you. Granted, some of the
new technologies make it a bit too easy. Some of the musicians do
not really have much talent at all; they just hit buttons on computers
and drum machines. Others, however, have managed to take these new
instruments and make wondrous new sounds. You have noticed that
the music of today has more anger and sadness to it. These powerful
emotions intoxicate you, as do the reverberations, distortions and
echoes that were impossible in the days of old. Music today is the
art form of rebels and revolutionaries (or at least so you see it).
It seems as if the essence of "Rock and Roll" is an expression of
the Dreaming's outrage over the rise of Banality. You spend much
of your time catching up on the arts of sound and how it has evolved
during your absence. Today's dark and macabre music fits the world
as it has become. Learning the evolution of modern music has taught
you more about what has happened to the spirit of the Autumn World
than any history book ever could.
Concept:
You go to all of the concerts you can and use your charms to worm
your way close to the artists themselves. From there you listen
and inspire as any true muse would. It could be said that musicians
use the groupies that they escort back stage, but you use them as
well, for Glamour and affection. You immerse yourself in the "on
the road" lifestyle, and know that a musician's ego can easily be
flattered. One of your goals is to hear songs that you know were
written about you and to get them out over the radio waves. You
have no need for a job; successful musicians usually have money
in abundance. You have found that all it takes is a bit of sweet
talk and seduction to get your Dreamer musicians to spring for the
food and shelter you need. You have no permanent home because you
are always on the road or in hotel rooms with whatever band catches
your fancy.
Roleplaying
Hints: You are smooth and seductive. You have a way of charming
any good musician that you encounter. Be aggressive when it comes
to other groupies and bump them out of the picture by monopolizing
the attention of whatever band member you are musing. You like to
make suggestions and critiques to the Dreamer whose company you
currently share.
Equipment:
CD collection, ticket stubs from many concerts and a makeup kit.
Adhene:
Aonide
Concept: Music Groupie
Primary Ariá: Dioniae (Troubadour)
Secondary Ariá: Apolliae (Peacock)
Tertiary Ariá: Araminae (Troubadour)
Attributes
Physical: Strength 2, Dexterity 2, Stamina 2
Social: Charisma 3, Manipulation 6, Appearance 3
Mental: Perception 3, Intelligence 2, Wits 4
Abilities
Talents: Alertness 1, Athletics 1, Dodge 1, Empathy 2, Intimidation
1, Kenning 1, Persuasion 2, Streetwise 1, Subterfuge 1
Skills: Drive 2, Etiquette 2, Firearms 1, Performance 3, Stealth
1
Knowledges: Lore (Autumn) , Lore (Changeling) , Lore (Denizen)
Backgrounds:
Contacts 1, Dreamers 3, Holdings 1, Resources 4
Arts: Autumn Way 2, Chicanery 1, Oneiromancy 1
Realms: Actor 3, Fae 2, Scene 1
Glamour:
4
Willpower: 2
Banality: 2
Other
Traits: Evanescent (2 point Merit)/Blackmailed (2 point Flaw)
Birthrights/Frailty: Grace of Calliope (add +2 to Manipulation),
Adonis's Ravaging (may use seduction to steal Glamour), Arachne's
Folly (overly competitive)
Fir-bholg
Corporate Meteorologist
Quote: The weather? Let me see, I predict… your doom! Muhahahahahahah!
Background:
She was out storm-chasing for the local news station when the twister
picked up her car and skipped it like a stone over the parking lot
of the local mall. Somewhere between the Gap and the food court,
the mortal spirit all but begged for you to step in and take over.
Despite all their tools and toys, mortals still hold the weather
in high regard. If there is anything that can get to them, make
them cower before their televisions like pagan idols, it is the
weather. No wonder, what with global warming, ozone alerts, el Niño
and his sister, the fluctuating jet stream and all the rest of your
friends.
