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This document is a compilation of a series of threads on, where users posted
rumors for use as idea fodder, hidden truths, or simple scuttlebutt in the World of Darkness. All
credit goes to the users responsible for posting.
Compiled by Stupid Loserman from threads as of June 8, 2013.


Posted by Maijin Drew as "[WoD:Innocents] Rumors, In the Tradition of UA" on 6/2/2008.

Rumors by Arnino Storm, BlackHat_Matt, Craig Oxbrow, Daztur, Doctor,Wildstorm, EarthScorpion,

ElectricPaladin, Falling Comet, gryftir, haren, J.T., Little_Rat, Maijin Drew, Mister Gone, Moe Ronalds, NPC,
Orthodox_Gozerite, SlyBen, SpringsBoundlessThorns, teucer, and ZeroAvatar.


Posted by The Tim as "[God-Machine Chronicle] Portents of the God-Machine" on 5/9/2013.

Rumors by Baffle Mint, Calibanv2, ChairKicker, Craig Oxbrow, elmerg, Evil Midnight Lurker, Fallen Seraph,
ktimothy, MorsRattus, MrInsecure, Patkin, Ramza, Redford_Blade, Stephenls, Stupid Loserman, TechnocratJT,
That Other Guy, The Tim, Thysane, and Zero Gravitas.


Posted by Emprint as "[Vampire: The Requiem] Rumors, in the tradition of UA" on 8/31/2004.

Rumors by Aesthete, A Letter From Prague, AmesJainchill, Annael, anowack, Arnino Storm, ascendance,
Ataxerxes, Bailywolf, BitterOldJoe, BlackHat_Matt, Bruce Leenomorph, Byron Alexander, Cenobite, Cerulean
Lion, Cessna, Chamchawala's Last Supper, Chesterberg, Christian A, Coyraven, Craig Oxbrow, CrownedSun,
DannyK, dddawson, Doc Dexter, Doctor,Wildstorm, d s addison, DXM, EarthScorpion, Echo's Bones, Emprint,
Ferrinus, florin, Garm, Ghola, GregStolze, Halloween Jack, indra, Jadasc, JCAmbrosius, jeff_vandenberg, Jess
Heinig, J. H. Frank, Jim DelRosso, Johnny Amiable, JustJo, Kavak, Kenshiro, Kingleon, krfsm, Kurotowa,
l3n1ngr4d, Levi, Maijin Drew, Marikir, Matt David T., medivh, Mengtzu, Menocchio, Mister Gone, Moe Ronalds,
Monk Ed, Mr.Poor, Mr. Sluagh, November, Numanoid, Odie, Old Toby, Patkin, pelvo, PenguinZero, Peter
Svensson, Professor Phobos, Pseudoephedrine, Quendalon, radiant song, Random Nerd, Ratoslov, rbingham2000,
Rich Stokes, rickjthree, Sabermane, Sam From Hell, Servitor_2152, SheliakBob, Shining Dragon, SirFozzie,
SonicLlama, soylent, Stantz, Stephenls, SunlessNick, Tenzil, The Bard of Crete, theliel, The Scribbler, The Tim,
tk421, Tower, Willow, Wizdoc, Wormwood, and Yuyu.


Posted by Christian A as "[Werewolf: the Forsaken] Rumors, in the tradition of UA" on

Rumors by A Letter From Prague, Anivair, Antithesis, Arnino Storm, Asklepios, Azrael, beachfox,
BlackHat_Matt, Bruce Leenomorph, Calculon, candaon, Cerulean Lion, Christian A, Coyraven, Domoviye,
EarthScorpion, Echo's Bones, ElectricPaladin, Ferrinus, GhostBoy, HuckleberryNorwood, hylee, Johnny Amiable,
Kavak, Kesh, Kuhan, Max Deltree, mpascal02, Numanoid, Omar, Patkin, Peter Svensson, Professor Phobos,
Ravious, Servitor_2152, Shemjaza, Shining Dragon, sigma7, Stephenls, Toras, Ujio, Vitenka, and Willow.


Posted by Stephenls as "[Mage: The Awakening] Rumors, in the tradition of UA" on 9/3/2005.

Rumors by [Internet Meme Here], 2trick, ajardoor, A Letter From Prague, aprogressivist, Arnino Storm, Ataxerxes,
AuntNeppy, Azezel, Azidhak, beachfox, Belmonte, BrianDR, Cantankerous, Cerulean Lion, Charion1234,
Christian A, Cith, CrownedSun, Cruton, Cthulhu's Advocate, d23, DariusSolluman, Dark Eye, dead_tom,
Doctor,Wildstorm, d s addison, EarthScorpion, Echo's Bones, ElectricPaladin, etu, Fade, Ferrinus, Fruitbat, Glitch
Please, Goblinardo, Greymarch, Helico, Ialdabaoth, JoeCrow, John P., Kaiu Keiichi, Karanov, Kurotowa, Levi,
LucitasBastardChilde, Luvah, Marc G., Marikir, Martys, Matt.Ceb, Matt David T., Matthew Lankard, Menocchio,
midnight77, Mirrorscape, Monsieur Meuble, Mostlyjoe, Mr. Sluagh, Nick Brazukas, Nokura, Numanoid,
Ophidimancer, Patkin, Peter Svensson, Phantom Grunweasel, Pillsy, pointyman2000, Pseudoephedrine, Pureluck,
QuZi, Ramnesis, Ratoslov, Ravious, Redlimit, ResplendentHawk, Rylenor, Servitor_2152, shanoxilt, Shining
Dragon, shouldabeenadog, Shroudbearer, s/LaSH, Spook, starblade, Stephenls, Stormraven, strstr,
SurfingOnSineWaves, TavishArtair, TheFan, The Goatwriter, The Watcher, TraHari, travis, tk421, Ujio,
Winston Smith, Yo! Master, and zakueins.


Posted by Stephenls as "[Promethean: The Created] Rumors, in the tradition of UA" on

Rumors by Arnino Storm, beachfox, BlackHat_Matt, Charion1234, Craig Oxbrow, CrownedSun, cybersluagh,
Echo's Bones, ElectricPaladin, Ferrinus, Gizmit, Kuhan, Mostlyjoe, Numanoid, Patkin, Shining Dragon, Stephenls,
The Watcher, Thing, Tomb's Grave, Willow, and Wraith's Hand.


Posted by Helico as "[Changeling: tL] Rumors in the tradition of UA" on 9/13/2007.

Rumors by Alvin Frewer, Andrew Tatro, Arnino Storm, Azezel, BlackHat_Matt, Brad Ellison, Charion1234,
Doctor,Wildstorm, EarthScorpion, Echo's Bones, ElectricPaladin, Firefly Night, ghost whistler, Glamourweaver,
Haecceity, Helico, Iozz-Sothoth, Kavak, Mr.Samedi, NPC, Omegatron, Patkin, Peter Svensson, Sex Bobomb,
Tammuz_Ferrum, tk421, Unseenlibrarian, Zach, and zakueins.


Posted by Echo's Bones as "[Hunter: the Vigil] Rumors, in the tradition of UA" on 8/23/2008
and by Mostlyjoe as "[H:tV] Busy night on a Network 0 forum..." on 8/25/2008.

Rumors by ADamiani, ajardoor, Arnino Storm, AstraKiseki, Azunth, b4d0m3n, Behemoth, Cerulean Lion,
Charade, Conrad Gray, Crowbar, darkhunterjag, Distort, Doctor,Wildstorm, DogMeat, Doom Gaze, Dr_BadLogic,
EarthScorpion, Echo's Bones, ElectricPaladin, elmerg, Feldion, Gattsuru, In Sight In Mind, Ithaeur, Jack, Kastor
Krieg, Kevin Mowery, Lost Demiurge, LucitasBastardChilde, macd21, malindle, mgrasso, Mike Taylor, Mostlyjoe,
Neel Krishnaswami, Oblivious ignorant elf, PatientZed, Patkin, Peter Svensson, PhatChance, prototype00,
SeekerJST, Servitor_2152, SirFozzie, skinnyghost, Smartmonkey, Super Jonathan, Themiscyra, thenorm42, The
Watcher, travis, Tristan, Winston Smith, Wraith's Hand, Wraithstrike, and zakueins.

Table of Contents



Schoolyard Rumors


Hey, do you have a pair of walkie-talkies? If we find something made of metal, we can hear the
Russians talking. We just cross the antennas and put them on something big and metal. Corey
heard them yesterday.

Turn your shoes to face opposite directions or the foot monster will come and take them away
along with your feet.
Yeah, you may laugh, but old man Richards didn't and he's in a wheelchair.
What was that, he was born with no feet... right then, look at this picture of him playing Little
League when he was six.

Shame about Robbie; say he'll be in hospital for the rest of his life.
Yeah, stupid kid, always saying he's not scared of shadows; well, he sure is scared now, cackled
the old woman from beh the group of kids outside the school as she shuffled off down the street
and into the old Henderson's house.

On the shortest day of the year, a strange man will stand outside the playground. If you make
him a promise, he'll give you anything you want. But you have to keep your promise, or bad
things will happen to you.
Very bad things.

If you pee your bed, the monsters can't get you.

Eww, gross!
That's what the monsters think too.

If you take a rusty piece of metal and work at the skin on your feet, you can pry your shadow
loose, and then nobody can hear you walking, ever! It's better if you do it in the summer,
though, when the skin on your feet is thicker from going barefoot. I forget why. Mom said
something about the green gang or something.

You know that old style light post in the park? Have you ever looked closely at it? It looks like a
tree. Even has leaves... at least in spring and summer.
Adults don't believe it, saying it's just artistic... but in autumn they fall, and once I saw woman
standing there pale as snow among the black leaves as they hit the ground and turned to dust.
I've heard that you can tell it's her because she seems to almost shimmer away in the wind.
And if you go to her, she'll give you a gift if you've been a good girl or boy, but if you have been
bad... *shudders*. The big problem is no one knows what she thinks is good or bad.

If you wear your jacket inside-out, the teachers at school can't see you!


That house right next to yours with junk piled so high inside you can see it through the grimy
windows... someone lives in there... even if you never see lights at night or anyone coming and
going... someone lives there.

So the dining hall's got this big map of the camp grounds, right? You know how it shows a spot
within easy hiking distance called Spanish Cave? Ever been on a hike to it?
Of course not. Nobody ever goes there. Some of the mentors (guys who lead hikes every
morning that everyone goes on - ed) are old enough to have been campers back when they did,
and they'll tell you it caved in. But the real story is much better.

Nobody knows where the pipe that goes under the school goes to. It's always dry, so people
climb it, but when you get deep enough.... nobody ever goes past the sneaker pile.

If you go all the way through that forest behind the school, there's an old abandoned house
there. However, while the house may be all rotten and empty, there is something living at the
bottom of the old well in the garden! When moonlight falls down the well you can talk to it
and it will grant you wishes - if you pay for them with something really cool or weird or
important, like your favorite comic or your little brother's pet stone or the hairbrush of your big

You can only get to Boy Scout Island at low tide. Strange things up in the water at high tide so
make sure you always get back off the island before the tide goes up.

You know that room downstairs, 51, that always is dark, is always locked and according to the
map of the school, is like, longer than it is wide? Yeah, no idea what it is. Some people say it's a
bomb shelter from the fifties, some people say it's an old detention hall no one uses, and still
others say it is an archery range from when target practice was part of PE. But I hear room 51 is
much weirder than that, much much weirder.

You know how there are those stairs that go down by the cafeteria where all the others just
stop? Well if you go down them they take you underneath the school, but not like a basement.
There's like furnaces and stuff but then there's all these tunnels going everywhere under the
school because it was built on Indian caves. I know cuz my older brother went down there once
on a dare but he didn't get very far because he pretended, like, he was going to the bathroom, so
he had to get back to class. And he said he got scared because he said he saw people who like
weren't people moving around and he told me to not use the stairs by the cafeteria and never go
down them.


You know those woods between Ryder Court and Jacob Street? Don't ever go in there. There's a
guy who lives in an old shack, and his dog eats people. I saw that dog yesterday, and his mouth
was covered in guts. I didn't see the house, but I also heard that the house is surrounded by

Back in that forest there is a lake with a monster in it. No lie. It ate Brad's big ol' dog like it was
nothing. It has a head like an alligator except its skin is all black and its body is like a huge
snake. So if you are gonna play back there, better bring it something to snack on so it don't
snack on you. I heard it likes fried chicken.

The teacher lady who lives in the white house, down on Blossom Street? She's not a teacher.

She's a monster with bones for a hand, and she turns kids into kittens and then breaks their
necks with her bone hand! If you hear a crack crack crack noise coming from her house, that's
what she's doing - breaking kittens necks with her bone hand.

I heard, I heard, that there's a nasty man called Achey Lubcraft, and he has lots of tentacles
coming form his face, and he's buried at the bottom of the sea, and he wants to wake up and eat
us all, and that nasty tramp down by the dockside is one of his children.

Kenny...coul-could you maybe spend the night tomorrow?

You sure? You're a girl, Kiki!
Y-Yeah...but I just want someone else to see the man who stands in the field outside my
house...he keeps staring at my windows. What was it Carl was talking about before he
disappeared? Some friggin' weirdo standing outside his window all the time!

Honey, you still sad that Katie has gone missing?

Yeah, a little, mum, but Mrs. Keller says I can go for a picnic with her if I like to cheer me up.
Sweetheart, Mrs. Keller died last year in a fire at her house.
But mum, she said I could last night when I talked to her outside her house. Said Id be able to
play with Katie if I went on the picnic with her.

My babysitter is a gnome. Really! The puppy had an accident and she lost her cool. For a
second I could she who she really is, tiny and thin with a crystal shell. Then she sneezed and
she was back to normal.

I gave Colin three pogs and a whistle today, so he'd tell me why he doesn't go down Nightshade
Avenue anymore. We used to ride down there all the time, see, but then he started chickening
out. So then he told me that there's this guy down the street, guy named Taterhead. I tell Colin
that's an ass name, and he says he's called Taterhead because he hasn't got a face. Like, he's got
a face, but Colin says it comes off, bit by bit, and all you've got are these holes, just like a Mr.
At first I called Colin a baby and was about to hit him until he gave me my whistle back, but
then I look in the gutter and I see this little floppy peach thing lying in the gutter. I pick it up,
and next thing I know Colin's chickening out of there. What? Well yeah, I left too. But I wasn't
such a crybaby about it.
Hey, that kazoo you've got looks pretty beat up. Wanna trade it for a genuine human ear?


Did you hear Maggie went missing last night? All they found in her bed was a small doll that
looked like her.
Her mother was so upset she hurled it into the fire... Shit, man, everyone there thinks they
heard a distant scream when the doll caught fire.

It all started when little Jimmy Hopkins disappeared after he was seen running into the woods.
The adults spent weeks looking for him, the whole state was in a panic. For some reason, most
of the kids in his class began talking to imaginary friends on that very day. All of them claim
their friend's name is Jimmy.

Harold Refree Park is two streets over from my house, but you can see part of it from the window in my attic.
That's on account of the way the streets are all curvy in this neighborhood. You can see the willow tree and part of
the grass around it, and one end of the bridge, between the second and third house across the street. If you go up
my street a lil way there's a court on one side and at the end of it you can take a short-cut to the smaller end of the
park. There's a path between two houses. Teenagers cut through there on the way to the Catholic highschool.
What? There's a smaller end, and then it bends, and there's the rest, the bigger end. The smaller end in right in the
middle of the neighborhood. Anyways, I'm glad we don't live closer. People meet under that tree at night and light
candles. I've seen 'em. One time we found ribbons tied to a bunch of the branches. No not at night! Are you nuts?
We went down there in the day time. I'm not stupid. No kids can go through the park after dark. Only adults.
Because adults are bigger or something. I don't know, but one time a girl got killed there back in the bushes by
some old homeless guy. They cut the bushes down after that but they've grown back by now. I can show you the
spot if you don't tell anyone we saw it. There's a lil tree where she died. I think she got stabbed. In the neck. That
was back before the playground got taken out of the smaller end of the park. I remember it, it was all rusty and old,
like from when my dad was a kid. I always see a lot of crows flyin over the park in circles, and they are all over
down there. You can hear 'em from my house sometimes. They're freaky smart, they can say your name if they hear
it, so we don't call each other by name when we go there. Franklin used to walk home from school through the
park and his brother called him by name once tryin' to catch up to him and the crows were all "Franky Franky!"
after that. I'm serious! Yeah, and also there's a hole under the brige. No, no troll... that's stupid. It's where the rats
live. Like a lot of them. And there's a big one, too, but you never wanna see it. You'd just lose it, go nuts. It's big as
a dog. I was 4 when we moved here but I remember that this lady came over and told my mom that if we had cats
to keep them in because a raccoon was killing them at night and dragging them into the park. Yeah I was 4 but I
knew that she was wrong. It's rats. You can see 'em running along the power lines at sunset. No, not the big one! It
lives in the hole. Franklin's brother told me he saw it once from far away. Well, I dunno, he's big like an adult so
maybe he's immune to going nuts. Anyways, come on, I'll show you the willow tree from the window. Oh yeah, you
can see into the next-door neighbor girls' bedroom from there too. They're twins. It's pretty cool.

That giant guy who started working at the junk yard last summer? I've heard he builds really
spooky dolls in that little shack of his! Dolls that look like living people! Some of them can
even move - and my cousin had his "accident" on the very same night he wanted to sneak in

We shouldn't dig a tunnel under the garden, if we do it will collapse on us. I had a dream about

Dante from Devil May Cry is real!!! He works at the Quick Stop. He hit a huge!!!!! bug with a
hammer and it exploded with blood.

There's a guy that looks just like our teacher on my grandpa's old picture of when he was young.
It's true, I'll show them to you tomorrow!

My homeroom teacher Mrs. Sakowski's a witch. But she's a good witch so that's okay. That's
why she tells everybody she is.

Portents of the God Machine


Do you know how much a single pound costs in rocket fuel? Hell if I know, but NASA does. So
why is there unaccounted for weight on every mission since Friendship 7? You know the one
where they saw those fireflies around the Mercury capsule. When the spacecraft comes down
though that weight is gone, and it wasn't part of any booster rocket. They are leaving something
up there.

So, I got told to go to office supplies, but the door was locked. The guy sitting next to in his
cubicle said he didn't know where the key was, but he remembered they used to stock supplies
down a floor. So I went to check and, yeah, there was a supply closet but... I'm not sure who the
supplies were for. There were wire hangers, clock gears, car pistons, ball-pin hammers, a metal
shopping cart in the back full of boxes of 8' nails and 2" screws. It was like walking into a
hardware shop.
We're an office of paper-pushers, who's planning to use these?

Those indoor play places, you know the ones--all tunnels and slides and so on. They are meant
to acclimate kids to navigating the guts of the God-Machine. You can tell because some of
those play places connect directly to the God-Machine.

You know, when a jet flies high overhead, it leaves this huge trails of smoke in the sky.
Chemtrails. They're spraying us with something, turning our bodies into factories. People who
claim to be abducted, that find those little metal bits stuck in them? They're wrong about the
aliens shoving it up there. No. Those things are what's left of what they took out. We grow the
parts they need and it all comes from those trails.

No, chemtrails are a distraction. Watch out for chemtrails, then don't look at them. Look at a
different part of the sky. Look for the sun hidden behind clouds. Look carefully. There's
something in space getting closer to us. On days when the government deploys chemtrails, it's
visible, but nobody sees; they all look at the chemtrails instead. The second sun is getting
closer. They won't be able to hide it for much longer.

Crop circles on open graze ranches are maps. If you follow the circles in the right direction,
you'll find yourself moving through space in the field. Walk far enough and the shadow of a vast
abattoir will rise over the wheat. Turn back at any point and you'll end up back at the edge of
the circle. I'm not crazy enough to keep going and find out what's in the abattoir.
So where do they come from? It's sure as hell not aliens. I've looked at how the wheat is
trampled, and I have only one conclusion. The cattle are walking the path.

I'm sure you have all heard about the Philadelphia Experiment, well as I am sure you know it is
just a hoax. In fact it is so much of a hoax that the USS Eldridge didn't exist till October 28th,
1943. On the day of the incident though records, photos, service records start to appear.


There's this diner I go to, with one of those take-a-penny, leave-a-penny dishes. I watch people;
I mean, my mind is always buzzing, so it helps keep my thoughts off other things. I started to
notice a pattern in which customers would take or leave a penny. At first I just thought some
customers were cheap and some were generous (or had too many pennies), but the closer I
looked, the less it had anything to do with the person. It was based on the time. Leave-leaveleave. Take-take-take. Leave-leave-leave. Leave-leave-leave. Take-take-take. Leave-leaveleave. Once I even caught myself doing it.
It started to get on my nerves. So one day, half as a joke, I scooped up a whole handful of
pennies on my way out.
All the employees stopped where they were. Stock still, like they were frozen in time. I even put
the pennies back.
The next time I came, they were moving again, and there was a little poster on the wall. "Do
not serve this person." My face on it. They wouldn't say a word about it. Just, would I please


Next time you go out to a Chinese restaurant, look for a small black box, about the size of an
old tower computer except with less breadth, silver trim. It should have a little port in the front,
like a change machine, but it spits the cash back out whenever you try to feed it money. Then
there's another little dispenser slot at the bottom. If you find one, you're at a participating place.
Enjoy your meal, then crack your fortune cookie. If it's a good fortune, you're golden. Have a
nice day. If you don't like what it says, take it to the black box and feed it into the slot. It'll
dispense a new fortune. You're stuck with this one, but usually it's good news. Go home happy.
If it's bad news again, don't try to feed it back in the machine. I hope you're hungry, because the
only way out then is to order another entire meal, finish it, open the fortune cookie you get
after that, and then eat the bad fortune.

There are some people who mumble about the stitches when they think they're alone. These
people are not real.

Hey man, check it out, I just heard this crazy rumor! They say that if you go to the Triangle Bar
after midnight and ask the bartender for "something to help me wind down," you'll be taken
down to this room where they've supposedly got hot chicks and booze and all sorts of other
awesome shit for free... hey, I'm telling you this is real, man! It's like for a secret society or
something, special privileges. This guy I know, from work, he did it, and he said it was a 'lifechanging experience.'
So, wanna come with me on Friday to try it out?


Now, true fact: the Dalai Lama says that a digital gif of a prayer wheel will emanate peaceful
prayers in the same way as a physical one.
He's right, you know. Your disk drive can pray. So can your website. But you need to be careful
what they pray for. You can control the gifs you place, and you can get the Om Mani Padme
Hum going with a nice prayer wheel gif or app.
But you should check your hard drive. Find out what's written on it. Factory standard? Factory
standard prayers go out as your hard drive spins.

Do you know what your hard drive is praying for? I checked mine. I couldn't read the language,
though. It looked old, but it didn't match to any scripts I could find. Not Chaldean, not Phagspa, not Chinese, not Tibetan. That wasn't a human language. And when I poked around in the
manufacturing process, no one even mentioned the prayers.
The machines are writing the prayers.
What are they praying for? And what language are they praying in?
And who are they praying to?

The rumors are wrong: the government doesn't put mind control drugs in the tap water. They're
in bottled water. And it's not the government.

Last year's national defense budget was over a trillion dollars, on paper. In this economy, we're
spending over a trillion dollars on that? Government's stupid, but it's not magic. The budget is a
smokescreen for the fact that we're not actually manufacturing weapons anymore. Defense
contractors have big confidential fields designated for weapons testing or other black-budget
stuff. That's where they keep the nests. We grow our weapons now.

Motherfucker. I've had this tattoo design for years, carefully adjusted and drawn so that it was
perfect, and so I go to this guy and I get it done and he adds in these weird little clockwork
things to it. And I'm apparently not the only one he's done it to. A bunch of us are going to
head to his place and complain...

Three American state capitals and twelve world national capitals are not native to this Earth.
They have infiltrated our municipal grids and displaced the true capitals.
If you find yourself crossing the city limits of one of these false capitals, say a prayer silently
while you cross. Doesn't matter what prayer, what faith. If you're agnostic, God help you.

Every night janitor is given a key ring with a key for every room in the building, plus one more
key. The last key opens a door somewhere else in the city. Behind the last door is a promotion
and a revelation.

An obscure law on the federal books requires all hospitals to have a covered passageway
connecting to the nearest tax bureau. Most hospitals are not aware of this law. Some still have
passageways that are forgotten and fallen into disuse.

Crosswalk signals are how cities read their pulses. Always press the crosswalk button if you don't
want your city to suffer circulatory problems except when the city is looking for you.


Templates to create prosthetics on 3D printers are starting to appear. A number of them have
no claimed creators, and seem eerily well customized to the individuals looking for them.

Listen, I told you this before, but you probably don't remember. You shook it off. But a year ago,
I was stuck in a traffic jam and I noticed a truck going down the other lane. It looked like a tank
truck or a car carrier, but it wasn't. It was carrying podsrows of white pods stacked on top of
one another. Each the size of a human body.
I told you, you can't come in. Don't go outside. I've locked all my doors and windows. See, I saw
another one this morning...


You don't remember downloading the app, but it's still on your phone's screen. The logo's a
stylised 'f', the caption is just 'futur'. You tap it out of curiosity more than anything.
It gives you a strangely specific prediction: At 3:17, a man you do not know will give you his
copy of the Daily Telegraph or At 9:48, you will see a woman wearing pink shoes. It also has
a single button, marked Act. If you tap that button, the app suggests how you should respond.
Take the newspaper and put it in your office trashcan or ask her the time.
Nothing happens when you do what the app says. Nothing happens when you don't do what
the app says. At least, you think not. But its predictions are accurate, and you're checking it
more and more.

The spam is talking to you.

Despite its mangled syntax, it answers questions - some you haven't even asked yet. And its
strange phrasing seems to be offering things other than free movie downloads or fake passports.
They just need you to avail their membership. Membership authenticates you to observe free
movies throughout your life, simply when paying one time fee. Once you be part of them, youll
have a key to open the door of a movies store wherever thousands of free movies area unit
offered in able to Watch format.

Tuning your radio to catch your mp3 transmitter on a station, you come across a station that is
only repeating numbers. Every time you accidentally tune into it, the numbers are in a different

My street is in a sort of rural part of town so we still got a party line set-up. You know those
phone lines where everyone is on the same line and you can eavesdrop in. Well, we only have
about 20 houses on our street and the number of people I have heard on that party line is way
above that and they are talking about things that haven't happened.

I got called out to do repairs on East Broadway. Regular job, maintenance on the vending
machines they have out there. Only this time there was a new machine wedged in the middle.
Coke, Pepsi, Frito-Lay, the Tribune, cigarettes and a pray-o-mat. I opened it up and couldn't
make heads or tails of most of it, but the money feed was full of high-denomination bills with
wishes written on 'em in marker. Save my daughter, promotion to management, I want to
make it into Yale. Owner of the vending line said he had nothing to do with the machine.
Next time I was called out there, it was gone.

Urban legends, like the story about the man with the hook for a hand, don't start gradually.
One day they're not there and the next day everybody's talking about them.

You know those big symbols in the desert used to calibrate spy satellites? They have always been
there, we just first noticed them when we sent up our satellites. The government just took
credit to keep it under wraps. They do calibrate the satellites but to see things they weren't
meant to. I know a guy who works on them says there was a course recalculation for one of the
satellites. It will be doing a calibration over the Nazca Lines this week; I wonder what it will see.

Un chien andalou was produced under divine inspiration. Its purpose has not yet been achieved.

Kubla Khan's completion was prevented by divine intervention.

Managerial employees of seven major corporations in the United States and Canada, including
Pfizer and News Corporation, get a special dental plan that requires them to go to a

participating dentist. The implants they receive there pick up low-frequency radio waves
designed for communication and conditioning. CBS corporate headquarters has a muzak system
that includes low-frequency noise waves to disrupt the dental communication network.


Friend of mine works at a warehouse that stores practical effects materials just outside of
Small budget productions come and rent stuff all the time, collectors come looking for pieces to
finish a collection but for the most part the place is not that active anymore. Between CGI,
practical effects that don't last and the stuff studios are more likely to save these days the stuff
there shows its age. But it's fairly cool anyway, there is a whole shelf of decapitated heads and a
stack of that newspaper you see in over and over in 80s and 90s TV shows.
Only recently, well, my friend seems stressed and this is what he says...
That downtown LA school shooting five months ago? The day after he found a mannequin of
the teacher who died. I mean the same hair color and clothes. He took a photo on his phone
and yeah, it looks a bit like her. He swears he has never seen it before and thought it was a sick
joke. Few weeks later he found a bunch of dismembered plaster body parts and a mock up of half
a wrecked fuel truck in a back room. Yeah, you saw the wreck on TV too, huh? Thing is he
showed me some of this stuff and it looked old, at least twenty years - peeling paint and worn
edges. And that fake truck was plywood.
He said it freaked him out. And he started looking up murders, accidents and weird deaths. And
for dozens in the great LA area he could found props that matched. Which is creepy I guess, but
special effects guys have to get inspiration somewhere. And murders and car accidents don't
come in that many variations over the years, I suppose. But he really started freaking out. See
people check shit out, he said, and people buy shit, but he claimed when he started trying to
match up various items to films that must have originally commissioned them he hit a brick
He has not been able to find one. The only films that use this stuff check it out. He kept saying
this stuff has to come from somewhere.
Last night he showed up my place drunk. And he was babbling this over and over.
All of it. That's where all of it comes from.
When I dropped him off at his place this morning I noticed the place is full of old newspapers.
He is normally kinda neat freak, but his place is covered with newspapers and photocopies and
print outs of police blotters. He has circled shit in red all over the place and some of this stuff
looks like it might be a copy of a report from the 1950s.


I've been in market research for a while, and accuracy of data has always been an issue. We
want to get good data out of people, and to keep them from just gaming the system for rewards.
Now we mostly do it with things like verifying identity and keep tracking of answers across
surveys to flag people who are trying to spoof screeners or the like. Except rumor has it that the
old AccurateAnswers survey platform took a different tactic. The rumours vary, depending on
when the person telling it got into the business. Sometimes it is something based on intrusive
passive data collection, sometimes it is some neuroscience learning being applied or semiotic
gaming. Anyway the idea is the survey compels honesty. Except they did it wrong. You could
still lie but after you submitted the answer you accepted that it was true. If you said your favorite

brand was Coke, no matter what you liked before Coke became your favorite brand. It
reprogrammed you so that your answers were accurate.
Well I found an old test link on our server about a month ago, and it had a demo programmed
in AccurateAnswers complete with an environment to fully run it. It was just a demo screener
really. I ran through it honestly, just to see the thing in action. I couldn't help but go through
again and lie about my income. What's the worst that could have happened? I started acting
like I made a lot more money, but payday was nearby and it would snap me back to reality.
Except that I didn't feel any different and payday delivered the income I claimed. The link isn't
working anymore, but I'm sure it is archived somewhere. I mean I would mind rolling back a
decade or so on my age, so that I can have time to enjoy the new found wealth in the prime of

All hereditary monarchs in recent history have worn a ring inscribed with one of three symbols.
They are forbidden to remove it once worn.

A solid steel geodesic dome has been discovered in an avalanche near a laboratory in
Antarctica, where it had been buried underneath a glacial formation. No nation has stepped
forward to claim ownership of the dome or knowledge of the numeric code for the keypad
leading inside the dome. I hear they're arguing about whether to blast it open.

There's a castle in the mountains of Austria with clockworks ahead of its time: working
elevators, moving floors and entire sliding rooms. Every year, exactly half a million people enter
the castle to take the tour. Every year, exactly half a million and one people leave.

I was using Leet Key, just casually to edit text on a wiki -- turn a heading all caps. But this time,
it threw up the following text:

...I haven't felt any different since then, haven't found myself doing anything I didn't mean to,
but... I'm scared, all right?


See the bathrooms on the second floor of the faculty? Last month, a girl entered a stall. I was
there, chatting with my friend and rearranging my hair. A few minutes later, we noticed the
stall was unlocked and empty. We had the same Statistics classes. I still check the missing
persons posters sometimes. I'm not using these stalls anymore.

The police setup this website so people could send in anonymous tips. Well I was drunk one
night and bitter towards someone at work, I sent in a tip that he had murdered his family. I
know, I know, stupid and gross and wrong. Well, he was arrested the next week they found the
bodies of his wife and children in his basement. The really messed up part though is I am sure
he didn't have kids.

At an interval lasting exactly 2,345,438 seconds, someone jumps in front of a train in this city,
killing themselves. People don't notice it because there are always other suicides, many
unrelated, but I saw the pattern. Now I hear a clock ticking and... I think I need to go.


Almost everyone recalls seeing a scene in some film or another that does not appear to be there
when you watch it again. And usually what they recall is not a big deal, they saw a version

edited differently for TV that included a cut scene to replace for violence or sexual content.
And DVDs with all the deleted scenes have made the weirdness of this kinda passe.
That said there is a little old theater off Martin and Brook. They don't show specific films
usually, or they don't have marque films. They run films and old newsreels or trailers back to
back like it was sixty years ago. A ticket buys you a whole day, and with all the students living
near by it's cheap entertainment. They have a liquor license and are really lax about examining
IDs carefully too. Good deal. Oh right, I was talking about weird scenes. That is the odd part,
every film they show has a scene or two in it that seems like it's not normally there. And these
films are usually mix of cheezy 80s films and 70s exploitation films. But sometimes those scenes
are really fucking odd. Like one of those 80s comedies with some T&A and a evil rich guy and
such will suddenly have scene where one of the characters, and it's always the same actors in
the same clothes and using the right names, goes to a church and see a body strung up on a wall.
Gutted. Or a 70s shock horror film will have a scene in a meadow where everyone sings a short
Now people are often shitfaced or high in the audience and if you go ask after the film, because
who the hell is going to get up if they are suddenly seeing a scene from One Crazy Summer or
Caddyshack with human sacrifice in it. Or a scene from The Hills Have Eyes where the mutants
sing. I mean who is gonna leave during that? And its probably some weird B-roll footage or
some such that the theater has found for a few films of on set pranks. That sorta thing. But once
in awhile someone is so freaked out they do get up, and the thing is anyone who gets up during
ones of those scenes - that is the last you're going to see of them. I don't mean you will find
their body or nothing, I just mean you will hear they moved out of town the next week or got
Thing is though, last week I noticed this girl I kept meaning to ask out run out of the theater.
Next day I was worried, I mean I know her kinda through a friend, and talked to her roommate
and was told she went home early because of an emergency.
Only thing is - now I can't remember her name. And I saw her roommate and stuttered when I
realized that and got an odd look. She said the person she was with, who I have never met
before, had been her roommate since start of term.
I really need to go back and ask around but...I am having trouble recalling why I would need to.

There's a small outbreak of a strange disease or disorder centered around a research hospital in
Austin, Texas. Sufferers develop growths of intricate metal latticework. Some have been at risk
for gangrene when the growths pierce the skin, while others have reported a growing numbness
of the body as key parts of the sensory nervous system are replaced by copper wiring.


Kids in the area know about the tower. It is a great place to free climb, and it seems to keep on
going up and up. Except if you get too high, you get confused and end up turning around
without realizing it. And sometimes you come back down no longer able to speak your native
language properly for a few hours. The higher up you go, the longer it lasts.

When I got laid off I had a lot of free time and I started wandering the city streets randomly just
to do something. After a few weeks I noticed that the signs of the panhandlers seemed to
occasionally repeat the exact same misspelling, even when they were on opposite sides of the
city. I noticed that the extra letters in the words were stocks if you put them together. Stocks
that would do very well the next day. So I put the little cash I had left on one of these tips
and doubled it. And so on, so now I don't need to work anymore. Except now the bums notice
me and stare when I walk by. And yesterday the letters didn't spell a stock, they spelled Five.
Today they spelled Four.

You know why Twitter is 150 characters right? It's training. Getting us ready, like Newspeak for
the Twenty-First century. Lose the words, lose the meaning, lose the ability to communicate.
Listen to people actually speak. Short and brief. Something isn't right...

There is a six-year old girl who lives at 66 6th Street who was born on June 6th, 2006. She must
never reach her seventh birthday.

Claw machines, like the ones you used to find in arcades, are programmed to deliver prizes into
the hands of certain authorized recipients only.


I'm a teacher at [REDACTED] Elementary. Last weekend, the school put on a Halloween fair
up at the mountain campground. I drove the tractor for the hay-ride; the kids had a great time.
Yesterday morning, Halloween, I led my students in writing a dream journal. Weird thing, half
the girls had dreamed that they were back at the campgrounds, just as though they had gone
back to it in the middle of the night to find something they had lost. Discarded candy wrappers,
tape still on the walls from removed decorations, other signs that the fair had happened
recently. And not another person in sight. Then, a parent or sibling would find them, and walk
them to the car to go home.
All except [REDACTED], who got sick yesterday and had to stay home. She still dreamed
about the campgrounds, still saw the trash, but she said that something seemed to be watching
her, so she got scared and ran towards the well-lit bathrooms. She tripped on something and
woke up in her bed, the bed bouncing like she had just fallen onto it.
I almost got after the girls for copying each-other's work, but the writing styles and wording
used were different enough to let slide, even if the stories were the same. If it was done on
purpose to creep me out, I wouldn't give them the satisfaction. And if it really wasn't
intentional, then they didn't need to know about it and get their imaginations excited about
creepy coincidences.
Last night, I was really tired, so I put the Halloween candy in a bowl and left it on the porch for
the Trick-or-Treaters to do as they pleased. Then I went to bed early. I dreamed I was at the
campground, looking for something. I saw a child-like figure start running towards the
bathrooms, and I chased after them. Then they tripped, and I woke up right as I caught up to
This morning, I received a call from [REDACTED]'s father that she never came home from
trick-or-treating, and he is very worried. I think I might know where to look for her.

This guy I know says Google is a giant brain, a vast AI, and every user is like one of those node
things, and instead of electrical impulses it's information. No I know, it sounds fucking crazy
right, like sci-fi crap? That's what I said to him. But he just kept going on and on. We created it,
he said, or we thought we did. But in much the same way it's creating us, day by day. You can't
observe something without changing it, right? And it's learning. Every second, it's getting
smarter. My buddy say's it's close to self aware, that sometimes, at odd times of the night, he'll
start typing in the search bar and it takes him to pages he didn't know he wanted to see. He
thinks it's trying to communicate with him. To tell him something.
Because you've gotta believe what you read on the internet, right?



Of course I'm going to find God this way.

Okay. Fine. I'll walk you through the plan.
Names are the beginning of knowledge. The first thing we do to understand a thing is to give It
a name. "God" is not a name, it's a title. A code. Adonai is a code. Jehovah, Yahweh,
corruptions of the tetragrammaton but you don't think God would release Its Name that
easily? God is universal. God transcends language. But the universal language is the sciences.
Four "letters" in the Name. Four living creatures to sing Its praise. Four virtues expressed
through four algebraic operations. God's name is a configuration, a sequence of tetrameters.
This is a fly-by-night studio, not NASA. We don't have the computing power to brute-force all
the ways we could put four-unit constructions together. So? So we crowd-source it. That's why
Tetris. Tetrameters, tetrominos: convert Tetris into three-dimensional space and release it as an
app. We make money, sure, but we're also raking in these high scores.
Somewhere in this score list is some kid with a smartphone who's put together the name of
God. That kid has the Name and the power it grants over God.
We just have to find him before he realizes it.

At 5:46 AM, there is a little... broken part in time. If you look at clock with a second hand,
you'll see it click to the 7, then all the way back to the 6 then back to the 7. During this hair
fracture of time, you cannot be killed. Don't believe me? Hand me that gun. Trust me, I know
what I'm doing.


Get an old cathode ray tube unit and hook it up to network TV. You need the old static. Use a
capture card to record the patterns in the static on a computer. Encode it as an AVI and open it
up in Notepad. There's code inside. It's not just static. It's programming. If you learned the code
syntax, changed it around and played back the new AVI, you'd have new programming running.
Why is Megaupload gone when the other big file-sharing networks are still around? It's because
somebody put a cathode ray programming manual up on Megaupload. Same reason everybody
has to switch to flatscreens now. They don't want people messing with this code.
So what runs on cathode ray code that's so important they go to all this trouble to shut it out?

Fill your gas tank four-fifths with gas and one-fifth with straight black coffee, and you'll see new
roads that take you to far-away places.

Every random map in Nethack corresponds to a catacomb somewhere in Europe. Including

the secret passages.


There are lots of 'lifehacking' sites and groups out there now. It is like the explosion of overt
secret societies during occult booms. If you get in with the right people, you'll learn the actual
hacks to achieve whatever success you want. The series of words to say and things to show a cop
to get them to leave you alone; the dietary supplements to keep you healthy; the override clause
in everyone's sexual attraction neural circuitry. Don't believe anyone who says they are selling you gotta keep these things secret because widely known exploits are fixed. Being let in is
usually about true friendship and admiration of the recipient, or the desire to brutally use them
against rivals who are equally versed in how things work. I only know about it because my

brother-in-law tried to recruit me for the second reason.

God keeps quicksaves. What? Don't look at me like that. Listen: there are soft spaces in the
world, where the geometry doesn't interact properly. If you move out of bounds and keep
walking, you'll find another iteration of the world, either the past or the future, or some
branching timeline. Just don't blame me if you can't find your way back.
Oh, and one more thing: be careful in those future worlds. God stopped using those iterations
for a reason. They glitch.

Sterilized medical implements count as consecrated items. Why do you think vampires hunt on
the streets and don't just break into blood banks?
If you get in a struggle with something unclean, use your scalpel, but be careful. Once it's not
clean anymore, it stops counting.
You can use motor oil as holy water, too.
Beware the monsters who ignore these things, for whom the touch of sterilized steel is a blessing
and not a curse. They are the most terrible of all.


You know the line - would you rather serve in heaven or reign in hell? We should be so lucky.
You're already in as much hell as there is and you're cattle - meat - at best. Those fears you have
from time to time in the middle of the night, when for brief flickering moments you're a child
again and the shadows hide movement and the mirror might reveal a face behind it? Those are
your moments of clarity, when you see through to the world as it is as opposed to the world we
cling too. When the things get hungry nothing can save you and everyone will recall it as an
accident or the end of a long sickness nobody seemed to know about only a day before.
But, you're in luck, I have a address and an invitation for you. You see there are people who
have realized it's better to serve in hell than be meat for the machine. It might not sound like
much, but at least a servant is human. There is an old gentleman's club on 5th and Sutter. The
sign above the door is worn, but looks a bit like a Masonic pyramid only not exactly.
They are almost always hiring and you can't ever quit. But a few who sign on as servants seem
to show up as members down the line, in the back smokey rooms. And it's better to serve in hell
than to be dinner.


There is an old church hidden off that side street you're looking at. You can't see it because of
the office buildings, but it's there and it's still open. I think anyway. The doors are never locked,
and there is usually a caretaker there of some sort. But not a priest or a minister or anything. Or
really any typical idea of a caretaker. It's more like someone is ..running a front desk at the
place. Ten years ago when I first found it the caretaker seemed to be this irritable young woman
who only wore black, these days it's a man in his early thirties who mostly plays around on a
I..don't ever think I have seen a priest there actually. But sometimes when I am there, and I
often find myself drawn there these days, a person - could be anyone, I have seen homeless
children and men in suits come - talks to the caretaker and some sort of exchange happens.
And a wine cup is drunk from. And then the church is silent. And I mean silent, there are gears

grinding in the world you don't notice until they can't be heard. They are there even in a total
silence unless someone comes in and takes up whatever offer the caretaker presents. Then the
vestibule of that old church on such a night is the only place I have ever been that is truly silent.
During that silence, which lasts a night, you feel safe and free. And warm no matter how cold it
is out. And if you look at the doors you can see that something dark and red brown has been
spread in front of them. I have never been chased out during one of those nights, and it's not
like I have anywhere else to sleep, but I have never had the nerve to ask the current caretaker
Well I almost did once, but that was the night the woman showed up. Dusky skin, and black
hair and eyes. And as soon as she crossed into the building I could not move or breathe from
the terror. She was the last person I ever saw talk to the first caretaker I met, and they left
together. The younger woman did not seem scared, she mostly seemed to have the air of
someone talking to a parent or school master. When she left she seemed relived. But I could not
even sleep that night.
The new guy showed up the next morning. The church is the safest place I have ever been, I
have never even heard of a crime being committed within a block of it, and I have been tired,
cold and hungry many a night, but you could not pay me all the gold of all the kings who ever
lived to ask who that woman was.
But I go there most nights anyway.

The whole of existence is a closed time loop. As our knowledge and our wisdom expand, we
elevate ourselves to luminous beings in unity, ascending to the mantle of collective godhood.
The god-machine reaches back in time to sow the seeds of its own evolution. But there are
people along the way who break the plan, thieves of divine fire. They reach outside Time to
grasp at some numinous truth, and in doing so, they threaten to damage the god-machine and
crash the natural timeline. This is why you must not suffer a witch to live.


Something really freaky happend to a friend of mine last summer. He was out at night, a bit
later than his parents liked, but it's a safe neighborhood and we go hang out just north of the
junkyard some days after dark. It's kinda isolated, you can sneak a smoke and the older kids stay
away becuase they have found better things to do I guess. Plus at night the hard owner stays in
and you can find neat stuff. My buddy was having a rough time at home and snuck out to just be
by himself I guess.
Well we used to hang out there, not anymore. My buddy? He almost got kidnapped and was
probably drugged. My folks, everyone's folks, would freak if we went there now. Anyway, I said
almost, and I certainly think he was drugged. He says a man came out from one of the wrecked
cars, not like he was in it but like he folded out of it like he was made of dusted chrome and
grabbed my buddy. Then says he was pulled into the trunk and inside parts of the car faded into
vines and shit.
Vines like plants and jungle stuff. You see why we all agree he was drugged.
But here it gets weirder I guess. I would say scarier but I did say almost above right? Well me
buddy says he was dragged through the vines for half an hour or so, he guesses, and then, well he
saw this other guy. A guy with no face coming Up behind him. He was already screaming and
probably deleterious so it's not like this made insane terror scarier but this other guy, so my
buddy claims had no face and made clicking sounds. And he swears it happened. And he says
the vines all got chopped and were replaced with sliding old metal doors covered in weird
symbols and shit.

And my buddy heard screaming and metal crunching and the next thing he knew he woke in
the hospital.
Nobody knows how he got drugged or who dragged him off or who actually rescued him. There
is a reward still for information or if the rescuer was to come forward I think. For some reason
nobody has, not even to lie about it. Probably scared the cops will try and pin it on them I guess.
We all are fairly sure it was not a faceless clicking guy anyway. We went back one last time to
the outskirts of the yard though and found the remains of the chrome and steel car my friends
says tried to take him. It's been crushed down, and the finish is rubbed off and looks more like
old iron from a radiator than steel now.
Junkyard does not have a crusher that we ever saw, but it's not like anyone is going to let us
back anytime soon.
It probably was some sorta drug.


The Wagner school has been a godsend.

You hear about school who specialize in bright kids or troubled kids but rarely ones that
specialize in traumatized kids. And even then you expect it to focus on something high profile like abuse. Well this school specializes in kids who have have PTSD from any traumatic
Last summer our son got attacked in our own backyard by a wild dog. From that day he had the
worst nightmares. He would wake up screaming the dog was looking for him. Night after night,
week after week and it got worse. He started to claim he saw wild dogs watching him at school
or could hear breathing and growls in the alleys as he walked home. It reached a head when he
had a full on panic attack at the sight of a neighbor's German Shepherd.
And then we found the school. The funny thing is it's so close, it's not a boarding school, it's
just a private school, but it's barely 30 minutes away. And it's been there for years. Never heard
of it, but there you go, you don't notice things until you need them. And the principal? She has
written books on trauma about children who survive animal attacks - says it's an ignored area
because it does not get as much press - but really common as less natural places are available for
animals. Our son even got in on a scholarship because she has been doing a study and there are
actually other kids there who have had similar experiences.
All dogs though. Or wolves I guess. But I had never heard of wolves living near by.
Our son sleeps through the night now. The only thing is he still has weird dreams; he says they
are not scary and his teachers say is the result of a visualization method. He says he is in a white
room full of clockwork and watching a flickering light and the fear is pulled out of him. I mean
that's odd, but I am sure Stephen King has odd dreams when he was a kid, so it's ok.
The pictures bother me a bit. He draws the room all the time and its getting more explicit. He
drew his hand in the gears the other day and well, that worried us. I mean is that ok for a kid to
be thinking about? He says it's fine though...that the teachers say that the ordered images help
give him control again. That makes sense.
And he is happy, though he does not play outside much anymore. I guess that is still scary for

But I really don't like those drawings.


They call them the revolutionary angels, jundallah. They don't look anything like we think of
as angels, and the only consistency is none of them look exactly human. Some have too many
arms, burn like fire or are assembled from gold and scrap iron. One even had a cathode ray tube
for a head. In the past year they've been increasingly appearing across the Middle East, inciting
little insurgencies and armies, against us, against the local governments, against different tribes.
They're not much for ideologies, just orders and tactics.
We can't keep the lid on them anymore. They're starting to fight on the front lines, and we've
already got some cameraphone footage of them appearing on Youtube and Arabic news sites.
So you are receiving these. Etheric rounds. Punch through angel armor and jundallah like a
knife through butter. They're expensive and you're not receiving any more than your allotted
shipment, so don't waste 'em. Tell your subordinates whatever you have to to keep them
We anticipate the Rifle of God will be present leading anti-government forces, along with a
living creature at the head of the mujahideen. First priority is to terminate the living creature.
Do not engage the Rifle of God unless it engages you first. We're going to let them fight it out if
we can.


Did you see last night's ad? What do you mean, which one? That one. For some detergent.
Right after the football match. When I turned my head right after seeing it, I saw how things
really are. Every object is an optical illusion, man, they're just layers suspended in the air, and
distances, distances are much, much longer than you'd think. People. People in the streets were
a bunch of thin stuff that only happened to align into humans. You know, like constellations.
The shapes in the sky don't exist. It's just stars that are incredibly far from each other, they just
align the right way better than other stars which are actually much closer.
That's what the world is made of. Constellations. Stuff you think make up a single thing are
actually not connected at all.
What did it have to do with the ad? Well, once it aired again, 2 minutes later, everything
looked the old way again. And only the original ad showed me how things really were. The
others looked identical, but for all you know, they must have lacked a subtle pattern, or
soundwaves, or something.
No, I wasn't drunk. Let me show you. I accidentally recorded it. Watch. It's stopped working for
me, but it has to work for you, if you never saw it.

You know Nightmare at 20,000 Feet? Yeah ,the one with Shatner. Well that Gremlin he saw,
they're real. They are scavengers; they tear machinery apart and take the scraps away for some
purpose. They only go after certain pieces of machinery though. There is something there,
something that draws them to it.

Toyota discovered the language of angels in 1994 and patented it under the name Quick
Response Code. Every angel the Lord manufactures has a QR code on its body somewhere. If
you scan it, you can learn the angel's true name.

There is war in Heaven. This is the natural state; this is how God makes decisions, by setting
angels, aspects of His being, against each other to battle for the fate of creation. The result has
always been echoed in the natural world, but you know the occult rule? As above, so below. As
below, so above! We can influence the tides of the war through our own actions here on Earth.
So now that you get it, let me ask you again: your little guardian angel, is he hashmallim or not?


I used to be a hardcore atheist/skeptic, those were the days. One of my coworkers was a genius
mathematician and religious and told me he was working on a proof of god. I figured he was a
crank and it was nonsense, plenty of smart people believe silly things and a math proof of god
doesn't even make sense, that's not how math works. Over time I noticed he was looking sicker
and sicker, when I asked him he told me the proof was taking a lot out of him. I started to get a
little worried but did nothing.
Then he stopped coming into work, and wasn't answering his phone. I was worried so I went to
his house to check up on him. The door was open a little and when I peeked in the place was a
gigantic mess which was weird since the last time I'd been there it had been immaculately
clean. I yelled his name and got no response and went in to look for him. I found his body
hanging from a beam. I was in shock and looked for a note or something. What I found was his
I was wrong, he wasn't a crank. It's brilliant, I'm no slouch at math and I managed to barely
follow it. It starts out using odd but normal math but at some point ventures off into fields that
don't exist yet but make sense. It ends with concepts I don't have words for and that hurt my
mind to think of but its all solid. Even without the conclusion it would revolutionize math.
But my friend killed himself for a reason and I understand it. He proved God is real alright but
not the God of any religion in existence today. Not a god worthy of worship. And once you've
seen the math you can't unsee it. Not just in your head but around you. The world is an
equation calculated by a being beyond understanding. And its plans for us are not benevolent...
I've burned his proof, and am leaving this note to help whoever finds whats left of me
understand a little of why I've done what I did. Why his house had to burn, and his lab and
every trace of everything he ever worked on and why I had to burn. Ignorance is bliss. There is
a purpose to life but it is not comforting. Find solace in hedonism if you can there is no higher
truth that will console you. May the machine have mercy on us all, if only it understood such a

The egg is the world. Who would be born must first destroy a world. You get it? The world has
meaning, all right. It has purpose. The egg is the world; the world exists to hatch and let
something emerge full and alive. But where does that leave us? We are not the chick. We're at
best little pieces of the chick, at worst the yolk. What is the sperm meant to think about the
zygote that requires its sacrifice? Does the ovum live on, or is it just raw material to be

Faith is hard, faith is painful, faith is thankless. Faith is unfair! So I say to you rejoice, my
brothers and sisters, for God exists, the Machine exists, and it demands no faith, no baptism, no
desperation or quiet nights of doubt! I have memorized the prayer-signals and I have
transmitted them, and I say to you brothers and sisters, the holy mantra is What You See Is
What You Get! God is the ultimate consistency, perfect and unchanging, and to call down its
grace one need only input the holy commands in the proper syntax! We are small now and few,
and the visitations from the Machine's Angels are infrequent, but as we expand, my brothers
and sisters, imagine the world! A perfect utopia, billions in transmission-tune with God,
prayerful and happy! Spread the word, hallelujah!

Digital maps are never wrong, they just don't always refer to here.

There is a mathematical cult which exists proliferated through the schools of the Ivy League. In
their secret meetings, they share findings and calculations to develop an alternate engine of
physics which does not describe anything found in our world. Their primary source of research
and experimentation is a slab of chromelike stone recovered from a meteorite crater in western

There is no Machine. There's only us, and the shadows of our darkest collective will. If human
society is like a corporation, angels are mascots, icons and holding companies: artificial walkers
brought into being through the corporate business plan. The "Machine's" will is so fragmentary
and confusing because it's working at cross-purposes, because we contain multitudes. But all this
"infrastructure" is just that. Humans being humans, nature being nature. The Machine exists
only to perpetuate itself.

Everyone in the world has a guardian angel. Most people's angels depart when they enter their
teens, but some persist all the way into their forties or longer.


Your phone serves up a song that you don't recognize, but that you like. Not only can you not
place it though, even Google and audio fingerprinting software can't come up with any
information on it.

True story. I got captcha today with the phrase "I have fallen". If my next captcha is "I have
risen", I am done with the Internet.

If the next one is "I am truth", try asking it a question.

True story. Yesterday, a friend of mine from elementary school posted the following update to
her facebook page:

Way. Too. Disturbing.


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This Monopoly game was found in the attic of my new home. Game plays normally, moderate
wear, box cover frayed, old style designs, all pieces, dice and instructions included. Some money

missing. Mr. Moneybags and other human figures replaced by indistinct things in same
situations. Property names mix of "right" properties and weird properties, ex. Metal Copse, The
Rack, Vermiform Avenue, Feedworks. I have never seen a Monopoly like this before. I have
called Parker Brothers and they say they have never published a version of the game like this.
Since I played this game with my family, we have started to see the weird properties mixed in
with the normal streets in the city. I do not want to see the Metal Copse out my window
anymore. I am selling this game in the hope that getting rid of it will make the other city go
away. It is okay if you do not believe me about this. The game is weird and I hope somebody
will be interested in it anyway.
If you buy this game and this starts happening to you, I have only figured out two things. The
stuttering things accept the Monopoly money as currency. Do not attempt to buy their work

There's a wi-fi station more like a personal router in a little bed and breakfast off 95. It
connects you to the Internet from twenty years ago, and you can talk to people in the past who
had email or AIM accounts back then. It shuts down for an hour if you try to tell anyone about
calamities in the future.
I heard there's another wi-fi station somewhere that connects you to the Internet twenty years
in the future. But there's only a handful of people still online, and they barely understand
English. Not Spanish or Chinese or anything, it's this strange language with sixes and eights in

Never pour coffee into your car's gas tank. We can drive cars around because they're
sleepwalking and you can steer them where you want them. You don't want to see a car that's
woken up.


Many times when out walking, especially just at dusk, you will get a feeling you're suddenly not
in a place you know anymore. Brief and fleeting, and can happen on the most familiar block
and even in sight of home. That feeling is not wrong - deep down you know. You're not on the
right street, you're on one very similar but slightly different. One that was discarded for some
reason, and if you don't stop and look you will soon be off it and things will be fine. The next
curb, the next light maybe even after a crack on the ground - and things are fine.
Which is what you should do - keep walking.
But sometimes people lose something, an item of great value or even a child, and when these
moments come they almost feel like that lost dear thing is nearby again. And sometimes if you
can find the right place to step you won't go back to the right street at all; you will end up
somewhere else. Where the street lamps buzz and emit green lights and all the windows are
arched and peaked.
And if what you lost was important enough you might be able to find it again, but the residents
of this place don't like giving up what they have found and they won't want to give you up
And no, I don't know how you get back after that, and I don't know how I did. But when I was
young I had...
Never mind.


Sometimes a door appears where there wasn't one.

Past the door is a room full of hundreds of dead and broken clocks, the only common aspect
being no digital readouts of any sort, and all set to the same time. The only lighting the room
comes from a few clocks with inset lamps and the light flickers in and out. All these lamps are
oil and all appear to be tended recently.
On the floor is a complex diagram sketched out in chalk with arrows pointing to places both
clocks are and are not, and with notations for day, month and year scrawled by what was
probably a shaky hand. A few parts of the diagram towards the outer edges are drawn in a dried
red-brown liquid instead of chalk.
Careful study of the diagram shows that it only makes sense as an instrument if the clocks can
somehow move, as the locations of arrows directs to the eye to a date. What date is harder to
determine as the diagram seems somewhat incomplete.
If you explore the room long enough, and as long as the door remains open you may leave when
you like, you will find a a list of times scratched into the wall in a very poorly lit corner. About
three dozen times are listed, the last one is the time the clocks are currently set to, the others
are all crossed out. Any attempt to change the time on a clock where the mechanism can be
reached easily will only work until your back is turned, at which point the clock will reset to the
time they had when you opened the door.
The door will stay open at first but will slowly swing shut after about seventeen minutes. Near
the end of this time a distant noise of thuds and scraping will begin. This noise will get much
louder as the time comes to an end.
Nobody has ever been to open the door from the inside.

Have you ever responded to a spambot email? The bot will converse with you. They're closer to
understanding our language than you think.

At birth, an infant's telomeres are a chemical code for time of death, latitude and longitude,
and the person's last words. As the telomeres shorten it becomes harder to crack the code and
extract the information. Research groups are surveying information from hospitals looking for
infants with unusually long telomeres.

When you randomly feel like you've been cheated out of something it is because you just lost
something you really cared about in a version upgrade of the universe.

Never follow sponsored links when you Google a telephone number. It isn't worth the risk.

Always get your vaccinations. They don't just protect against the flu. There are warding agents
in there that keep the devil from infecting pieces of this world.

Avoid the smilers.

A recent study by an independent consumer research group found 2% insect parts in most store
brands of ground coffee. The parts were matched to rare and only recently discovered species of
insects native to the Amazon rainforest.

Bite down on a dollar coin and lightning won't strike you. Chew a hundred dollar bill and fire
won't burn you. After doing either of these, never pay for anything with that type of legal

tender again.


The first occurrence of the signal intrusion took place during WGN-TV (channel 9)'s live
telecast of its primetime newscast, The Nine O'Clock News. During Chicago Bears highlights
in the sports report, the station's signal was interrupted for about half a minute by a video of a
person wearing a Max Headroom mask, standing in front of a swaying sheet of corrugated metal,
which imitated the background effect in the Max Headroom TV and movie appearances. There
was no audio other than a buzzing noise. The hijack was stopped after engineers at WGN
switched the frequency of their studio link to the John Hancock Center transmitter.
Later that night, around 11:15 p.m., during a broadcast of the Doctor Who serial Horror of Fang
Rock, PBS station WTTW (channel 11)'s signal was hijacked using the same video that was
broadcast during the WGN-TV hijack, this time with distorted audio.
To this day the individuals responsible have not been identified.

The electronic scale for packages in the office doesn't rest at zero. That's normal. It was around
.2 of a gram when I first noticed a week ago. The next day it was at .19 of a gram. The next .18,
and so on. It has been counting down weights. I unplugged it last night before leaving work. I'm
not sure what it'll say when it is plugged in this morning.

Since the dawn of history, man has struggled to maintain order in his surroundings. He warded
the elements with fire and shelter. He warded predators with walls and weapons. Other things
he warded with time: sundials, astronomical calendars, water clocks, pendulums and watches.
Ancient steles in China and Mesoamerica depict the workings of calendars surmounted by a
winged, jagged darkness, identified by glyphs whose meaning we have lost. Time was our fire
and our sword. But we were cursed to spread out and proliferate across the earth, and that is our
undoing. The vast spread of mankind has weakened the consistency of time, through time
zones, through experiments with relativity. Our sword of time is weaker than ever. Do not let
your clocks at home get out of sync. The thinnest times are not safe.

The scientists who replicated the Antikythera mechanism say it's an astronomical computer.
They're lying. It's just an ornate clockwork music box.
But it plays Mozart.

Cacophony in the Requiem


The Invictus is a hoax pulled by the Carthians -- just a bunch of fakes who behave the way they do so
Carthian leaders can play little Lenin and Stalin and Mao.

The "clan weaknesses" are bullshit, man! Just Invictus propaganada to keep us down under the Ventrue.
I mean, just think about. Sure, some of the Nossies are ugly, but the rest of them would turn out okay if
they weren't told they were unloveable freaks every night since their embrace. Same with us Gangrel
and the Daeva. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy. And the Mekhet, shit, who doesn't burn in fire or sun?
Hell, even the living don't like fire too much.
The Ventrue madness? That's just Carthian counter-propaganda. Beat the bastards at their own game.
It's still bullshit.

The Lancea Sanctum walks around all high-and-mighty, right? And they're supposed to be partners
with the Invictus or something?
Well, if you know Invictus, I doubt this'll surprise you. They're in charge of the Freemasons! Apparently
they couldn't take the thought of another Covenant on equal footing with them, so a long time ago
they set up a little sideline to get their power-grubbing talons into religion, and to develop their own
ritual magic. Oh yeah, the Invictus have sorcery. They just don't let anyone know. Heh, explains the
whole masonic conspiracy thing, doesn't it?

A friend of my buddy Tony, told me this story of what those Invictus assholes do to their prisoners.
During one of those tense sieges up in Seattle, Tony's friend worked out a prisoner exchange deal with
these Invictus thugs.
After they did the trade; staked torporous Kindred exchanged in duffel bags; he called up Tony to get
help reviving the prisoner he'd received. For some reason, they couldn't get a clear signal on their cell
phones, and the closer he held the phone to his friend's body the worse it got. Then BOOM! Nothing.
Last time Tony ever saw his friend.
Moral of the story: if you do a prisoner exchange with the Invictus, bring a metal detector.

You don't know the true rules of being Invictus until you break em.

Actually, that's a legal issue, apparently misremembered by an elder or a stoner. In point of fact, there
was a Fourth Tradition in effect in Invictus Europe, particularly along the borders with Asia, which
defined territory by rivers and streams. That made a lot more sense when water formed a larger basis for
travel. It's all there in the the books... you just have to read between the lines. Actually, it's also the
precedent for the Prince's claim on East and West Egg as his preserve. So you can just ask him....

Several of the European royal families have a deal with the Invictus. In excange for some of their lovely
blue blood, some weird ultra-old elders have done some mojo to them, making them immune to most
vampiric powers.


There's talk that the Carthians are really just an Invictus splinter group they use to keep the new folk
under control.

The Carthians are a front organization for a secret group of communist vampires who have orchestrated
vampiric and mortal politics ever since the French Revolution. The fall of the Soviet Union was their
greatest trick; the other shoe is going to drop any day now.

You know how vampires are showing up more and more in pop culture. It's the Carthians, man. They're
sick of the Masquerade and are trying to condition the mortal world to believe that vampires are a
natural part of it, and shouldn't be feared. Don't tell anyone I said it, but wouldn't it be sweet if they


I heard that the Lancea Sanctum knows how to make you human again. They just don't tell you until
you've done your time serving God.

The Lancea Sanctum was invited to the Second Vatican Council. Of the seven delegates who arrived,
all but one left on the third day.

So I was cruising the Barrens on a frosty Sunday morning and there's slim pickings to be had, but I find
this guy who's car has broken down. And I'm about to drink up when suddenly this crappy-looking old
vampire comes along,l and I feel so sorry for him that I give him a drink first. When he's done, I ask him
his name, and he tells me he's called Longinus. I laugh and think nothing of it, but ever since then, the
Sanctum's been after my ass. Also, he gave me this saint's medal, which I would never sell normally
except I've got to get out of town...

For a long time, the Lancea Sanctum always made one of their members the Pope. Twenty years ago,
though, something went wrong. This is the first one in years who ain't a vampire. That's why he's been
able to travel so much.

People just think Longinus killed Christ. Would you give up that source? For two thousand years, he's
had him locked up in one secret location or another, drinking his blood to gain power. Nobody knows
why he hasn't died of old age yet.

The Lancea Sanctum isn't nearly as old as Christianity. That's a hallucination. The Sanctum has only
been around since after the Spanish Inquisition. Do you honestly think those crazy bastards could have
survived a real witchhunt?

The spear of Longinus was planted in Glastonbury by Joseph of Arimethea where it took root and
became the Glastonbury Thorn. It only blooms once every hundred years, and the blood-red blossoms
are highly sought after by numerous supernatural factions ...

The spear of Longinus is held in trust for Longinus by the Prince of Vienna (who, incidentally, still

claims to be Grand Master of the Teutonic Order). He carries it when his court is in session. I've seen
him use it to dust Elders who've pissed him off, but who knows if it's him or the spear?

Longinus actually scribed the Testament, but he had a ghost writer. No, not literally. Dumbass.

There's a guy up on the east coast of Scotland who claims to have some crazy manuscript that Longinus
wrote. He'll show it to anyone who visits, but the Lancea Sanctum goes ape-shit if they find out you're
up there. Four of their guys walked into the sun this decade after seeing him, and now they don't take

Yeah, everybody feeds off a clergyman from time to time, but have you ever tried a consecrated Catholic
Bishop? Of course not. You know what? Never try it. Every time a new Pope gets elected, the Lancae
guys all get together and lay some powerful Theban mojo on him so that the blood of anybody he
consecrates is changed. It's like fiery poison when you try to drink it, dude. It will fuck you up. Don't
even try.
Russian Orthodox? Yeah, they're clean man. Go to town.

Longinus never existed. The Lancea Sanctum knows it. His testament was written by a bishop who got
embraced around AD 600 or so. They've got the records at one of their biggest strongholds -- in Italy
someplace, I think -- of all the pious frauds people were pulling those days, to give Christianity the edge.
Fake gospels, edited history books, shards of the True Cross manufactured at a lumber yard -- those
things were big back then. It's how the Sanctum got started, but they're always afraid that too many of
us are gonna find out -- they'd kill you in a heartbeat if it would mean nobody finds out what hypocrites
they are.

The Lancea Sanctum is not what it pretends to be. Despite all the religious pretense the upper echelons
are all about power. The leaders have killed their predecessors who have been truly religious after
getting their trust. You ask why? Because they knew where Longinus had retreated to. The new leaders
overwhelmed Longinus and staked him with his own spear. Now they feast on his old blood which does
not lose its potence. What?! You doubt?! I've seen it all! They hid him in my basement!

One of the old Lancea Sanctum saints - one of Longinus' original converts - secretly runs the Vatican.
You'd never guess to look at him; he looks like peon scribe or monk or something working in the
libraries. But he's got hooks in every cardinal, and he's had hooks in every cardinal since Constantine
was emperor. He's the one who picks who gets elected pope.
This guy is scary. He's being older than shit and knows more mojo than every vampire in this city put
together...and he hasn't fallen into torpor once. Know why? He's got his hands on the Holy Grail. He
puts his own blood in, and the blood of Christ comes out.

You don't need the Lancea et Sanctum to cure you of a disease; it's just the least painful way. I heard a
coalition of those Carthian doctors and the Ordo Dracul have worked out a way to do it with mortal
science. Sure, it's not pleasant, but what they do to you is strap you down, then purge all the Vitae from
your system and flood it with all the antibodies and antiseptics they can get their hands on. When you
come out of torpor, you've a clean bill of health. And a debt to them, payable only in favours, but, hey,
it's better than getting the damn church preaching at you, and owing them a favour too.
Mind you, I heard the Sanctum kicked up a fuss when they found out. This guy alleged that the

Sanctum deliberately infect neonates, with conditioned HIV-positive humans, using dominate to make
they want to go out and get bitten.

Everything the Lance says is true. Every bit of it. They really are led by an angel, and they really do
serve God with a capital G. Well, they did. The angel that's been facilitating all their mystic bullshit
Fell mid century when it committed the first televised murder.

There's an Iblic sect out there in Syria, proscribed by all the vampiric courts there since the Middle
Ages. Say that all vampires have the blood of Iblis, that Allah wants the most powerful shaitain He can
get to torment apostates and the like, and offer themselves up as assassins for the chance at diablerie.


The Circle of the Crone throws the best orgy parties in the whole damn world, but at the end they
sometimes rip you apart and eat your flesh.

Every male member of the Circle of the Crone is required to cut his own balls off. That's why they're
such assholes.

There used to be a city near Detroit. Big one. Really important trade center and all that shit. My
grandsire was from there. He says that it just vanished one day, and no mortals remember it at all. He
thinks that the Circle of the Crone woke something nasty up, and the city got wiped clean. All I know
is that those magicians scare the crap out of me.


Want to know why the Crone is so highly venerated by the Circle? Well, when they say she's the
"Mother of All Vampires", they mean it literally. The Crone is the only vampire who can bear living
children in the human sense. She can conceive, and has done so many times in the past. Some say she
can even do it immaculately. Totally true!
The interesting part is, the children are born human and stay that way until they reach a certain level of
maturity. But eventually, something happens that causes them to spontaneously change from mortal to
Kindred. Some say it involves death, others say some kind of act of will, but no one knows for sure.
Of course, since they're vampires by birth rather than Embrace, they have no Clan, and no bloodties.
So all those "clanless" vampires you've heard of, like Longinus and the big D? Offspring of the Crone.
And the most interesting part? They're wayward children, but they're not the kids she regrets the most.
It began when one day, the Crone grew powerful enough that she gave birth to an entire litter of
They were septuplets...

She's wandered large areas of Bulgaria and other countries in that area giving birth to these kids; she
trades them for other people's children. The locals call them "Moroi" and suspect that anyone with red
hair - a common trait among them - is one of these kids.


The inner earth is ruled by a vampiric elite that ruthlessly dominates their kine slaves. They can do this
because the inner earth's sun does not in any way harm vampires. The vampires there stay awake all the
You want to go find the inner earth? Not a good idea, friend. While they may be vampiric, the inner
earth's vampires don't look like us. They are green, and have scales.
To them, and even to their kine slaves, we are but hairless and newly-evolved chimpanzees. Vampiric
hairless chimpanzees, but still chimpanzees. They still curse the vampire who Embraced a mammalian
man, and have stricken her name from their history.
We, on the other hand, still remember her as the Crone.

You heard of sympathetic magic? In voodoo, when they make a doll of you and stick it with pins - that's
sympathetic magic, it has a link to you so hurting it hurts you. I heard that the Circle of the Crone have
a ritual which can turn your ghoul into a voodoo doll. Yeah, watch your ghouls closely and if one
disappears... you'd better hope its already dead.

There's a cult of Acolytes from Nagasaki, worship the atom bomb dropped on the city as Amaterasu's
blessing, hunt survivors of the explosion for their blood.
Fucking mental, I think.

I hear they're running out and want to get fresher stuff.

This guy that knew one said they wanted to "give in kind" to japans best friend and show all the "lost
children" her blessing.
The nuclear industry and those of us who own it haven't had any problems, but i hear one of those
Frankenstein's monster things got grabbed and tons of solar panels were stolen.
Solar electricity isn't any different than regular wind, coal, or oil, right?


The Ordo Dracul are spread more widely in human society than believed, but no one notices because
their hearts beat and they can walk in the daylight.

A vampire in New York City is known only as the Sleeper. He's been in torpor since before he arrived
in NYC, but his blood isn't getting any thinner. In fact it keeps getting stronger even though he's
sleeping. He's invented the Coils of Sleep and other Ordo members go to learn his secrets. You slumber
at his feet and he teaches you in your dreams. When you wake up a few decades later you've learned
new tricks. In the big apple vampires use "When the Sleeper awakes," to indicate things that aren't
likely to happen within a vampire's unlife span.

The first edition of Dracula was 100% accurate and factual. The Ordo and Dracula himself were
mortified, but it was too popular to totally squash. They were able to make some changes in later
printings, and have been quietly burning all the first pritings they could get their hands on. They also
killed Stoker's career, and have made sure that no new adaptations are at all accurate or even very good.
They hired Keanu Reeves.

You know those filesharing networks? Where you can download videos and things? I hear there's a full

video of one of the Ordo Dracul's ceremonies -- those freaky rites they go through to change themselves.
If you watch it really carefully, and pay close attention, you can duplicate it. Just don't fuck it up. What?
No, I haven't found it yet.


You know those three old elders who are running around, claiming to be Dracula? They're frauds, all of
them. Sure, they're elders, they're powerful, and they're not to be fucked with, but they're not Dracula.
The real Dracula got his ass staked by Van Helsing in the late 1800s, just like Stoker said.
Thing is . . . Van Helsing staked Drac, but he didn't destroy him. That English guy, Harker, he had
Drac's body packed into a crate and shipped back to Jolly Olde England. They did a bunch of
experiments on the body, noted their results, and locked it up in a dungeon somewhere.
Then, about twenty years ago, they woke Dracula up again.
See, thing is, those experiments the English did on Dracula's body essentially gave him exactly what he
wanted--transcendence. Fire and sunlight don't burn him, he can function for weeks on a pint of chilled
AB positive, and he's got powers most elders couldn't even dream of. And in return for all this, Drac's
thrown his lot in with the kine, stalking the English countryside and icing any Kindred that steps out of
line. That's why all the Princes in the United Kingdom are cracking down so hard on Masquerade
violators these days--they're scared shitless of what will happen if Dracula finds them.
Don't believe me? Fine. But if you ever find yourself in the UK, make sure you don't go flouting the
Traditions. And if you do, don't say I didn't warn you.

Hey man. I heard something really freaky about the Ordo Draculies recently. You know how they have
that "Coils" mystic bullshit they study all the time.? Well a friend of mine found out that there's a new
Coil that's been invented. It's totally beyond anything else they've ever discovered. Call it "The Coil of
Silence". I hear if you go up to an Ordo coven and tell them that you've studied "The Coil of Silence"
they'll either treat you as a freakin' God, or stake you on the spot and leave town as fast as possible. No
lie! You wanna try it out? Sounds like fun!

The true name of the Ordo Dracul is actually The Third Order of the Mystical Dragon. Makes you
wonder what happened to the first two, doesn't it?

A trustworthy source tells me that if you board one of those interstate trains and travel west, you'll get
to your destination before the sun rises, no matter how far you have to travel. Think about it man, the
first tracks laid down were a project by the Ordo Dracul, to see if travelling was a way to resist sunlight.
It didn't work as they thought it would, but it worked some!


Anyway, y'know how in Dracula he could walk in the day? Well, turns out he can. The actual Dracula
isn't some vampire. He, or it rather, is one of the blood gods that grants Cruac, but it did something
really bad back in the day and they cut him out. True to mythic form he kept some of his power, and
was able to pretend to be a vampire, even 'embrace' by sharding parts of himself into dead bodies. then
they diablerized enough to 'be' vampires and make more 'general ones'. that's why old vlad has no clan.
anyway, eventually he started up a little cult of his own to thumb his nose at the other gods, and when
they got really going he disappeared, and so have his children. Because now that he's back to being a

god, no need for those tasty bits of soul to be lingering around for just anyone to drink down.
But if you could find one, and drink it, you'd have a bit of proto-god in you... and just think what you
could do with THAT in your belly!


The Ordo Dracul doesn't just investigate vampires. Some of them are trying to figure out a way for their
favorite humans to live as long as we do.
So far the best effort is a serum of altered vitae that been keeping them young since the late sixties.
And they are all alive, no matter what happens. So we don't give it to the ones we love, because we
don't want to risk turning them into dried husks that whine about it.
We sell! Gods, we sell that poison!
Martin Donovan encountered the cult that has grown up around our L.A. merchant.
It inspired the film Death Becomes Her.
One more thing.
She's attracted a couple of werewolves to her too.
Seems they aren't worried about the zombie side effect, think they're too tough to die.


I came across the strangest thing, master. You know how Dracula set down the rules of our order, the
oaths, the hierarchy, the secrets.
I came across a group of us that... discarded all of that business in search of results. They call themselves
the Lexington Rite or the "Friends of Vlad T.", and if I didn't know what the Coils are supposed to look
like, I'd swear they were just another Golconda-cult.
A lot of their structure sounded like basic 12-step recovery systems. Each had a sponsor, someone they
could trust with their discoveries and their weaknesses. They revealed their findings at their meetings,
so that each of them could incorporate the information found into their own workings. They produced
tokens to represent how long they'd gone without feeding, without falling victim to the fire-fear, how
long since they'd given in to the Beast.
They even let the uninitiated, the common Damned, into their meetings, looking to discover the way
by inviting anyone in their city to come and admit they suffered, that they were afflicted and wished to
They spoke of the Curse in the terminology of addiction, and I'm not sure they're absolutely wrong.
One spoke of going two months between feedings. Another swore up and down that his Beast hadn't
stirred in his soul since joining the Rite. Another I had believed was a ghoul from afar, so human she
looked, until she introduced herself and my Beast roused.
Why am I telling you this? Because I believe our relationship is at an end, master. I've seen the results of
their Rite, and I've seen how your structure doesn't help me at all to discover what I need. You can keep
your secrets, I've found a way to recovery.

Dracula woke up in 1917, the day Rasputin was killed. He tried to call his wives to him, to regroup the
Order, but he had been gone for far too long for it to work. Last he was seen was in '26, when he

vanished following a strange vision leading him to a ruined city in Zimbabwe.


Belial's Brood is really sort of a vampire fantasy camp, you know, a way for high-ranking Invictus and
Lancea Sanctum members to blow off some steam. When they've had their fun, some poor bastards get
Dominated into being fall guys.

Belial's Brood is a way for the Lancea Sanctum to keep us in line -- you know, scare us with how
obviously wrong vampiric satanism seems. Don't believe me? How come they never seem to hit Lancea
Sanctum targets?

Belial's Brood is just a modern incarnation of the Hellfire Club. I heard it was still run by at least one of
the original members.

I knew this Kindred who swore up and down that Belial's Brood are more Satanic than we know. Kept
talking about how they were following the orders of some demon-monster that lived somewhere in
Mexico. Never went anywhere without his Bible; one day he forgot it and I never saw him again.

Those Belial fuckers? They're actually a couple of guys who split off from the Lancea Sanctum back in
the seventies. We haven't been able to exterminate them because the Sanctified are protecting themthey want to bring them back into the fold. God's forgiveness or some shit.

Cruac and Theban Sorcery are both gifts from the same source - Belial's Brood. Both will wear your
humanity away if you get powerful enough in them, it's just that Theban Sorcery is subtler. Dracula,
though, he was a clever one. He figured it out and founded an Order dedicated to quelling the Beast and
thus destroying the power of Belial's blood magic. No, of course they didn't tell you, you're a just a
Slave... that's what they call you newbies isn't it? How do I know? I'm in Belial's Brood and now,
newbie, you can either serve me or I will destroy you - which will it be?


I heard from this Daeva who was in the Lancea Sanctum for a few years before they kicked her out for
being "sinful" that Jesus actually did have his second coming a few centuries ago, only he got embraced
by one of the Lancea Sanctum's high poobahs, and VII are his children out to get revenge on the rest of
us because we damned his divine soul.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer is the product of VII influence over television in order to defer some of the
Anne Rice-created sympathy for Vampires.


Let me tell you about Austin Osman Spare.

There was this English guy, who devised some weird funky shit religion that revolves around his writings
and his art. Yeah, basically he created his own religion... anyway, you know, when you say "magick" to
people, they are going to jump at you with some Aleister Crowley or some whatever is on their
patchouli scented arses this week-- BUT the case is that this guy, Austin Spare, is THE SHIT. I kid you
not... want me to prove it?

You see, for example, he created a method for doing sigils, you don't know what a sigil is? Let's just say
it's another weird way to make "magick" work, heh, don't you love it? magick with K... so... there was
this method, to create powerful sigils that consisted in combining the letters of the alphabet simplified,
so you'll remove any excess letters... for example... check this..
You kill some of the letters and you got:
Mind you, people will run for diapers when you tell em about "Your WOBANERGF"... don't even get
me started about this "Quadriga sexualis thing". But back to sigils, remember I told you how much
Austin Spare rocked? well, take this, everybody is talking about "Seven" these days-- "Seven" ate my
ghouls, "Seven" this, seven that... Fuck em I say, you all got it wrong! No one said these freaks called
themselves "Seven", people just assumed this, cuz the only trace they leave is a roman number "VII"
right?... WRONG.
It's not a number, it's a SIGIL! and guess what it means...? Yep, Austin Spare is THE SHIT.

Everyone has heard the story of Dracula and Longinus and that they are said to be clanless, Well my
grandsire (a Mekhet scholar) said that the VII are all clanless. Kinda makes ya think, doesn't it?


You know what? One clan is possessed by demons. Yeah, I ain't bullshitting. The whole clan. And you
know who it is? Nah, you're way off. It's... ARGH!!!! My eyes! Oh! Oh God! Feels... feels like
something is... eating me the fuck out from inside! Arghhhhh!