You
have a degree, maybe two, in meteorology; yours is the voice that
comes across Channel-7 tracking the aerial giants that threaten
the safe and ordered societies of the county. You are the medium
between the people and the skies, and you have taken full advantage
of your role. It wasn't really that hard to get people to make sacrifices
to you. Just the promise that you would call them first if "something
came their way" was enough to get some of the farmers to play along.
You also managed to pull that boy out of Coffee Creek when it flooded
last spring; he's in now too. When you left Channel-7 for Stratos
Weather Research Incorporated, your popularity grew to new heights.
Now
you're the local gal who has made good! You've got access to all
kinds of new technology, even if you can't touch it. Your word is
taken now like the commands of a druid and bard all rolled into
one! You still chase, of course; your presence at Stratos's research
labs creates all manner of havoc with their machines. You go to
the labs sometimes, just to watch things go wrong, just so the CEO
and his lackeys can explain to the shareholders why their substantial
investments are resulting in radar arrays and sensors that can't
seem to work. Maybe you can bring the CEO into the fold, given enough
time. They do have such nice machines, however. Computers and Doppler
radar and databases, all trying to predict tomorrow's rain. Someday,
when all the elements come together and a true storm brews, you
will call on the breath of the Firchlis to blind their electronic
eyes and deafen their electronic ears. You'll let the great giants
come out and play, and then you will gather up those who strike
your fancy, consolidate your power among them and begin to work
on the Kithain. The masters will be most pleased with your devotion.
Roleplaying
Hints: You speak little, preferring to listen and figure out the
unknowns that everyone else fears. Anyone who can define the unknown
is admired, revered, obeyed. You truly hearken back to the ancient
ways, monarch and shaman all rolled into one; you consider your
wisdom beyond question. When the sky falls, all heads will turn
to you for guidance. Revel in the otherworldliness that surrounds
you and let the other children of the Dreaming wonder at the limits
to your knowledge. Enjoy! Act as though nothing could ever hurt
you. Stride through the world, leaving the Firchlis in your wake,
and sometimes look back and laugh.
Equipment:
Black SUV with corporate logo, pager (broken), cell phone (broken),
CB radio and graduate students (almost broken).
Adhene:
Fir-Bholg
Concept: Corporate Meteorologist
Primary Ariá: Araminae (Sage)
Secondary Ariá: Dioniae (Savage)
Tertiary Ariá: Apolliae (Rogue)
Attributes
Physical: Strength 2, Dexterity 2, Stamina 2
Social: Charisma 3, Manipulation 4, Appearance 3
Mental: Perception 2, Intelligence 2, Wits 4
Abilities
Talents: Alertness 3, Brawl 1, Dodge 1, Empathy 3, Expression 3,
Subterfuge 2
Skills: Drive 3, Etiquette 1, Leadership 3, Performance 2
Knowledges: Lore (Changeling) 1, Lore (Autumn) 2, Science 2
Backgrounds:
Contacts 2, Retinue 2, Resources 3
Arts: Autumn Way 1, Primal 1, Soothsay 3
Realms: Nature 1, Prop 1, Scene 4
Glamour:
2
Willpower: 4
Banality: 2
Other
Traits: Evanescent (2 point Merit), Corporate Ties (3 point Merit)/
Obsession (2 point Flaw)
Birthrights/Frailty: Breath of the Firchlis (can create radical
changes in an area), Eochaid's Hunger (must follow restricted diet
or lose Stamina), Murphy's Law (has difficulty using complicated
tools and machines) Note: Evanescent should be a 3 point Merit
for fir-bholg, and the Frailty of "Murphy's Law" was changed to
"Sacrifice" in the final draft of the book.