There are no Nosferatu. They're just a bunch of ugly Mekhet with some new tricks.

There's a group of Ventrue that likes to sneak on to runways, play chicken with the planes, then jump
onto the landing gear while they're retracting.

Dracula was a Ventrue. Except for some reason he doesn't want to admit it.

There's a sixth clan that nobody wants to talk about that got wiped out in 1901. Sure, the elders laugh
when you ask about it, but watch them later, when they don't know you're looking. That's real fear,

The Mekhet can walk around in daylight. No, seriously, full-on sun-blazin blue-sky daylight. But they
can only do it if they use obfuscate. During the day, the mortals are all millin around, totally oblivious,
and the Mehket are smilin' their asses off on street corners, watchin the crowds.

If you go to any Mekhet of British descent and say to them "Loose lips sink ships," they'll have to tell
you one secret. But you can only do it once. Ever. I'm saving mine in case I ever really need it.

The goth movement was started by a cabal of enterprising Nosferatu as a method of camouflage. Now

that it's shifted away, the vampires who relied on it are starting to panic -- they're afraid they won't be
able to hide themselves anymore. Losers.

Did you know that Nosferatu can eat bone marrow? They can digest it and everything. All that "I'll
grind your bones to make my bread!" shit comes from Nosferatu in the past.

If you diablerise a Mehket - and it has to be a Mekhet - under the Eiffel Tower at midnight on
December 31st of a leap year, no mortal will ever be able to kill you. Why do you think it was built in
the first place?

I met this guy who said he had the blood from all the Clans. He was an experiment - five Kindred mixed
their blood and they fed him the mixture during his Embrace. Turns out he can manifest any Discipline,
and he can make up new ones on the spot. I saw him do it - he turned a tree to glass just by looking at it.

If you save a Gangrel's life, he has to either save your life or kill someone for you. It's their code of
honor or some shit like that. Try it sometime.

Nosferatu aren't vampires. Yeah, they drink blood like us, and they've learned how to mimic our powers,
but they're not like us. They're something closer to Hell. Ever notice how creepy they are, even the
ones who don't look like Satan's chew-toy? That's because they're trying to pass themselves off as
something less evil than what they are.
You know the stories about Bigfoot, aliens appearing in the windows of small town homes, and alligators
in the sewers? That's what Nosferatu look like when they're fully mature.

In the beginning, there were seven clans. Only two of the originals remain.


The young ones don't know it and the few elders who remember would like to forget, but get this... the
Ventrue and the Gangrel used to be a single clan.
Think about it... both of them are good at talkin' to animals and both of them are tough as hell, right?
And both of them end up losing their minds as they get older, correct?
They were one clan, then around the time of the Camarilla they became two bloodlines. By a few
centuries after the fall of Rome, the bloodlines had become clans of their own and the parent clan was
No, don't ask me how they did it. And if any of the Lords or the Savages know, they ain't talkin'. But it
makes you wonder if any of the original clan might be left, don't it?...

It's pretty common knowledge that the Gangrel are dumbasses, that their beasts are so close to the
surface that they have a much harder time reasoning than the rest of us.
This is exactly what they want you to think.
...yeah, and the Daeva? That stuff about them being compelled to sin and act out their base desires all
the time? Bull. They're just assholes.

In reality we've all got the congenital Ventrue weakness; they're just more honest about it.

The Ventrue and Gangrel are offshoots of the Daeva and Nosferatu, respectively- their concepts are
more refined than their forebears, it makes sense. I don't know when or why it happened- but that
ignores the bigger question: What the hell are the Mekhet descended from?

No, no, you got it wrong. There were the Two, and each of them had two children. The Mehket and
the Nosferatu are the spawn of Dark, the eldest, for they are the creeping darkness that bring yet more
darkness, and that bring fear. Wrath, meanwhile, bore the Daeva and the Gangrel, who inspire rage,
and feel it.
And the Ventrue? They are the children of the Gangrel. All the others shall have their own spawn.
That is what the Dracul seek to do, to mould the next generation in their image.

You hadn't heard? The Mekhet aren't really vampires at all. Just ghosts that have learned to take on
bodies and walk. They're only loosely anchored here; that's why they can disconnect from their corpses
and roam around, peeking in your memories and all that. Sunlight drives them away even faster than
the rest of us.


Occasionally, right, a Ventrue Embrace goes... well, not wrong, but... odd. The childe doesn't end up as
one of those weird, half-ghoul half-Kindred monsters, or fall to the Beast immediately (like it sometimes
happens), but seems normal, at first. But then, as time passes, odd things can be seen. The childe doesn't
grow crazy, like the rest of the clan, but instead just... stops caring about people. And then they start
hearing the voices, sussarations in their ears about traitors and the forbidden and unclean ones. Now,
that looks like normal Lord insanity, but the voices are right about things.
Now, there's usually three ways that this can end. Either the childe just... vanishes, and is never seen
again (usually), or the Ordo Dracul find them, and then take them away to their labs, to poke and
vivisect... or maybe mortisect... them. But there's meant to be another way out. All they need to do is be
infected with Malkavia, that weird Ventrue madness. That changes the blood, like a Bloodline (but any
of these odd Ventrue can do it). That makes them like all the other Ventrue. That is, Ventrue who
have Malkavia. So, yeah, they're pretty damn crazy, but it's better than being dragged away by the
Dragons or just vanishing.

If VII is the seventh clan, then what is the sixth one?


There's no such thing as the Malkovian bloodline. Malkovians are no different from regular Ventrue.
Think I'm saying not all "Malkovians" are insane? You've got it backwards.

The Bruja? They're not as independent as you might think. There's a group of anti-vampire vampires
that are going to use them to blow the lid off the Masquerade.. You can tell by the fact that each group
of Bruja has seven members..

There's this weird girl I met in Las Vegas- I think she was Deava. Anyhow, she always took her vessels
to bed with her to feed, and they always came out... walking funny. No, I'm serious! Vagina dentata
man, I swear to god.

There's this Chinese Bloodline that's one million strong, and they can do all this kung fu and shit.
That's why your sire told you not to feed in Chinatown.

You know those urban legends about people having their kidneys stolen? Those are true, but the organs
aren't stolen for transplants or any shit like that. There's a bloodline out there that eats them. Yeah, it's
nasty, but there's an upshot: They only have to eat one kidney a year.

There is a new bloodline, created by dissatisfied members of the Lancea Sanctum and the Ventrue.
Some say they want to start some sort of "vampire civil war."

There's a small bloodline of vampires that can only feed from people injured in auto accidents. They've
been around since the 1840s. No one knows what they fed from before.

There's a Mekhet bloodline that can step into mirrors and watch you from inside of them... that's why
sometimes you'll seee something in the mirror that isn't there in the real world; they're visible when
over there, and have to sneak their looks.

I heard that if you diablerize someone, their soul's inside you. You know what that means? It means that
there's someone else in there with you, fighting you, saying shit to you all the time. That's where
Malkovians really come from. That's why you're not supposed to do it.

There's a bloodline that gets nourishment from playing video games instead of drinking blood.

There's thousands of Morbus in Africa, getting fat off the AIDS epidemic. Soon, they'll be strong
enough to declare themselves a Clan.

There's a Mekhet bloodline who claim to be the true Hashishin, descended from the Old Man of the
Mountain. Supposedly, they can turn their blood to poison.

My sire's sire told me of an ancient bloodline who are marked on their forehead with mystic signs that
wept blood. That was the mark of Cain.

There's an anti-vampire bloodline out there that needs constant sunlight to survive, or they'll freeze and
fall apart. You don't want to know what they drink.

There's a small, young bloodline of vampires who've learned to feed off psychic energy through the
Internet. You can tell who their victims are, because all the color leeches out of their irises and
eventually they just fall dead at their computers.

You're almost right. There are things that do that, but they're not vampires like we are. And they can
feed on us as easily as they can feed on regular people.


The Chaverim are a bloodline of Jewish vampires descended from the Conversos, the Jews forced to
convert by the Spanish Inquisition. When some of those Conversos got Embraced and joined the
Lancea Sanctum, they decided to start their own secret thing. You can tell them because they say a
Hebrew blessing before they feed, but they do it silently.

The Chaverim are a bloodline of Jewish vampires of untold antiquity. They dwell in the hidden
catacombs beneath the Temple Mount, praying and waiting for the advent of the Messiah. If anyone
knows the truth of Golconda, they would.

The Chaverim are a bloodline of Jewish vampires of recent vintage; their founder, a Gangrel, was an
ardent Zionist. They embrace the wounded from Israel's battles with its neighbors, and sneak into the
West Bank to feed. Why did you think that tiny little country kept winning all those wars?

The Chaverim are a bloodline of Jewish vampires dating back to the wandering peddlers of medieval
Poland. They are all inflicted with incurable avarice; elders of the bloodline can only feed from bloodsoaked money. They are the smartest vampires in the world, and would certainly rule it if they did not
compete so vigorously with each other.

Bloodlines are the results of alien experimentation. Don't join one. They take you up... there... and...
do... things.

Naw, naw, man, you almost got it right. The Lupines are a Gangrel bloodline. Not even most Gangrel
know they exist. But they can feed on animals no matter how strong their blood gets -- it just takes a lot
more animals. You've heard of cattle mutilation? Yeah. That's when they can't find enough deer or
squirrels or whatever it is they eat. Of course, their big downside is that they get more like animals as
they get stronger and older. Not just looking like animals, but thinking like them, too. There's an elder
Lupe out there who's a wolf the size of a VW Beetle now -- and who'll tear your throat out soon as look
at you. Pure instinct. And the Lupes think the whole wild is their turf, and you know how you get when
there's somebody new on your turf...

There are some vampires, see, for them, blood's not good enough. They gotta eat people. These guys are
dangerous, too-their teeth are all like a bunch of little shanks, and their spit burns through you like
battery acid.

Okay, so I heard about a vampire that was able to develop control over his blood to such an extent that
he could control its movements. Then, he made each of his cells, blood and skin alike, contain his own
soul. Thus, he had COMPLETE control over his body. So much so, that he could consume a person by
just touching them and letting his cells embrace that person one cell at a time...
Carpenter's The Thing was a fuckin documentary, man!

Hey man, did you hear? The Camarilla is coming back!! yeah. Something really, really old woke up in
Rome just this year and all the old Elders are coming out of torpor. Word is that only vampires who
belong to a bloodline will be able to join up. Something about "proving worthy of the blood" or
"mastering their own vitae" or bullshit like that. Point is, if you don't belong to a bloodline when the
Camarilla comes to town, you will be nothing but a slave to them. I'd get myself 'lined soon as possible.
If I were you.

When a bloodline gets enough members, it ceases being a bloodline and becomes a clan. Doesn't THAT
explain why some clans are older than others?

There's a whole bloodline of vampires who do freaky stuff, like so horrible even the more monstrous
Lancea Sanctum bastards would retch. Apparently, there are things sleeping, and these guys worship
them and make bloody massacre for them. So they can keep them sleeping.

There is a bloodline of all-male vampires that can reproduce as humans do, with human females. They
have to give up part of their souls to impregnate, just as they do to Embrace, but they can have offspring.
The downside to belonging to that bloodline is they're all horndogs. Every single one of them.
The bloodline's name? Why, the Smiths, of course. Why do you think there are so many of them?

I hear that the Morbus can't be killed the same as the rest of us. At least, not for good. Kill one, and
they'll be back. Takes a while, longer then a human life span... usually... but they'll be back. Yeah, I
know... Sounds weird, but they adapt. Like a virus. I hear there's only one way to give one a real final
death, but I don't know what it is.

There's an entire bloodline of Mekhet, somewhere in the rust belt, who embrace their members while
they are drowning.

There's a bloodline of Ventrue, claim descent from the naga Kaliya (the one Krishna defeated).
Weirdly, for a bloodline claiming descent from serpent-deities, they can't bear to have a snake in their
presence. They just talk about some Curse for "Astika's crime."


You have to be careful with obsfucate- I know this Nos once who just vanished and never came back.

Don't be too jealous of that "meld with the earth" shit the Savages pull. I knew a guy once who sank
into the earth like it was quicksand, screaming all the way.

The only reason that animals come when you call them with Animalism is because someone trained
them to, a long time ago. She's still in torpor.

I met this old Mekhet who'd been sleeping a long time. He said he was from Lockesbury, the sixth
borough of New York City. I musta looked at him like he was nuts, but he just shook his head and said,
"Obfuscation is a bitch, man."

I swear, really man honest to god, that I saw this one Mekhet fly. I mean, not jump really far or nothing,
but really flying. He took off in a big blur, like how we look like on pictures but even more so, and so all
those UFO sightings? They're vampires. I shit you not.

The coils of the Ordo Dracul allow you to surpass being a Vampire altogether. But this happens by
transforming you into an actual, honest to God dragon. I shit you not. The reason you haven't seen
Dracula in a while is that he's a 50 ft firebreathing dragon.

The blood sorcery used by certain covenants is extremely addictive and will lead to its user's eventual,
slow and painful demise. I heard that once someone just disintegrated into a pile of dust hours after
performing a ritual. It wasn't a pretty sight and apparently took over one hour for final death. Me? I
wouldn't touch magic if my life depended upon it.

You've heard of blood magic? Anyone can do it, and the covenants don't want you to know. All you
have to do is create a ritual that means something to you, and fuel it with your vitae. I'm totally going to
curse the prince tonight.

You want to make sure that vampires with Auspex aren't spying on you? Hot peppers. One reflexive
whiff when their senses are sharpened and they are on the ground screaming.

I hear there was some new covenant out east working on a new type of blood sorcery, all dealing with
technology. Turns out, the Lancea Sanctum and the Circle of the Crone agree on one thing -- they got
together and wiped out as many of the researchers as they could. You ever see a vampire with circutry
tatooed under his fingernails, offer to hide him and he could teach you something. Or you could just
hand him over to the religious types for a reward.


You're thinking about joining the Ordo Dracul, are you? All those cool vampire yoga tricks they can do,
staying awake in the daytime, living off of animal blood forever, even going out in sunlight...all looks
really sweet, doesn't it?
What they don't tell you about is the downside.
All those Coils or whatever they're called do is put the curse off until later. Eventually, it comes
back...with interest.
How long it takes is different for every vampire, but after a while, suddenly all of those aspects of
vampirism you thought you'd gotten rid of come back with a vengeance. If you use their trick where you
stay awake all day too much, it'll catch up and you'll fall into torpor and never come out. If you use the
daylight resistance trick too much, eventually it catches up and it becomes even worse; you can't even
go out in the moonlight. If you play with the Beast too much, eventually it starts taking over all the
time, with only little bits of lucidity. And if you use the trick where you can get full from animal blood
too much, eventually it catches up and no blood is good enough, and you starve.
That's what happened to Dracula. He used the Coils so much that his body eventually couldn't handle
it, and it all came back on him. He ended up crumbling into dust in a dark room, hiding from the moon,
howling in madness and dying of thirst.
It's like a credit card. You can do all sorts of nifty stuff now, but eventually you'll pay, and when you do
it's a bitch.

If you mix the blood of an albino vampire with New Coke, you create a serum that can grant you the
Coils of the Ordo Dracul for one night. That's why those bastards in the Invictus took it off the shelves - the Ordo Dracul would be everywhere, man. What? No, I'm not an albino. It's just... I'm a little pale,


Blood drunk under a full moon is twice as filling as any other blood.

There are rare vessels out there with a nasty trick- you get bound to THEM when you drink their blood.
If you look close, you can tell who I'm talking about.

Gay men taste better.

Before New Coke, vampires could drink Coca-Cola and it'd nourish them like blood does. When CocaCola Classic launched, it didn't work anymore. No shit. The vampires who date back to before New
Coke don't talk about it, though.

Every so often a vampire just can't get nourishment from mortal blood. Nobody knows if it's because of
the mortals, the vampire, or what.

Everybody drinks from animals at least once, right, just to try it? Well, be careful with that shit. Some
flea-repellent products, like Revolution, turn a dog's blood into a slow poison. I knew a Nos who slipped
into torpor inside a week after drinking from somebody's yellow lab.

No, no. Way I heard it, it was New Coke itself vampires could drink. You think it got taken off the
market because it was unpopular? Bullshit, they did all those blind taste-test jobs, everybody liked New
Coke better than the original. It got taken off the market because whackjob vampires kept trying to
break into the factory and steal the formula, and Coka-Cola Corp. realized they were losing more money
from the attacks than they were getting from the increased sales to legal-minded vampires like me.
Goddamn yahoos ruined it for the rest of us.
Except, of course, they succeeded. There's a pirate factory in Africa somewhere, all the New Coke you
can drink, you just have to find it and accept a blood bond from the guy who runs it. Now me, I'm
happy where I am, but if you ever find out the factory's location, be sure to pass it along.

I hear the reason that Vanilla Coke was so big so fast was that it's poison to Kindred who drink it. It's
rumored to have been engineered by a group of insane human magi who wanted to use it to turn
themselves into ... wait ... it's not safe to tell that story anymore.

If you go to any Taco Bell between midnight and 3:00AM and order a "Black Sunday", they will sell you
a pint of human blood for $50, no quesitons asked.

I heard from a guy in Houston that the blood of fat people tastes better, but it makes you more lethargic.
If all you feed off of are overweight people, you'll be in torpor in no time. Me, I dunno if it's true or not,
but better not take any chances, right?

Blood dolls are a myth. I have never, ever seen an attractive female willing to hang around with me in
exchange for the Kiss. OK, maybe it's just me.

The blood of a pregnant woman is poisonous to vampires. The blood of an unbaptised infant, on the
other hand, is twice as potent as that of an adult ...

The blood of animals is OK, the blood of strangers is better, the blood of friends is better still, but the
blood of family- your actual mortal kin- is best. Seriously, you haven't tasted the good red stuff until
you've drained your own mother. Considering what she used to say about me being a parasite when I
was alive, the irony alone made it worth it.

Every single chicken at KFC is sucked dry before it gets served to mortals. Every. Single. One. I think
it's the Gangrel who are doing it.

You know how Americans are getting fatter? That's the work of a really old and powerful coterie who
have placed themselves in high positions in the food industry. If people are fatter, they'll be bigger and

have more blood. If they're fatter, they'll put up less of a fight if someone tries to feed off of them. The
videogames, McDonalds, the internet, they're all part of a scheme to make feeding easier by humans too
fat to fight back.


There was a doctor working with blood, and he figured out how to turn it into Vitae. No fooling, he
could take any sample of human blood, do some chemical shit to it, and poof, vitae! Fucker even
embraced some poor smuck.
Now, you'd think that I guy like that would get knocked off or embraced or put under control, toot
sweet. Not so. Not only does he have his own private army of ghouls, his own "childer", he's also got
some Elders on his stuff. Yeah, the kind that can't eat humans any more. They figured it was easier and
safer to get synthetic "human vitae". Nope, still just as addictive and the bond works just as good. The
good doctor knows it too, that's why he's been using his own blood as a starting point! Half of the most
powerful elders in teh Invictus are blood bond to a human!
The Doc's getting on in years, and he's not interested in being embraced. So now he's wondering if he
can make himself a ghoul, with his own vitae!
Hold a minute, if he can ghoul himself, he could also embrace himself. You think that's what happened
to the big D?


I hear if you go to a certain blood drive in Denver in the Fall and ask for a Golden Job you'll get
something BIG. Sure, they lie you on the table and take nearly all your vitae til you're not able to move
but it's what they put back in that's important.
You get Golden Blood. Dripping straight down an IV baggy right into your torn vein. I heard that as
long as you've got a pint of it in your veins you're free to walk in the sun. Or that it makes you alive
again, heartbeat and all. Or both. They go hand in hand, right?
But goddamn if that doesn't sound too good to be true, they must be taking something other than just
your blood. I can't see gain. But I'm gonna check it out. A chance to see my Julia again without her
freaking out. I gotta take it.

Did you know that you can make fake blood out of holly berries? Yeah, holly. That spiky-leaved plant
that's fashionable around Christmas. Trick is, it's not nourishing. It tastes like blood, and it doesn't
make us puke, but beyond that it doesn't do anything. I dunno why.

Ok, so we all know that elders get more powerful with age, and that their blood most likely thickens
too, but what you don't know is that their blood not only thickens, but it also grows darker and darker
until it is completely black.
Now, where do you think oil comes from?...
Why do you think that the US goverment is so keen on drilling in Alaska? It's because an incredibly
powerful elder is sleeping there and they want to get their hands on her blood... her black blood...

I haven't had to drink blood in forty years. How do I do it? Communion wafers.

Mexican Coca-Cola's special. Nobody knows why, but if you mix a teaspoon of blood in a half-liter
bottle- doesn't have to be fresh, but it helps- it's just as good as the original. But only Mexican. Weird,

Every night, at the corner of 5th and main, you'll find a woman singing softly, rocking a dead baby and
trying to nurse it. If you take a sip from the baby, everyone will ignore you for the rest of the night; you
can drink from whomever you want, in front of any number of witnesses, and no one will even notice.
Whatever you do, don't try and drink from the mother.

On Valentine's Day, and only on Valentine's Day, red roses given to a vampire by someone who loves
her will nourish that vampire as if it were vitae. No matter how ancient the vampire and potent her
blood, she will always be able to feed on red roses on that one day of the year.
The petals of 13 red roses will nourish a vampire enough so she can wake up the following evening.
So, pity the poor loveless vampires, and give them red roses on Valentine's Day. They yearn for the
soothing, delicious and tasty power of vegetable love.

I ran into this guy, who used to live in Vienna. He said that they had a guy down there who was giving
away bloodbags for free, by the hundreds! Didn't know where he got them from, but the blood seemed
to be on the-up-and-up.


We're all pawns- no, not of the elders. Of the Blood- of the Vitae itself. We politic and soul search and
never think about just what it is that's powering us- Vitae. It's dormant most of the time, it follows our
commands- but sometimes, it wakes up. That's the Beast- the Vitae overrides you and takes control. In
it's "natural" state, isolated inside each of us, it's nothing more than a frightened animal. But combine
several of them, and it's a whole 'nother story- how do I know all this? I learned the hard way.
I was a fixer for the Prince of San Francisco- she had me move on a coterie of Acolytes that were pissing
her off. My team takes them down, stakes them, then throws them all on a pyre- that must've done it
somehow. Free the Vitae from half-a-dozen Kindred that close together, it'll group up. One of the guys
on the pyre gets back up, heals every burn on his body in a matter of seconds, and charges us- he's got
the power of all six Kindred we just killed, and then some. I don't know why I survived, but I'll never
forget the last thing he told me:
"You've had your fun with us- now it's our turn. Man will know their God again."

All that stuff about Coca-Cola? Here's the real low down. When they made cocaine illegal they had to
find something to keep it addictive. Something that would never be discovered and never get banned by
any government. They lace it with Kindred Vitae. Seriously, there's dozens of us kept in torpor and fed
on animals. Milked for their vitae. Apparently, some real crazed cola addicts can ghoul themselves and,
yeah, I guess it could give you enough vitae to keep you going if you don't mind throwing up all the
other stuff they put in it and drinking/vomiting two gallons a night.

Somewhere in Ohio, there's a soda-vending machine that instead of selling root-beer, inside the can

you'll find the cool, carbonated blood of people who go missing on roads in the middle of the night. It
does not take paper money, despite having the apparatus necessary.


You can't be Embraced on the road. The street, sure, but not the road.

A vampire once Embraced a toddler to see what would happen. His brood mates know because they
found mention of it in his diary after they felt him die. Their sire says he doesn't feel any unaccounted
for grandchilde out there.

You remember that point when you were Embraced and you blacked out and you were dead for a few
seconds? Yeah . . . you didn't actually get back up. Somewhere out there is the world you died in, and all
the people you knew and friends you had are still there. You're somewhere else now. That's why your
memories of things are different when you come out of torpor. You remember the living world -- this
dead vampire world is the one that's fucked up.

That piece of your soul that you give up when you Embrace somebody? It doesn't go into them. They're
collecting somewhere.

You know why Rome is the earliest period in vampire history? Because nobody was around then.
Seriously. That's when Creation happened, and the angels who made the world still exist to this day.
How do I know? Well, you know that piece of your soul you put into a new childe during the Embrace?
A piece of one of those angels, man. And the reason we don't run out of pieces? Angels are infinite
beings, simple as that.

Responsible sires make sure to remove a potential childe's tattoos before performing the Embrace. Not
because otherwise the childe will be stuck with the tat forever, but because of what happens to a symbol
worn under the skin for so long.

The Three Traditions aren't built in- its something your sire did to you during the embrace, getting
inside your head to fuck with you. They do it so they can control us better.

Look, you're not who you were before you were Embraced. The guy born in that body died, and you're
the monster who took up residence -- you just think you're him because you took over his synapses, too,
and the Vitae ain't all that smart to start out with.
That's why so few of us get through the first century: we're each haunted by the ghost we evicted, and
said ghost is pissed. So you either gotta outlast the son of a bitch... or listen up, and learn how to enslave

Mortals who are deep in the vampire sub-culture, the kind that drink blood and claim to be a real
vampire even though they're alive, can't be Embraced.

No vampires were embraced in the years 1965 or 1966, in the whole world. Nobody knows why.

If you try to embrace a gypsy you'll both die in the process. Have you seen any gypsy vampires? Have

There's this vampire in London, that's lived 450 years, and he's never gone into torpor. Not ONCE.
You think he'd be some kind of Dracula on steroids.. but while he's fast/strong/powerful, he's not
superman. Get this, the guy still feeds on Humans! He says siring a childe every 20 or so years keeps him
awake.. So.. not only does this git have 450 years of experience, he has his own private coterie of
vampires that he can call to assist him. Now some of his oldest childes are starting to imitate him..
That's going to screw up the whole order of things...


I heard in Chicago there was a blood magician called Gregorus or Grimorus who was into bloodline
research. One day one of his embracees got the bite, and died again 3 days later. Yeah, he was a vampire
but his body just, I dunno stopped. Some weird torpor? Who knows. To make things odder the guy got
up again 3 more days later ALIVE. I shit you not, it's what I heard.
So Greg/Grim, whatever, tries to reembrace this kid in one of his private sanctum labs. Wants to make
sure he gets everything right and down on paper. He wasn't heard from again. No sign of the kid either.
What makes it worse is one of Grim's ghouls spotted this mystery walking dead guy a few hours later.
In broad daylight.
What the fuck is he? Who knows. Who knows if this is really goddamn real. But from what people say
he's either part of some kind of freaky living vampire bloodline or he's some anomaly who just can't be
embraced. Like his body just shrugs it off like a common cold. Common sense says the former, but I
don't know.
I really don't know. But, I'm not going near Chicago in a mortal lifetime. That's for sure.

You can only be Embraced if you've already lost your soul. Maybe it got ground up or stolen or you
bartered it away, but you were damned before anybody laid teeth on you. Dead already, just didn't know

I knew a blood doll in Atlanta who spontaneously vamped. Not kidding- apparently, being drained that
often lets some people cross over. Brrr. Hope I never meet that girl again...

I'm your sire? That can't be right. I though you were my sire.

Ever hear of a dhampir, man? It's an old Gypsy word for what happens to the baby when you embrace a
pregnant chick. If the baby's close to term, and you can get that baby out of its momma in time, well
that baby is like a half-vampire. 100% normal living baby in almost every respect. It probably wouldn't
even know about its kindred side, 'cept for three things: First, dhampir can smell us, man. No matter
how much Chanel 5 you lay on, those kids can pick you out of a crowded room you by givin' a big ol'
sniff. Second, Kindred mind-tricks don't work on 'em. Not Obfuscate, not Dominate, nuthin'. And
third, if a dhampir ever tastes human blood, it awakens their very own Beast. But other than that, they
can walk in the sunlight, have kids, any of that shit we all would love to do. Lucky bastards.

I hear tell some stupid-ass Daeva tried to do that to a black woman over in Great Britain in the 70s.
Now her kid's travelling the world, dusting any Kindred stupid enough to stick his neck out. Bastard's
under Lextalionis in, Christ, must be hundreds of domains by now, but in a twisted kind of way, he's
doing more for the Masquerade than some Princes out there. Helps to weed out the dumbfucks if there's
some guy out there waiting to stick a katana in 'em when they screw up.

'Course, I've also heard that Dracula did this to some woman back in the olden days, and now HIS kid's
running around hunting Kindred, too. But that's gotta be a load of bullshit. After all, dhampir get old
and die just like kine do . . . don't they?


The NSA knows about us, and they have a deal with the prince of DC- he supplies them with
brainwashed ghoul operatives, and they keep him supplied with vessels and keep thigs on the hush in
the city. The Men in Black are ghouls, man, what the hell do you think they are?

Vampires are not in control, their ghouls are. They provide the illusion of free will so that their vampire
pets wouldn't revolt.

Don't ghoul anything but a mammal. Reptiles and fish just get crazy, and birds shed their feathers to
show something else beneath. A ghouled insect will burrow into you and you'll never get it out.

You don't even want to know what happens when you ghoul a swarm of bees.

There is a family of ghouls, somewhere in Mexico, who guard the torpid corpse of a vampire so old, he
was already undead when the first humans crossed over to the Americas from Asia.


I heard from a guy who says he knows where it's at that the dreams we have in torpor are actually
psychic imprints from an alternate reality. Some of the Kindred who fall into permanent torpor have
actually just found a way to transcend the flesh and visit these other worlds. I shit you not.

Vampires slowly lose their souls to the demon that possessed them when they were embraced. The first
torpor is the time the last vestiges of their soul are consumed. All those Vampires who have come out of
torpor? Skin bags worn to hide the creature sheltering inside. If you listen really hard, you can
sometimes hear your demon giggling inside you as it nibbles away.

One of my broodmates became the Prince of Boulder a few years ago. He woke up one night starving
and realized he'd been in torpor for a couple of days. He wasn't injured or anything, he just fell into the
deep sleep. He couldn't find any of the other vampires, so he fed, and waited. When they woke back up
he told them he had knocked them out and he was Prince now, unless they wanted a repeat of the big
sleep in. So far none of them have been willing to call the bluff.


You know how, when you go into torpor, your memories get all screwed up, and you get these visions of
things happening differently from what really happened? No? Well, dont worry, youll get your chance
soon enough anyway, you do know about the weird shit you see in mirrors sometimes? Yeah? Well, its
actually the same shit. When you go into torpor, your soul goes into the mirror world, where things are
just a little bit different. No, I dont know why. Yeah, I know about that guy who says that we live in a
different world from the one we were Embraced in. Maybe the mirror world is the world we lived our
real lives in. Who knows?
Anyway, the point is if youll just let me get to it the point is, you know why our memories get all

scrambled in torpor? The Mekhet. They have this trick where they let their soul go flying around to spy
on people, and their elders know how to send their souls into the mirror world. Then they find the souls
of all the vampires in torpor and mind-rape them. Ever met a vampire who knows things about you that
no one else knows, that youve never told anyone ever? Theyre Mekhet. Of course they dont do it to
their own kind, so they wake up from torpor as fresh as a daisy, remembering everything just fine.

You think you've got it bad? My life changes every time I go to sleep. Like all these street numbers are
different from yesterday. Of course you don't notice. Like I said, it's my past that's changing.


Do you know why our memories are screwed up after we come out of torpor? It's because the world's
different. What? No, we don't end up in different worlds...that guy's close, though. It's because every
time we go into torpor, we change the world. Rework it a bit. Fiddle the history. We still remember a
little of how it used to be, but it's changed a bit for everyone else.
That's why we go into torpor. Hell, that's why vampires exist, man! All the powers are just to help us
feed, all the feeding is just to build up the power in our blood....and all the power in the blood is just to
fuel what we do during torpor. Why do you think our blood gets thinner while we're in torpor? Where's
that power going? It's getting used to rewrite history.
I'm not sure who's controlling the rewrites, though.

I was wondering, what if humans have torpor dreams, too? No, seriously. You've heard of reincarnation,
right? And we're dead, right? So, suppose that when we take our naps, our souls are going into the same
state they do when the regular kids die. Waking up is like getting born again, but we just get dumped
back into our own bodies.

You know, when you go into torpor, your memories change, right? Wrong. It's not your memories, but
the past itself that's changing.


There's a town in Illinois where within city limits, vampires can walk outside during the day.

Tape your mouth closed when you rest for the day. If you don't, spiders will crawl into it and lay their
eggs. I used to think that it was an old wive's tale, but the other day I saw the Sheriff cough up a spider.

When a vampire goes into the sun, there's a fine dust that comes out that you can only see with a
darklight. And if you snort it you get to be human. But only for a day.

No, no, you've got it all wrong. It's our people running Area 51. They've got some kind of generator
there running every day, creating a massive energy field that incinerates any vampiric flesh exposed to
it. That's what makes us go poof if we go out during the day, not sunlight. Yeah, it sucks, but you don't
want to know what would happen if they shut it down for more than the twelve hours it takes to cool...

Okay, fine, I'll tell you what's so funny. You're the only one who takes naps in the daylight.
Nah, just fucking with you.

You don't nap, either.

There are ways around going to sleep in the day... yeah.. you've heard the bullshit from the Order, they
just want to pull you in.. What you can do is if you drink the blood of thirteen virgins in one night..
Then you're guaranteed to be able to stay awake for the rest of the month.
Have I been able to do this? Fuck no! You try to find thirteen virgins around here.

You know why vampires crash in the daytime? Because our souls have already reincarnated. During the
day, they're walking around in mortal bodies. When we wake know about narcolepsy? Right.

I've heard vampires can walk outside during a solar eclipse. And if you Embrace someone during an
eclipse, then the sun won't hurt them.

Bury a gold coin that has been cried on by a virgin on a full moon on a crossroads on the minute
between Feb 29th and March first. For the next year and a day you can wake at HIGH NOON, look
upon the sun and gain your vitae to rise for the night.
Me, no, I've never tried it. I gotta get my full 12 or I'm useless the rest of the night.


If you do really bad things for a really long time, at first you get all corpselike, but then, if you keep it up,
you start getting normal again, except then you live by this vampiric code of behavior that lets you feed
as much as you like.

There is no Golconda, no cure, no magic trick - sunlight is the only key to salvation for a vampire.

You know why nobody claims to have reached Golconda? It's because the Elders know about it, and
they actively hunt down and kill those who reach it. Golconda makes you mortal again, you see, and
the Elders don't trust these new mortals to keep their mouths shut about their former existence -- in
other words, they consider it a "threat to the Masquerade."

You know The Waste Land, by T.S. Eliot? Yeah, the poem. I know a guy who claims there's a code in it,
and when you decipher the code, it contains the secret to becoming human again. It sounds crazy, but
the same guy became a millionaire picking his stock tips from Ezra Pound's Cantos.

Golconda isn't a state of being, it's a guy. Rumor has it, among those in the know, that he lives in New
York City and sells secrets to enlightenment from a newpaper stand. Thing is, you can't even see him
unless you're dangerously close to falling under control of the beast.

They say that watching 2001 with Auspex (really good Auspex) is an essential step to achieving
Golconda. I don't get it either, but apparently Kubrick knew what was going on.

Golconda is a derangement. Humanity is just the mild form of it.

The only way to lift the curse is to eat your own shadow.

I dunno about the Carthians or the Ordo Dracul, but the elders of the old covenants - Invictus, the

Lance, and the Circle - all know how to achieve Golconda. They haven't, though, and they keep the
information on how supressed.
Know why?
Golconda doesn't give you control of your Beast. It gives something else control of it. You know those
VII fuckers? All vampires who achieved Golconda. They opened up their souls, and something else got


Who told yo-- No, it's okay. I suppose...

My sire, you see. He was a seeker -- one of the unlucky ones, who actually found what it was he was
looking for.
It took him over a hundred years, and the path was horrendously difficult. He had to control his Beast,
mind his actions, confront the wrongs he had done. I still remember the night I awoke to find him in
my haven, standing above me. I nearly attacked him before he started to apologize to me.
After that, I didn't see him again for almost a decade. He'd found it, too, discovered the secret. The
horrible secret of Golconda. He'd returned to his mortality, you see, but it wasn't as he imagined...
He was human, he'd lost his powers. He could walk in the light, see his reflection, feel love and other
emotions that had long been taken from him... But...
The Hunger...
Once you accept the Embrace, once you accept this false life instead of passing along, you can never
escape its curse.
There is no forgiveness.
The Elders don't kill those who find Golconda. They take their own lives. Always. They cannot bear
what they discover.

There's a guy, somewhere in Montana, that if you give him half your bood, he'll let you live a whole day
as a human. No, really! But if you don't return inside before the time limit he sets... May God have pity
on your soul.

You know all that talk about 'reaching golconda'? Yeah, like it's some sort of philosophical attainment
or something? Well it ain't. It's a real place, in India. You want to figure stuff out you got to go to the
spiritual heartland man, to India... to Golconda.
Me? Nah... I don't take to travelling much, but there's a place in Illinois and another in Nevada called
Golconda too. Maybe I'll check 'em out. The idea's the same, right?

If you go to the old abandoned hotel on Carl Street, and then go into room 313 between 1 and 3:35

AM, there will be a glass full of powerful vitae, and a videotape. Don't touch the glass, take the tape,
and return home. Wait a week without returning to the room to drink the glass, and then watch the
tape. You'll get the secret to Golconda.

In one of the vampire movies made before 1990 you can see, for a moment in a scene, easy-to-follow
directions on how to reach Golconda drawn up on a blackboard. The trouble is, nobody knows which
movie is the right one. I have heard that in Hollywood there is a coteriae that does nothing, aside from
feeding, but watch old movies, night after nigt, hoping to find the right one.


Vampirism was formulated in 1776 by a cabal of mages. Everyone claiming to be older than that is a
dupe or one of Them.

The true source of the vampiric curse is known by the upper echelons of all the covenants. They don't
want to reveal the truth because it's embarassing.

Vampires are not cursed, the mortals are.

The first vampire was the snake in the garden of Eden.

Jesus is the progenitor of all vampires. The reason our blood gets stronger as we get older is because
when we feed, we absorb a small part of the Divine that every living thing carries around inside of itself.
Diablerie is just like a triple shot espresso of it. We sleep it off because even our bodies can't handle that
much Divinity.

People always talk about the First Vampire. They're looking at things from the wrong direction. We
were here first. The First Human was built about 20,000 years ago as a combination reproduction vector,
servitor race, and super-efficient food source. They hailed it as a world-altering innovation, a triumph of
Kindred power.
But shit got out of hand in just a few centuries, and now look where we are. Lost princes in a land built
from our dregs. Grieve not for your slave soul -- help us take back what is ours.

The first vampires were the children of mortals and those known as the "first children" of the "machinegod". The entire race of vampires are a curse upon the mortals. One day these "first children" will return
and wipe out the mortals and their half-breed children.

Fuck Lupines, there's no such fucking thing as vampires, man. We're all just the subjects of a
government mind control experiment. Mass fucking hallucination man, something in the tap water.

Nah, used to be in the water... now they transmit the mind control signal directly to our brains,
man... How? See that tower? The one that's supposed to be for cell phone reception or some shit?
Brainwaves, man... think about it...

Vampires are a result of an experiment by the greys. The greys first visited earth during the Roman
Empire. I think Jesus was a failed experiment, so he was disposed of.

There was no "first vampire". See, in two hundred years people invent time travel and a vamp goes

back, and it's all a cycle, man. I got told by one of the guys who got sent back, he doesn't go into torpor
because they got bio-engineered blood that'll feed you even then. Once they invented it there was no
need for humans so everybody got turned into vamps, and it's a vampire utopia with cities under solar
panels and everything.

Curse of vampirism my ass. We're an experiment -- no, a secret project. A secret weapon. Our "curse" is
designed to select for clever psychopaths who can moderate their violence. They're trying to build a
better bastard. Eventually, they'll take us off the shelf, and the covenants will mean about as much as
the pecking order in a cockfighter's coop. What? Why the nocturnal part? Because they won't need us
until after the sun goes out.

"Vampire" is actually an acronym. It stands for "Vigilant Artificial Machine Programmed for Infiltration
and Rational Exploration". We're actually nanotech constructs created by advanced aliens. They came
from a dark world, and so their technology is unstable in bright light. I have my sources.

There is this crazy fucking old man living in the Appalachian Mountains who says he's the First
Vampire. Says he's also the First Murderer. He seems like a crazy old bastard, but the tricks he can do... I
still don't know how I got down that mountain alive.

Vampires showed up twenty years ago. One night, no vampires, by the next night there were vampires
in every city as if they'd been there for centuries. And I'm the only one who noticed.

Vampires are a virus. Really. When you get embraced, you get a bit of the soul of the original vampire,
and your soul becomes just like his. It was supposed to be a way to make everyone in the world share the
same soul, but fluke mutations like the sunlight and needing to drink blood stuff popped up. Be glad you
lose memories, or else you'd remember his.

Dude, there was this mage who wrote these fucked up SF novels in the 60s and 70s his name was
something stupid, like Dick or Trout or something and he got these visions of first century Rome
overlayed over everything, so he started to think that maybe this is Rome, still...
Well, he's right. There's only ever been 2000-odd years of history, and they just keep repeating over and
over. Every time, new shit is added, so the last 2000 years was the 'vampire time.' And the cycle's almost

Vampirism started in Africa, way back in prehistory. I met a vamp who was there -- old wizened black
guy, he plays blues these days. Maybe you've seen him down at -- never mind. Point is, he was a shaman
or something back then. Him and a bunch of his tribesmen were trying to call down spirits of the hunt
or something, to get them good kills the next day, and something went wrong. Now they're hunting
forever, and the prey they kill starts hunting too... Well, sure the guy's been in torpor a few times, so he
doesn't remember every little detail, but it makes sense, doesn't it?

You know Lucy? Yeah, the skeleton. Well, when they found her, she had fangs. Yeah, big nasty ones.
Must have fallen into a bog or something. Who the hell knows how long she was conscious while the
ooze filled in around her. Anyway, I hear the Invictus have covered up enough and dominated enough
people so people nowadays think she's just some upright monkey-human. Naw man, we were chompin
people in Africa back in the day.

You know, this Vampire thing, in truth, it doesn't exist! It's nothing, really. We're nothing. A dream.

One day you'll wake up and find yourself to be mortal again, like as if nothing happened.
Nothing of the Requiem is real. It can't be. I mean, come on. Vampires?
Like hell.

Jesus was a vampire. Think about it: that's why his blood turned Longinus. When Jesus was out in the
desert, gettin' tested, the Devil vamped him. Same thing happened to Dracula. There never was any
"first vampire;" the Devil creates new ones every few centuries, whenever he needs to subvert someone
who's important to God's grand plan!

Ever hear that conspiracy theory that the Beast is actually a demon that's posessed you? They've got it
The real you is the Beast. The part of you that thinks and decides and holds the Beast at bay is a fallen
angel, thrown into a corpse as punishment for rebelling against God. That's why you still feel pangs of
conscience - the angel in you is trying to redeem itself.

You know where Vampires come from? We come from Werewolves.

I'm serious, man. I found out. It's like this, you see.
When two Werewolves get it on, they don't have a Werewolf kid. Instead they give birth to a Vampire
spirit. The spirit goes and waits till some Vamp decides to Embrace someone. Then it possesses the new
Vamp. We're all possessed, all of us - by Vamp ghosts the doggies made.
Why are they doing it? Oh god, oh god - you don't wanta know.

There's a room somewhere in the Great Pyramid that has remained hidden for all these years. There's
someone trapped inside, and he's still alive. His name's Mekhet.


My sire once talked to this Daeva in Paris. The succubus was from Persia, and said he had some kind of
lore on the origins on us.
See, the Bible has it more or less right. There were these two brothers who lived Devil knows how many
years ago. Kabil and Habil -- Cain and Abel. Cain killed Abel, you see, out of some niggling spite. But
Abel didn't die, not really. In his death throes, he made a pact with some weird spirit or shit, allowing
him to walk the earth as a dead person and therefore bear witness to God against Cain. Of course, the
spirit took control of Abel's body from then on. That's where the Beast comes from.
But it doesn't stop there. You wonder what happened to Cain? Yeah, he had a mark put on him so that
no one would dare kill him, in retribution. But that mark wasn't some kind of tattoo. It was a wolf, who
was assigned by God to guard Cain. But eventually the wolf died (dog years, you see), and Cain ate its
heart to gain its power. That's where werewolves come from, man. The first murderer, who stole the
spirit of a wolf. That's why they hate us, 'cause the children of Cain are trying to finally put down the
childer of Abel. It makes sense, too. Talk to any werewolf long enough, and they'll mention some
ancestral sin.
Shit, man. Makes you wonder where mages come from.

You know how all your old memories are weird? And how no one can tell you how vampires first came
about? That's because kindred didn't exist until last year. Since then History's been trying to catch up.
Some of us think we can control it too, that's why so many sects have their own creation myth, they
think if they can influence it into history, they'll be more powerful.

I used to work for the university's paleontology department- we were on a dig in Ethiopia a few years
back, and dug up the weirdest fucking thing- it was a stone tablet with the Gangrel clan's symbol carved
on it, or at least something damn close to it. The fucked-up part? We found it clutched in the hands of
an Australopithecus fossil from three and a half million years ago. The question is: were we really
around back then, or did they steal that symbol from something else? And how the hell did the tablet
last that long? Come to think of it, we never figured out what it was made from...


There's a vampire, an ancient thing, teeth have nearly worn away from use. Lives in the shadows of the
Great Rift Valley. It's related to me somehow, although I know for a fact where all my relations are. Plus
I met it with my coterie, and two out of the other three felt the same tie, and we're not the same blood.
Except to it.
I think it might be related to all of us, no matter our own personal origin stories.
I'm not saying it's the original though. Even it seemed to have something it feared was watching us
speak. Even it seemed to have a sire.


A gang of vampires wiped out a small town somewhere in the Southwest, maybe Arizona. Killed every
last person. And no one around there seemed to notice. The town's still there, if you can find it...

You know that village on Salisbury Plain? The one the Army evacuated in WWI so they could do
"maneouvres"? Well, it's still occupied by troops, but they can all recognise Kindred when they seem
'em. And they shoot to kill. Fuck knows what's in there, and I ain't going to be the one who tries to find

Anarctica is a secret vampire republic. There are all these ghost towns set up and the citizens migrate
along with the night. They breed polar bears and penguins for blood.

And there's a place in Greenland where the Vampires rule openly. It's way out in the boonies, and
they've kept it under wraps. ... Now, I don't know where it is, but if you hear anything, you'll tell me,

There are no Kindred in Hawaii. And I don't buy that crap about 'Pele the Goddess' protecting her
island or whatever. I just think anyone smart enough to survive the trip is too smart to want to live on a
volcanic island.


Okay, you know that every major city in the United States has a court and therefore a Prince, right?
Even though it might be called something else, there's always someone high up in charge, right? Wrong.
In fact, there's one major capital city that doesn't have any form of organized Vampire presence.

Oklahoma City.
Yeah, yeah, I know. Not really a major metropolis, right? Kinda off the radar, right? Why would anyone
want to go there? Nothing to see and do, right? But, there is government and blood, so there must be
something there right? And you're right, there was. Met a lot of vamps who had passed through on their
ways to greener pastures. Had a lot to say about OKC's prince and court. So, it used to exist. But
Nope. Nothing. Nada. No court or anything. Hell, even Tulsa was kinda anemic in Vitae, if you take
my meaning. All I could get out of a crazed Gangrel in Tulsa was one phrase over and over.
"The Guardian. The Guardian."
So, I Googled that phrase along with OKC and found that he must have meant the damn statue on top
of their capital. Only thing is...every vamp that I can find that has memories of OKC don't remember
the thing being there. In fact, all they remember about the capital was that it used to have no dome and
definately no huge Native American warrior on top of it. there is a dome and the
statue's definately there. So, what happened, right?
I think I know what happened.
See, somehow, the damn kine there cast some sort of major protection ritual or something. And as part
of it, they built a shrine on top of their capital and elevated this warrior to a place where it could watch
over their lands. Now, I bet that not one normal person in that place knows about this ritual...but, there
was a MASSIVE viewing for months before it was placed on top of the new dome. And during that
time, a lot of people in the surrounding areas went and saw it and every one touched it. EVERY.
SINGLE. PERSON. That thing collected the imprints and energies from each person. And
watches over them. And it protects them. Literally. And Vampires...well, apparently we were prey to it.
Stay away from Oklahoma City. Not worth it, man. Not worth it by far...

On June 28 1914, every Kindred in Sarajevo disappeared. Don't go there in 2014.

Speaking of DC, vampires burst into flames if they step within Lincoln's gaze. No one knows why.
Avoid the monuments, man.

In the 1890s, a town in Utah captured a vampire, forced him to embrace a dying girl, and torpored him.
The girl they fed with unwanted children, and she embraced everyone in the town who was on the
verge of dying.
By now, it's probably all kindred. Devil knows where they get the blood from.

I'm glad I got out of New Orleans when getting out was good. Last I heard, Prince Vidal, Savoy, the
Baron had all been diablerized, and with all the humans evacuated, those who stayed behind didn't have
anyone to feed on but each other. There's no way I'm going back.

You hear what they're up to out in Ft. Wayne? I hear the prince out there has some kind of Ventrue
idiot savant running the show. Any new kindred come into town, they're issued a cell phone with one
of those GPS chips. Every sundown, you get a call from undead Rain Man, and he tells you where and
when to feed. He makes sure that there's no chance of any two Kindred bumping into each other, keeps
the cops and shit off your back, too. You get a different stomping ground each night, and as long as you
stick to the plan you never have to worry about getting into any pissing matches over turf. Hell, he's
even got some kind of spreadsheet that he puts your dinner preferences into, so each night you're
guaranteed to get a taste of whatever you've got a hankering for. It's the next best thing to having an
entire city to yourself!


Well, the atmosphere around the concentration camps is certainly troubling but at most camps it is
mostly like some weird form of background noise, unintelligible voices screaming and muttering but
never enough to be more than spooky.
But the sites of the extermination camps are unbearable... Never ever try to get near one, DO NOT try
to actually enter one. I tried to visit Auschwitz-Birkenau last year, my historical curiosity piqued and I
almost paid dearly for it.
The God of the Jews certainly tried them harshly but HE remembers the covenant he has with HIS
people. The earth itself still cries out for the spilled blood of his children and tries to devour every kind
of supernatural being that goes near it.
And the worst part: You have the feeling that you are watched by beings whose righteous fury almost
threatens to break through the barrier of reality.
Strangely both the Ordo Dracul and the Circle of the Crone, who both are adept at geomantic rituals
seem pretty oblivious to this effect...

Out in Oklahoma, there's a town where they've got twenty-five hours in the day. At midnight,
everything stops where it is for an hour- people, cars, raindrops. The mortals don't know the difference.
But we don't stop, and neither do the wolves.

Something purged San Francisco of Kindred- the Prince stopped sending orders to a coterie she had
checking out increased Lupine activity in the val- yes, I KNOW that's incredibly stupid, let me finish.
Three of them went into town to find out what happened, and everyone was gone- everyone, ghoul and
Kindred alike. No sign of hunter activity or Kindred violence- the only guy they found was a badly
wounded and raving Gangrel acolyte- all they got out of him before he hit the next sunrise was the
phrase "The Vitae will serve us no more". At least that's what the guy who stayed behind told me- the email that told him all that was the last he heard from them. The worst part? I've heard whispers
Sacramento went dark just a few nights ago.


Did you ever see Underworld? That's a documentary, or at least it started as one before they re-did the
script a bunch of times. I hear it really happened in some city on the west coast, but I don't know which

One of the most influential vampires of the last century is a well-known woman named Nancy. No, not
that one.

Every famous dead rock star from Buddy Holly to Kurt Cobain got Embraced, and all by the same guy.
Goddamn Daeva...

Cobain was never alive to begin with.

Ever see that show, 'The Real World: New Orleans'? No, the second time they went there. Remember
that guy who slept all day, was a real asshat, but always seemed to go off with some random chick? Dude,
that guy was a Mekhet I know. Swear to God. Watch the season; he never went out in the sun, not

I was the guy wrote Interview with the Vampire. No shit. I gave it to Anne Rice as a gift. Then she

dumped me and had it published, and wrote her own series of sequels. Now I can't get near her.

Elvis wasn't just embraced, he kept on recording. He goes on underground private tours for Princes, city
after city. If you can find the records and play them backwards it has all this vampire political shit.

Aleister Crowley was a running gad between two old vampire buddies- one would get him for a year,
dominate him, and make him do crazy things. All his books are clever in-jokes between the two.

The hanging munchkin in the Wizard of Oz? Vampire. Nah, he wasn't commiting suicide, he just
wanted to be in the movie for kicks. It's amazing what you can do with obfuscate. Some say he got
waxed later though, since it was technically a violation of the Masquerade.

Vampires control the fashion industry. You know all those thin, pale runway models? Blood dolls, every
one of 'em.

Knowledge of vampires is more widespread than we usually think -- it's sort of a "everybody knows it,
but nobody talks about it" thing. If you look at music, and all those songs that are supposed to be about
sex, almost half of 'em are actually about vampirism. No kidding.

One of the cast of Star Trek TOS became a vampire. I'm not saying which one.

I hear there's a rehab clinic out in the countryside in England. I can't be sure what the treatment is, but
there's a bunch of footballers and soap opera actors who owe favours to some serious players.

The guys who created Superman copied a vampire they saw in an alley in Cleveland. Trust me.

In Seattle, this guy ghouled Bill Gates, and he forces Bill to engage in lethal street combat so that he
can get his blood fix.

One time, I was in Arkham and I met Howard Philip Lovecraft. Apparently, someone embraced him.
He told me a lot of freaky things. Want to know what?

There really was an Abdul Alhazred. The frikkin' book REALLY exists. I got a copy, and if anyone
wants it, it's theirs. I'm even willing to pay them. You know someone who'd want it, don't you? Please?

Okay, 'fess up. Which one of you bastards is responsible for Twilight?
I bet it was a Daeva trying to cover up a masquerade breach, right?

Fuck Twilight, that's just some stupid Anne Rice wannabe- that thing up in Sweden, though, Let The
Right One In? I've got it on good authority it really happened to a particularly powerful elder- she just
mixed it up with a variety of other myths about us and filtered it through her ghouled author so it
wouldn't be so obvious.

I suppose you've all heard about the sudden downfall of the Prince of LA, by now. Bet what you haven't
heard is that she spent the night before it all started to go down in the company of one Charlie Sheen.
Seems they'd both been drinking, if you know what I mean...


When the Allies pulled out of Europe after World War 2, they made a deal with some Nazi vampires to
get them out and give them lots of information about themselves, so they wouldn't fall in the hands of
the Russians.

Nixon was innocent. That missing Watergate tape? It had proof of the existence of vampires -- the US
government has been in bed with the Invictus since the end of WW2. They made it dissapear and
manufactured the scandal to keep public eyes off them.

Every president in the history of the US has been a vampire. The same vampire.

No, man. Think about it. The president is way too high profile. The way I hear it, there's a vampire who
who's had some functionary job or another since at least World War I, and he really runs the whole
show. Only, he went into torpor a little while ago, during the middle of the last election. That's what
that whole mess in Florida was really about - a few of his old enemies were trying to mess up his plans
while he couldn't react.

You know the rumor that Kennedy was actually shot by two people and not that one guy? They say the
second guy who shot Kennedy was a Mekhet who discovered the secret to walking in daylight. The
reason you never see him is because he's also a master of Obfuscate and nobody thought to move the
camera to him, and he shot Kennedy because Kennedy was a vampire who knew it too and he didn't
want anyone else to have the secret.

Princess Anastasia is a vampire. And she knows all the Romanov prophesies so she's a billionaire on the
stock market from all her proxies.

The first Gulf War was staged to settle a bet between two elder vampires. The second Gulf War was the
winner trying to collect on that bet.

My grandsire told me once that back during World War 2, the Nazis had vampires running their
concentration camps. He met one of them once in '41, a thin unassuming Ventrue named Steiner. He
heard one day that Steiner had been caught, and was being put on trial, but the picture was of the
wrong guy, and the charges didn't say anything about the death camp he ran. It got his curiosity up, and
he looked around, and there's no record of Steiner's camp anywhere. A couple years ago, he said he was
going to Poland to find Steiner and his camp, but we never heard from him again.

Remember Arkan? Markovic? All those Serbian butchers NATO can't find have been vamped and
turned into a certain Elder's bully boys.

Every government in human history has been completely, totally in the thrall of vampires. Revolutions
only happen when the young bloods get tired of their elders.

Huey P. Long was cracking down on vampires in Louisiana, so the prince had him killed. I heard his
ghost still haunts the prince though.

A major cause of WWII was Hitler trying to steal the Spear of Longinus from a Lancea Sanctum
cathedral in Austria, and the Allies trying to take it back. They never recovered it and nobody knows

where it is now.

The government's had a "Vamp Czar" since the mid-50s. The current guy's so paranoid that he's
commandeered a small fleet of jets to keep him constantly moving westward, always staying in the
sunlight. They only stop for refueling, restocking, and switching planes so that the fleet's always in good
repair. Guy hasn't seen a vamp in twelve years.
Of course, now he's almost got more ghouls working for him than mortals. Shmuck.

Frank Lloyd Wright built Fallingwater as a sanctuary against vampires. Thought there was something to
the old legend that we can't cross running water. Poor bastard.

Man, my sire had this freaky old book. Not like a real book- it was one o' them scroll things. It was by
that guy from Superstar. Y'know, the one with the swimming pool.

Bosnia? That was us.

The Aztecs ripped out the hearts of their sacrifices. What did the Mayans do? Drown people? Bullshit.
Don't listen to anybody who tells you that they know. They're lying. Only the Elders sleeping beneath
Merida know.
The Mayans didn't get conquered. They disappeared, you know. Think about it.

There's a vampire out there who only feeds once a year, but when he does he'll finish off an entire
village. The New World Order's got him trapped in North Korea, which is why the whole place is so
secretive. The Korean War, nuclear weapons, and Kim Jong Il's bad haircut? That's all a show designed
so that the rest of the world will rationalize the nuclear apocalypse that'll come when the NWO finally
takes him out.

Vampires aren't affected by radiation. Just think about it and tell me if you really believe that Kindred
didn't start the entire nuclear arms race!


On June 28th, 2008 a bunch of revenants who were put into torpor are all going to rise.

When you join a covenant I hear they actually replace you with a more... compliant... version of you. Of
course "they" deny this but it's true. What? Do I belong to a covenant? Of course not. That's why I can
tell you this.

Asphault. Asphault is, I swear, made out of vampire teeth. No, seriously, don't laugh. They come in to
your haven during the day and pry them out, and before the sun sets again the things regenerate.
Don't look at me that way. I'm not crazy. I'm not.

This Mehket told me that something destroyed an entire universe last year. It's sleeping now, but in
2012, it's coming for us.

Synthetic wood will stake you just as surely as real wood will. I hear there's a vampire in upstate New

York doing experiments to see where the line between "synthetic wood" and "regular old plastic" sits.
Don't go into upstate New York -- he's always looking for more research subjects. No, I didn't escape
from him or anything like that; I just know a guy who says he did. His chest is all scarred from the tests.

I hate, goddamn HATE, fanboys granted supernatural powers. Those flayed children with scalpels for
hands in that old Playstation game? Kinda nifty until obvious homages are shredding your friggin'
kneecaps. Yeah, laugh. Fine, I won't tell you where I found them - it can be your special little surprise.

If you ever see a man with a cross tattooed on his face standing on a street corner drinking what looks
like lime-green Kool-Aid, run. It's not Kool-Aid.

Back in the 1950's, the CIA found out about Vampires and started a crash program to find ways to
counter the "undead menace" that came up with all sorts of nasty stuff. One of the things they found
was a chemical that's harmless to humans, but makes their blood deadly poison to vampires. What's it
called? Sodium fluoride.

The U.S. government has seen through the Masquerade, man. Echelon and Carnivore? They use them
to keep a census of the Kindred population of the world. If "they" ever decide that there's too many of
us, they'll blow the whole thing wide open.

Don't forget to blink.

The government knows about vampires. They're just waiting for word from their alien masters before
moving on us.

Never hunt at Walmart. Walmarts are alive. They are these huge molevolent spiritual predators, and
they fucking hate vampire competition. You know that dazed look people walking out at 2 in the
morning have? That's because the store ate a piece of their soul. If you're good enough with Auspex, and
you look at a Walmart, you'll go batshit insane.

Never feed from a mailman. Their union has a deal with a dozen US princes, and if anyone kills a
postman in the US, they get rubbed out. Seriously, I knew this guy who jumped a postman when he was
hard up for blood, and the next night... poof. Just gone.

Don't hunt in the clubs downtown. Vampires who go there don't come back. I think something else is
hunting vamps in that area, and I don't want to meet it. Let's just hope it doesn't decide to increase its


You ever heard that some older vampires can't feed on mortals anymore, and have to feed on vampire
blood? No? Well, it's true. Ask around, most Princes are at that stage. They like to keep it quiet, but it's
true. It's something of an open secret. (And don't bring it up to 'em, because they usually find it more
embarrasing than anything else.)
That's not all, though. Vampires... we're supposed to be these all-powerful immortal lords of the night,
right? But they say there are hardly any of us more than two or three centuries old. Sometimes they say
most vampires just don't live that long, they give into ennui or whatever. They're lying.
See, real old vampires have to feed on us like we have to feed on mortals, right? Well, do we let the

mortals know that we exist? 'Course we don't.

Watch your back, man.

Police radar scanners can detect vampires. Don't speed if you're in your own car -- you don't want them
marking down your license plate number.

Watch out for the newer security cameras. They contain sensitive equipment that can detect heartbeats
and body temperature. You've heard about how vampires who enter some of the trendier clubs in town
are never seen again...


Kids are creepy. And powerful. No shit; you know they can see through Obfuscate, right? Thats just the
least of what they can do. Invisible friends, monsters under the bed, doorways to imaginary worlds its
all true. Good thing that the little bastards lose all their powers as they get older. Come on, you
remember what it was like at that age. Of course, some of them keep the powers, and thats where the
real witches and sorcerers come from.
Plus, it works the other way. They get weaker as they get older, see? So the younger they are, the
stronger their powers and that goes all the way back, right into the womb. Thats why people are so
damn nice to pregnant women. Thats where all this Protect the Unborn pro-life crap comes from. Its
all embryos mindfucking the world, channeling their powers through the primitive survival instinct.
And listen what with the rising population and birth rates, there are more unborn babies now than
ever. Its a god damned fetus population explosion.
Soon, theyll figure out how to work together. Pool their powers, all across the globe. You think theres
some kind of conspiracy to run the world now? You aint seen nothing yet.

Remember what happened some fifty years ago? All the sudden and unexplainable baby deaths? I heard
from a guy who had hacked the town's coroner's computer and got access to all the files. He told me the
REAL reason to why the babies died. Half of the skulls were gone man. Brain sucked out. You know
what? Fifty years have passed soon, man. Something horrible is about to wake up.

You know those little pepper-spray things, that women carry around to use on muggers? Well, there's
this new ingredient that they've been putting in some of 'em. Doesn't do anything to humans, as far as I
can figure, but if one of us gets hit, it's face-melty time. Saw a guy who got hit once, and he looked like
he went bobbing for apples in boiling oil.
What I can't figure, though, is who made it. Are the humans starting to catch on, or is this something
the elders are pulling to get us to keep our heads down and stick to animals and impressionable goth

Always try and stay away from children, man. You know that milk and cookie stuff kids do on Christmas
Eve? Magical ritual, no fooling. I met this old guy in the Ordo Dracul who said it was a 'pact with the
supernatural' or something like that. Mess with a kid and the universe itself will have it in for you.

You remember Elina? Yeah, I haven't seen her in a while either.

I heard she had some plan to take over the local Red Cross chapter.

The last anyone saw of her was walking into that joint.

Rumor has it there's this government outfit tasked with "Paranormal Defense Operations", but it's really
just around so the higher-ups don't get themselves screwed with. That's why you never fuck with the
federal government, man- I knew a vampire who thought he'd thrall up a Senator and figured he had all
the other problems sorted out. He didn't get far before some black ops psychos broke into his haven
with flamethrowers. Never fuck with the government- they know everything.

The government has known we exist since the early Fifties. They've been working since then on a way
to kill us all, a special weapon that would eradicate us. What is it? Well, it's the REAL reason the
NASA was made. they've been working on it for nearly fifty years, and now it's close to completion.
Giant Space Mirrors, dude! Giant Space Mirrors.

When you diablerize someone, you don't drink their soul. They drink yours.

Never feed in front of a porcelain doll, these things are just not right, and they certainly don't need any
sort of incentive to get really wicked.

Hunters? Just a rumor.

You know why you can't embrace Magi? Because they're just the shadows of greater beings outside of
reality. Werewolves on the other hands can't be Embraced for the same reason you can't Embrace dogs,
because it is too silly to give up a piece of your soul for.

There ain't no such thing as Lupines. Listen. Vampires who spend a lot of time in the wilds, well, they
learn to subsist on animals no matter how old they get. I talked to one once, he said it's like the
promised land out there. But it takes a lot of animals to feed a single vampire, so the ones who live in
the wilds like to spread this whole "Lupines" hoax to keep their numbers low. Ask anyone who knows
the most about werewolves, and they'll say the Gangrel. That's 'cause the Gangrel are the ones who
masterminded it in the first place. Of course they're going to know the most about it. If you ever meet a
"Lupine" in the wilds, just tell them you know this, and they'll more than likely let you in on it, as long
as you promise not to tell anyone else.

If you hold a silver coin under your tongue, Lupines can't see you. But it has to be 100% pure, and it has
to be a coin minted as currency by an actual country, not just some silver disc.

I once saw a werewolf change into a vampire. No shit! That's why we never see werewolves in the city.
They are among us now! Watching. Waiting. Ever wonder why some vampires just disappear?
Werewolves like eating vampires.

There are vampire hunters out there who detect vampires by the rate they blink - catching those who
don't blink enough, or blink too much. I'd start practicing if I were you.

It's said that a sword quenched in the blood of a werewolf can cut down any supernatural creature.

Only pure silver works on werewolves. Silver nitrate just pisses them off royally.

Have you ever seen a real 'werewolf'? Hell no. It's all bullshit and lies by the Princes to keep us isolated
in their cities- the only way a vampire can be free is to hit the open road.

I heard we can't be hurt by any weapon made before the Plague. I dunno which plague, though, and I
heard its the opposite for wizards.

Ain't no such thing as werewolves. Not exactly. There's just animals that can turn into other animals.
Any other animals. Pigeons, rats, bugs, you name it, they can do it. They just turn human when they
want to talk, and wolf when they want to fuck something up. I don't know what they are exactly, but
they're everywhere, and you can't boss 'em around with Disciplines, and silver don't do dick.

Wizards? Don't shit me, man. Those fuckers were just a bunch of uppity ghouls. Real wizards can't take
money from anybody, or else they owe them a favor.

Area 51? It's the staging area for the shapeshifters and their alien masters. If we can find it and take it
out before December 21 2012, the world is ours. Vampires would be able to walk the earth without
hiding from the humans. If not.... best not speak of such a thing.

Dude, haven't you noticed that December 21, 2012 is the date the Mayans predicted would be the end
of the world? You know why they said that? Let's just say that the ancient Mayans disappeared about the
time the shapeshifters showed up. They weren't predicting, man... they were planning.

On Halloween night, nothing you do, no matter how heinous, will strengthen your Beast. Come sunrise,
whatever you did seems like a distant dream and won't phase you at all. The one problem? Jack of the
Lantern. No, not those stupid pumpkin things. They're just an homage to him. See, he's this centuriesold Irish ghost. Real bastard in life. Some Daeva kept wanting to embrace him, but Jack wouldn't hear it
and she had some hang-up about consent. So eventually, the vamp got fed up and drained his whole
family, then iced him, too. Ever since, he's had it in for all us, and every Halloween he goes out to wreak
his vengeance. If you see him, get away, fast. That lantern of his burns like the sun. Beats me why he
only comes out on Halloween.

Werewolves are immortal, just like us. They even go into torpor, sort of, though its really more of a
hibernation thing; they shed their skins and come out younger than when they went to sleep. The really
old ones remember how vampires used to put werewolves into slavery. Remember the story of the
Minotaur? Crete used to be the center of civilization, and the vampires ran the show. The volcanic
eruption that ended the Minoan civilization wasnt natural, either. Werewolf magic, man. Dont mess
with them. Dont even go near them.

A couple years ago, back when I was still doing bloodmuggings, I tried to take down this guy. Regular
looking, mostly, though he was well-dressed for someone wandering around downtown late at night.
Well, he didn't have any blood. I got him right on the neck, and he was empty. Not just blood, bones,
muscles, the whole deal. He was just this empty skin, walking around. Well, he and I backed up, and I
don't know which one of us was more freaked out. He and I ran off in opposite directions, and I never
saw the guy again.

There's this central Asian country that was part of the former Soviet Union that's full of werewolves.
Velkostan or something, I forget. Anyway, they've got this deal that Peter the Great made with their
chief that they can live openly and not be persecuted, as long as they send some of their guys to serve
the Czar. Every Russian leader since then has kept the agreement until Boris Yeltsin. I heard Putin is

trying to make a new deal, but by now half of 'em have joined Al-Quaeda, and the other half joined the
Russian mob.

Psychics are just people whose ghosts aren't screwed on too tight.

Wizards are among us. They've got ancient rituals and spells that can make us see them as vampires -- it
just takes a little vampire blood each sunset, and then bam, they're growing fangs, triggering the old
fight-or-flight, even smoldering a bit in sunlight for realism's sake. Why do they do it? Well, a bunch of
them have pretty subtle mind control spells that work on us just fine. They've already infiltrated every
branch of every human government on Earth, and they've been working on us for the past couple of
centuries. And when they get control over the local Invictus, or Ordo, or whatever they go for this time,
they can use us as shock troops to fight their enemy wizards, or slaves to make them rich, or just as lab
experiments. Seriously, I know a guy who knows a guy who nearly got dissected on one of their weird
altars. Barely made it out alive.

You know, man, I heard from a guy I know back East somewhere - last I heard was he was in Boston anyway, he found that a group of bums, in NYC, I think, weren't human. That's right. They weren't
vampires or werewolves either, they were - get this - big freaking insects, mimicking human appearance.
He was about to grab one of them for a bite, watching from somewhere they didn't see him, and he saw
it grab a kid, and the whole group ate it.

Way I hear, that's almost true. There're people - corpses, really - filled with insects that look like
roaches. They stay away from "normal" people, but still hang around in cities, in, you know, the
warzones. You can't feed on them, the blood is like that of someone dead, and the bugs inside them will
attack you.

Fine, I'll tell you...just don't say I didn't warn you.

A few years back, when I was first changed, I found this guy in Ft. Collins. I was hungry, so I mugged his
ass, dragged him into an alley, bit down on his neck...
There wasn't blood. It was just wires, circuits. I got a shock to my system, and the guy got up and walked
away like nothing ever happened. Ever since, I think every phone I use is tapped...EVERY phone.

I also heard about devil cats--strays that have really long tails. They're smart--like, people smart. They
prowl around the streets, and they love killing vampires. Their claws are really sharp...

Now Vermont... shit, never go near that place. They have these backwood hicks who call themselves
the "Mountain Boys" or some crap like that.
The bastards burn any kindred who enter their land. My sire's sire told me they been around
Washington's time.


In certain parts of the world, they've got a sort of... different type of vampire. I know it sounds weird, but
basically, they're normal people who turn into some kind of flying bloodsucking monster. In some parts
of Asia, see, they've got these things that are normal people by day, but at night, their fuckingheads
come off, trailing a big ol' sack of guts behind it, and fly around drinking people's blood. In a whole
bunch of little nowhere countries-the Caribbean, the more godforsaken parts of South America and

Africa-they say there are vampires that are witches that shed their skin, or weird little creatures kept in
a bottle, and they turn into some kind of will o' the whisp that flies around and sucks blood. Yeah, yeah,
they're in Ireland, too. There are a lot of stories, too, from everyone from Italy to Russia to fucking
ancient Babylon, about flying vampire birds.
I'm not sure exactly why they seem to come in such a weird variety of shapes, but I still think that
they're all related, somehow. First off, they're all normal people during the day. Second, they all turn
into flying bloodsucking monsters at night. Oh, and third? They hate Kindred. I don't think they're any
kind of vampire at all; I've never heard of them using any of our Disciplines, plus they're supposed to
walk around in the sunlight. They're just some kind of crazy fucking monster that eats blood. I don't
know why they hate us, maybe just because we're competition. But there are definitely some parts of the
world you should stay out of, and I think these crazy creepy fucking things are one of the reasons we
stick to the cities-yeah, I know, nobody talks about them much, but I figure a lot of Kindred who tried
to get by alone in little nowhere places get picked off by these things. Believe me, if you ever find
yourself in some piece-of-shit island village and a little kid tells you to watch out for a "loogaroo," haul
ass to someplace with streetlamps and indoor plumbing.
Oh, and speaking of Ireland? They've got some kind of weird fucked-up vampire thing, too, and it's not
a vampire. I was travelling through the woods outside one of those rinky-dink, toorah-loorah-let's-getpiss-drunk country towns. Yeah, I half-expected a hobbit to walk out from under a hill. I was walking
through the woods when I found this vampire, or that's what I thought he was, just munching away on a
guy. Drinking blood out of the stump of the guy's torn-off arm, just slurping and being really gross and
messy about it. Didn't even seem to care if anyone saw him. The thing turned around and looked at me,
and it was fucking weird. He was pale, sure, and his skin was kinda rubbery. He was covered in blood
and dressed in nasty, filthy brown rags that must've been completely stained with his leftovers. I thought
he must have been one of those Nosferatu, y'know, the kind that Aleister won't invite to his parties.
But then I looked closer-you know I've got the sight, right? And I saw that this thing wasn't Kindred at
all. First off, I saw that it wasn't just drinking the blood, it was eating the flesh. The arm I'd missed
earlier was lying on the ground, picked clean down to the bone. I looked at him close, and the fucker
didn't even have any fangs, just these nasty, grey flat chompers that looked like they belonged on a
horse. But the real kicker came when I realized that the bastard thing had a heartbeat. He saw me
looking at him, and he didn't even seem to mind-just laughed his ass off, pulled out this nasty
bloodstained little rag and tied it around his head, and then he took off. I didn't dare follow him into
those woods.

You think that's bad? There's these guys I heard about down in Mexico. "Goat Suckers", they call 'em.
They'll slice a goat's belly open and slurp out the liver. Thing is, occasionally, a few of them migrate up
north, some even find their way into the cities. And we don't have a lot of goats lying around. The
recent illegal immigrant hullaballo? All just Kindred in Government positions trying to keep the
competition down, the Masquerade up, and the livers where they belong.

If you submerge a body entirely in vitae for an entire month, it becomes a zombie. You can't control it
or anything. It just shuffles around and tries to kill humans and eat their flesh.

You know werewolves, right? I found out where they got all their powers from. They're Gangrel ghouls,
right, who managed to steal all of their master's blood, and even managed to steal their Beast. But living
flesh responds differently to a Beast than dead flesh. It breaks free, and twists their body; they're
Gangrel, so it mixes the living form with the ability they have to take the shape of a wolf, producing the

classic "wolfman". Most of them can beat it down, most of the time, like we can, and can mix man and
wolf freely, but it always wants to break free. It wants to suck our blood.

There was this Haunt I knew back in Philadelphia, who told me there's a way to give Vitae to ghosts makes 'em solid somehow. They not like ghouls, you can't bind 'em or shit like that, but they want to
come back bad enough they'll do you favours for it. He didn't tell me how though, bastard.

I heard that, long ago, Dracula made a deal with a group of werewolves to protect his living
descendants. While the House of Draculesti no longer rules Wallachia, there are still descendants living
to this day, under different names. The problem is, a week ago a group of mages raided one of the
Order's library, and stole a lot of old documents, apparently looking for the "Blood of the Dragon". So
we need to find those werewolves soon, before the warlocks get to them.

Once when I was sneaking into the zoo to get ahold of a chimp--yeah, I'll tell you later--I saw this kine
there. He was sneaking in to a rhino's cage, used a tranquilizer gun to put it to sleep, and then, when it
finally got laid down and calm...went over to it and put his mouth over it's nostril...and started
breathing in. After a few minutes, it just kinda...died. Like he was stealing it's breath...he seemed
really...excited after that. Moved faster, breathed harder.
What, go after his blood? What am I, suicidal?


Vampires never appear in mirrors. Ever.

You ever felt like you were being watched, but there's nobody around? There's somebody around all
right, and I'm not talkin' no peepin' Tom. Lights on the phones, knobs on stereos, the buttons on your
sweater? Eyes. I'm serious, man. Anything even remotely round is an eye, watching your every move.
The lights in the ceiling, the round buttons at the top of your keyboard, and the erasers at the end of
every pencil, all eyes, all watching you. I dunno who's watching, but they know everything about you.
You, me, and everyone. Me? Personally, I sleep in a blank room with everything squared off. That way
you know you can at least cry yourself to sleep in peace.

They say that if you leave the head of a policeman and a glass of milk in your haven on Christmas
Morning, you'll have good luck all next year.

No way, man, it's not like that, they're not really vampires, they just drink blood and...other stuff...for
kicks. You see, it's not from Earth, it's something older. The bloodline? No, man, I meant Asia. The


One night in a bar I ran into another vampire. It was weird... I didn't get the usual fight-or-flight vibe,
but I just knew he was one of us. So I go over and introduce myself, and he looks at me like he has no
clue why I'd pick him out of the crowd. Kind of a little guy, but scrawny and sorta looked like he'd had a
rough decade or so.
Anyway, I sit down, we talk for a while about mortal-type crap, and finally he turns to face me... like,
fully. He was getting a good look, and I kinda paused as he was pretty intense and totally different than

Then he says, "I remember you. You're Harvey, begat by Thomas, begat by Yolinda, begat by Joseph,
begat by Benjamin, begat by Iyrstal, begat by Ballan, begat by..." and then he just looked through me a
moment, glanced in the mirror a minute like he was still checking that he was there, and left.
I was too blown away to go after him, and by the time I left the bar he was just gone.
But man, fuck if he wasn't right all the way up to Joseph! After that? Well, that's the creepy thing
man... Joseph is somewhere over two thousand years old. Joseph remembers Rome, but not his sire.

Some vampires have a normal reflection. I hear they've got extra-potent souls, and if you diablerize 'em,
you get extra power. I've never tried it, though.

There are silver train tracks in the old part of town. The bums mill about them but won't approach.

Every vampire gets one do-over, one chance at the moment of his destruction to redo a single moment
of unlife. It rarely helps.

If two vampires get a legitimate marriage, with the church and everything and do it for the right reasons
with all the right rituals, they don't just become one flesh, but one Blood. The childe of one is the
childe of the other. Their old blood sympathies fall away. I used to be married like that, but it was

Interesting factoid: Elders can't read things in italics. I don't even think that they can see them. The
guys who work for them can, though, but the old dudes don't like to be reminded of things they've lost,
so you can usually count it as secure. Usually.

Nicotine addiction is the worst. Other addictions are broken by the Embrace, but nicotine is stronger
even than the Blood.

You know how a bit of the soul gets transmitted through the blood? Well, I don't know how either, but
there's a top-secret government facility where they're doing experiments with stem cells and making
them split into twins, because twins have seperate souls. And then they're splitting a bunch of blood
cells from those. So they got a bank with thousands of souls in it, but I don't know what they're using it

Anyone who sleeps with a U.S. wheat penny over each eye cannot be fed upon nor effected in any
meaningful way by a vampire. Of course, the wheat pennies have to have been carried around for a
while in the pocket of a priest. Who was alive when wheat pennies were still in circulation. And, there's
nothing saying a minion of a vampire couldn't still get to you. And... well, I sleep with a shotgun.

Every person ever born on February 29th can never be blood bound or made into a ghoul. No one who
has ever become a vampire was ever born or created on February 29th. What? Think that's just
statistics? Fine, go prove me wrong.

The Chinese vampires have a story that claims that our souls are really locked up in cages in hell,
unable to move on to their proper karmic destiny.

You hear of Shadow Ebay? It's a secret online auction where you can buy ANYTHING. I'm not kidding.

You want a Russian armored personel carrier? Bam, Shadow Ebay. You want a virgin concubine
schooled in the devious Eastern ways of pleasure? Bam, Shadow Ebay. You want holy relics, bones of
saints? A stake made from the True Cross? Bam, Shadow Ebay. You want bootleg DVDs of famous NFL
games? Bam, Shadow Ebay.

In the 70's this underground chemist cooked up this kind of super-acid. It freaks mortals out, but does
something weird to vampires- it gives them creativity and a full pallet of emotions while it lasts. The
chemist is long gone, and the recipe lost, but the Daeva would kill to get their hands on it.

Vampires are compulsive liars. That's why our society is so fucked up.

I hear the real ruler of the city is an elder who had most of his body burned away permently by sort of
magic, but his head still survived. The other Elders keep him in an icebox and keep him well fed,
because they still need his advice and wisdom.

Need to lay low? Got the authorities on your back, the mortal ones we don't own? Might help if you
faked your own death.
I know this guy (here, I'll write his mobile number on your napkin) who can get you a body. Yes, I know
you can get a body yourself, (that's what got you into this pickle in the first place) but not like this.
YOUR body. Perfect in every way, fingerprints, DNA, the works.
No I don't know how (and frankly I don't want to). Yes, I know that doesn't look like a real phone
number but (trust me on this) it'll work. Just make sure you have 150 Gs in cash when you meet up.

You ever hear some crap about 'true names'? It ain't crap, if you find one out and change it into a phone
number, you can hear everything they're thinking. Only problem is, if they've got caller ID they'll know
your true name too.

Every six minutes, between 6 p.m. and midnight, between June and December, a vampire dies in

The more messed up you are, the faster your blood'll thick up. Don't fuck with any of the real weird guysthey've got powers you've never heard of, and they probably think you're a snack, too.

Most American public high schools have special night programs for vampires who were embraced
young. It's part of some law that got passed in the seventies that a public school has to be able to
accomodate any person under twenty two. One of the people who was pushing it was one of us, and he
quietly worked that into the fine print. Of course, it's been hell to get it past the Invictus and keep the
human students and most of the faculty from finding out, but apparently, they've managed.

There's a blind guy outside a cafe. If you give him your sight for a day he'll give you his in return. Who
knows what you can see with those dead eyes...

You ever see a vampire with blue eyes? No, me neither.