Fuath
Avenger
Quote: Feel free to scream. No one will hear you but the rats
and they don't mind the sound. Besides, when they finish with your
tongue, things should quiet down …
Background:
When the Paths of Balor opened once again, you were more curious
than anything else. Young, adventurous and oh-so foolish, you decided
to see what lay beyond Mother Forest. It is — horrible. Everything
has changed since your kind last walked in the world and yet certain
things remain the same. Borrowing flesh from a woman who slept in
the streets, you wandered, exploring the human madness that assaulted
you at every turn. You tried to turn back almost at once, but the
paths that so easily brought you here had disappeared like they
were never there. You have since learned that even the countryside
here is fouled beyond belief, but the cities are charnel pits beyond
measure, filled with human sheep and those who hunt them. Still,
herding sheep is in your kind's blood, or at least it was several
millennia ago. On your first night in the city you saw how the strong
prey on the weak here. A "pimp" and his prostitutes performed a
ritual so old that even you recognized it. The woman did not move
fast enough, or perhaps she was drunk. The reason did not matter
to the man who drew a silver blade and thrust it to her throat.
It did not matter to you either. The natural Glamour by which you
lived in the Dreaming is almost nonexistent here, but you were able
to make the man see you in your avenging form. And he saw your claws.
And he died. Note: In order to call upon the Wyrd, she would
have required The Autumn Way Art at level 2. This is another place
where the rules changed after the templates had been written.
Roleplaying
Hints: How can a place with so many living beings smell so dead?
Night streets slicked with rain and dazzling stripes of flashing
man-made gold, a world so strange to you, but it is here that you
hunt. You do not know what disgusts you more, humanity's brutality
or the insane killing madness that it invokes in you. Theirs is
not the high madness of the night hunt or the holy, frenzied dance
of the maenads. It is death for profit, for sexual gratification
or merely to feel any sensation at all. There are those who would
say that your kind are no better; you do not believe them. These…
humans. Their black dreams drag you down, choking you, making you
one of them. You kill one and a thousand more rise up to take his
place, and each revenge killing burns another hole in your heart.
You are the huntress here and have yet to meet anyone who can beat
you in a fight, but you also know that there are far greater predators
out there than you. A remorseless killer with a bloodied conscience,
you are also frightened, lost and a long way from home.
Equipment:
Cellular phone with no batteries, pen and paper, small bills, subway
ticket with credit for several rides, stolen meat and vegetables
from corner stand.
Adhene:
Fuath
Concept: Fuath Avenger
Primary Ariá: Dioniae (Saint)
Secondary Ariá: Apolliae (Savage)
Tertiary Ariá: Araminae (Bumpkin)
Attributes
Physical: Strength 2, Dexterity 5, Stamina 4
Social: Charisma 2, Manipulation 2, Appearance 2
Mental: Perception 3, Intelligence 2, Wits 3
Abilities
Talents: Alertness 2, Athletics 2, Brawl 3, Dodge 2
Skills: Melee 3, Performance 2, Ride 1, Security 1, Stealth 3, Survival
3
Knowledges: Enigmas 1, Gremayre 1, Lore (Changeling) 1, Lore (Denizen)
2
Backgrounds:
Destiny 1, Remembrance 4
Arts: Legerdemain 2, Primal 1, Wayfare 1
Realms: Actor 3, Fae 2, Nature 3
Glamour:
4
Willpower: 4
Banality: 0
Other
Traits: Jack o' Will (3 point Flaw)
Birthrights/Frailty: Beast Tongue (may speak with animals), Animal
Nature (increased athletics and Stamina), Maenad's Madness (the
fuath enters animal frenzies)
Keremet
Knight Errant
Quote: Do not be afraid; your death but completes the wheel you
began with your birth.
Background:
Eshu paths, blue sands, eshu but not eshu. Your father was an ambassador
or maybe he was a professor — or a king. Schooled in London and
America, he was an educated man, a charming and a rational man.
Mother was just the opposite: irrational, uneducated in the usual
sense and free. It could have been a faerie tale; in fact it was.