There's a guy going around, with a strange mark on his forehead. I don't know why, but every time a
vampire meets him, he goes down on his knees and worships him. Never met him, but I know one who
did. It really freaked him out.

Before 1900, vampires really couldn't cross running water. What happened to change it?

Have you ever seen an elder walk without a cane? Or a top hat?

I knew a guy way back that liked to feed on children between 6 and 12. Said they tasted 'fresher'. Sick
Bastard. Anyway, he once told me that it wasn't all that easy to hunt like that. Remember, when you
were a kid and still afraid of the dark, you used to bury yourself within your bedsheets? On some
subconscious (or even conscious) level, you believed it protected you from things that go bump in the
night. Well, it really does. If you really believe in it, and if only your head sticks out of the protective
cover of the sheets, nothing can touch you. I'm telling you what he said, 's the truth!
Me, during the day, I sleep in my old snoopy fluffy bedsheets. Safer that way.

The teeth of draugr are an aphrodisiac in Oslo.

If you go to Lincoln's memorial on either the day he was shot or his birthday, give a blood drop and
recite the constitution, you will hear a voice.
It is Lincoln and he will give you a task. It might seem impossible, but there's always a slim chance.
Do it, and any form of enslavement or bondage will be gone. A burn in the shape of a broken chain will
appear on you, and you can't be controlled until it heals. It heals rather slow too.

Fill an American Girls doll with the blood of a little girl and a trace of vitae and you can talk to a kid
from the era it depicts.
Now we just gotta wait for them to do those future dolls I showed to the lead designer.

Crushed Tums and garlic soothes and coats the stomach, allowing kindred to consume mortal food and
put off purging for hours, even the next day!

I heard from this guy that heard this from Count F'ing Dracula hisself... There's this guy who started
collecting these rumours and putting them up online, getting other people to post theirs as well. And he
disappeared about a year ago. One night here, next night gone. But since then... every rumour he posted
himself has become verifiable fact. Even the ones that contradict each other. They're like verifiable
church canon.


A man came up to me once. Says he knows all about me, what I am, what I do. I laugh it off, right? Just
some nut. Street's full of 'em. Then he tells me my full name, my real name, date of birth, date of (brief)
death, starts rattling off the names of everyone I've ever killed feeding. He tells me he knows them all.
He's met 'em. He wants to take me to meet 'em.
I ran. I've never run faster in my unlife. I thank the Blood for the speed it gives me. But you know, on
the loneliest nights, when it's just the wind howling and just me in the dark, I think about him. I
wonder... what if I had gone with him?
What if he comes back?

They say that he has come back in Israel, just looking around, for now. They say if he sees one of us, we
will be judged at that moment.

Forsaken Apocrypha


















































Awakened Secrets


When some mages undergo an Awakening, they really Wake Up. They remember the Watchtower, and
the journey, but everything before that... all a dream. They wake up on park benches, in morgue slabs,
hanging from trees, no memory at all. That's why so many mages break from Sleeper societythey were
never there the first place.

People with the all the three letter "a", "j", and "k" in their names never Awaken.
You know why? These aren't real letters. The Abyss created them when it shallowed the real ones.
People and things with all three accumulate enough of the Abyss' essence to not actually be real...

Don't let a person about to Awake play an MMORPG. I watched a former acquantence of mine do it.
Right as he seemed to sign his name, you know, all of a sudden... he slumped down and blinked. He
continued to play. So, I looked at him with my magey eyes. His soul, which had had a burning ember of
potential... it was completely dark. COMPLETELY.
Fuck the Internet. It's eating people's souls. And ours. Literally.

There's an organization that keeps shaolin monks and other spirtual types from waking up, otherwise
most of those folks would become mages. If there was a clear way to do it we wouldn't be so special

The Wachowski brothers are avatars of the Oracles, sent here to guide more Sleepers to the
Watchtowers. What, haven't you noticed how many more Awakenings there have been since The
Matrix came out?


A friend of mine in the Mysterium knows a mage who knows a mage who knows an Archmaster who
knows a rote that lets one revisit the Supernal Realms. It only works in the presence of someone
undergoing an Awakening though. It's a technique of the Mind Arcanum that basically lets you "hitch
a ride" with them astrally as they follow their path to a Watchtower.
Doesn't get used that often because Awakenings are rare and finding someone right when they start to
experience one is pretty tough, but the reward for doing so is pretty nifty. Supposedly the Archmaster
who knows this rote has managed to sign his name on at least two other Watchtowers, and now not
only a Magistos, but an Acanthus and Moros as well, with the affinity for all of their arcana.

Awakening is a disease. Its not healthy. Luckily its not that infectious and easily fought off. Why do you
think those we call Sleepers are so many and the Awakened so few? We're the ones who succumbed to
the infection. The Abyss is merely the world's antibodies...

The Awakening "Epiphanies" that everyone has been having are actually a (probably benevolent) plot
resulting from the cooperation of the government's Freedom of Religion Bureau and those guys who
publish the Watchtower magazine. You know... Those guys. Ahem.

Your pre-Awakening life is a lie. We are called the awakened because we did just that. One day, out of
nowhere, you awoke, with a false history and a fake place in your friends' and relatives' lives.
Perhaps we do not journey to the Watchtower, but from it.

Ever hear about those who underwent their Awakening and never came back?

Every time God sneezes someone Awakens. That's right, we basically get out powers from cosmic snot.


There's a DVD somewhere out there that's actually a Supernal artifact. It looks like a normal movie
initially, but the opening credits gradually shift from English (or whatever langauge the movie its
supposed to be is in) to High Speech. Once that occurs any sleeper watching will feel an overwhelming
urge to watch the entire thing in its entirety no matter what. The movie itself starts off like the actual
movie it's supposed to be, but then diverges from the plot as events occur that send the protagonists on
a journey that eventually leads them to a Watchtower.
Now here's the thing which makes it more than just a curiosity. Apparently every sleeper who watches
it the whole way through either awakens or dies once the end credits roll. One time it got shown at an
anime club meeting in Seattle and by the end there were six new mages and a dozen corpses with no
discernable cause of death. Sleepwalkers don't feel compelled to watch it but any that did always
awakened. Doesn't seem to do anything to anyone Awakened except elicit a strong sense of deja vu and
the perception something magical is occuring. Other than that, it seems to have no effect on mages in
the audience.
No one has succesfully managed to keep possession of the thing for detailed analysis. Whenever
someone has tried to eject it, no matter after its over or while in mid-play, the artifact is no longer
there. And sometime later it will be found on another shelf, in the guise of a different movie, waiting to
be played for a new audience.


You know how they say that silver can kill a werewolf, sunlight can pulverise a vampire, iron can make
a fae burn and flee and stuff? Well, actually, we who were called to the Supernal Realms also got a bane
for violating the dragon nest a long time ago: bones of dragons. It make you age, like, 1000 times faster.
Okay, you may think you will not fall on it everyday. Now stop laughing, and just remember to never
accept any kind of rendezvous in any "dinosaur exposition" EVER.

Did you ever wonder where the Dragons went after they left Atlantis? I'll give you a hint: Why do you
think NASA is ending the Hubble program? They -found- them. And they're coming back.

It said it collects the dragon's scales . . .but than why is it killing the Awakened?


Most sceptics believe today that Atlantis only existed inside Plato's head. Well I've heard that he's
buried outside ancient Smyrna in today's Turkey. If one could get something like a fragment of his
dialogue Critias it could the sympathethic component needed to find his body. If you crack open his
skull it is said that you can spy the ancient Atlantis!

A purportedly Atlantean text has been discovered that is verifiably over five-thousand years old. The
date within the book, however, reads 2010 AD. And the writing itself is modern Japanese.

Atlantis wasn't an island. It was a continent. Pangaea, to be specific. The continents as they exist today
didn't form over millions of years, but rather over 40 days and 40 nights, during the Great Flood that
followed the destruction of the Celestial Ladder.

Next time you drink a Coke check the can's reflection, there's Atlantean runes hidden in the cursive
script. Every can's a different text. Every. Single. Can.

Never, ever, try this with a can of New Coke. For the love of god, just don't.

Plato wasn't a person. He was a manifestation of the ancient spirit-being of Atlantis itself, and he was
here to tell us something. His secret writings are hidden in plain sight; when you're ready, you'll find

There was this guy who searched for years to find the lost treasures of Atlantis... on day, he decided to
stop to randomly venture and to search for The Most Puissant and Prized Artifact of the Last World, so
he spent, like, a week on scrying ritual just to know WHAT was the most valued treasure of Atlantis.
After what, he sell all his material goods and you can find him under the bridge, there... if you ask him
what it was, he will answer something about a sword, once every 40 strikes, cut a head... before falling in

I've heard that still Atlantis exists - on the internet. It currently masquerades as a porn site.
Ever wonder why porn is so popular on the 'net? Its Mages seeking Atlantis.

You idiots! You think Atlantis exists in the past?


What? You believe in Atlantis at all? Heh.

The Orders actually date back to Rome, when a number of Mages first gathered together into
organizations larger than individual Cabals. Atlantis started off not as an origin myth but as a shared

mythology borrowed from Plato. It was designed to help curb inter-Order violence, provide a common
reference point for cooperation, and serve as a mystically significant tool.
It probably wouldn't have lasted that long at all, but some of the greatest Archmasters came out of these
initial alliances and over time the myth of shared origin got stronger and people mostly forgot its
original origin.
Mages come from the Watchtowers, but we have no idea who created them or why and what purpose
they serve.


Atlantis wasn't just a city. It was The City. Not only was it the locus of all Mages, it was also... Aware
and Awake.
It took steps to survive.
You can still find It in the parts of any city. After all, It was a living thing...and It lives on in every city
on this plane. It wants to live and thrive and, if enough Awaken, to rebuild Itself.
Why do you think Mages only truly Awaken inside a city?
However, it's those that False Awake outside a city that are the real danger. Not the Exarchs, not the
Mad...but the False Awake.

Atlantis is only the city we remember - there are plenty of others.


You ever wondered why we're all so obsessed with Atlantis? I mean, it was supposedly just another
island in the ocean. Then everything happened, and we found ourselves smacked down to the Fallen
World. Ever notice the references? Atlantis was a floating city, man! I haven't got it all figured out yet,
but Atlantis is still with us. It fell from the sky, like Icarus, and crashed somewhere. The rumors seem to
say Eastern Europe was the final crash site for the main body.
Not only that, but smaller locales, the Mus, Lemurias, Thules, they've been crashing since then as the
magic keeps going out of the world. Tunguska was a truly tiny island crashing into Siberia.

Atlantis was created as a coverup for the real history of magic. Think there are glitches in the
established history? Those are where the original history that got overwritten struggles to force its way
back into memory.

Why were there only Kings who made the Watchtowers? Because their Queens ascended beyond such
petty concerns. Atlantis fell in one giant marital spat.


So me and my mystagogues friends were looking into this old Atlantean temple a month or so before,

right? And we figure it's just what you'd expect right out of some Indiana Jones flick -- temple guardians,
some kind of maze room, and the sweet payoff of an artifact straight from the dawn of civilization, right?
Well, the four of us went into the temple -- and I swear, it's been untouched, since, I don't know, before
the Europeans ever came over -- and it turns out there's only one room in the damn temple.
In the room were boxes and boxes of cans of Classic Coke.
I swear, I'm not making this up. I've been thinking about it. Coke is bottled in Atlanta, Georgia right?
And Atlanta -- I mean, given the name -- must have some kind of temporal sympathy with Atlantis...

What do you think the song "Stairway to Heaven" is really about?

Atlantis wasn't a city. It wasn't a time, and it wasn't a place. It was a possibility, a reality, a universe.
Things weren't that different to human eyes, but on a metaphysical level, everything was perfect. No
Fallen World, no Abyss, reality itself was defined by a thought, and everyone fooled themselves into
being sleepers. Then someone stopped fooling. And it all broke. And everything rebooted. And that's
the clusterfuck we have now. That's why they call it Paradox, you know.

You know Rockall? No? Listen to the shipping forecast. Rockall is a tiny speck of rock in the Atlantic,
200 miles from any living soul. It's a completely pointless non-entity. So why are the government so
keen on making sure it's legally part of the British Isles? Easy. It's the last remnant of Atlantis. Honestly Atlantis was in the north Atlantic, and that pissy little volcanic nub is the last remaining fragment of
the island. Iceland must on no account be alowed to lay claim to Rockall. When the Celestial Ladder
fell, the Volcanic calamity which destroyed Atlantis created Iceland - if Iceland ever controlled what's
left of Atlantis, it'd be the magical equivalent of mixing matter and antimatter.

Ok, listen. This is how it went, right? The Celestial Ladder is built, the Fall, blah blah blah. Atlantis
gets destroyed, kaput, goes missing, AWOL. The Abyss parks its ass by the curb. Notice something here?
Hello, Atlantis was the home of all magic. The source of the Supernal based on Earth. And some putz
went and screwed it all up and now all you've got is a hidden, screwed up Atlantis that wants its magic
back. Or as we call it, the Abyss. Am I right or am I right?


Hey, this your first time in a big city? Ah, I can understand it then. You backcountry types aren't used to
it. Envy you really sometimes. The fresh air, the peace - altogether a more agreeable proposition don't
you think?
Makes you think really. Why cities? The answer to that, my friend, or at least a possibility of an answer
is something I'm going to give you.
A while back, donkey's years ago, I was part of a cabal that operated here in London. It was mostly
Guardians, but I was there as a Mystagogue and there was a chap from the Arrows who'd sworn his aid
to us and a good thing too. We were all either Intelligence or Scotland Yard so we were all looking at
much the same sort of things and knew each other well professionally. We misused the resources of the
government to advance the causes of the mysteries and our magical arts to advance our country. A good
little set-up all in all and one that I had a lot of fun in even if it ended badly. I could tell you a great

many stories about that time but I digress. I do apologise.

Anyway one of the things we was keep an eye on what went on under London? What? Oh, do use the
brain God gave you boy, you'll find things remarkably easier if you do. The London Underground ring
any bells? Good grief, what do you think happens to all that sewage. Well there you go. A lot goes on
under London, more than most even amongst the knowledgeable know and we had our sticky little
fingers in every pie going as it were. One day we found out even we didn't know as much as we'd
thought though.
It started - I forget quite how actually, but we were chasing some Seer and during the course we found a
little side room unmarked on the maps and our maps were rather definitive. We took a look of course
after we finished the business off. Within was an antechamber of clearly Atlantean origin. Imagine, if
you will, my excitement when engravings on the wall turned out to be nothing more prosiac than a
street-map of sorts. A map that seemed to indicate that the doors in the room led to a far greater
complex. A vast one, something unlike any find I have ever heard of. We explored a little way only to
find it was in ill repair and many exits were blocked-off. So we went away and resolved to come back
and in the meantime, unbeknown to my companions I transcribed all I'd found out. I'll come back to
this in a moment. In brief, when we returned we were unable to gain entry. We spent a lot of time over
the next five years trying to figure out how until one day we noticed Seer spies on our tails. We turned
back and resolved to protect the sanctity of what we'd found destroyed them. Utterly. There were only
three of them but in those dark quarters making certain we'd got every last rat of them left me the sole
member of the Cabal. I left London as a place of too many painful memories and headed off to Paris.
Yes, with my notes. It would not hurt you to learn patience. What I had deciphered seemed to indicate,
well, a grid of magic. Alas I am not well gifted in the covert sphere of Heaven but those amongst my
comrades who were agreed this could indeed be the case although of an extremely sophisticated case. To
summarise, London is built on a vast Atlantean complex that seems to be channeling power to the City.
Why? Who can say. Bridgewell-Jones seemed convinced that eventually if it channelled enough power
into the city it would somehow become a Atlantis. Certainly though, it explains why so many people
seek to come to London. That much magic? Even Sleepers feel that, although they don't realise it.
Did I find something like this in Paris? No, but I don't know Paris as well as I know dear London. But
I've found the gaps in the maps and the thick walls. There's something down there and I think we both
know what...


The Awakened never appear in mirrors. Ever. That thing staring back at you isn't your reflection.

Think about the Mastigos for a bit. Okay, there's the rest of us, we get our powers from faeries and
animal spirits and angels and ghosts... and then there's the Mastigos, who serve Hell itself. Yeah, I know
they call it Pandemonium, but it's Hell. Never trust 'em. The only reason they ever got accepted in
mage society as a whole is because they're so good at mindfucking anyone they talk to.

And just remember, another name for Hell is the Abyss.

They call us mages. Do you know the meaning of that word? Yes a Zoroastrian fire-priest of Atar. The

magoi were the front soldiers in the fight against "The Destructive Spirit" or Angra Mainu. The world is
dualistic boy, Gray is an abberration, the interaction between Black and White. There's no Middle
Ground in this fight, if we fail Angra Mainu's minions will make this existence into their image and
believe me boy, humanity will despair if that should happen.

Nearly every magician you see on TV or in Las Vegas is a mage. Siegfried and Roy, Penn and Teller,
Lance Burton, all of 'em. They're all in the same cabal and they can somehow harvest power from the
audience that watches them. Why do you think Vegas is so family friendly these days? Its because the
magicians have taken over so they can harvest more power from bigger audiences.

Not quite. It's just that they've figured out that you can do all kinds of weird shit in public, but as long
as they don't believe it, it won't call down the Abyss. They're still perfecting their techniques, but soon
enough, they'll teach the rest of us.
Man, the Veil's going apeshit. But ironically, you just can't make a famous magician... disappear.

Ivan Stang has it right, man. Dobbs is real, and only yetis can do magic. Are you a yeti? I am, man!
Chruch of the Subgenius Writings are the ancient Atlantean pathway to power! It's just all too
ridiculous for the Seers to discredit.
Yeah, that's right. Mana is Slack. Now, pass that pipe.


Never trust a Mastigos -- they're all killers.

Jack the Ripper was a Mastigos.
Before his Awakening, he was just another lonely Londoner. But one night he took a prostitute to bed,
and experienced there more than physical ecstasy -- an ecstasy of the soul, Awakening. And he wrote
his name on the watchtower of Hell -- and woke from his reverie with blood on his hands, the
watchtower having been the prostitute's body, the writing of his name accomplished with a knife.
He went a little mad after that, and tried four times to repeat the circumstances of his Awakening,
leaving the corpses of four more women for the police to baffle at. When he signed his letter to the
police "From Hell," he wasn't lying.
The Mastigos might look normal on the surface, but behind that face is the mind of a killer -- and if
you're looking at that face, his eyes are on you.

You know how if you put two mirrors across the hall from each other you get that infinite reflection
thingy? Sleepers are safe looking at that, but don't ever do it once you woke up, cause while your image
isn't as strong as you, give them a small army and they'll kill you and get out. All humans are right
handed, left handed ones are from the mirror world.

There was a preacher, a man from the Coalition of Southern Baptist Bishops even, found out about
magic. Even heard he'd gone Obirimos. When he turned around, he realized that he'd just been to

He's been trying to get back in since then. Even if he has to take us all with him.

The Acanthus Watchtower isn't real. Every magus signed up with the Arcadian Host is a changeling,
created to destroy the Atlanteans from within.

Orville Reddenbacher was one of us. Think about it, man.

There's a large conspiracy of mages scattered throughout the western half of the United States that are
trying to destroy the Quiescense through sheer brute force: by completing a ritual so huge and so
flamboyant, the Sleepers will have no choice but to believe that magic exists. Apparently, they're trying
to trigger the simultaneous eruption of five different volcanoes on the West Coast, at least a couple of
which are believed to be extinct. I think the plan's bollocks, personally, but apparently it's got the
Guardians all paranoid. So, a word to the Wise: if you value your hide, don't ever mention the Great
Ghost Dance around a Guardian.

I hear there's these people, they can do magic. Not like wicca or card tricks, real magic, like defy the
laws of physics right in front of you. My friend, he said one of his old girlfriends said she used to go out
with this guy, but they broke up when she walked in on him doing something really weird. Swear to
God. Thing is, she can't remember his name now. Or hers. Come to think of it, I can't remember who I
heard this from.

There's a psychiatrist who eats the memories of his patients. He says that he can find secrets of the
Abyss in the repressed memories that people want to be rid of. He cries himself to sleep every night.

All mages have two souls. That little voice you sometime hear in your head telling to do stuff or to not
do it? It's not just your trail of thought.

I have a friend who rebuilt an old WW1 biplane. Just for fun, y'know? And then, when we got together
a few years later, we were both mages and thought it might be fun to start an 'Awakened Aviator's
Club'. Magic planes of all sorts, races and competitions and stuff like that. It was very popular for a
while. It was at the fifth annual tournament that things started to go wrong. My friend, he'd put some
spell on the biplane. He won the races, but when I asked him what he did to it, he wouldn't answer. I
thought it was weird, so I snuck at night and had a look at the engine. And then the death started.

Pssst. You know those guys who call themselves "mages"? Aliens.
Only they don't know it.


You ever heard of the Silver Bridge collapsing in Point Pleasent back in '67? Mothmen and UFO's and
all that? A mage's family was on that bridge that night. All the weird sightings from around that time
are all from the Paradox that happened when the mage used his Time Arcanum to try to warn everyone.

Ripped a mighty good hole in the Abyss too, considering those sightings are still going on today. The
mage's shadow name?
Indrid Cold.
And what about the reports of Men in Black trying to cover the whole thing up? The Guardians of the
Veil must have fucked up bad to get the upper brass involved...

I'm telling you, I saw it. Every one of the members of the consilium has a barcode on their inner arm.
There was... a number under it, but every time I tried looking at one when they had their guard down, I
got this awful headache.

Charles Fort was a Mage, a Mystagogue, but I don't know his path, but if you're a member of the
Mysterium, you can subscribe to the Fortean Times at a 25% discount. On the other hand, there's a
curse laid over every issue that causes a headache for any Guardian of the Veil who picks it up.

Ever heard of Antony Gormley? No? Course not. Well, he's they guy that built the Angel of the North.
Well, he didn't actually build it, but he's the guy responsible for it. Anyway, he's one of us, an Obrimos
with the Libertines. And that statue of his, that's the first run on his new celestial ladder. Once he's got
it charged up with enough resonance, it's going to fly all the way back to the Aether. It wants to be with
the other angels. And Antony is going to ride along.


I heard this from Mike, that crazy guy who lives in the park. Yeah, he's Awakened, but doesn't associate
with any Orders. He said that he had a master, decades ago, who never once picked up a rote. Got
himself kicked out of both Silver Ladder and Free Council for it. He refused to be taught them, saying
that he would cast his own magic, not someone else's. He said that the rotes were what was causing
magic to become weaker, because we were casting the same spell over and over, wearing it out.
Well, Mike does some investigating of his mentor. Turns out the Silver Ladder expulsed him because he
refused to teach rotes, not learn them. He was a great Thyrsus apparently, really original, but wouldn't
commit anything to a rote. The guy Mike talked to was a Moros who got plugged into Spirit Mastery
from the old master.
The scary part is that the Free Council kicked him out for the same thing. Except the guy Mike talked
to was an Obrimos, who had been plugged into Death Mastery. In the Free Council records, he's a
Moros. In the Silver Ladder's he's a Thyrsus.
So Mike figures this all out, and heads over to the guy's place. The place hasn't been lived in for years,
but Mike finds a note with his true name on it, and under that is a bible, with the phrase "A new king
has risen" circled in blood.
Mike grimoired all his rotes and burned them, and since then has been trying to follow his master.
When I asked him how all his studies were going, he just smiled.

Have you ever heard of Baba Vanga? No? She was a seer. Maybe. No two people ever agree if she was
one of us, or one of them, or something else, or just a mortal charlatan. And no two people ever agree if
she could actually see the future. Y'know how these seers normally work out, a couple of lucky guesses
and nobody remembers the twenty duff ones before that. All the same, this year, I'm gonna be listening
out for assasinations...

The Free Council has Awakened a monkey. They found a way.
Problem is that it escaped and now walks among us unseen. It Awakened as a Mastigos with a wicked
command of the Mind Arcana...

There's a mage out there who ate a god, became immortal and now he controls which gods can affect
From the way things are now, I think he's cut them all off.

There is a cabal of mages out there who have figured out a way to make Proximi. Apparently before they
Awakened they all had backgrounds in genetic research. I don't know the specifics of their techniques
but supposedly it involves somehow inscribing certain phrases in High Speech into DNA sequences.
That's right, they figured out how to write rotes into someone's genes! They've genetically-engineering
Supernal sympathy!


There are some really weird things the Sleepers have been making lately that have enough sympathy
with the Supernal Realms to be used as magical tools. By any mage, not just those n00bs in the Free
Council. Like tractor tires. I'm serious any mage can dedicate a tractor tire as a magical tool. What?
No, of course I haven't tried it. How would I carry it around?

Atlantean runes drawn with silver permanent Sharpie markers are like ten times more potent than
Atlantean runes drawn with anything else.

It's impossible to actually create a mind with magic. Every time you make something that can think for
itself, you're taking its mind from somewhere else. You know, like coma patients or bums or whatever.
Zombies, of course, don't really need minds that are too advanced - they're stillborn babies.

Every time you cast a spell, it costs you a minute of your natural lifespan.

And every time you cast a spell to extend your natural lifespan, it costs someone else a minute of theirs.

Be careful using spells around places where young children have played over the course of years or
decades. Schools. Park playgrounds. These kids, their minds are so drenched in limitless imagination,
that the area itself can become the same way.
What happens? Let's just say that your spell works ...about fifty times more potently than you want it to.

Ya know how some mages will tell you magic's getting weaker, that in earlier times disciples could do
stuff only masters can do now? It's not getting weaker, it's running out. Yep, magic's a finite resource!
Every dram of Mana that leaks from a Hallow, every Imago you release as a spell, it's all draining away
the magical reserves.
And from what I'm hearing on the street, those reserves are almost dry...

Ever use a Life spell to, uh, increase your sexual prowess? Well don't. Ever. That's a possibility of a
Paradox in a region you don't even want to think about.
Oh, and magic used on your crotch is ALWAYS vulgar. Try it out if you don't believe me.

I heard from a friend that Prime and Forces used to be one single Arcana. Death and Fate, too. But that
something happened and they split. So, what happens when one of the 10 we have now split again?
What happens to the Watchtowers?


Hey, you ever meet the Mysterium mage Whispered Song in Chicago? Guy was a fricking thrice Master,
but he lost it a while back and turned into a raging alcoholic. I caught up with him a week or so ago,
and he told me that doing magic - get this - doing magic does not affect reality unless you ground
yourself to your reality by tying in the realms of Stygia and Aether.
What really happens is that your Watchtower draws you up into the Supernal Realms and puts you into
a different reality where the magic takes place. Said you can notice it if you're careful. Ya know, by
paying attention to paint colors in buildings and on cars and other sorts of weird things that may be
selected by whim. The more powerful the magic, the more things change, and that's why Sleeper
witnesses fuck everything up: their souls resist being transferred into a different reality. Anyway, he said
that there were an infinite number of realities, and, if you were careful, you could direct yourself to
realities that had specific past events, like Clinton winning the Democratic nomination in '92, which
was sort of a weird thing to say.


You heard of the Philosopher's Stone? Mages all over the world have been trying to make one since the
Dark Ages, but no one's ever succeeded--or if they have, they've kept quiet about it. The legend is that
a mage who carries the Stone becomes a walking, talking demesne: he's completely immune to
Paradoxes, no matter how much vulgar mojo he throws around, and so are any other mages nearby. The
Stone also boosts the bearer's power and skill, so if a wet-behind-the-ears novice like you or me were to
get it, he'd become as powerful as an Archmage. And if a real Archmage were to get his hands on it,
he'd be able to do things that are impossible, even for a mage; things like resurrecting the dead, or
making a continent rise from the ocean, or burning an entire city to cinders with a snap of his fingers.
So why hasn't anyone done this? Well, according to the legends, making a Philosopher's Stone is one of
the most horrible crimes a mage can commit, though they don't say why. On top of that, the legends
also say that the Stone is cursed by its very nature, and that any mage who makes one will die a horrible
death within the year. And seriously, if you heard that the guy next door was making the magical
equivalent of a tactical nuke, would YOU just sit there and let him do it? I know I wouldn't.

Tin foil hats really DO keep out mind controlling shit.

Never scry in a toilet bowl. The future you see will always be shitty.

The orders are telling you to make use of the High Speech, because it's the True Language of Reality,

yadda, yadda. All lies.

No, I don't use the High Speech any more. It's mind control.
Yes, really. High Speech was designed by the Seers, or the Exarchs, or someone else, I don't know. It's
another illusion, another way of controlling us. Whenever you use it, some part of you changes, and you
make yourself more of a servant to them.


There's no such thing as the Abyss. What screws up magic are the very Supernal Realms we're calling
down. Wanna know why?
All right, listen up - you ever wonder what a spell is? Yeah, yeah, pattern of power called down, yadda
yadda. But ask yourself this: What are the only patterns like that up there in the Supernal Realms in the
first place? That's right, it's their freakin' denizens. Theurge, right? Well, every spell you pull down is an
angel, man - kind of a little one, sure, but that's what it is and the rest of them up there are pissed at
being dragged down and enslaved, and strike back any way they can.
That's why Paradoxes get bigger with the 'spell' you're trying to cast, man. Bigger angel, more power to
screw you up. And the so-called 'Abyssal entity' that turns up when a wizard really fucks up? Bullshit,
uh-uh. It's his own spell, the angel he tried to call down, taking corporeal form to fuck with 'im.


Everybody's saying it: we're working in an age of mundane magic. Everything was bigger and better in
the past. Magic's running down. Same old rant. Why is magic so weak? The answer is a little odd: It's
not true. Magic today is more powerful than it's ever been, ask one of those thaumowhatsis guys who
study this sort of thing. The real question is, why are we so weak?
I heard some people blame it on dilution; they say ever since Adam and Eve people have been
degrading, spreading out some sort of divine essence. But that's just religious baloney, you ask me. The
real reason? Magic's got so powerful, we can't trust it. We have to keep it tightly locked down with
rituals and safety margins and things, or it'll burn us up.
But if you don't care what happens to you afterwards, who knows what you could do?


Hey! You know how the Libertines keep on insisting that humanity is inherently magical, and that
there's a spark of the Supernal in everyone of us?
Sure, sure. There's evidence to the contrary. Paradoxes are tougher with people around. Disbelief. That
kind of thing.
Still, fact is - the Free Council is right. Magic is us. People. Everyone of us. A spell. That's what we are.
You don't believe me? You're Obrimos. Try dispelling a person and see what happens.

Or rather, don't try it.

The video game DOOM is really a fictionalised account of a prophecy one of the developers had (he
was an Awakened specialising in Death magic).
The prophecy foretold what the birth of the ultimate magic would entail for humanity.

Tea makes the very best tass, but it's not quite that simple. At this rarified and subtle height of tass
production, one has to know in advance what the Mana will be used for. For Spirit magic, you want
Lapsang Souchong, Prime is worked best with a solid Assam tass, and Obrimos will need that and
Oolong for Forces. Casting Life magic is best powered by Rooibos tea, it's the blood colour, you see. As
for Earl Grey, I would have thought that's obvious: Fate.

Any instance when you want to do heavy Time sorcery, have chamomile with crushed caffeine pills or
even pep-pills if needed. The contradiction will be a big boost, although it will run you ragged.


A guy in a pub told me there's a sixth Watchtower. It's set in some scenic green countryside, and from
its balconies you can make out villages and people working in the fields. Above its doors is written that
this is the "Realm of Men" - what the hell are we supposed to be then?

Who are we to think that there are only 5 watchtowers? I was in the South American jungle once,
many years ago. There were some old artifacts. Scrolls and inscriptions. There are 5 other watchtowers.
Dark shadows of the ones we know. The powers they speak of are unbelievable... Maddening... Scary...

Ever tried to create a diamond through alchemy? Yeah, harder than it should be, right? See, there's a
cabal that are trying to construct a Diamond Watchtower on this side of the abyss. And they don't want
anyone messing with their plans, so they managed to put blockers on making diamonds. DeBeers? Their
dummy group that distributes diamonds in a manner that will cover the world with a giant sigil. And
one day, when they've got it aligned properly, they'll breach the abyss. At least, that's what they said.


You can kill more ants in the nest than you can at the picnic.. Just do what an exterminator does, use
poisoned bait which the workers will bring back to the nest and poison all their sisters, and the queen.
I've been thinking a lot about that lately...
I think that the Banishers have it right. It's not that they haven't fully Awakened.. it's that they have
seen our "Awakening" for what it is. WE are the workers carrying the poison back to the nest. The
Watchtowers.. are fucking roach motels. We are dupes, spreading the seeds of the Abyss unwittingly as
we munch on our poisoned bait. We are tools being used to destroy the world of the sleepers, and to feed
the Abyss.

Five Towers formed by five Atlantean Kings? Don't make me laugh, it's all a bunch of lies told by the

Orders. Look, the Five Towers are naturally occurring as the Supernal Realm tries to reestablish contact
with the real worlds and reunite them. There are two more "normal" realms, which the Mysterium
refuses to talk about. The first is formed from an outside circle connecting all the subtle arcana, and the
second is formed from the inside pentagram connecting all the gross arcana. The crazy thing is, I hear
that the followers of those Watchtowers don't seem to have any weak arcana.


You shouldn't take everything they Orders teach at face value, really. All this talk of hidden mystic
symbolic truths and you thought they'd lay it all out for us? Think they could even if they wanted to?
Alright, you want an example, what about the Watchtowers. When we carve our names on them we're
not just signing up as Awakened, oh no. For starters, you ever notice that first thing we do afterwards is
give up the names we signed? It's a sacrifice, and if you think about how much Mana we get from
Scouring our bodies a little, the idea of Scouring our names away should give you the shivers.
What are the Watchtowers doing with all that power? Well, my buddy, he thinks the Oracles use it in
their fight with the Exarchs. Us Awakening is just a side effect, the Oracles really made the towers so
their people could still support them. I don't buy it. See, I figure the bond has to work both ways. The
Watchtowers lift us to the Supernal, but we tether them to the Fallen. Every living Awakened is a rope
connecting the two world and the Watchtowers are pulling them together again. The point of
civilization is to increase the global population enough so there are enough living Awakened to finish
the job.
Oh yeah, and one more thing. If that's true, then the real servents of the Abyss would be trying to kill as
many Awakened as they can. Sounds a lot like the Banishers, don't it? Way I figure they're the poor
souls who get lost on the way to the Watchtowers and fall into the Abyss, and the Abyss twists them
inside out into nice little mage killers. So watch yourself.

There's a collection of five P.O. boxes scattered across the globe that correspond to the Watchtowers. If
you pay attention to the symbolic connotations of each tower, you can actually figure out where the
P.O. box for say, the tower of the realm of Arcadia is. The funny thing is that every so often, you get
mail from those places.

Have you seen three men named Bill? They all look the same, have the same memories of their past up
to September 23, 2000, but entirely different fates after that date. Rumor is, they're the result of a weird
astrological situation where the watchtowers of the Acanthus, Mastigos and Moros all overlapped. All I
know is everyone who gets near one starts experiencing deja vu and seeing their own dopplegangers

Read The Waste Land sometime. Yeah, that one poem Eliot wrote. The thing is, Eliot was a mage
himself, but no one knows his path. Now, The Waste Land has five parts to it. I've got a friend in the
Mysterium who figures that each part corresponds to one of the Watchtowers. Once he figures it out,
we'll be able to... shit, be able to know crazy stuff.

Buddy, the Walk of Fame isn't a Free Council ritual. It's a Watchtower. A back up one, in fact. They've
been building it since the 30's in case the Seers figure out how to smash one of the current five. I heard
tell that back during the Great Depression, a Free Council Acanthus looked into the future and saw the

Exarchs standing around one of the Watchtowers, tearing it down. Only problem is, he wasn't sure
which one it was.

Did you ever see the miniseries The Lost Room? It was actually a thinly-concealed docudrama about
two factions fighting over artifacts of great power. Many people think the Event was a new Watchtower

No one really writes their names on the Watchtowers. It's a collective fake-out of the highest
proportions. We want to leave our mark, we want to make that change. But the truth is...
All our names are already there.

Of course they are. It's how they control us. When you're undergoing your Awakening, you're scraping
your name off the tower. What makes us Awakened special is that we are not bound by the laws of the
Supernal, as dictated by the Exarchs.


Back in 1400, the Black Death nearly wiped out all of Europe. That was when the Watchtower of the
Lead Coin fell to the Exarchs. The Watchtower of the Golden Key fell some time between 1095 and
1727 - that's right, the Crusades. You're catching on. All in all, only the Tower of the Iron Gauntlet
and the Tower of the Lunargent Coin remain free.
What do you mean, 'but you're a Moros'? Did I ever say that all the mages of those watchtowers were
agents of the Exarchs? Don't be ridiculous. The Fallen World is far too distant from the Supernal Realm
for the Exarchs to so blatantly manipulate us. But I am saying to be careful of those of us empowered by
the fallen towers. You never know when the Exarchs might be... influencing us.
Even me, my student. Even me.

There's these stories about the Watchtowers tying the Fallen and Supernal together, right? Well, have
you ever squeezed a water balloon? That's right, what if the Abyss breaks one day?


You know, everyone thinks Hallows are a good thing, but where's the power come from, man? Those
things are wounds - power seeps out from the Supernal Realms and never gets replaced. People think
magic's weaker now than it was once 'cause too many Sleepers know about it, but that ain't it, man;
every mana-draining ritual you do makes the heavens that much weaker.

The Supernal Realm is a living thing. The Abyss is its immune system. Humanity is but the tool of an
old hunter who seeks to devour the Realm. Whenever a mage makes contact with the Supernal, it
weakens. After enough Awakenings, the Hunter will devour us all.


You've heard the Masters claim that it's impossible for anyone to enter the Supernal since the Fall, right?

That's a big fat lie.

Have you ever heard about the Anasazi tribe of Native Americans? They all vanished, right? Now think
about where they must have vanished to.
I don't know how it's possible, but there must be some gateways between the Supernal and the Fallen.
And Lord knows that I'm going to find them!


You ever hear about the Roanoke colony? How they all disappeared when none of their supply ships
came for a few years. They left a sign saying Croatoa, so everyone assumed that it was some Natives
from that tribe that tribe that did them in. Well, that's all bullshit. The Native Americans knew the
way to the Supernal Realm. Why do you think the White Man pushed so hard to wipe them all out?
Because they knew the way and they were willing to share their secret. Until the Masters made damned
good and sure that they'd have a good reason to hate all the folks coming to the New World. You ever
think about that name and what it might really mean. Anyways, Croaota isn't a warning man, it's a road
sign. It's a finger pointing us in the right direction. The Masters did a good job of burying the secret
under centuries of blood and betrayal, but I'm gonna figure it out. And Croatoa is the place to start.


Can't you hear it? If you listen really carefully you can hear the secret key to the Supernal Realm on the
wind. It goes like this:
"Chapi Chapo, Patapo. Chapo Chapi, Patapi. Biribibi Rabada dada dada dada !! Pacha pacho, Pitipo.
Pacho pacha, Pitipa. Biribibirabadadida. La, la la la la la, la la la, La, la la la la la la la, La la la la la.
Chapi Chapo, Patapo. Chapo chapi, Patapi. Biribibi Rabada dada. Pacha pacho, Pitipo. Pacho pacha,
Pitipa. Biribibirabadadida."
Once this is translated I'll be able to enter the Supernal Realms. Hahahahaha.

Hey guy, you probably have already listen to that stuff about how the Hallows are more usual and more
puissant as you go higher in altitude, and how it becomes shittier under sea level ? Well, strangely
enough, I have been told that, after a kilometer under sea level, the tendency go the other way and that
hallows become puissant again. And, there, they are even MORE puissant, as their is no punks drinking
at them all day long... like, their is perhaps more mojo in the Marianes Rift than every mojo that has
ever been used before ! My theory about it is that, by going under, you can join the Supernal Realms by
the backdoor, without the Abyss between... Well, of course, there are thousands of kilometer of rocks
and magma and nuclear reaction and stuff, instead...


There aren't 5 supernal realms, there are 22. What do you think that tree of life means? Think about it
man, there are ten arcana, each path is dominated by two arcana, and each path is represented by one of
the 22 major arcana tarot cards. There are ten spheres on the tree of life, each path on the tree of life
links two of these spheres, and there are 22 paths between them. You do the math.

So why hasn't anyone been to the other 17? Because there are no Watchtowers there, so you can't get
there from the Fallen. The real question is, what happened to the Oracles before they could build the
other 17 towers? And what's living in the 17 now?


There are five Supernal Realms. So why do we have ten Arcanum? Sure, one's subtle and one's gross...
it's a lie. There's only really five ways to power. The extra training they make you do is just meant to
keep you distracted from the truth...
I hear there's only one actual Arcanum, flowing from a hidden Realm, and the Supernal Realms are just
echoes of that higher truth.
They say that Realm has been hidden somewhere else in reality. It was where the Celestial Ladder was
rooted, and when that crumbled, it was ripped from the Heavens. It might be somewhere in the Abyss...
or even in the Lower Depths.


Accursed? Scelestus? Tainted? Me? Are you so blind? So mummified in your own dogma?
Give it a moment's worth of thought, fool! Which of us serves a force so alien to the world that even a
mortal's line of sight unravels it? Which of us serves a force that plucks men from the world against their
will, and sends them back brimming over with its influence? Which of us serves an invader into this
universe, and which of us serves the only bulwark holding it back?
The Realms Supernal are the enemy, idiot, and every one of their spells you bring here, every innocent
mortal you scare into their fold is another of their tiny hooks into the world of man! And I'll give you
one chance - one chance - to renounce your twisted masters and join me, wizard, before I employ the
only other method that can stop your soul from spreading its disease any further.


You know, way back, when the Exarch made their coup in Atlantis? They killed all possible opponent
they find. Among those was an old and powerful alchemist by the name of Melchior. His desire for
vengeance and justice was so great that, despite having never studied the Death Arcanum, he brought
himself back within his own body and fought with the Oracles in the Great Battle on the Silver Ladder.
He raised all the unjust dead killed by the power-hungry Exarchs, and led them to fight their killers.
When the Ladder came crashing down, he got stuck on the other side.
Have you ever noticed how almost all Stygian imagery have a royal motif? There's this skeletal King we
see all the time. Yeah, it's Him. The King of the Dead, Wearer of the Crown of Matter, Architect of the
Watchtower of the Lead Coin, Steward of Shades, Herald of the Departed, Keeper of the Underworld,
Harbinger of Skulls, sitting upon the Throne of Stygia. When you die, you belong to him.


They say that Supernal angels and demons can't exist in the Fallen World. But I know that's a lie. A
guy I knew was a master hypnotist before he awakened. He was obsessed about his awakening, and

writing his true name on the tower in Pandemonium. He figured if he could get into a deep enough
trance he'd be able to see other names that different mages wrote. True names man, heavy stuff.
He worked at learning the Mind Arcanum in exclusion to all else, plumbing his own memories for the
moment. Only it didn't exist. Mad him go a bit mad, doubting if the whole thing ever happened. Until
he figured his goetic demon might have it. I was supposed to go over to watch him as he traveled in his
mind, but I was late and when I got there a demon had burst right from his body!
I'm no Mind or Spirit Master, but that was no goetic demon let me tell you. It was pure Supernal power
man. I saw it with my own eyes, and my own Mage Sight. It burned like the sun. Nobody believes me,
the Guardians have been hunting me for a year now. Don't you understand what this means? If they can
come out... we can get in! Wait, what are you doi


The Tree of Life? You mean, like the Kabbalah? Funny thing. I did some research on that awhile back,
and there's a bit of controversy on whether or not to consider Da'at an eleventh Sephirot. Let's say that
you're still right, and each Sephirot corresponds to an Arcanum? What's the eleventh Arcanum, and
what can it do? Of course, if Da'at is a Sephirot, then there are 24 paths, not 22.
Which reminds me. I heard from someone awhile back (I don't remember exactly when), but the way
he figured it, Malkuth, the Sephirot that I for awhile had thought was associated with the Matter
Arcanum, was actually where we lived, because it was the furthest one from Ein Sof Ar, and the
Pathway connecting it to the rest of the Sephirot would be the Abyss. Looking at the tree, Malkuth
certainly does look like a Fallen World, but if the pathway is the Abyss, then that would mean that it
was like that from the start, wouldn't it? Or does it mean that, in our hubris, we constructed the
Celestial Ladder by destroying a Supernal Realm? Are those other 17 Supernal Realms even still intact,
or have the Exarchs been destroying them as well to build more Celestial Ladders to get to the other
Sephirot? And what happens when they get to Ein Sof Ar?


Don't listen to your elders when they tell you the acamoth aren't to be trusted. They're the next true
step in Awakening. Every Awakening is a pact with an acamoth, and they're the only way to gain true
magical power. Any mage who tells you not to listen to them is just trying to prevent you from
gathering enough power to usurp him. Likewise, all the crap about the Exarchs and the Seers is just to
distract us from our own transcendence.

The void doesn't seperate the Fallen World from the Supernal- it's the sixth supernal realm, dude, and
before Atlantis was it existed. The Abyss has its own watchtower, built before all the others. It got more
powerful than all the other heavenly worlds when all that ladder mana spread through it. It's the cosmic
egg, dude, the cosmic egg.


You ever see one of those nearly-hatched eggs in the nest? You know when they get knocked down and
fall fifteen feet the gound and smash open, there's that gasping featherless thing twitching, blank eyes,
blue veins struggling under paper-thin skin, not formed for life but still living enough to die?

Sure, cosmic egg, man. Sure. Falling...

Hey, that reminds me... There's a flat near McCorran which always has at least a dozen nearly hatched
eggs smashed open on the sidewalk beside it. It's kinda gruesome, but I always thought it was just the
place where stupid birds build stupid nests. Now, I wonder...

You know how the Abyss is supposed to be anchored in the minds of Sleepers? It's not. It's
GENERATED by them. The Abyss was created when the weight of Sleeping minds tore through the
fabric of reality, once their numbers passed 500 million. The Abyss hasn't been growing because of
careless use of magic, it's growing because there are MORE Sleepers now. So, the only way to get rid of
the Abyss is to cull the Sleepers back down to a manageable population, say a few million or so. Why do
you think so many Mages are working in the military industrial complex? Global holocaust, baby, it's all
part of the plan.


The thing that few know about the Celestial Ladder is that it wasn't really a Ladder, not as we'd define
it today. It was a tower, with a wide base and a small empty room at the top with doors into countless
different Realms.
When the Ladder was destroyed, most of the Tower was destroyed as well, but the room at the very top
remained mostly whole -- but completely untethered. It drifts through the Abyss now, occasionally
attaching to some building in the Fallen World mostly at random. While its here, people can get caught
up in its wake, dragged along after it once it detaches and makes its way back into the Abyss.
That isn't a good thing either, because the doors are all gone now. When its in the Abyss, it's just a
prison with no way out.

Man, the Abyss isn't a place of quasi-nonexistance, it leads straight down into the Underworld. There
are these THINGS at its center, big fucking things that man was not meant to know and they've been
asleep for like ever! And acamoth, those are like their dreams, man.

You ever stood under a full eclipse of the sun boy? I did. And everything turned silent then. I mean,
EVERYTHING. Animals. Insects. All of us watching. ... But also the sounds of the city. The rustling of
the wind in the tree's leaves. All went silent. For a few moments, there was something around us. I felt
chilly then. I think I felt the Abyss. And I think the planet felt it, too...

Two years ago, I found a small book - a journal - in a lost tomb. It's given me insight into the Abyss.
One of the Exarchs was working for something from the Lower Depths. It wanted to enter the Supernal
World, but needed his help. With the failure of their plans, the portal he was creating shattered,
spewing the energies of the Lower Depths around the Supernal World and the Fallen World. It's these
energies that cause Paradoxes. We can shield our actions from them, and live free of Paradoxes again.
I'm going to find a way into the Lower Depths to find this energy at its source.


You know how we draw power from the Supernal Realms to fuel our magic? Well, there are people out
there who draw power from the Abyss to fuel theirs. No, I'm not talking about those weird Scelesti guys
that Master keeps warning us about. I'm talking people who never Awakened, who never went through
all that Watchtower shit, but instead use some kind of deep connection to the Abyss to work their will
upon the Fallen World. These guys are bad news, man--most of them are completely batshit, and casting
magic in front of them is like casting it in front of a giant crowd of Sleepers. Worst of all, sometimes one
of 'em will just, I dunno, snap or something, and all of a sudden these weird Abyss spirits just start
crawling out of his head and attacking people. Bad, BAD news.
So, if you see one of these guys, don't bother with the magic; just pull out your Colt and start blasting
the shit out of him. Just keep blasting, and don't stop until he falls down for good--and then put a
couple more in him for good measure.

I heard that the creation of the Abyss wasn't an accidental result of the War at all - it was a deliberate
attempt to create another Supernal Realm that ordinary humans could connect with and draw power
from. Of course, things didn't go exactly to plan.

That's a lie. It's not the Shadow Realm you fall into; step into that pool, and you fall straight into the
Abyss. The Reflecting Pool is actually a barrier to keep the acamoth from getting out.


You know how Paradoxes are supposed to be these things that don't work? Like how you can kill your
own grandmother before she had your father? And it would screw everything? Bullshit. Paradoxes are
what keeps this world turning. Things like Zeno's Paradox are vital to the world. As long as there are
unresolved Paradoxes, the universe continues to exist.
That's why the Abyss exists. Magic doesn't work the same way, you see. With it, we can breach and
solve the Paradoxes. So the Abyss creates more in order to counter-balance everything.


The Abyss wasn't created as the result of an Atlantean fuckup. Not directly, anyway. The Abyss is the
Shadow reflection of outer space, of the vast emptiness between stars. It's always been there, and it
always will be. The Celestial Ladder's destruction didn't create the Abyss, it just brought it and the
Shadow reflection of Earth closer together, which is why the Abyss screws with our magic more now.
Big freakin' deal, you say? Sure, for now. But NASA will be sending missions to Mars soon, man. That's
like a good four years of flying straight through the Abyss. Can you imagine what would happen if a
mage tried to cast a spell during one of those trips? How nasty the Paradox would be?
No doubt about it, man. The Awakened need to keep their feet firmly on terra firma, and keep their
heads out of the stars. Reality depends on it.

The Guardians believe that the Abyss is created by the sins of Mages. They're almost right. The Abyss is
the sins of the Exarchs. That is the difference between men and gods: the ability to give your sins true,
lasting cosmological form. Ask the Clavicarius if you don't believe me.


I knew a guy, he dismissed all this conspiracy theory stuff about the Watchtowers and the Abyss. Said it
was all just people looking for patterns. Instead, he insisted you just had to treat it like any other natural
phenomenon. The Abyssals were just another kind of animal. Paradoxes only happened because we
were going against the flow, instead of appreciating the true Tao of Magic. So he started to studying
Manifestations, hoping he could make some kind of magic... pheromone or something, to ward them off.
He finally got to close and -- get this -- he killed one. Yeah, I know, he was a hard sonovabich. Then,
for a while, he noticed others were avoiding him. So he started hunting the damn things, spreading
whatever they've got for blood around to 'mark his territory'. He managed to set up a demense without
any soulstones! I know! So why don't we all do this? But it wasn't enough for him. He kept up the hunt.
He started eating them. And then it got worse...


Don't be so cavalier about entering your Oneiros. Every time you go in there there's a chance you're not
coming back.
Seriously, it happened to a friend of mine. He's been sitting there for like a year now. Fuck if I know
how he hasn't starved yet.

Take it from me, Atlantis only ever existed in the minds of the old mages. Ever steped inside your
internal mental worlds, or stepped deeper into the Dreamtime itself? Atlantis was there, the Dreamtime.
That's why all the old tales are about mages falling into comas or finding quiet places for astral voyages.
The Abyss was the Dreamtime's reaction to the Celestial Ladder that connected the physical with the
mental realms. It's like a gigantic defence system, an alien mind that isn't human but services the
otherness beyond. If you dig deep enough, maybe you'll find the dream of Atlantis again.

On every night of the full moon, the Reflecting Pool in DC turns into a gateway to a Shadow Realm.
The moment the fullmoon reaches the top of the Washington Monument, step into the pool at the
point where the moonlight shines and you'll fall through to the other side. The Spirit of America lives
there, you can talk with it, learn from it, even change it. Be careful, though, becomes Something Else's
figured this out too.

Just as there was a Ladder that reached up to the heavens, we once built a stairway to the deepest realms
of below.
The ladder was destroyed. Let's hope that the stairway is, too.

There's a trucker out there named Big Maccy. He's been driving the highways of American for thirty
years or more, real friendly sort. You can spot him by the pile of pennies he keeps in his truck. 1969
minted only. At each rest stop he pauses at, every drive through and gas station, he leaves one of them
behind. He says that there's a second America out there, a better one, and this is how he's calling it

Some numbers have special significance. There are patterns, intervals of power, and sometimes they
correspond to space or time and open up possibilities that go against probability. We've all heard the

rumours of doors and streets that go different ways at different times, of hidden messages in the phone
numbers scrawled on bathroom walls, of voices whispering to you out of living sea shells. Well, they're
not just rumours. Some of them are true.
But I'm not going to tell you which rumours are true, because it's really cool here and I don't want


You know how Morpheans become immortal by inverting their own Oneiroi and using them as bodies
to maintain their consciousness in the Astral indefinitely?
Well, I've heard there are other mages who've found a similar means to become immortal without the
drawbacks such an inability to learn or grow naturally that comes from becoming a Morphean.
Such a mage does not utilize his own Oneiros. Instead, he commandeers someone else's and utilizes it as
both a domicile and vehicle. Because he didn't have to invert his own Oneiros he's not trapped in his
own head forever like a Morphean, but free to disembark his conveyance when he wishes to interact
with the world, or at least the Astral Realms, in a more natural fashion.
The more ethical in their number change their Oneiros-Conveyance every night, returning one they
are done with back to the Sleeper it came from. The more lazy and callous keep the same one for
months or years, using it until the state of dreamlessness eventually drives the Sleeper to madness and
death, forcing them to procure a new one.


What really IS out there? What happens if you cast a spell in space? Will you get sucked into the abyss
directly? Will you just shrug it off? ... What if there was another Atlantis, on another planet? ... What
actually WAS that face on Mars?

Our world acts as one of the Supernal Realm equivalents for another reality. Aliens are said to be the
mage-equivalents of that reality visiting ours.

There's this diner in New Jersey that makes great pancakes. They're so good, in fact, that if you use
syrup to draw the runes for a spell on one of them, that spell becomes a permanent part of your Pattern.
You have to eat it whole, though. God only knows what'll happen if you eat a spell in pieces.


There's a different Seattle. What I mean is, once when I went to Seattle, inside city limits it was
nothing like the city I'd been to before. The street were laid out differently, all the buildings were
different, and I couldn't find any of the people I usually know there. It's like they didn't exist.
Nobody I talked to thought anything was wrong. They all thought I was crazy.
For about a week, I thought I was. Finally, I gave up and left. Two days later, I called a Seattle business
associate on the phone, to see what would happen, and connected no problem. And he told me he'd

seen me on the street two days before the phone call. That seemed to do it. I went back to the city and
everything was normal again.
I don't know what it means. Try as I might, I can't get back to that different Seattle. I've been able to
track some of the movements of the different me, though, and he went to some bad places.

There's a city in the middle of the desert, in Nevada.. I mean a real, whole goddamn friggin city..
skyscrapers, sports stadiums, theaters, apartment houses.. block after block. Thing is, it's not on any
map, not in any atlas, there are no roads in or out, I mean, it's just there, in the middle of nowhere. And
no one talks about it. I mean sometimes some older folks seem to know about it, they get a look on their
face when you start talking about it, but no one will say anything. I don't even know its name.. but it's
there! I saw it! I walked through it..

Reality was destroyed during the fall of the Exarchs. That's the truth. All we see is a thin covering over
what's left. In fact, that's what the Exarchs are doing...trying to tear the mask off this cover. There is no
Fallen World. We live in the Abyss.

The Biltmore Square Mall closes earlier than any other mall and does little daytime business. And yet,
it stays in business. That's because it caters to a mysterious group of "night shoppers."

There are exactly 37 floors in the BB&T building. There are 18 offices on each floor. Do the math.

Never go into a fun house... Never... all those mirrors... they are not just distorted images, but gateways
into distorted versions of our reality.
Failed versions of the Fallen World... what, you think there is only one?

There's a big house just outside of town that tourists come and visit sometimes. From what I hear, an
Archmage built it sometime in the early 1800s. If a Sleeper walks through it, all he sees is a big mansion
with a complicated and confusing floorplan. If a mage walks through it, though, and he knows what he's
doing, he can navigate the rooms and walk through a door miles and miles away--on the other side of
the world, even. If the mage doesn't know what he's doing, though . . . well, let's just say that not
everyone who goes in there comes back out again.

There's a small old woman with purple dyed hair and giant owl glasses who sits out in Golden Gate Park
in San Francisco and feeds the birds. If you sing her a song she's never heard before, she will tell you the
one thing you most need to hear but don't want to know.

There's something that lurks in the puddles of New York City with eyes of fire and teeth of burnt and
twisted metal. It lurks under the water in potholes, all slender slimy coils and scales. You can spy it from
the corner of your eye when it thinks no one's looking, sliding its head out and sniffing at the night air.

There's a creek in western Pennsylvania that flows, on the new moon, not with water, but with the tears
of children. If you drink from it, I've heard that you'll pick up skills in the Time Arcanum without any
effort. Still, makes you think where the tears are coming from, but hey, don't tell me you're so righteous
as to turn down free mojo.


See, the IRS is the ultimate trap. Taxes! They got us with taxes! Yeah, I see you laughing. 'Oh, I'm a
mage now, I've got me a shadow name and I don't pay no damn taxes'. That's my point. They've trained
us to not want to deal with them. Most mages are so happy to be off the IRS's mailing list, they let the
whole operation just drop under their radar. Have you ever looked at a 1040 since you awakened?
They're blank. W-2's? Blank. You can't find the tax code in the library, you can't log onto their
website... While we were off playing, the spell got set. I went down to the local IRS office -- empty
building. Doors weren't even locked. I walked into a H&R Block and everyone was speaking in tongues.
You don't want to pay taxes? Fine, when you're a mage, they don't even exist! Which begs the
question... What happened to all those IRS agents? Were they never there? Or can we just not see them


The Seers are only the most obvious servants of the Exarchs, but there are others. Entire races of
homunculi that have been sent to the Fallen World to act as spies and assassins, the very fabric of our
reality rewritten so that they are an accepted part of our world. But no matter how hard they try, the
Exarchs can't fully remove the sense of otherness that surrounds these demonic servants, and the
Sleepers fear them though they don't know why. I speak of the spiders, of course. Of cockroaches, of all
the small scuttling things that live in the shadows. They are not of this world. They never were.

That tungsten shit in your lightbulb? The eyes of the Exarchs, I swear to god. They're watching all of us.
They imbued the element with magical energy, full well knowing its capability as a lighting source.
Go back to candles, it's the only way you're going to be safe.

The Exarchs have eyes everywhere! They're called "spiders"!

Why do you think they have eight eyes?

Our masters always tell us that the Exarchs are working to keep humanity Asleep and imprisoned. And
they always make that sound like it's a bad thing. But wait--what if the Exarchs are right? They're
practically gods, after all. Maybe they know something we don't. Maybe, if too many mages Awaken,
something really bad will happen.
Yeah, it's a war. Oracles vs. Exarchs. Thing is . . . are you sure we're fighting on the right side?

Yes, I remember one of the Exarchs. I saw him in a previous life. He was ... beautiful. A true god, a
celestial being, walking the Fallen World. He was born two millenia ago, as the son of a carpenter. Only
through our combined force, we could kill him, and even that wasn't his end. He returned from death,
and we had to ban him into a place beyond death's grasp.
In time, he will return, and bring others. And this is why I'm with the Adamantine Arrow. To be

You know how some Indians believed that taking photos is bad because your soul gets captured into the

photo? Well, why do you think the mages of today can't match the power of the ancient ones? And why
there are cameras all over the place? It's all a massive Exarch ritual...

There's another name for the Queens of Atlantis. They're called Exarchs.

I know this dude that was a member of the Throne. He claims he was going to ascend, yeah yeah, I
know, believing shit from a Seer is nonsense right? But when he said it I just could tell he wasn't lying.
The Exarchs are dead, the Oracles too. All that's left is fossilized bone and dust.
Yeah, you're laughing now, but think about it. Have we ever seen any indications of the Oracles helping
us, let alone the Exarchs helping out the throne? Yeah, you ain't smilin no more, are ya?

I met this Mastigos who told me that clouds are the shadows of the Exarchs. He said that the Seers try
to define the faces of their masters in order to interpret their will and eventually ascend by reading the
clouds. Yeah, I know how you can never trust a warlock, but I swear, sometimes when I use my Sight to
look at the sky, it feels like someone's looking back.

Not long ago, I responded to a Seer attack on a Mysterium Cabal. We drove them off without much
trouble, there were enough of us. But I noticed something that had been left out - I guess they'd been
studying it before the attack. I couldn't get much of it before the Mystagogues sent us back out. 'With
their thanks'. Still, what I did see - according to that document, the Abyss wasn't an accident - it was
created by the Exarchs. They very deliberately did not want anyone else following them up.
I've talked with a few of my sources, and I think that mortal Disbelief is something they arranged as

Never go out on a full moon, man. The moon is more than a rock in the sky, it's the lens of a telescope
from the Supernal. The Exarchs peer down on the prison through it and they can see you when it's full.
That's why there's so much weird shit going on on a full moon, werewolves and stuff... there's a small bit
of Supernal juice bleeding through. The moon, it's the fuckin' Eye of Sauron man...


The Seers of the Throne can listen in on any conversation carried out in a house where the VCR is
blinking 88:88. That's why they pushed so hard to have Betamax replaced. DVD players are actually a
Free Council plot to get VCRs out of circulation and end that particular spell.

Yeah. You know how the Seers focus their magic through passwords and code phrases and things? In
fact, they can do it through any meme or memeplex. The joke about how everyone leaves their VCRs
flashing 88:88 is the memeplex that powers that spell. My cabal-mate is a Free Councilor. He told me,
he did... but now he insists doesn't remember ever telling me that. Come to think of it, ever since he's
been acting strangely.

The Principa Discordia is a plot by the Seers of the Throne. By making magical thinking appear so
ridiculous, they discredit it.

You don't really believe that the Awakened are immune to Profane Urim influence, do you?

Rats are an intelligent race. It's true. More intelligent then humans, but without the connection to the
Supernal Realm that allows for magic. They're the ones who caused the Fall, to try and destroy magic in
this world. They're the real masters of the Seers, and they live among us now, hidden in the bodies of
our dead.

If you're going to get bloodwork done at that new hospital downtown, don't. It's a front for the Seers.
They've figured out how to identify the blood of the Awakened with a mix of Life, Prime, and Time
magic, and they're using it to scope us out.

The Seers, they don't follow our Paths. They have their own paths that follow the reverse path around
the Atlantean Pentagram. Don't you see what that means?! They're trying to banish the Material

D&D is a tool of the Seers... just think about it.

Like ass they are! The Wachowskis have been agents of the Seers and Exarchs since day one. Classic
reverse psychology, make the villain Smith cooler than the 'rebels' and you get a bunch of
impressionable sorts with a disgust for the world-as-is signing up with the Exarchs before they even get
past the Watchtowers.

Squaresoft is evil.

See, in the times of old, rabbis had visions of the Supernal Realms and the nature of reality. They
Awoke and dubbed the realms 'Sephiroths.' So they created Kabbalah as a gateway for sleepers.
The Seers hated this. If it became popular, Awakenings would pop up left right and center. So they
arranged for persecution of the tradition. But when the Enlightenment arrived xenophobia died down.
Unfortunately the tradition remained obscure.
Fast forward several hundred years. The Internet would allow for wide spread access of such practices. So
the Seers made their best efforts to weaken Kabbalah; they turned Sephiroth from a word for a Supernal
Realm into a video game character.
Squaresoft was their pawn.


So, imagine your some ancient Master of the Arts of Wooj from ten thousand years ago, scrying forward
to see what's gonna happen.
Naturally, this modern world makes no sense. So, you do the best you can to describe what you can.
Luckily, one thing doesn't change- the stars. Star patterns and formations change very slowly, so you
can use THOSE as relatively fixed references, time markers for your prophecies.
Makes sense, right? Except we can manipulate the stars now. The sleepers can, and do it constantly. By

adding satelites and airplanes and radio towers.

I think the Seers have a prophecy. And someone's trying to make it come true early.


You want to know the truth about Hollywood? The truth about the system that arbitrarily exalts mere
mortals to a status where each and every move they make becomes the centerpiece of our culture?
It's a construct of the Exarchs, a tool used by them to convince the masses of humanity that their lives
are meaningless, they no matter how hard they search or strain, someone else who does not deserve it
will achieve fame and fortune.
Think about all the sad folks who buy People magazine or watch that E! network bullshit to find out
who Collin Farrel's fucking this week or how many diamonds line the crucifix around Diddy's neck?
Think any of them will awaken anytime soon, when they are constantly surrounded by proof of their
own worthlessness?
And where do all of these Hollywood Illuminati come from? How do they achieve fame, despite the
many more talented and struggling musicians, actors, and models we see every day? Go try to look at
their records sometime... and I mean really look. Check for family histories, birthdays, photos, the
works. You eventually start to see gaps, and find that things don't add up.
That's because they have no real history... they're copies. Call them clones, homunculi, whatever you
will, they're soulless puppets of the Seers. The Seers began the program in collaboration with (of course)
the Nazis. At the same time that they're cloning Aryans or the Boys from Brazil or whatever, the Seers
are brewing together all the genes to make Ben Affleck and Britney Spears and Brad Pitt or whatever.
Still don't buy it? Take a look at this photo of an SS/Luftwaffe gathering from 1943. It's a bit grainy, but
I swear the scientist on the right looks like Jennifer Aniston, man...


Dude, don't ever watch spectator sports man. Have you ever noticed the geomancy of Yankee Stadium,
Pac Bell Park, Wrigley Field, the Staples Center, etc? Did you ever wonder why Three Rivers Stadium
in Pittsburgh was built next to three rivers?
The founders of all sports leagues were Seers of the Throne. They constructed all stadiums on sacred
grounds were all the local ley lines intersect.
Every sports event is a mystical gathering that through metaphor celebrates the victory of the Exarchs.
The N.B.A. tiered playoffs celebrates the construction of the Celestial Ladder. The N.H.L. playoffs
celebrates the Exarch's victory in the Atlantean Civil War (the final battle was on ice). And so on...
Anyways the more people attend and watch, the stronger the mystical rite, the stronger our prison gets.
God let's hope Soccer never becomes popular in America...

Psst. I'll let you in in a little secret, if you let me have access to that hallow of yours.
Phones are weapons of the Seers against us. You see, by calling someone - anyone - on a phone, the
Seers can immediately establish sympathy to the caller, and use their damn Profane Urim to control
him. This is why you should always, always be on guard when near someone who's using a phone,
because he could be a servant of the Exarchs and not even aware of it.

We've had free reign of this prison of the material for a while, but things are changing, and changing
fast. The archons are coming back, and they're PISSED about how their trustees, the Seers, have
handled things.

Fortnum & Mason belongs to the Throne. Or it did, before everyone found out that the tetrarch was a
Scelestus. Well, whatever you do, DON'T drink Smoky Earl Grey in a demesne. Just don't, okay?


The Silver Ladder is trying to re-build the Celestial Ladder. In retrospect it seems kinda obvious, given
their name.

Never trust one of the Mysterium.

The higher-ups of the Mysterium have all been corrupted by dark powers. Perhaps they have seen the
truth behind the all-permeating influence of the Exarchs and secretly joined the Seers of the Throne.
Perhaps, in their quest for knowledge, they have roused spirits from the outside that consumed their
souls. I don't know what happened to them, but they are all wrong.

The Harry Potter books were a HUGE Guardian of the Veil defeat. Huge. Story goes that the first time
the Guardians closed in on Rowling (who's just a sleeper told a lot by some crazy Silver Ladder dude),
one of them fucked up royally and released a big, honking Abyssal spirit. It took a shine to Rowling and
has hung around since. Now whenever they try to keep another Potter book from coming out, they have
to fight that spirit.
Have they won yet? Jesus, man, you know how many Harry Potter books there are?

Don't believe any hooey about werewolves, it's all a plot by the Guardian of the Veil using a bunch of
Thyrsus mages.

Money? Now there's a magic trick pulled off by the Mastigos members of the Veil. Just think about the
power contained in multi-colored strips of paper, usually backed by little more than faith. They can
track people through money, too.

The Silver Ladder isn't a real Atlantean Order. They just appeared over a period of 12 years in the late
900s, mostly in the Holy Roman Empire in Germany. The Ladder also wasn't their first symbol.
It was a silver throne.


Have you ever wondered why it is that air forces the world over are so devoted to the notion of jet
fighters? Why they spend billions of dollars on war planes that are piloted into combat by a single man?
It's the Arrows, you know. Every Sleeper military of note has its share of 'em, doing their "honorable
service in battle" thing.
But in the old days, when Sleepers fought with swords and shit, they could always find single combat,
against Awakened warriors on the other side, and do their whole "dueling" thing. But as war became
more and more organized and technological, that stopped working. The only way to find an Awakened
enemy was to go into the sky looking for him, and hope that he'll follow you up.

You're a Guardian? So, that means you've passed the Three Veils they use as initiation rites.
Y'know, I used to be a Guardian too. Until they told me about the fourth Veil, at which point I left the
The Guardians behind the fourth Veil aren't mages anymore. I don't know what they are, but not

The Mysterium must be stopped at all costs. Because as soon as they know everything and there's
nothing left to figure out out, then this would be the end of the universe.

No seriously. Hey, stop laughing. Dick Cheney is a mage. A Guardian of the Veil, to be exact.
(Honestly, how does a senator from a place like Wyoming become Vice President without magic?) All
that shit going on with the NSA? The Guardians listening in on us, man.
And Cheney's shooting a man in a duck hunt? That was no accident. It was a warning. Just some clever
Fate magic to make it look accidental.


Okay - so, Enochian, that quote-unquote 'Angelic Language' is a joke, everyone knows that. John Dee
and Edward Kelly made it up between them. Any linguist can tell you it's a fabrication. And it is, but
that's not the whole story. John Dee was an Obrimos, and Kelly a Mastigos like you. Dee had heard the
genuine angelic language during his Awakening, and between them, Dee and Kelly managed to pull the
language out of Dee's head. They had the actual language of the Aether, it was like High Speech on
steroids. They could cast damn near imperial magic with it. We Guardians had no choice but to act - if
every initiate out there had that power then secrecy would be impossible. The true Aetheric language
still exists, known only to a few Guardian archmages. They use it to power the imperial spells that make
people forget about seeing werewolves and that cover up changelings' true forms. The reason I'm telling
you this is because somewhere in that Warlock head of yours is the language of the demons, and I want


Oh, I bet you really trust those meatheads in the Arrow, right? 'Enlightenment through Servitude' and
all that rot? Let me tell you something about them, from you to me.

We can't stop the war between us and the Seers because of them. Every single time someone makes
headway in discussing a truce, or cease-fire, or something where we can get on with our wants and they
can get on with theirs, some ass in the Arrow kills someone important to one of the sides and we go
right back to this stupid conflict.
The Arrows have been doing this since Atlantis fell. It keeps people scared, keeps people bloodyminded for revenge, keeps the Arrows in business when their brute squad tactics should've gone out
with phrenology and nasal sex.

The earliest known sleeper references to Atlantis are of course Plato's. He wrote a dialogue, Timaeus,
and a second, Critias. This much everyone knows. Sleepers believe that Critias is unfinished, and the
third Dialogue, Hermocrates was never written. In fact, the old boy did finish Critias and Hermocrates.
The full texts of these dialogues exist only in the secret storehouses of the Mysterium. Between them
the Mystagogues and the Guardians expunged all record of the Mage society which Plato wrote of. It's
said that there are things mentioned in Hermocrates which would bring the Diamond Orders down
overnight, if they were generally known.


In ancient times the Island of Atlantis was home to five classes of people the Pentacle.
The Leaders, the princes and politicians are today the Silver Ladder.
The Scholars and teachers are today the Mysterium.
The Police and spies are today the Guardians of the Veil.
The Warriors and soldiers are today the Adamantine Arrow.
And the priests and mystics? Today they call themselves the Seers of the Throne.
When the Celestial Ladder was built representatives of all the Orders ascended it. What they found
there horrified them. They saw the true and terrible nature of the universe and knew that it must never,
never be allowed to contaminate Earth. These Ascended Mages the Oracles knew that they could
never return, that they would die in the darkness there, else endure the nightmare they'd ascended to
for all time.
They also knew they must spare anyone else from ascending and joining them in damnation. That they
must above all spare the Earth from what might DESCEND. They sent messages back. They sent them
to the only people who could perceive messages from the other side SEERS. The messages warned of
the terrible, terrible dangers beyond reality. The Oracles begged the Seers to destroy the Celestial
Ladder and prevent the destruction of Earth, or the damnation of her people.
The Messages the Oracles sent had a name in Atlantean, but in the tongues of Sleepers we call them
'exarchs' today. Pretty obvious really, 'ex' meaning 'from, and 'archo' ancient and leader or on-high.
The exarchs are the messages from the leaders of Atlantis, who'd by right, ascended the Ladder first.
The Seers, loyal to the Oracles and wanting to spare their world from the horrors described in the

exarchs tried to destroy the Celestial Ladder but the other four Orders stood in their way. Some didn't
believe the Oracles, some merely lusted after the power they thought lay beyond. There was a battle and
the Celestial Ladder fell, creating a tiny, tiny crack through which the smallest portion of the higher
reality could enter. We call that the Abyss.
The Four rebel Orders cast the Seers out of their society. They tried to destroy the Seers and everything
about them. They expunged, burned, unmade the exarchs and created a history of lies where the
Diamond orders were the ones loyal to the Oracles, not the ones rebelling against the warnings from the
From that day to this, the Diamond Orders have tried to do what the Oracles said must never be done
and the Seers have tried to save the world and humanity from the nightmare without. The Abyss and its
acamoth are just a tiny taste of what truly lies beyond our reality. Since the exarchs were destroyed no
one knows what will happen should the Seers fail, but they know they must never fail.


That's a filthy Free Council lie. We're not the ones trying to re-build the Celestial Ladder. They are. All
this talk about nanotubes and orbital space elevators is a cover. The space elevator itself will be nothing
but a huge magical prop, an attempt to create an object with sympathy to the original Celestial Ladder.
The only reason they're spreading the rumor that we're trying to do it is so that if their new Celestial
Ladder is a disaster, they can foist the blame off on us.

Did you hear about the Free Council experiment in New York City? They're apparently trying to turn
the Statue of Liberty into some strange mechanical golem. It's like some strange B movie.

The Free Council has a lab in Aurora, Illinois. If you mail them a sample of your body tissue, they'll
create a body double under your control for you.

Remember how electric cars were supposed to change the world? Did you hear about how they did a few
trials, and people loved them, but the oil companies shut them down? My buddy in the Free Council
told me that people loved them so much in part because these cars were designed by a Free Council
cabal to increase the drivers' connection with the Realms Supernal. According to him, the Seers found
out somehow, and then used their connections with the oil companies to eliminate the whole project.


You know that story about how the Free Council got its name? The Seers supposedly made them an
offer and the Orderless Mages rejected it via extreme technological violence. However, if you ask
around -- and I have -- you'll find that few people really remembers any of this supposed "rejection".
More importantly, just look around. Do the Seers look any weaker to you?
The Free Council is just a big lie. They accepted the Seers' offer, and are playing us all for fools. I mean,
just think about it. If the Seers had a tool like them, what do you think they'd do? They play at being
our allies, but they reject our truths and work to create something that they claim is Magic.
In reality, they're just doing the work of the Exarchs and playing right into the plans of their Seer

masters. Their works just strengthen the Abyss and ensure that fewer and fewer Sleepers will ever
awaken. Never, ever trust the Free Council. Even the ones that don't know about the deal their Masters
made aren't trustworthy.

One of my friend from the Free Council tried to make a machine that used Mana as an energy source.
Whenever we asked what it was for, he would always smile and say: "You'll see". One day, he called me
on the phone. He was screaming a lot of unintelligible crap at me about something. I barely understood
what he said. He mentionned something that was dead yet still talked. I never saw him again.


That is a lie, propaganda from the Free Council. Rats have lived among us since Atlantis, that is true.
They even helped us to build it. Think about it, they seem to know more about our infrastructures than
most of us do.
Rats are indeed a very intelligent race. Not highly intelligent as individuals (yet surprisingly so), but
collectively. They are also able to wield magic, a collective kind, subtle enough to go unnoticed by
most. That is, until recently. A couple of centuries back, it was discovered that a mild form of Mana
could be harvested directly from their small bodies. A refined form of "Mass Sacrification", if you want.
That Mana, connected to Life, is used in what we call modern medicine. That's no big secret. A way to
keep everyone healthy, at very low cost. They've even recently managed to alter the rats' bodies so that
they breed a lot faster. Very useful.
Through the years, some rats have escaped, most often "abducted" by lab assistants or other personnel
who managed to get a glimpse of their suffering. Their plea for help is being heard. And so, recently,
history books and media have been flooding us with propaganda about how rats are dangerous, vile and
dirty creatures. Of course, if you convince a member of the Free Council to admit it all, he'll tell you it
is in an attempt to protect the Veil, and he will wink at his Guardian friend.
Sounds totally crazy doesn't it? Of course it does...
Oh and one last thing. You know that "technology" (or Techne, as they call it) to drain life from rats...
think what would happen if the same process could be massively applied to really powerful magical
creatures. It's much harder to do, especially if the entity possesses a strong individuality. Or so I hear.
They're getting there though, I'm certain. It might explain our sudden amazing "discoveries" about
genetic manipulation, as a way to "alter our bodies at will". Sounds familiar uh? What if they managed
to break the will of a werewolf? That's a scary thought indeed. I wonder if they ever tried on a mage...

The Internet is an experiment of the Free Council - an attempt to create a Supernal Realm in the
Fallen World.

Nintendo are controlled by the Free Council. No, serriously. The Wii is training people to perform
mudras, and half the DS games out there were mainly created to trick Sleepers into writing Atlantean
characters. As for Sony, they're all Guardians, dude.

So, I heard some bozo Libertine wanted a familiar. He got his Thyrsus mate to find a spirit he liked and
make it onto a kitty-cat for him. Only trouble is, like I said, 'bozo Libertine' so he wanted a Computer

spirit for his familiar. Thyrsus does the ritual and the spirit gets it's physical cat body. Want to know the
first thing it said? 'I can has cheezburger pleez?' Swear to god...

The Free Council really is capable of creating new magic. The purview of shadows in the Death
Arcanum was actually invented in 1906, but history was retroactively changed so that it was "always"
Only three people in the world know this, and only two of them are aware of the next plan: Forces,
Matter and Quantum Theory, deadline 2012.

It's already begun, actually. I have it on good authority that, with enough study of EM radiation's
wave/particle duality, one can use Matter to mess with most anything you'd normally do with Forces.

4chan is the tool of the Free Council, specifically their subgroup, Legion. It's designed to search through
as much of the potential of the human mind, in the form of memes, as quickly as possible. It is a true
synthesis of the Fallen World; it is made of Matter, powered by Forces, is linked worldwide by Space,
predicts what memes will exist, and thus creates them using Time. The sheer amount of pron is just a
necessary component for Life.
But it's being used now, offensively, against those Banishers, the ...oh... what's the name? Planologists?
The ones who believe that we are the servants of an evil alien overlord, and have that terrible actor.


Banishers aren't mages. They're something else.


I talked to this guy in a bar, he was totally whacked out. He said there was no such thing as magic or the
Supernal Realms. Our Awakenings, he said, are just a psychotic break, and all the magic and spirits and
shit are just hallucinations. It's just that we share such a specific syndrome that we all back up each
other's delusions. Anyway, the Abyss is just what sanity we have trying to reassert itself, and the reason
that it's worse around sleepers is because part of us is embarassed! The Banishers are just more aware of
how crazy this all is than the rest of us.
Anyway, I ran into him a few weeks later. We didn't show up to the Mage Sight anymore, and when I
started to mention Mage stuff, he just looked uncomfortable, and left with some made-up excuse.
Apparently, he's been cured.

Think about it: Banishers are working for the Abyss. In truth, they are mages who didn't finish their
Awakening but didn't stay Sleepers. Instead, the Abyss gave them the push to sign their name on a
Watchtower, but in return, it influences all their actions afterward. Why do you think they all have a
mad on to kill mages? They're finishing the Abyss' work.

You think Banishers are crazy. But let me ask you this, have you ever killed a Seer? Maybe a Scelestus?
Or come across one of those liches? Do you think they thought they were doing something terrible? Of
course not. The Banishers are just magi so moral they recognize all our workings as criminal and evil.

And they intend on stopping us.

During every mage's Awakening he signs his name onto a Watchtower, right? Every time a mage dies,
his name burns a tiny hole in the Watchtower as it dissipates. That's the Banishers' plan - kill us all to
knock down the Watchtowers.

The Seers of the Throne are idiots. Pathetic idiots who aren't even serving the Exarchs, even though
they think they are. Banishers are the real unwitting slaves of those Gods; what happens is that an
Exarch sometimes fucks up an Awakening to the extent that the person flips out, and tries to kill all us
normal sorcerers.


My Master told about this mojo the Seers have--the Profane Aura or something like that--whatever it's
called, it lets the Seers climb inside your brain and drive your body around like a truck. Nobody knows
what happens to your mind or soul or where it goes when this happens though--which is scary enough.
It's damn near foolproof on Sleepers, he told me.
Well you know how some Sleepers are halfway Awake? Most of them just live out their lives because
the weirdness happens to pass them by. But what happens when the Seers try to work their mojo on one
of them? Or what happens when their mojo backlashes?
My Master wasn't sure... but he thinks this is where those kill-crazy batshit hunter mages come from....

The provost's familiar once secretly told me that those hunter mages never really go through with their
Awakening. It's like, they go halfway through, or something, and the reason they do less magic is just
because they're just not as good at it as the rest of us. Thing is, when they've killed a mage and pried her
sorcery straight from her immortal soul -- that's when they'll complete their Awakenings.


The Tremere aren't actually Liches at all. At some time during their career, they sacrifice most of their
essence and their bodies become dry husks. Although they get an extended lease on life, they are
sacrifice their power for SOMETHING else. Is it to keep things out or in, or to fuel some magical
device? I don't know what it is but we'll all know before the Mayan calendar ends.