The handsome king married the impoverished waif and took her to
his castle where she lived happily after. Only the king was really
an angry and brutal man, and the palace a dungeon. But the story
did not end here because one day, before the first bloom was off
the relationship, a young prince was born to the angry king and
the serving girl. And — against all tradition — the child was born
before the marriage took place, making the young prince a bastard.
And the king never let the child forget what he was and the palace
became his cell as well. Only the story does not end here.
You
see, the peasant girl was really an enchanted queen — or an eshu,
which is even better. And sometimes the queen would take her young
son to places beyond the castle wall, though they could not escape
often because the king was really a powerful Autumn Person — or
a Dauntain, which is even worse. And even though he was slowly stealing
the queen's faerie spirit, she still believed that she loved the
king and would not escape. Yet sometimes, when it was just the prince
and his mother, he could see beyond the gray walls of the castle
and see the blue sands of the eshu deserts, and imagine what it
might be like to fly over the walls to the lands beyond the crescent
moon. Only this was impossible, for although his mother was a queen,
his father's blood meant that he would never be one of the true
eshu. Only the story does not end here either.
Every
year the king grew more angry and more jealous of the prince and
his mother. Sometimes the king would come home from affairs of court
and he would be drunk. Sometimes there would be another woman and
sometimes there wasn't. And sometimes the king would beat the queen
and sometimes the young prince, and sometimes he would beat them
both. And every year the special glimmer in the queen died a little
more until she was nothing but a serving girl. But every year the
prince grew a little older and a little stronger until he was almost
as large as the king. And one day the angry king became especially
angry and, no longer satisfied to kill only the queen's spirit,
he swore to take her life. The young prince, now no longer so young,
fought with his father and, even though he did not mean to, the
knife somehow turned in the king's hand and pierced his black heart.
Only the story did not end there, for the Dreaming affects a price
for killing one of its own, even if he was a bastard or Dauntain.
As the king died, he struck the prince with all his power, killing
him too and leaving the queen to grieve alone.
Roleplaying
Hints: Keremet paths, black winds, dead but not dead. This story
feels like it should mean something, but you rarely feel anything
at all. The boy who would never be an eshu prince now wanders trods
that no eshu or any other fae should ever know. You ride through
driving winds filled with oil, soot and voices of jealous shades
who envy even your small spark of life. You speak with some of them,
other lost souls who were never able to finish their life the way
it should have been. Sometimes you aid them in the hopes of finding
some meaning or scraps of lost emotion. Sometimes the blackness
closes in and swallows you whole. As a child you would have imagined
it to be a dragon or a dark monster that you could battle with your
trusty sword. Now, you realize it is just the shadow of another
lost dream.
Equipment:
Black trench-coat, chimerical blade, black horse, locket with faded
picture.
Adhene:
Keremet
Concept: Knight Errant
Primary Ariá: Apolliae (Wayfarer)
Secondary Ariá: Araminae (Wayfarer)
Tertiary Ariá: Dioniae (Wretch)
Attributes
Physical: Strength 3, Dexterity 3, Stamina 4
Social: Charisma 2, Manipulation 2, Appearance 2
Mental: Perception 3, Intelligence 3, Wits 2
Abilities
Talents: Alertness 1, Athletics 3, Brawl 3, Dodge 3, Intimidation
1, Kenning 2
Skills: Firearms 1, Melee 3, Ride 1, Stealth 2, Survival 2
Knowledges: Enigmas 1, Gremayre 1, Lore (Denizen) 3
Backgrounds:
Chimera 3 (Steed), Destiny 2, Remembrance 2, Treasure 2 (Sword)
Arts: Discord 1, Wayfare 3
Realms: Actor 1, Fae 3, Prop 1, Scene 2
Glamour:
3
Willpower: 3
Banality: 0
Other
Traits: Aura of Fear (2 point Merit)/Outcast (2 point Flaw)
Birthrights/Frailty: Shadowed Way (may travel the Black Paths of
Balor), Will to Power (Iron Will and reduced damage penalties),
Pact of Dagda (bond of duty), Melancholia (Increased difficulty
to Social and Empathy rolls)
Moiræ
Card Shark
Quote: Cheating? No, it's just beginner's luck; I assure you.