Joe, from the Cabal of the Fallen Ruby? He met a mermaid once. No kidding. They're a legacy, that
goes all the way back to the fall of Atlantis. They speak entirely in High Speech and know secrets that
are long forgotten. They just won't show up for people who they don't find worthy, ya know? But if you
want to go search the oceans, feel free. Might get lucky.

What's sad is that werewolves are in reality our fellow Awakened. No, really. They're actually Orphans
of Proteus who have forgotten what they were and evolved an elaborate mythology to explain their

Whatever you do, don't watch the Teletubbies. I've heard that its a seemingly innocuous recruiting tool

used by the Sclesti and their Abyssal Masters. Its ineffective against Sleepers but if one of the Awakened
were to watch it....


There can be too much of a good thing, believe me. Legacies, for example. Reworking your soul to bring
a touch of the Surpernal to the Fallen World without Paradox. What could be better, yes? It can go too
far though. You know of the grand masters who reach their third Attainment. And the legends of
archmagi who reach their fourth.
There's a fifth attainment. But to achieve it means warping your soul beyond the limits of the
Awakened. You become... something else...
I've found evidence that this has happened at least twice before.
Once with a necromancer in ancient Rome.
Once with a shape-changer in prehistoric Europe.
I don't have to spell it out for you, do I?


Someone's killing the City Wardens... They're a small Legacy, mages who get so entangled with their
home that they merge their souls with the spirit of the city itself. They can see through every window
and cobblestone of their home turf, they can spread riot and celebration throughout the citizens
according to their mood, and they always get a taxi when they want one.
But someone's killing them off... The Warden of New York was shot through the heart in June of 2001.
The Warden of New Orleans was drowned in his bathtub in May of 2005. And three days ago, someone
took a knife to the Warden of San Francisco. Slit him from gut to throat and set the body on fire...


There's a Legacy, called the Salubri, which are an offshoot of the Tremere. Instead of being forced to
devour a whole soul every so often in order to remain alive, they've somehow managed to figure out a
technique to sustain themselves by only taking a minute piece from several souls. There seems to be no
detectable detrimental effects on those they've harvested from.
The Guardians of the Veil do their best to suppress all knowledge of this Legacy. They don't want it to
be it to be known that a relatively easy and ethical means of immortality is available to mages, in order
to keep Awakened numbers down and limit the potential for Paradoxes to occur.

Pfft. Sure, they WANT you to think that. I have it on good information that the real reason the Salubri
are suppressed is because they are even worse than the Tremere. They don't just have to consume a soul
every so often, they have to consume a person, body AND soul. The Guardians suppress information
about them because if it ever got out that there was something even worse than the Tremere out there,
the Tremere wouldn't look so bad.

YouTube isn't just filled with a bunch of badly-made AMVs. Oh no. You know the Sphinxes? They're a

bunch of Magistos that can see connections in all kinds of random stuff, but they also can send each
other messages through things that look like other things. Those AMVs are like their own special
message boards.
No, dude. We're picking up messages from the Supernal Realms in the Rick Roll videos. But you know
what's weird? Things from 4chan, they sound like the Abyss...


I've been hearing rumors of people who have been slinging magic out in front of people in plain sight,
and there's no Disbelief or Paradoxes! The events have been pretty rare, and the witnesses almost never
want to talk about it, and those that do get snuffed. The wizard who threw the mojo around gets snuffed
too. Usually the body left behind looks like it went through a meat-grinder, too, and I've never been
able to call up their ghost. I managed to get hold of the ghost of one of the witnesses who talked, and
she said the people who did the killing called themselves the Sleepers. That's all I could get out of her
before the ephemera evaporated.


You ever thought about what Armstrong brought back from the moon? The thing sitting in NASA's
secret laboratories? No... Not the badly painted rock they tour around, the REAL thing. It holds
something in it. And this thing gets hungrier and more alive by the year. Don't believe me? ... Look
what happened with the Shuttles. You really think that's all just 'malfunctions'? Dude, we let sleepers
believe this shit every day! And now... Now we're the sleepers.

Less than 50% of the probes sent to Mars get there, and those that do suffer all sorts of 'malfunctions.'
Parson's old Cabal is still entrentched in JPLand in communication with their European and Russian
counterparts. They build exact replicas of each probe, and enact sympathetic magic through them, to
affect targets on Mars. The Mana pumped through the probes, though, isn't always kept in balance, and
most probes can take it. Don't ask me what they do with them though...

Jesus has already returned. At least six times in the last century, no less. His most recent manifestation
is now burnt-out reggae artist in an LA slum.

He can kick out some dope beats, though.

You can probably guess where Gandhi is.


There is this movie, made in the late 80's, whose every actors and every members of the technical crew
was given a part of one the greater secrets, perhaps even how to repair the Abyss, something of that
importance, and when someone will finally have collected all the parts of the secret by asking them to
the right persons, the ritual will be accomplished and great stuff will happen.
Problem is, the film was so awfully bad that no one ever admitted having even remotely participated to
it. And no one which movie it is because it is THAT bad that no one want to admit having seen it all

the way.

There are Atlantian runes, lost to mage society, that can be recreated by combining the icons of major
corporations. No, seriously. Somehow (I blame the Free Council, my friend says the Oracles), if you
overlap famous logos, you will see the hidden shapes of runes lost to time. Be careful, though. My friend
joined together the symbols for ten major computer companies and the resulting runes summoned
something... old. Very old indeed.

Man, you know there's a Watchtower Society? They put out a magazine, called the Watchtower.
You know the kicker? They're the Jehovah's Witnesses, man. Think about that for a while.

Yeah. And they put out another magazine called...


The Seers of the Throne are usually pretty cautious, but because they're so fractious, you'll occasionally
see a faction do something especially ballsy like, say, assassinating a President as a sacrifice to the
Exarchs. I don't know what they'd do with that kind of power, and I don't want to, but sometimes
people wonder how the US managed to get to the moon so quickly. Now, do you remember that
bedtime story about that God-Machine? And an angel on the moon?

Somebody once told me that the Cold War between the Soviets and the US was part of a Seer ploy to
harvest the fear of millions of people around the world.

You've got it all wrong, man. The Principia is the real deal. It's just that everything else has been slowly
changed around to make the Principia look silly in contrast. THAT'S the real plot. THAT's the way
they hide the truth from you. Right out in the open and everyone just point and laughs, man, and never
even realize what they're looking at. Now, about the Weekly World News....

Hey kid, have you ever heard of an organization known as the Black Hand? They're a group of Mages
that insinuate themselves into society, controlling and manipulating for God only knows what goal.
Take the first World War, for example. The War started because Archduke Franz Ferdinand was killed
in Sarajevo, right? Well, the guy who killed him, Gravilo Princip (now isn't THAT an ironic name?),
was working for an organization known as... the Black Hand. Then there's Kennedy. Apparently,
Oswald couldn't have shot him, due to the way the bullet entered Kennedy. But it wouldn't too hard for
Mages to do the thing, heh? Also, apparently, when they found Oswald, he had a tatoo of a black hand
on his back. That's not all... What do you mean I know too much? Kid? It's not funny... Kid?

Every once in awhile, the studio heads gather on an empty soundstage and enact a hermetic ritual with
a promising starlet. Things always go badly for the starlet - Marilyn, Judy, Theda, Jane, Katie, just to
name a few - but there's always more of them waiting in the wings. The studio heads promise fame,
celebrity, but it's a smokescreen.

I know you've heard what the bloodsuckers have said about Longinus but don't believe a word of it. He
actually was a mage, a Seer of the Throne to be specific. Note the operative word "was". You know how
if one is ruthless enough one can reap a nice juicy load of mana through human sacrifice? Well, now

imagine how much power you can harvest if the sacrifice in question is an Oracle incarnate. Sure the
death wasn't permanent (how do you keep an Oracle down?), but the old Roman did reap enough
energy from the killing to raise himself beyond the level of ordinary mages. Some say a new Exarch was
born that day.

Aw, you still don't know anything. It's the same amount of Awakenings as ever. Every generation
thinks they've released the movie that will shake Sleepers from Quiesence forever. I remember, decades
back, folks claiming that Birth Of A Nation was the turning point for Awakened society. We're just at a
point where communication is wide enough across the globe both on a magical and material level that
we can notice when one of ours Awaken.

If you're ever in the mood for a mindfuck and you're near Louisville, KY, head over to the main library
branch and look up their copy of "Civics and You: A Young Patriot's Primer". Grade school book from
the 1950s. You want the section on California, page 135. Specifically, their history of the state's capitol:
San Angelos.


OK, OK. Pizza isn't supposed to be round. It was originally baked in a square pan. In fact, all so-called
'Italian' cuisine was invented, or adapted into its modern form, in New York back in the 19th century.
But why?
Well, consider - a square pan is made of right angles. Right angles are the basis of our civilisation. Four
classical elements, points of a compass, Pythagoras, architecture. And Italy is the cradle of Western
civilisation - the Romans and the Renaissance started there.
I think they're trying to take our past away from us and replace it with something else. Another history,
where geometry and philosophy go different directions...

You know all those actors in the various Chinese wire-fu flicks? Chow Yun Fat, Michelle Yeoh, Jet Li,
those sorts of people? Well, I'll let you in on a little secret . . .
. . . they're all Sleepers, and the stunts they pull in those movies are just special effects. What, did you
think I was gonna say they were all Perfected Adepts or something? Please.

So, you remember a while back when the last Harry Potter book came out? And there was this big flap
because a pirate .pdf was leaked early? Well, I'm a cheap bastard so I hit up Kazaa for it. Only the first
file I got was corrupted. It wouldn't open in Adobe, so I let the computer suggest a programme, I daren't
say out loud what that file was. But I burned that computer and had a Matter Master Unmake the ash.
J.K. Rowling is not what you think.


Douglas Adams was one of us. A Mastigos Guardian, in fact. His books are part of the Labyrinth.
There's secret wisdom in them for those who have eyes to see. Especially Cricket. Just like in the books,
Cricket really is a metaphor for higher truth. The Pitch, that's the real world, surrounded by the field of
the Fallen World. The Wicket is the Exarchs of course, three stumps for the three ministries of the Seers
propping up two bails, the Quiescence and the Lie. We're the Bowler, our magic is the ball, we try to

smash the Exarchs and beat the Seer batsman. Here's where it gets clever: The fielders, those are
sleepers just standing around, idle in the fallen world. But every now and then, some stray bit of magic
comes hurtling out of the sky and a Sleeper catches it, he Awakens and every Awakening is a loss to the
Seers' side. Beyond the Fallen World, the rope marks the edge of the Abyss. When our magic crosses
that boundary we get a Paradox, and the batsman scores six runs...


You ever heard of The Book of Hormisdas? It's a lost scripture, written by one The Magi. Yes, I'm
talking about those Magi, the ones who brought the gold, frankincense and myrrh. An online
acquaintance of mine in the Mysterium actually got to see what might possibly be the original copy of it
in an anatheum in Rome, written in a combination of Avestan and High Speech.
From what my mystagogue friend managed to decipher from his brief chance to read the text, apparently
The Magi were a cabal of great power and wisdom. Their gifts were representations of their paths, gold
symbolizing Obrimos, frankincense Thyrsus and myrrh Moros, offered up to "The Supernal Prince" as
tokens of gratitude and fealty.
The most interesting thing my friend told me is that according to Hormisdas there were actually four
Magi, one for each of the Diamond Orders. Apparently the fourth was a Guardian of The Veil who
arranged for all mention of him or his gift to be excised from all the books and accounts that made it
into the Bible. My acquaintance did not get a chance to read far enough to find out why he did so, but
he did learn his gift was silver.


There are many things that stalk the night and not all of them are evil. My apprentice was attacked by a
vampire, and apparently was saved by this strange woman who called down something that looked to be
an angel. He tells me she called herself one of the Twilight Suns. Whatever that means.

Two powerful spirits merged once, and decided to seize control of the world by dividing it. One was a
powerful wolf-spirit, and one was the spirit of the moon. Their tools, which include creatures that can
only be described as werewolves, are on a holy crusade to stop magic from entering the world except by
way of the moon-spirits - even though they don't know it, they are damming the source of magic.


Most of the old mages know the story about the Wolf... Hell yeah, with a capitalized W, put down your
beer and listen.
The Path of Ecstasy is the weakest one, you know why? The Watchtower of the Stone Book has been
sacked. Some huge fucking Wolf came out of the Abyss, conquered the Shadow, and then left to go take
over the Primal Wild. He did, tore the shit out of all the Exarchs in his way. Thrysus always get the
feeling of being watched when they Awaken, not with curiousity, but like they are prey.
The worst part is he left his little minions here to wait for his return.

You know a mage is suppose to live forever. A mage is suppose to Asend and become eternal but it's

become so rare for a mage to live long enough to ascend before someone kills them. They say that the
soul is so enraged at their lost chance at immortality that each time a mage dies a werewolf is born.


After the fall of the Celestial Ladders, the oldest and most powerful Mages who weren't in the Supernal
Realms found that their age-extension magic wasn't as reliable or easy to pull off as before. Some of
these Archmasters just accepted the inevitable and died gracefully, but a sizable number were simply
unwilling to perish.
They found various ways to further extend their lifespans. One of these was an Archmaster of Death, a
Moros, whose name is now lost to time. He found a way, a dark way, that cheated the new limitations
by working around it -- instead of relying on the Supernal Realms, this Archmaster used the essence of
the Abyss. He sacrificed his magic, his soul, and his life to the Void.
The resulting creature -- because it wasn't human any more -- was cursed in many different ways. It was
burned by the sun, was soulless and without any Awakened will, and it had to drink the blood of the
living to sustain its existance. Yet, it had gained what it sought. It now lived forever.
Its children aren't as immortal as their Father. Nothing can kill him. Not while the Abyss still
envelopes the Fallen World, in any event.

I heard a ghost mage and that dead mage's goetic spirit once got together and, bo-chicka-wo-wo, had a
kid. Here's the kicker: their kid was a perfectly normal Sleeper. Or at least he looks normal to any
magical scrutiny.

You know how the Exarchs cast the old gods from their thrones after the Atlanteans build the Celestial
Ladder, right? Ever thought about where those old gods went? All those stories about Angels and
Demons, Faeries, Man-beasts, Ghosts and the like? Those are the old gods trapped in the Fallen World...
just waiting to reclaim their place in Heaven. The bad part is that they hold us Mages, not just the
Exarchs but all of us, responsible for their downfall. And they're hunting us down, one by one.

I don't know about Indians, but vampires are the only connection left to the Supernal Realms.
Specifically Stygia. They are shades who came to the Fallen World from the last astral pathway. They
take on human shape, but they gotta feed on the blood of the living to stay alive. The Abyss makes a
fake life from thin, uh, void, to cover up their true origin. And they believe it themselves! They're the
last link between men and gods, and they don't know it! Besides where do you think all that crap about
bloodsuckers being people with baggage beyond the grave comes from?

The werewolves are keeping the Fallen World and the Supernal Realms apart with their pogrom against
spirits. You want to enter the Supernal Realm? Gotta get rid of the werewolves....

Speaking of supernatural creatures, did you know there's a whole line of vampires that have been geased
since Atlantis into serving its ruling mages? It's true, an Archmaster of Fate had imposed the geas on the
progenitor of the line and all his progency to serve as footsoldiers in the wretched lands beyond. Since
the Fall they've been carrying out their last order, which involved waging war against the rest of their
kind. Their calling card is an Atlantean sigil which looks sort of like the Roman numeral for seven. It's

said that if a mage can present the proper response in High Speech to the sigil then members of this line
will recognize him as an heir of Atlantean authority and have to take orders from him, lest they face the
doom of a Great Curse.

Vampires hated pencils. I mean, every school kid had a way to off them. That's why pens were invented
by the bloodsuckers. Mages keep pencils around by staying in control of testing organizations. Think
about scantrons, little grey colored bubbles, and no. 2 pencils and what they signify and you'll know
which group is behind it.

I talked to Thor, yes that Thor, yesterday, he is a personal trainer at the YMCA... he has some great
stories to tell man... great stories. You want the real scoop on went down in the old days, talk to him...


A couple of years ago, a friend of a friend showed me this creepy old book, leather bound, with vellum
pages. Wouldn't tell me where he got it. It read like a religious tract, all fire and brimstone and divine
wrath, something like the Old Testament and Dante's Inferno mixed in a blender. Thing is, this book
wasn't about humans--it was about vampires. Yes, the "bleh bleh, I vant to suck your blood" kind.
According to this book, the centurion Longinus became the first vampire after stabbing Christ in the
side and accidentally drinking some of His blood. The question is, was Longinus a member of the cabal
who first slew Christ, punished by the Exarch as His final act in that life? Or was he just an innocent
bystander who was twisted by the Exarch into something else entirely?
In other words . . . which side of the war are the vampires on? Ours, or the Exarchs'?

Vampires and werewolves are what happens when an Awakening goes terribly wrong. And the more of
them the greater the chance of it happening.

Vampires are able to do vulgar magic without shit happening to them. That's a fact. I've seen one
bloodsucker burn out a guy's eyeballs just by chanting some old language. Trick is, you can learn how
they avoid Paradoxes, but only if you drink their blood. That's what the Tremere were really after.

There's a run-down old shack that lies somewhere in Upstate New York, and from what I've heard from
the locals, the ghost of William Henry Harrison is tethered there. Yeah, you know what else? That
Moros with the Free Council, the Adept of Death who calls herself Talitha Cumi? Yeah, she's been
visiting that shack, and all the Awakened in Syracuse know how much the local Hierarch pisses her off.
In fact, it's been near one month since the Hierarch there took power...


I met a kid, just began walking the Watchtowers, without a mentor or patron or anything to guide him.
He says he was walking with his last mentor, his mother of all people, when he spied this dingy little
man, looked like a militia type. Guy looked like he was staring a hole into the two of them.
Anyway, this kid isn't looking where he's stepping, and steps on a crack.
He says his mother's spine fractured into pieces, and the militia man disappeared after that. I'm not sure

what it means, but I have some suspicions. There's all these old wives' tales, all these superstitions that
we think came from the Supernal. But what if something else made them up? What if that something
else doesn't like us?

There are... things... out there, the universe's twisted idea of an immune system - and they take people
to make up the difference. I've met a few who escaped. The process twisted them, and destroyed their
souls - fed to stoke the furnace that lights our power.

The Men in Black are real, man! Nah, man, just listen. Hell, no, they ain't the Guardians. Yes, I'm sure.
They ain't even those traitorous Seers.
At first, I thought they was those whatchacallim - Banishers; that's the name. Nope. I even checked
their auras. 'Sfar as I can tell, they were just some guv'ment suit-types with some space-age gizmos.
I know! Just like that movie with the aliens.


Everybody picks the shadow name that they feel best represents themselves. You know: the coolest
sounding, the one closest to your heart. Well don't. That's just plain stupid. A shadow name you picked
will define you better than any given name could. - Bob, 3rd degree master, Moros.

You know Bob from Brooklyn? Yeah? Well, he said the exact same thing, always trying to keep his
name, image, whatever bland and totally nondescript... never saw him for years, figured the Pickled
Rose cabal finally caught him. Then I see him on the street, and he's the blandest, most non-descript
person you know, man. We chatted, totally inane stuff, and then he fixes me with this look and says to
me, he says, "the map is the territory."
I had to leave then... the street was swarming with chihuahuas.


A funny thing's been happening with every mage who's died in the past ten years. In the first two years
after their deaths, mysterious fires and computer errors destroy all governmental records of their
existence. In the three years, their image begins to fade from photographs. After that, everyone who
knew them will slowly forget them -it always begins with forgetting the colour of their eyes for some
Now, I myself don't much give a shit. Dead's dead, right? But knowing they'll be forgotten really gnaws
at some Awakened, and I know a trick for dealing with it. Children's rhymes -lullabies, skipping rhymes
and nursery rhymes and that, are the one things that won't fade. If you want to be remembered, make up
a rhyme containing your name (your real name) and whatever things about yourself you want
remembered, and teach it to all the kids you can find. Keep it simple -they'll forget or mangle something
too elaborate, and you'll have the comfort of knowing a small part of you at least will live on after you
Why is this happening now? I don't know, but I don't think it's the first time something like this has
happened. For instance, ever hear of the mage Margaret of Daw? No, neither have I. Neither have I.


You know the street in Hollywood with all the stars embedded in it, the Walk of Fame. Well you may
think that its just a way to glorify the entertainment industry but its not just that. Its actually a Free
Council ritual that will result in a mass awakening. Every name on there will Awaken when enough
names are there and the whole thing works like writing your name on the watchtower. The five
symbols, the TV and the film camera and stuff are code for the different watchtowers.
Don't believe me? Then how come so many relatively unknown people are on there? They need the
names man! And the famous people who aren't there yet, they're the ones that the Free Council figures
are plants by the Seers. I mean there's a reason that they refer to the "magic of Hollywood"... you
thought they weren't talking about real magic!
What I wonder is, what happens when the names on the street get inscribed on the watchtowers, and
the people whose names are there are dead?

In LA there's a man who wears sunglasses carved from obsidian. If you ever need to be reborn, to have
your old life vanish so you can start a new one, ever need to run so far so no one can find you, track him
down. Offer him your name and he'll eat it. You'll still be connected to your Watchtower, but to the
Sleeping world, you will never have existed. Never try to track him down a second time.


It's hidden in the High Speech... you know, how the words can empower our spells. It's the true power,
the magic of ages gone by. The real reason that our power has diminished into today is that knowledge
has been suppressed...
There are secret words, ones which have a stronger resonance. These invocations are perhaps better left
under lock and key. Some of them name terrible things. Time ago, these powers could be bound... but
no one is strong enough to do that anymore.
So, I found this really, really musty book in the Athenaeum, while I was looking to do some research on
High Speech, right? Only, this one was damaged... not by water, or fire, or anything like that. Someone
had splashed ink all over the writing on the pages, and clawed some of the rest out. But they were in a
hurry... they didn't really conceal it from magic, or didn't think to. It was a bit of a ritual, but I managed
to purge it of the damage. Really cool, right? It was a pretty old book, after all, and recovering
knowledge is always major props... except, I wish I hadn't. I tried reciting just one of the words in
there... and the world opened on me. When I used it in a spell, I think something came out of that hole
in the world... something small, so small, but terrible, so terrible...

Sleeper languages have been specifically designed not to be capable of transmitting the terminology of
magic. Only High Speech, the last truely Awakened language, can do so.
By controlling our language and vocabulary, they control how we think.

Yeah, I've been thinking about this. I mean, the High Speech is the language that draws upon the
Supernal Realms, right? What if there's a tongue just like that, but for the Abyss?

There is, but it's not in the words spoken, it's hidden in the pauses and silences between them.

So I heard some geek made a program that allows you to type in High Speech. I Googled around and,
well, it's true - there's even a support board. I got the download link yesterday, I'll mail it to you. Weird
thing is, no one knows for sure who wrote it. All sources agree, strangely, that the programmer is NOT a
Free Councilor.

It's not true that rock songs played backwards contain Satanic verse. But precisely one in every seventy
seven rock songs contains a solitary word in High Speech. Words most Mages today don't even know.

Well, I don't know about Doom, I haven't played it since I Awakened. That said, if you really want to
freak yourself out, load up Tomb Raider Anniversary. There are genuine Atlantean runes on the last
level. Some of them are common enough, but some of them are runes I've never seen before, runes that
exist in no books at the Athenaeum. I don't know what they say, but I don't doubt they are real.


So remember how you were complaining about 'schools today' and how you're thinking about putting
your daughter in private school or having her home schooled? The other day I got a temp assignment at
the Santa Clara school district. I was entering standardized tests - those stupid bubble sheets, remember?
- into the computer when I noticed something. All the kids who got the worst grades, the ones who
looked like they hadn't even bothered reading the questions, just filling the bubbles in at random... the
shapes made by the bubbles looked familiar. It took me a moment to realize it, but they were Atlantean
I started flipping through the cards, and a lot of them were like that, and near the bottom of the pile,
there was one where the kid had just written runes on the card without even bothering to fill in the
bubbles. That did it for me.
I think there's some bad mojo going down. Maybe you should send your kid to your mom's for a week.
and we should check this out.

Shadow names aren't as safe forever. If you stick with one shadow name long enough, it becomes your
real name. I figured this out because some Awakened guy I know tried to protect his kids by putting one
name on their birth certificates and then never using it. Didn't help. Whole family got wiped out by the
Seers. The names the kids got called every day - those were their names.


Never - never - cast a mind-reading spell on yourself. Just trust me on this one.

You ever hear that sound, you know, the one made by the wind but that looks like someone moaning?
Ever wonder why you only hear when you're alone? Trust me, when you hear it, don't look around with
your mage sight. Trust me.

If you wake up and your alarm clock read 6:66, you're in deep shit.

One day, I was drunk and I asked a question to my television. It answered. I never watched TV again.

There's something wrong with TVs, my friend. Have you ever watched someone with Mage Sight when
they're watching it? There's this... mist, that rises from the watcher into the set itself. Like... wisps of
soul being sucked away. Don't look at me like that, you know you feel it whenever you watch too much
of the stuff. The question you should be asking is, where's all that soul stuff going? I've got a theory, but
it's not something you want to hear. Could you look after these notes for a few days? Just in case
anything comes poking around my place while I'm... away. None of your business where. Just... checking
out a few possibilities.

I don't trust TVs. There's... Look, once, I was helping a friend set up his system. Brother had piles of
stuff. Tivos, DVD players, recorders, all sorts of sound systems, cable boxes, you know. Something we
did... Hooked it up all wrong and the TV... broke. Like, the screen shattered. And behind it... I hate
those things. They need to be destroyed.


I had a friend once... Stop laughing! Anyway, he thought about what some of the elder mages were
saying, about symbols and hidden meanings and all that. So, he decided that he would decipher the
hidden meanings of... license plates! I think he called it platomancy or something like that. He would
look at the next six cars or so and note their license plate, and then he'd try and decipher the series of
letters and numbers he got. He also said that you could learn a lot about someone just by reading his
license number. He did it mostly for kicks in the beginning, you know, to infuriate all those stuck-up in
the Silver Ladder and whatnot. But the more he did it, the more he took it seriously. He got right down
creepy at the end, saying a lot of things that made no sense or that made too much sense. We all
thought he was tired or something, so we told him to take a little rest. After not hearing anything about
him for nearly a month, we went and broke into his apartment. He was there, dead, like he was
screaming in pain or fear. He had begun to mummify after all this time. His place was a mess, he had a
HUGE collection of license plates, all over the wall, in a sort of mad order. There were also a lot more
piled all over the place. There were also lots of drawings, many sheets of paper full of strange
calculations. He apparently thought he was near to unlocking the secret of the license plates. Poor guy.
He was still clutching a message in his hand, written in his own blood.
What was in the message? Let's just say that I don't use license plates anymore. Heck, I don't even use
cars anymore.


Following up on the disappearance of Archmage Gallow. Only a black scorched circle was found where
he once sat to scribe in his journal. This is his last journal entry:
June 25th My niece is 6 months along now. I decided to "take a peek" and see how things were coming
along. I saw the child and the child saw me. I know where the mad gods hide. I know where the mad
gods hide. I know where the mad gods hide. I know where the mad gods hide. I know where the mad
gods hide. I know where the mad gods hide. I know where the mad gods hide. I know where the mad
gods hide. I know where the mad gods hide. I know where the mad gods hide. I know where the mad
gods hide. I know where the mad gods hide. I know where the mad gods hide. I know where the mad

gods hide. I know where the mad gods hide. I know where the mad gods hide. I know where the mad
gods hide. I know where the mad gods hide. I know where the mad gods hide...
The text continues for another 100 pages. His apprentice says there is something hidden in the text.
You can only see it when you use your peripheral vision. He says the words twist into strange symbols.
Once I informed my master, the council confiscated the book. I've never seen my master look so afraid.
Then there are the dreams I've been having. The terrible and wonderous dreams...

Never stand between two mirrors.


There are Grimoires writ into the very fabric of human language, tomes of knowledge and spells more
potent than any modern sorcerers have ever even dreamed of if you know what to look for. Some say
the Oracles seeded their knowledge into the Universal Subconscious, there to subtly inspire humanity
to rise to its full potential. Others say that the Exarchs built language as part of the illusionary prison of
the world, with hidden traps meant to hinder the escape of pitiful mortals trying to reach enlightenment
through language.
All I know is that there used to be a cabal of Free Council and Mysterium mages called the Principia
Linguistica who delved into the World Soul as if it were the biggest library in the universe, only to
discover that rather than being a library, it was more like a coral reef, ancient information submerged
under centuries of thoughtforms built on the skeletons of calcified memetic material. Bright flashes of
modern thought flit like fish through those waters of consciousness, but other . . things also swim those
I can't tell you exactly what happened to the Principia, but all I know is that there's only one of them
left alive and . . she . . can't even identify herself using her old identity because to do so would set off
thought patterns that would cause her own mind to devour itself.
I warn you . . don't go into those waters.


I was making pizza tonight (proper pizza, not the stuff they want you to think is pizza... but that's
another story), and as I was cutting up the red capsicum (the bell pepper, whatever you call it, but that's
another story), I thought to myself 'man, this thing's getting on a bit, it's wrinkled, sort of leathery and
moist; good thing I'm making pizza, it'll probably be inedible in a couple of days'. Later that night I
realised I hadn't bought any red capsicum. I only mistook it for a vegetable because it was about the
right size and shape, inside and outside.
I purged my fridge with fire and shall never eat pizza again.

Don't ever, EVER click those little advertisement links that Google puts on all the pages you visit. My
roommate was searching for porn once, and suddenly he got this horrified look on his face and ran out
of the room. I haven't seen him since. Hear he shot up a couple of post offices, though.

Never EVER cast a spell you dreamed of. Just... don't do it, okay?

Don't cast spells on rainbows - the inhabitants get mighty pissed.

Don't look at the aura of a coma patient. Trust me, something is keeping that person there and if it gets
a chance it'll draw you in with it.

Never, and I mean NEVER cast a spell in Esperanto.

Dude, stop that. You seriously don't want to know what an undead Internet looks like.

Never cast a spell while you're sneezing.


You never asked yourself why we still keep using oil even though it's bad for the planet and will likely
disappear in a few decades? Well... What if this is the goal? What if someone... Or something ...wants
the oil all gone? What if the burned oil is actually a sacrifice? What will happen, after the last drop is

The old Christian and Buddhist monks had it right: asceticism generates power. The greatest amount of
power, however, comes from literally starving yourself to death, giving your body itself a sympathetic
link with the vast majority of universal forces. What use is power then? Whoever eats the body gets the
power. Of course, there's always the chance that you'll gain so much power that you'll be able to live
through the moment of death itself. Say...why not give it a try? I'll take care of you...


Human cloning was perfected years ago but the sleepers don't realise it. In each case the result was
something that looked human but was more of a beast because there is no scientific way to clone the
human soul...
Now a mate of mine says that that new multinational company that opened up a research lab downtown
is claiming to have perfected the process and that they have cloned a human being capable of rational
I think maybe.. maybe by now something else has learned how to use the empty bodies we have so
obligingly created...


The Green, the Red, and the Grey.

Yeah, see, the Green, that means all the green plants. The Red, that's animal life -- that includes
humans. Red for blood, like green is for the chlorophyll in the plants.
Grey? That's the fungus, dude. The fungus. And here's why it matters. The Grey isn't from our world. It
came from somewhere, and it insinuated itself into the system. It's a parasite on the Green. The Green
loses mana to it, the Red loses mana to the Green to make it up. And the Grey--it sends the mana

You're not supposed to use cellphones while up in the air, right? They tell you it's because they want

your full attention in a crisis or someshit, but there's another reason, too. When used thousands of miles
above the earth, cellphones pick up certain kinds of... emanations. Call a number-- any number-- and
just listen to the background noise. I swear to God, I heard my mother. She died when I was thirteen.


So this group of truly screwed-up mages in NYC gets an idea. They start closing off parts of the local
sewer grid. Toilets back up, the place is foul, but these guys have more power than sense, so nothing gets
done by the city to fix it. Then the freaks start abducting people - homeless, kids off the street, old folks.
Turns out their plan was to create a ritualistic "Atlantean Rune" the size the entire neighborhood, using
blood spilled into the unblocked sewer pipes. The flowing blood was supposed to trace a mystic pattern
and do... something. Nobody knows.
What did happen was that the entire cabal was torn into bits of meat no larger than your thumb. Oh,
and there was a distinct lack of blood at the scene. And eyes. And any personal effects. Just lots of mage

You will never, ever find a bird within a one mile radius of a Hooters restaurant.


Have you ever heard of the Long Three Steps? It's pretty rare but, it seems like you can just take three
steps in any direction and, on the fourth step, you're just gone. Lot of people try really hard to do it -it
never works for them. It always seems to happen on the spur of the moment -someone's down, or scared,
or frustrated, and they just look around, say 'Fuck this' or whatever, and suddenly know how, and they
take the Steps. Nobody ever comes back to say what it's like wherever they go.
A bunch of organized crime syndicates, with a finger or two in the occult and maybe a line to the Seers,
have taken to calling it the 'Three Long Steps' when they make someone, y'know, 'disappear'. They're
really just plain killing them though. We think.

There's a room in the basement of the local library where there are 10 monkeys with open brainpans
typing "The Throne is Empty" over and over again in perfect unison on ancient typewriters with no
paper in them. I got the message after feeding a sheet into one but after the monkey typed out that
sentence, they all looked at me at the same time...
I ran the hell out of there as fast as I could.

Hey, funny you should mention TV. Next time you're watching it and there's a crowd scene, keep an
eye out for this one guy in the background. Here, I'll draw you a picture. It never fails, more then thirty,
forty people on screen at a time and he'll be there somewhere in the back. Movies, TV shows,
commercials, news, live events. Without fail. I've checked tapes too. He's been in everything I could
find back to when TV first started airing. Hasn't aged a day. Careful, though. I think he caught me
looking once...

Have you ever listened to TV static? Ever really -listened-? It makes everything so much... clearer.


Natural and artificial are more different than you'd think. Sure, they come from the same physical
materials, but they're not the same things. You can tell when you see their essense in the Shadowthey
just smell different.
Now, I'm not too sure about this, but I think something's reconfiguring out world. Humans got along,
what, thousands and thousands of years without technology and plastic and trains and shit, and now
they're everywhere.
Something's trying to colonize our world.

That thing they "rescued" from the Moon? Well they got tricked. It escaped within five years, just long
enough to grow its powers back. I guess it played docile and they didn't see it coming.

Traffic calming measures are created to delay emergency authorities from reaching those who know too
much until it's too late.

There is a building that people jump off of all the time. They are not committing suicide, they merely
believe the ground to be much closer than it is. A rune is built into the building making it a place of
mass sacrifice. To what purpose?

The local freeways form a complex pattern that is all but impossible to navigate. It too is a rune
affecting the mind to cause you to lose your way. Why?

People don't really need to sleep, it's just a way to keep too much consciousness from breaking the
world. Of course, with population growth there may need to be something added. That's why people are
getting more lazy.

The cereal Lucky Charms is a manifestation of the Supernal in the Fallen World and a good guage of
the metaphysical state of Tapestry. Each of the marshmallow shapes conforms to one of the Realms:
Arcanthus-Green Clovers, Magistos-Pink Hearts, Moros-Blue Diamonds, Obrimos-Orange Stars, and
Thyrsus-Yellow Moons. The introduction of Purple Horseshoes a few years back indicates that the
legendary Lone Watchtower has recently begun or will soon be exerting mystic influence on Earth.

Ever wondered why sugar is so widespread? It's because it makes us really tasty...

Children's stories are true. Not stories like Little Red Riding Hood or Puss in Boots. I mean the current
stories. Bloody Merry. The Glass Fingered Man. Momma Debby. Listen to the stories the children
whisper to each other in the school yard, and arm yourself.

I'm telling you, you may as well just forget about precautions and safeguards, and just go for the gold,
cause you're going down one way or another. This one guy, never left his Sanctum without disguising
himself and his aura 6 ways from Sunday, stayed away from crowds and deserted areas, was always
packing heat, and never talked to anyone without doing the full tricorder routine on their brain. One
night, he gets back home, and his pet goldfish leaps out of its tank and chokes him to death. No lie.


Someone, or something is killing the hookers.

Yeah I know the police report said that only one was killed, but did you check the reports from Detroit?
How about Phoenix, Nevada, Boston, and LA?
Every major city so far has reported a hooker dead of strange circumstances, but so what right? Hookers
get killed in the line of duty, they have dangerous jobs. Did I forget to mention that they all were killed
between 2 and 3 AM two nights ago? ALL of them.
We've got reports from over 20 cities already with definite hints that more are comin' in and we haven't
even looked outside of the States yet.
Over in Nevada, one of'em got taken into the hospital before she died of a massive hole in her
abdomen. Looked like she got tore up, or something tore outta her. Doctors reported that she was
screamin' gibberish before she bit it.
Bokor down in New Orleans called up the ghost of the one that got hit down there and the all she
would say is one thing. It was High Tongue, the word for "birth", but implying rebirth or reborn.
One they found here down on Belmont was scratching something onto the pavement in her own blood.
Cops couldn't figure it out, but I saw it before they washed it away. It was the rune for "abomination."
My shaman friend over in Phoenix got to one of the scenes before the cops. Says her guts were all strung
up in a wire fence in the shape of the word for "debt".
Whatever the hell is going on, it sounds big. Call me back, ok?


Ever see someone online angsting about how nobody loves them, their life is a waste, the world is unfair,
etc etc? For some people, it's true. For some people, nothing will go right, because it can't. There's a
common link between them, if you look deep enough, into employment records and motel registries and
car licenses. The same few people passed through their lives. Ordinary people, with ordinary jobs - they
aren't wealthy, or particularly mysterious, or crazy or anything. These 'catalysts' were there when the
bad times started (driving through town, working in the cubicle next door, delivering the pizza), and
that's about it.
But it gets really interesting when you find the common link between the catalysts.


Computer monitors and televisions are not toys. Down in the back there's a 'cathode ray gun'; it uses
magnetic fields to paint a picture on your screen with high-energy electrons. (Some people think you
can make weapons out of them. There are problems with this, but that's irrelevant to the topic at hand.)
The interesting thing is, if you put a positron (an anti-electron) through the same magnetic fields, it
goes the opposite direction. If you had an antimatter monitor, it would display a perfectly clear picture,
but rotated 180 degrees. Of course, antimatter physics state that it would blow up and take out most of

your chosen city.

If you find a monitor that displays its picture rotated 180 degrees (and doesn't destroy your city), I can't
recommend that you use it. Because it won't be showing pictures of our world...

Does anyone remember the First Paradox? We're still reeling from it.
The entirety of humanity is suffering from dissociative personality disorder. All one of us.

I first saw him in the reflection off a friend's Raybans. I saw him again reflected off the hood of a jetblack Jaguar. A naked man in the skin of a great cat with feathers in his hair, standing just behind me.
He wears this horrid mask, all beak and scales and empty voids where his eyes should be. He's always
there, I can feel him. He's behind you too, but you can only see him, only smell the blood on his hands,
when you look into a mirror as black as obsidian...


There's a pawn shop down on First Street that's run by this doddering old kook with ear hair out to
here, a bald patch so smooth you can see your reflection, and a duster that looks like it hasn't been
taken off since the 1800s. Last week, some guys from my street got together to knock the place over for a
quick buck.
They were admitted to the emergency room five hours later. Their eyes had been seared from their
skulls and they kept babbling about the great golden wings and a love so powerful it hurt. They all died
of heart failure before the night was through. Not one of them was over the age of seventeen...

Look carefully into the forehead of John Ashcroft. Photos show that he has miniscule Atlantean runes
carved into his forehead.

Thank god, man, you're the only guy other than me who admits to seeing them. Now check this out.
My mysterium contacts think I'm crazy, cause they don't see the runes, or at least don't claim to, so I
transcribed them into this piece of paper and sent it to them for them to check out, cause I'm not too
good with runes, and you know what they said?
They're not Atlantean...


There was a fast food van near us. Thai. Yeah, good stuff. Every day, guy'd open up, sell his stuff, go
home. I'd always be pretty late there, just when he'd be ready to pack up, and here's the thing: he'd
always have exactly enough to serve everyone who came along. No more, no less. Right down to the
drinks cans he'd have.
I was really late there one afternoon, last one in the queue. He served me, and burst into tears. Showed
me his tub: there was one spring roll left.
He wasn't there the next day. Nobody's seen him since.

All the modern things, like cars and such, have always existed. They've just been waiting in a mountain
for the right moment, listening to the irritating noises of dinosaurs and people dabbling outside.
Waiting to come out. And multiply. And take over.
It's their turn now...

One time I was walking along minding my own business, when suddenly I hear this giggling sound. I
look around and I swear to God, there was something that looked like a child staring at me. It looked at
me and said "They know," Then disappeared. Ever since then I see it out of the corner of my eye,
getting closer.

Music is a direct link to the Supernal. Every song has a small piece. But computers, man, they ruined it
all. It was never meant to all sit in the same place. You think the RIAA are a bunch of bastards, but...
but they know. You get too much of it in the same place...
Every song also contains a piece of the Abyss...