Keep dealing; my luck's bound to change soon or later.
Background:
When you were young, all you knew was the temple. The high priestess
and the other oracles were the only family you ever had, and that
seemed enough. After all, yours was a glorious destiny. You were
a proud part of a tradition that stretched back over 10,000 years,
to the dawn of civilization. Even among the chosen keepers of fate,
you were always told that yours was a very special destiny. You
couldn't face the responsibilities; that's why you ran away. And
that's why it is so ironic that, after all these many years, your
Dán has chosen to bring you to this place… Vegas!
Roleplaying
Hints: "What? I am sorry," said Death in a flat sepulchral tone.
"I myself was very startled to see Vashtu Singh here in the market
place. You see, I have an appointment with him tomorrow in Samara."
Hah! Death was a piker compared to the Sisters Three. Maybe they're
right; running from Fate is an exercise in futility. Ten thousand
years of history would seem to verify that little truism. You trace
your personal lineage from the Oracle of Delphi and now here you
sit in the casino bar, getting complimentary drinks from a waitress
who will someday realize her dream of becoming a country singer.
You are counting your winnings and wondering if your great-great
grandmother the Delphic Oracle sometimes realized just how full
of shit she was — or if she would have approved of your recent ventures
into day-trading. The role of the oracle, Handmaiden of Fate, has
so much blood and tragedy rolled up in it that it almost seems correct
that you should be here as the judge you were sent to be. It would
be easy too. People here in the waking world are so guilty, so eager
to believe the worst of themselves and so eager to be judged. How
else can you explain the explosion of judge shows and screechy moralists
blaring their pabulum from every speaker? Or maybe its just you.
Certainly there are not many moiræ who think as you do.
There
were early moiræ who chose to lie to the three Norns and were cursed
for their presumption. Like all moiræ, you have a curse of your
own; it's called free will. To use your gift or not? Lead humanity
prediction by prediction to Heaven or to Hell? That's the other
part of the curse. Not even the three Norns know everything and
a spirit such as you can only grasp parts of the puzzle. The fact
that you can see the absurdity inherent to much of the universe's
design only makes it all the harder. And so you sit here, using
your holy gift of vision to clean up at the wheel, getting another
annoyed look from the hotel detective (who will die in an auto wreck
later tonight, poor dear) and wishing you could see your own Dán
through the haze.
Equipment:
Cards (playing and tarot), white cow-girl suit and hat, sunglasses,
red Mustang convertible.
Adhene:
Moiræ
Concept: Card Shark
Primary Ariá: Dioniae (Rogue)
Secondary Ariá: Araminae (Outlaw)
Tertiary Ariá: Apolliae (Squire)
Attributes
Physical: Strength 2, Dexterity 2, Stamina 2
Social: Charisma 3, Manipulation 3, Appearance 2
Mental: Perception 3, Intelligence 3, Wits 4
Abilities
Talents: Alertness 1, Empathy 2, Kenning 2, Persuasion 3, Streetwise
2, Subterfuge 3
Skills: Drive 1, Etiquette 2, Leadership 2, Stealth 2, Survival
1
Knowledges: Gremayre 2, Law 1, Lore (Autumn) 1, Lore (Denizen) 1
Backgrounds:
Destiny 3, Resources 3
Arts: Autumn Way 2, Soothsay 3
Realms: Actor 2, Fae 4
Glamour:
4
Willpower: 3
Banality: 2
Other
Traits: Evanescent (1 point Merit)/Banished (2 point Flaw) Note:
Evanescent should be a 2 point Merit for the moiræ.
Birthrights/Frailty: Aural Perception (can see pieces of someone's
destiny), Fata (protective ban/curse), Superstition (vulnerable
to superstitions)
|