Not every song. Just most. That's because music is the stuff of souls, and most songs, like most souls,
have Quiescence imposed on them. But there are a few songs out there that are pure, free of the taint of
the Abyss. Those rare songs can rouse sleepers from their slumber and cleanse the Fallen World of the
taint, at least temporarily. If one of those songs happens to be playing, any magic performed in front of
sleepers listening becomes covert, as the dissonance of the Abyss is drowned out by the Symphony.

The reverse is also true. And it's getting worse. Music which has no soul, music mass produced by plastic
pop-tarts and greedy record execs has nothing Supernal about it, but it resonates with the Abyss. You
think what happened to Britney Spears was anything other than the work of the Abyss?


Everybody's got an MP3 player these days, right? They're everywhere! I had one more a while, played it
all the time. Then, one day, the battery crapped out in the middle of a walk. And I realized how long it
had been since I'd had heard the sound of snow falling. That got me thinking, what don't people hear
anymore? And not just with headphones and stuff. Radios. Tape decks. Heck, let's go further back.
What don't you hear because you've been whistling to yourself? Something used to have our undivided
attention, but we've been doing more and more to shut it out. I think MP3 players are going to push it
over the edge. Haven't you ever stood in a crowd of people with their heads in their IPODs and just felt
the tension building? It's about ready to stop being polite and smack us until it we listen up....


There once were nine maidens...

Every time I met one of them, they told me a dark and terrible but bright secret of the world. Whispered
to me words that opened doors into the Realms and the art that I thought was impossible. But, for that
knowledge, there is a price to be paid and the price is in the suffering of others.
What happened when I learned something? Within minutes of the knowledge...I learned of 9/11, the

Costa Concordia disaster...and, there are four more maidens left.

I'm scared of who will suffer for what I'm about to learn next.

Ramble of the Created


It's a dog eat dog world, my brother. You know how the Pandorans want to eat us? Well guess what happens when
we eat them? That's how we become Redeemed. Trust me.

The New Dawn? Mortality? A pipe dream.

Our fate lies with the Pandorans. You ever wonder why there are so many? Its because we turn into Pandorans
rather than achieve mortality. This is why none of the so-called Redeemed ever remember their former lives.
There are no Redeemed.


You know how you have to create another Promethean to complete your Pilgrimage? That's not even the half of it.
You see, you can't actually create a soul. It's impossible; the purpose of our journey is to prepare our bodies to
accept a soul, not to create one. The only way we can get that soul is to kill one of the Redeemed, and take that
one. That's the reason some of us keep such close tabs on them; for when we're ready, and to make sure nothing
happens to them...
The actual soul comes from our Demiurge, you see? He's killed by the first, and after that we take turns until
eventually our Redeemed dies in an accident or of natural causes before one of us is ready. Once that happens the
qashmallim have to start the Lineage again with a new Demiurge.

T. S. Eliot was one of the Redeemed. Think about how much sense that makes.


We are dead bodies brought to a horrid half life through the defilement of divine fire. We spend so much of our
Pilgrimage focusing on the second half of our nature while ignoring the first. This is a mistake. When a human is
killed, they often leave a ghost behind. If a human is murdered, murdered for occult reasons, or something
profanes their body after death, the possibility of a ghost forming increases.
And what is a ghost if not a soul detached from its body? And what are we if not bodies detached from our soul?
There is only one way to truly become Redeemed. Find your body's missing soul and reclaim it any way you must.
Be careful, though. Ghosts can be slain, and you don't want to become a body without a soul.
That's where Pandorans come from.

Simple fact of Created life. The people who were us before we were us are gone. But sometimes, sometimes the
people who were us before we were us, don't go away. Sometimes they lurk around their bodies as spirits, haunt us

for taking their bodies. Sometimes our creators killed them to make us.
Those of us who were made from stolen lives, lives ended by our creators to become us, we can't Redeem. The sin
of our mothers and fathers are too much to be overcome. All we can do is ask our bodies for forgiveness for our
trespasses against them.

Ever examined demon-summoning? It's a remarkable art the humans have developed over the centuries. They sell
away their souls to demons, and the demons provide them with eternal life, supernatural beauty and strength,
whatever they want.
We, that is us, the Created, can buy those souls. Buy them for ourselves, to have. We just have to find the demons
buying them from the humans.


We don't die of old age. The Disquiet affects everything that isn't Azoth, including our own bodies. Eventually,
we all either are Redeemed or become Pandorans. Kill yourself while you still can.

You're going about it completely wrong. You are what you eat. Humans know this. Those Prometheans who hide
in holes and spend their days eating rocks and dirt? They'll never become human. Eating human food is better, but
that'll take you forever, and how do you get human food without getting a mob after you? No, the way to
becoming Redeemed is to eat humans.

Don't like how you look? Hey, no problem. Your body's more or less a more complicated form of clothing for your
Azoth, anyway; if you're really getting tired of those mismatched arms you can just replace one of them with a
better fit.
Actually, I heard a Wretched replaced his entire body piece by piece over a period of ten years like that, just to see
if it'd work.

Whenever you walk into a city for the first time, take some of the earth from the park or the beach -- any soil that
the city hasn't brought under its touch will do -- and smear it in the form of a Sumerian word on your chest. If you
do it right, the city won't hate you -- sure all the people and animals in it will -- but not the city itself. But I forgot
what the word is supposed to be, so good luck trying to figure it out.

Oh, no, you've got it all wrong. That's the old-fashioned way to do it, and it won't work for most modern cities. If
you want a city to accept you, you've got to figure out what the city wants. It's different for each city. For Las
Vegas, go lose some money in the slots. For Cleveland, carry a bit of pig iron around with you and then drop it in
the lake when you leave. For New York, it's got to be a piece of earth from wherever you were made, and you've
got to leave it in Central Park when you go. Stuff like that.

If you make a coat out of the skins of 5 humans, you can cancel the effects our presence has upon the world. But
they cannot just be any humans. They must be tied to your body's previous existence or to your Pilgrimage in some
way. You can tell if it's the correct one by the way the body lies once you have killed the human.
See! Mine is nearly finished. Only one more to go. I think the last one is the orphaned daughter of this body of
mine. Or perhaps it can be found amongst the family of its brother. No matter what, soon I can live among the
humans as if I were one of them.

You wanna know something freaky? We can create zombies! Just draw some of your glowing goopy Azoth-laden
blood and inject into the brain of the recently dead. They jerk to life and stumble around screaming and

thrashing. That is, until the Azoth burns out what's left of their grey matter.
It's a great distraction if you wake up in a morgue.
Just be careful. I've heard some of those brought back don't burn out. They turn into some of the nastiest
Pandorans ever.

Think about it, electricity. It heals us, and for some of us it gives us the energy to keep going. People use it to run
machines, and sometimes those machines do things they aren't supposed to.

Never look someone in the eye. You know how they say that they are windows to the soul? Well, guess what
someone notices when they look into your eyes?

Never harm a child. Ever. You think this is bad, what we go through now, the land poisoned and everyone hating
us? If you ever harm a child, your torment upon this Earth increases a thousandfold...but you are no longer allowed
to die.

We don't die. Well, Pandorans can try killing us, mobs can try destroying us, the earth can try to entomb us, but as
long as we're on the Pilgrimage, we'll never die of age. Ever.
But if you stop, then it comes for you. Time. Age.
I saw my creator quit the Great Work, and the next day, I found him crumpled over on the floor of our lair, aged a
hundred, two hundred years in a night.

Sometimes the creation process goes astray. The bodies don't turn into Prometheans, but they don't turn into
Pandorans either. They become something else.
The apotheosis on the slab is real! Those of us who have to go through the Pilgrimage were unclean somehow.
That's why we have to learn how to become human, because we weren't good enough to get it right on the first try.

We're God's chosen people. It says in the Bible, that God's first chosen people were hated by the world because
they were chosen by Him.
The Jewish people say it's them, but I think they stole our legacy, our connection to God. And that's why we're
empty. God loves us but we don't know why. And the world hates us, but they don't know why they do.


The Ulgan don't fit in with us. Think about it: four humors, four elements of alchemy. But ectoplasm? The
element of spirit and ghosts? Bullshit, man. They're something else. I've heard men a spirit begins to ride the flesh
of a mortal; what about a spirit riding the flesh of one of us?

The book Frankenstein is pretty much the gospel truth. Thing is, Shelley wrote four other books that tell the
stories of the first of other Lineages, with the same damn literal truth. You can pick them up at any Barnes &
Noble building. But for what it's worth, Shelley's still around, and you don't want to fucking meet her.

There's always five lineages at all times. Before the Frankensteins came around, sorts of alchemical freakish manwoman beings represented the element of Fire, although this was the alchemical rather than electrical fire. I think

they were called Brebis or something.

Frankensteins and electricity? Don't give me that crap. Does anyone with a scrap of scientific knowledge think
that fire and electricity are somehow related? No, all that electricity mumbo-jumbo is something done to prevent
how one of their Wastelands really look. Those brushfires I've read about in California? Yeah, exactly.

Isis never created Osiris in the Nile. In a river, but not that river. She had to take him somewhere where the water
was strong and pure. Somewhere like the Mississippi. You don't believe me, fine, but they say one of us saw Osiris
himself in New Orleans a few years ago.


An Ulgan may achieve mortality if he stays in the same haunted house for a year and a day. No matter how
terrible things get around him, he must not leave the house; if someone tries to exorcise the place, he must stop it.
At the end of the year-and-a-day, he will emerge a mortal man, and all the ruin spread by his disquiet will reverse
entirely, bringing beauty, virility, and good fortune to all it once blighted.
This is because an Ulgan's presence stirs up the angry spirits on the other side of the veil--on the "second ground."
For one year and one day they will riot; exhausted, they will sleep for a century, and the kind spirits will emerge in
full force, unfettered and unhunted by their brethren. For the Ulgan's sacrifice, they will grant him humanity.

A Frankenstein, conversely, may become human by killing and consuming the Azoth of 100 Prometheans. Of
course, I'd never mention this around one of them...

Somewhere, there's a Promethean who is walking all five lineages. He started as a Frankenstein, and eventually
achieved Rebirth. After he died, someone raised his corpse as a Tammuz, and so on. He's been a Osiran, a
Galatean, and now he's an Ulgan. He told me that this is his last time around. I don't know what that means.


I was travelling through the Cascades in Washington a while back. Kept off the roads, kept away from
campgrounds, trying to cool down my Azoth, you know how it goes. Then I was just outside Vancouver when I got
this sense that one of ours was out there in the woods. So, I followed it as best I could, right? Over hill and over
dale, across streams and through the forests.
Then I found who I was looking for. He was all covered in fur, stood maybe 7, 8 feet tall. Looked like an ape, but
his fur was stiff with dried mud. He'd forgotten how to talk a language, he'd been out there so long; so all we could
do was sit with one another for a while.
The last of us I told this to, he told me about ape-men in the forests where I'd been. The descriptions match up.
Bigfoot's one of us, man!


Frankenstein, the demiurge of the patchwork people. Supposedly he was a brilliant man, mad of course, but
brilliant. The Wretched keep saying he made his monster by himself, with no support.
What a load.
There's this secret society, the Council of the Free Throne, they were the ones to bankroll the creation. They
thought a new man would solve some problem they had with the universe, and Frankenstein gave them the new

The Wretched are puppets of this society to this day. Don't trust a patchwork man, even if he's part of your
throng. He'll sell you to the society that made him, and not even blink.

Our parts are all alive. I saw one of the Frankensteins chop off his hand and the hand kept moving. Like it wasn't
going to lie down and die. All of our parts can do that.
If you bring this up to an Osiran, boy, do they get this nervous look in their eye.

Frankenstein's original creation is still alive.

And so is Frankenstein. He's kept himself alive for centuries now, trying to perfect the process and create true
humans from the dead.


The Sphinx is a Pandoran. It's so huge that, luckily, the Azothic radiance of a single Promethean is insufficient to
awaken it. If it ever does emerge from Dormancy, it is going to be so angry about what human sculptors did to its

You know how Pandorans will turn into stone or wood after you leave them alone for a while? I once heard Jesus
was cruficied on a Pandoran, but the True Cross got split up into splinters and little pieces, so you don't have
anything to worry about for now. But if someone gets the pieces of the Cross together, well, let's just say I wouldn't
want to be anywhere near Golgotha.

You don't want to know what kind of Pandorans assume the shape of thrones...

Pandorans are our brothers and sisters. We're all used to this idea. They're a tragedy as well as a curse.
But that's not all they are. Pandorans can be Redeemed. They are our siblings and they are lost, but it is not our
duty to destroy them -- it's our duty to heal them.
A qashmal told me.
What? No, it didn't tell me how. Just that we needed to, and that it's up to us to find a way.

There's a Pandoran in Europe, a sublimatus Pandoran, one of the intelligent ones, and he's looking for the
Philosopher's Stone made by Sir Isaac Newton in 1717 and sent to one of his friends in Prague when he died. If he
can get it, he'll eat it, and if he eats it, he'll become immune to Disquiet, which means that he won't suddenly turn
into a statue if humans see him. What makes it even worse is that if other Pandorans eat his flesh, they'll be
immune to Disquiet, too.

Fortunately, he's stranded out in Mongolia, so provided he doesn't manage to capture himself a Promethean, we're
all safe.

The oldest, most powerful Pandoran in the world is an uncharted island in the South Pacific.
That's right, you heard me correctly. The Pandoran does not live on the island. It is the island.


The qashmallim are known to appear on television. There's a certain channel they'll appear every month or so,
and only we can hear their secret revelations and truths. From what I hear, one of them appears in the background
of some Mexican soap opera.

I heard somewhere that some of us, instead of attaining the New Dawn, destroy their own bodies and replace it
with pure Pyros. Yeah, Qashmal were once Prometheans.

Heck, man. What do you think Pandorans become when they're Redeemed? That's right... qashmallim.


You already have a soul. Only, it isn't in your body, not yet. That honor is reserved for humans. Our souls are
outside our bodies, living as beings of pure Pyros, prodding us along our paths and waiting for us to earn them.
That's right, the qashmallim do sound a lot like what I'm talking about.
The problem is, unlike us, they don't want to become part of the whole. They don't want to lose their
individuality and become human. So, when push comes to shove, you're going to have to hunt your soul - your
qashmal - down and kick its ass, like Jacob and his angel in the bible.
I've been watching the stars. I've been training up. I know where my angel is going to be, and I'm going after him,
tonight. See you on the other side.


Vampires? Prometheans. Their Demiurge was some Roman necromancer or some shit. They're so good at reading
and stealing memories that they fool their own selves about the truth.

Vampires? Hell, humans are Prometheans, just like us. God is their progenitor and Adam is the first. Lilith was his
first Pandoran, and Eve his first successful creation.
Disquiet? Have you read the news lately? Their presence kills the land, and even they can't stand each-other.
I'm telling you, either the Great Work is a joke, or becoming human is only the beginning.

You know how there's the Copper refinement and the Gold refinement, right? Ever wonder why the Silver
refinement isn't around anymore? Let me give you a hint -- werewolves fucking hate anything to do with silver.
Drives them batshit, just like the goddamn moon.

Three days ago, I met a human that wasn't afraid of me. He actually came looking for me. I was curled up in a
blanket in an alley at the time. He introduced himself as "Flagg", and said he was apart of some group of humans
called "Seers of the Throne", who are also "Mages". He knew everything, man. He said he knew why I was created,
and how I could become human. He had to leave though, but he parted saying that I would have to do something
for those Seers before he helped me on my way to Redemption. Then he gave me an address, and told me to meet
him there today, if I was resolved. Call me gullible, but after ten fucking years of eating earthworms and sleeping
in unfamiliar cities, unsure who is going to kick me awake next, I'm pretty eager to help him out, and see what he
can do for me.

There's an entire world of spirits, just beyond our senses. Ulgan can have limited contacts with them, but they
can't go there. Appparently, it is a very dark and forbidding place, full of strange things no one can comprehend.

I'm sure that, if we can ever manage to go there, we can gain very useful secrets for our pilgrimage.

An old throngmate of mine told me a story about some man--not a Promethean, not Pandoran, but something
else--that kills Prometheans and sucks the Vitriol out of their heads with a platinum straw.

I heard about these humanoid rat-monsters that want to tear down the wall between worlds. They kidnap Ulgans,
chop off their limbs, and cart the poor bastards around in boxes, letting their Disquiet open holes for spirits to seep
through. To keep 'em alive, the rat-things feed the Ulgan its own severed limbs.

You think it's just us who undertake the Magnum Opus to get a soul? There are wild animals, I've heard, that have
acquired human souls, and the sorcerers and witches you keep hearing about are just mortals with multiple souls.


There is a group of mystics out in the world who harvest souls the way one would pluck fruit from trees. They take
the souls from humans and use them for various purposes, such as draining energy from them or binding them to
other things. What's of interest to people like us is that they can give you a soul, for a little while at least. For few
days they can let one experience being human, for a price.
Unfortunately, it never lasts. The Pyros within us burns away the soul, leaving nothing but spiritual ash. However,
it is said if one could obtain a stronger soul, one of a mystic perhaps, it would last indefinitely within our furnace,
tempered by the fires of Pyros rather than consumed. But to obtain such a thing from them would be quite costly.

There is an Underworld. A land of the Dead. While it is closed to most of us, I heard that there is a Refinement of
Bones, somewhere, who learn to tap into its power, and even travel there.
Be careful though. We do not belong there. For what is not alive may not die.


On a metaphysical level, our Pilgrimage isn't just about gaining a soul, it's about gaining a name, a real human
name. Not just an ordinary name - lots of Prometheans have those - a name written in the Book of Life. It's
gaining that real name that makes a Promethean human.
There are humans who write their names in Books, too. Not the Book of Life - they all have that already - but
other Books - the Book of Power, or the Book of Chaos, or the Book of Wisdom. No one is ever allowed to write
their name in a Book without first going on a Pilgrimage of some sort.
Find these mortals. Ask their advice. Their Pilgrimages are not unlike ours.

There are people - well, I don't know, I guess they're people - who can pull other people's souls out! Yeah, that's
bad, but guess what happens if they try it on us. Yeah, they pull out the Azoth...and they aren't expecting that
shit. The sky itself rains down fire and madness at that affront.


There's something else using the pilgrim's marks. No, I'm not talking about those intelligent Pandorans. I'm
speaking of something far more secretive. If you listen well, when you're walking alone on an empty road, you can
sometimes hear its footsteps, just behind you. Most of the time, it does nothing. There are times, however, when
it'll leave a mark...

If you are able to get, and keep on you at all times, a relic of one of the redeemed, such as a finger, a tooth, or what

not, your can switch refinements with just a thought.

Ever watched that anime, Full Metal Alchemist? The whole thing has a message hidden in it, something meant for
us. A great alchemical truth. But we won't be able to know what it is until the manga ends publishing.

Have you ever heard of the Refinement of Orichalcum? They are those trying to understand the secrets of the
world, and 'tap' into it to attain the Aurora. Apparently, they all live in a secret island somewhere, with the
biggest alchemical library in the entire world.


I heard this from an Ulgan I used to run with. He told me that up in Canada there's a sort of a magic lake full of
Pyros called the Pool of Three Trials. If you can pass its three tests, you get three rewards.
Firstly, you have to find the damned thing. The reward for that is 'the strength you will find along the way' or
some cop-out like that.
Then, you have to fight the qashmal who guards the place. The reward for that is that you get to drink the water.
And if you drink the water... you get to be human. For three days and three nights, you get to be human. And
then, when the sun sets on the last day, you feel agony like nothing else you've ever experienced, and then you're
one of the Created again.
What's the reward? Well, being human for three days will teach you a lot about what it's like, and that can't hurt
the Pilgrimage. The challenge is going on afterwards. To be that close, and have it snatched away - aparantly, it's
drive more than one Promethean to suicide.
Yeah, I'd say it's bullshit, too, if it weren't for the look on the face of the Ulgan who told me the story. He was the
saddest Promethean I've ever seen, and you know what, I've never seen him since then.

There is only one true road in Colorado, and it's made up of all the false roads you see on the maps. It's part
highway, part county road, and part dirt and gravel. God help you if you take your Pilgrimage off that path.

Never walk on a paved road in Ohio, they know things. They tell you things that you can't get out of your head
and images that you can't get out of your mind.

I made a friend of a girl, a human girl, years back. She didn't fear me like all the rest did. She didn't make fun of
me for my cleft lip. She didn't make fun of me for my limp. She just said I was who I was, and she accepted me for
So I ran.
Something was wrong with her, wasn't there? There had to be. Didn't there?

Changeling Folklore


We aren't really who we think we are. No, the person that was taken died in Arcadia. You're
just a backup for the thing left in that guy's place.

That episode of the Twilight Zone where William Shatner has hysterics at some monster on the
wing of a plane in turbulence in mid-flight. Well, that's a true story!
What you don't know is that William Shatner played the fetch and that thing on the wing was
the real guy trying to destroy him. Never was afraid of flying!

John Barleycorn is the greatest of us.

It is said that he took on a Keeper during harvest festival and was able to use the forces of the
fields around him to rise up against that Gentleman. Tore him apart so much that he was
granted again his humanity. John Barleycorn refused and spilt his blood on the land; this field
remains fertile forevermore and the scarecrow that watches is something to fear.

I once heard that if you are every baptized by a true priest, you will lose your seeming forever
and get to be a normal person again. No, I don't know what a true priest is, either. I'm on my
sixteenth baptism, but I'm sure to find a 'true priest' eventually.

No way, man, you're going about it the wrong way. The reason you're not a person anymore is
because you're missing something. You lost it and need it back. What? I'm not so sure what it is
either. I heard one guy became normal again after getting the money owed to him before he was

You think you've got it bad? You don't know the meaning of bad. All you have are spots and
tentacles. I think you look dignified. I know a guy who knows a guy who came back from
Arcadia a girl! No kidding. Apparantly his Keeper preferred the company of women and didn't
much care what his victims' genders were before he took them. The Mask only does so much, so
his wife, kids, family, they see him as someone completely different. No chance there of taking
over from the fetch. So, next time you're complaining about your tentacles, think about that.

The story of Tam Lin is entirely true. All you need to become human again is the love of a good
woman. The true love, of a woman good enough to go with you into the deepest part of the
Hedge to face down your Keeper and hold you close while your Keeper's magic warps your flesh.
She's out there, and I'm going to keep looking until I find her.

Hear me out on this one, Adam and Eve were in a garden then ate an apple that gave them the

knowledge of good and evil? Goblin fruit. It's out there somewhere, the apple of knowledge. In
the Hedge, where Eden was before the Keeper YHWH expelled his servants. Adam and Eve
were Lost. The story in Genesis is an attempt to convey their experience, twisted through the

There is one lost Court that is supposed to exist, and one false Seeming that should not. When
this imbalance is righted, the universe will be aligned in harmony once more, warding the
Gentry from the real world.


Never trust a Manikin. The Keepers don't always take humans, you know. Sometimes they'll
take a fancy to a statue or wax figure or a doll, and...well, shit. You know the Pinocchio story,
right? The blue fairy turned him into a real boy, right?
The real boy was the fetch.
Some Manikins? They aren't kidnapped people who get artificial parts grafted in. They're
artificial things with human parts grafted in.
And who knows where the loyalties of something brought to life by the Keepers really lie?

You know about the Elementals? Yeah, here's the big secret. They were never human to begin
with. You see, in Arcadia, everything is alive. When they were moving into the Hedge in a
daze, the pieces of a soul they picked up weren't their own.

Ever heard the expression that people are changed by fame? They aren't changed. They're



Listen, you want to keep to the towns and cities (all two of them, 'less you count Newport
Gwent, which I don't) in Wales. I mean, yes, it's Britain, it's modern, everywhere is within
driving distance. Nothing untoward could happen here, right? Hah. Take Bill, who went nosing
down Brechfa way, some twelve miles or so from Carmarthen, with -- well, some local
acquaintances who have two skins, shall we say. So they ask him, does he want company while
he goes to locate this mystic whatchamacallit he thinks'll shield him from interested parties, as
it were, and being no fool, he says yes, because you never know what's lurking in those woods or
under those bridges. So they head into the forest -- during the day -- they're not fucking stupid -him on his own two feet, them on their four, and they come to this ruined cottage. Only there's
like these six or seven carved wooden posts carefully arranged around the place. Now the
carvings are facing away from them, so they can't see what's on them, but Bill knows what he's
about, and approaches the furthestmost one. He's just lifting it from its place and turning it
around to examine what he knows is his face carefully dug into the wood when he hears this
brief, attenuated wailing sound. And he knows he's alone then, which scares the shit out of him
because his mates weren't pushovers, you know, and had some freaky deal with the sewerbreathed batwinged hellbitch mother of all death-omens, or something. So he just takes the
post that's his and runs -- barely noticing that the other posts are covered in blood and trying

not to notice the huge thin thing (like if a bundle of fleshy twigs were a skeleton, is how he
described it) that was rising to pursue him. Bill's fast, like anyone who was taken up to run in ap
Nudd's wild hunt (or whatever the hell you want to call it) and he only barely manages to
escape the forest before the thing could get him. Never saw his friends again, took precautions
against ever seeing their ally, is now deathly afraid of trees. Buggered if I know if his little totem
pole was worth the effort. And that's South Wales. You really don't want to know what's up in
the North.

There is a story I heard, from an old Winter Court grognard. Apparently, way back when, a
young changeling became very rich through his own doing, in order to use his fortune as a
shield between him and the Keepers. Only, being rich wasn't enough, and he came to fear those
who would take his money. So he built himself a giant city under the ocean, where he could
live hidden forever. He brought with him all kind sof humans and changelings, too.
Apparently, things didn't go so well there, but the guy would not tell me anything more.

If you go to Blaen-y-Maes in Swansea and read Eliot's 'The Waste Land' backwards in front of a
burned out car, the Hollow Men will eat you. Or a white road will open in the Hedge, leading
who-knows-where (and I'm guessing that there'll be an invisible tag-along on the trip; no, it's
not Jesus -- I hope).


Under Worms Head, in the Gower, there's an old story that Gwyn ap Nudd (some
superannuated Welsh god) hides out in the caverns there in between bouts of duelling of
Summer for the hand of Spring and chasing down unlucky bastards as he leads the Wild Hunt.
He's Gentry (or some of the Gentry like to pretend to be him), of course, and there's some
pathway into the Hedge in them there holes. Not that you'd normally want to go in there, but if
you're being followed for whatever reason, feel suicidal and really want to lead the pursuit into
trouble, well...
Just watch out for the cwn Annwn. Actually, that's good advice anywhere in Wales. Big black
dogs, like you get in a lot of places, or white greyhound type dogs, with red eyes and ears. If you
see them, the Hedge is either close or you're already in it...
'Least they're not corpse-birds, though. Fucking things give me the creeps -- but they've more to
do with the skinchangers than us or our erstwhile former captors.


I stay the fuck away from the border. I cut it awfully close, yeah, but Marfa and Alpine'r far
enough that I don't gotta worry a whole bunch 'bout what goes on there. See...thing is, the
Inju...the Indian Lost, they were here, just like us. 'Cept they didn't use courts of seasons, they
worked offa a medicine wheel pattern. Directions. North, South, East, West. That was them.
'Dunno whether it was Europeans comin', or somethin' worse that broke up the direction
courts, but the border is like a big tombstone or net for those courts. I heard about one dumbass
who fled El Paso just after gettin' outta his jail, only to disappear the minute he stepped his foot
into Mexico.

As for the direction courts? Well, hell, boy...I know real well when a bad wind blows in from
the west. Stick around, I'll teach you a thing or two...


In Abilene, Texas, in what passes for downtown, there's a tobacco shop called The Leaf. Nice
place. Big comfy antique chairs and sofas, chess tables, live blues sometimes. A lot of the college
kids hang out there, whether they smoke or not. And every now and then, an old cowboy
comes in. The real deal. About seventy, he looks. Faded Levis, broad-brimmed Stetson,
snakeskin boots, handlebar mustache the color of gunmetal, eyes like black bullet holes in a
leathery face. His belt has one of those big buckles on it, made of silver and turquoise.
He's not one of us.
He's not one of Them, either, I'd swear to it.
But if one of the Lost is is in The Leaf when he walks in (and three times I've seen this
happen), he will make eye contact with them on his way out. Look them right in the eyes, and
Three times, this has happened to me. It's happened to all my friends.
And every time it does, something good happens to us by the end of the day. Some piece of very
good luck. First time it happened to me, I found a wallet full of fifties lying in the street, two
days before I'd have been kicked out of my apartment. The second time, I met the girl I fell in
love with. Third time, I found an old Sikh knife made of pure iron in a thrift store.
He's never spoken a word to any of us. When we try to follow him, he seems to vanish.
Everyone seems to know of him, but nobody knows anything about him.
A month or two back, I was going through some old issues of the Abilene Reporter-News in the
library basement (looking for information about Taylor County's Autumn King, who's older
than dirt, and who had us in hock to him up to our nuts at the time) and there he was: February
12, 1931, part of the crowd lined up outside the brand-new Paramount Theater to see the early
release of Dracula. Same clothes. Same eyes. If anything, he looked older in that picture.



Ever wonder where those guys at the Goblin Markets come from? Those goblin-things?
A guy I know says that an old buddy of his has a Hollow out near the old high school. Once, on
a lark, he decided to let this oily, yellow goblin fruit keep growing inside the place. He picked
and ate all the other fruit, but this one he left alone. The thing grew until it was the size of a
watermelon, put out some weird bumps and kept growing.
Then one day, the guy comes back into his Hollow and an oily, yellow-skinned goblin is
offering to make him a good deal on some silverware.

Think about it, dude. Think about it.

If you eat nothing but goblin fruit, you'll turn into a goblin.



Now, it's funny you should mention Jesus. See according to some stuff I read before they took
me, all the stuff they say he did before the Crucifixion was made up later; it was the appearing
after he died and the vanishing corpse that made all of those stories. Now, look at it. Normal
carpenter lives normal life, making tables and chairs, suddenly appears before the masses and
starts preaching like a crazy man, after a sudden personality change. Eventually gets caught, and
killed. When they check the tomb a bit later, they can't find a corpse.
Well, I suppose finding some dirt and leaves, woven together with donkey hair, would remind
you of the body. Get it! Jesus was a fetch! A while later he re-appears, talks to people, then
vanishes again. See, I wonder if his Keeper caught up with him, because, well, I had to look
after my Keeper's dungeon, and there was a man tied up in there, who looked old, even for us.
He tried to talk to me, and when I escaped I remembered him, and checked the language.
It was an ancient Semite tongue!


Never, ever, ever have sex with your fetch. For most of us, that's not a problem. If you're
straight, it's not even a temptation. If you're not, well, I mean... ugh. Your fetch? Anyway, I
knew this one chick, this Fairest, her time in Arcadia had her all messed up. Her Keeper... well,
you get the picture. So, she met her fetch, they hit it off, they started having coffee, they started
having dinner, one thing led to another - anyway, she implied to me that one thing was about
to lead to another - and then she vanished. Just dropped out of sight. I looked all over for her. I
did find her fetch, though. Thing is, her fetch didn't show up as a fetch on my wonk radar. It
was like she had turned into a perfectly ordinary person. I never had the guts to ask the fetch
what had happened.

If you impregnate your fetch, which is hard to accomplish in most cases, the resulting baby will
have your soul.

The Lamb Farmers are a group of fae believed to take those fetches who are infants and replace
them with real children whose parents had abandoned them. The members are those who have
grown up from as young an age as mortally possible as changelings. Many are said to be quite
quite mad. What happens to these fetches is a mystery.

There's no such thing as a fetch! You're an amalgam of a piece of that person's soul and Hedgestuff. The reason our fetches act so different from us is because they're missing a chunk of their
soul- it screws them up good. I'm not sure which way works to rejoin your souls, or if they both
work- but I've had it with this existance, so I'm trying both. I'm luring him out to the woods
this fall, and one way or another, I'm going home.



Listen. No. Seriously. Shut up and listen. Get very quiet.

Good. They're gone.
Now, I want to tell you a story. Once upon a time, there was a boy who was haunted by his own
shadow. Everywhere he went, he was afraid his shadow would bring night with it, because of
one long, terrifying night ruled by his shadow.
The thing is, his shadow was always there. Because he cast it.
Do you get it? We MADE our Keepers. They filled up a role in our lives, they gave us validation
for some fucked-up corner of our minds... we ARE our Keepers. You think I'm playing? Why can
we enter dreams? Why can we change our dreams? It's because we dreamt our Keepers up. We
did it! It's all on us!
Shhh... now... they'll hear.


I've been following this Keeper for a while, he's got a real fiendish trick for abductions. See,
most of us assume there has to be a chase, a capture, an abduction. That takes a lot of time on
our side of the Hedge, right?
Well, Fae don't take to time right, and this Keeper, he takes you and replaces you as you cross a
threshold. Of course, you just steal that first guy to cross a threshold, you're gonna get a lot of
details wrong, so the fetches left behind are easier than normal to spot.
Think I'm joking?
8:22 AM, September 19, 1987, Clarence Boyle is on a flight from Atlanta to Chicago. Boyle's
terrified of flying, so his wife advises him to stay in the plane's bathroom until he can relax.
Clarence gets up, steps across the threshold of the bathroom, and disappears into the Hedge. A
fetch appears a couple minutes later, and that's the last anyone on this side of the Hedge saw of
the real Boyle. Fetch isn't scared of flying at all. In fact, I have it on good authority that he got a
private pilot's license.
8:22 AM, September 19, 1997, Elijah Mohammed Rashid, a convict in Georgia, wakes up, does
his little Muslim song-and-dance for the morning, then goes to breakfast. Thing is, the Elijah
who prayed, and the Elijah who crossed the threshold of his cell to get to chow, weren't the
same Elijah. This new Elijah undergoes a shift in personality, renounces Allah, and got knifed
by some white power goon since his gang wasn't backing him anymore.
And these are just the fellas I met personally during my time in that hellpit. I did some research,
looking for people undergoing sudden shifts in behavior, and it seems every decade on the dot,
this Keeper steals a person crossing a threshold somewhere within Georgia, going back to shoot,
1877 at least?

I'm just saying, I don't go indoors anytime during September. Just to make sure.


That's nothing. I have it on authority, nice as you please, that everything going on in Iraq right
now is just a smokescreen to keep us away. Everyone says that the real monsters are over here,
but have you ever stopped to wonder about all those digs that were closed down right before war
broke out?
Yeah. Genies, or something like 'em; djinni, jinn, jinnies... They're Keepers; the Blue Boy
recognized his when it came out of an old ring fenced from the Baghdad National Museum.
Let's just say the shoe was on the other foot after that.
Least it had better be true. The goblin who told me's walking around topside with my kid's next
five birthdays. Hope he likes tar.

Nobody with a social security number that ends in three has ever been taken. On the other
hand, nobody whose social security number begins with seven has ever come back.

The United Kingdom has a deal with the Others. They take people who piss off the
government and leave loyal, docile fetches. What the government doesn't realize is that the
Gentry aren't getting anything they couldn't get on their own - and sooner or later they are
going to stop playing their game.

Never, ever, ever buy Gentry magazine. You can read it if you have to, as long as somebody else
pays for it and handles the transaction. Trust me on this one.


Got a story for you, straight dope, too.

You know, too much radiation is bad for you. Apparently, it is positively awful to the Keepers.
Guy I knew was dying, and decided that he was going to take down his Keeper with him, and
somehow got it into his head to poison him with a sword of radioactive cold iron.
Keeper got stabbed by the blade a few times, and went down. Strangest thing... girlfriend at the
time escaped from the same Keeper, and she felt a sudden sharp tug in her head. "Like
somebody cut a leash I never knew about," her words. Nobody, and I mean NOBODY ever saw
that Keeper again, and rumor around the Goblin Markets said that nobody was going to pay for
any bounties from that Keeper, ever again.
Yea, it sounds like a suicide play, but if it's possible...


You've heard of the Djinn right? From Arabian myth... yeah, "genies" if that helps you... Well,
these guys are according to legend capricious sons of bitches, known to grant wishes with
dangerous loopholes, elemental tricksters embodying forces of nature, creatures of regal
inhuman beauty and/or horror neither of Heaven nor Hell.... sound like anyone we know?

Yeah, it's Them alright. Thing is though, the whole idea of being bound and imprisoned by the
Seal of Solomon... that's why he's in the bottle in the story alright! Jesus, crack a book
sometime... if that's true, and They can be bound and imprisoned by mortal means... So yeah,
that's why I'm heading out East, cause if there's something to this then I gotta know!

You can trick your Keeper into thinking that you're back so they never look for you. See, all you
need to do is get another person to take your place. They never really pay much attention to
what the person looks like. All they want is the place you were occupying filled again without
them doing anything.

Lemme ask you a question. When your Keeper told you to do something, how the hell did you
know what he wanted done? Huh? How'd you understand him? I don't exactly think the Gentry
speak the Queen's English, do you? But you understood every word that came out of that old
troll's gob, didn't you?. Me too. Here's what I think. I think I knew the Others' language, and I
think you did too. And I'm going to remember it. Words have power! When my Keeper rolls
up, I'll tell him to piss of, and if I do it in his own native tongue, I reckon he's got to do it.


You know of mortal magicians? That there are humans who haven't been stolen by Them who
can do stuff. Well, their powers can do things with nature which we have no clue to do. They
don't use Contracts!
They break the rules. They break nature's god-damn rules!


So I'm walking down this alley one night right-no it doesn't matter why, just shut up and listenand this wacko jumps me. He was moving like lightning I swear and he had friggin' fire comin'
out of his fingertips.
So once I'd clobbered the bastard into submission, I asked who the hell he was. He just giggled
and said he was from Arcadia, that he's been there. He sure as hell wasn't one of us and he
definitely wasn't one of them.
But he sure didn't sound like he was lying...

I met a Manikin yesterday; well, at least I though she was a Manikin. She had this odd way of
keeping up her Mask until she used a Contract, and I didn't know any of the ones she used. I
mean, I didn't know there was a specific Contract with Electricity...
She was so very beautiful....


According to this one guy I met at Court, there are these rotting, soulless corpse-people running
around, hidden behind their own kind of Mask, trying to prove themselves worthy of being
ensouled, or trying to make a soul inside themselves, or something like that, and until they
manage it, animals, people, even the earth itself hates them. This guy, he wasn't too clear, if
you know what I mean. A little... touched. Anyway, he said that if you hung around them and

waited until exactly the right moment when they were about to receive, or make, or whatever,
their souls, you could swoop in and take it for yourself, and get to be human again.
Sounds like a crappy thing to do, yeah. Sounds pretty outlandish, too. But if it were true...


Oh, shit! Be careful, there! I saw something like that in Vegas.

We went out there to help a buddy deal with his fetch, and what attacked us... well, it was like
you said. No real mien to speak of, but sometimes you'd see it, like a lightning flash, and he's
stitched together with wire. Most fucked-up thing I ever saw.
Best part: We beat the thing, and it fell apart into old flesh and metal.
You know what I think? My buddy's fetch made himself another fetch. How nuts is that?

I have some friends among the magicians, those humans who can warp reality. They're not so
bad, really. I've been letting them do experiments on me - nothing creepy, just looking at me
really hard. Really, the worst it ever does is tickle. And one of them is really hot. Anyway, I'm
telling a story here. So, a few days ago one of them tells me that their results are almost ready.
She says that each and every changeling they've studied has had the potential to be one of
them, but once the Others get their claws into us, we never will.
What do you suppose that means, huh?


I'll tell you what that means, pal. You can't EVER trust wizards. What I hear from this one
Autumn Court redhead, the whole lot of them sorcerers are crazed as briarwolves to get into
Arcadia. Yes, INTO Arcadia. Like I said, crazy.
Think about it: the wizards' religion, their entire society, revolves around veneration of some
kind of 'higher world' they can't get in to. They wage their iconoclastic, nerdy feuds over who's
got the right ideas about it, and who's going to get to be the chosen one to enter it and muck
around with the universe. Each one of the buggers has the ego of a Fairest, that's for sure.
Creation myths are great, but that 'higher world' is real. Redhead tells me that's where the
witches' damned spells come from.
More than hexes come from there though. I think you know where I'm going with this.
Your 'new friends,' are using you, pal. Once they're done with their little inkblot tests, they
WILL try to get you, dead or alive, to take them to Arcadia. Yes, they can use you dead.
Redhead figures that they'd even stoop so far as to use your stolen soul as bait for your own
freaking Keeper, in hopes that they might catch a ride. Just so they can keep experimenting...
Stay away from them, if you know what's good for you- or us.

They say there's these things out there that can change their species. I'm not talkin'
werewolves, neither--who knows if they're out there somewhere. I just hear rumors. But anyway,
I'm talkin' things that can become gigantic frogs, or weasels, or... hell, kangaroos even. And
yeah, I know what you're thinkin': might just be some Beast that's more Beasty than most and a
little liberal with his Glamour. But I'm sayin' that these things look like humans 24/7, at least
until they decide to go all Animorphs on you and turn into flamingoes or somethin'. Watch out
for those guys--word is that they don't have many morals when it comes to snacking on people.


You know werewolves, right? That they're big, hairy, filthy brutes with no sense of style who
spend all their time running around killing people.
You don't know what they do.
I've talked to them, and they seem to spend all their time protecting "shadows". I know, odd.
But then I thought; don't They use our shadows to make fetches. So, I reckon, werewolves are a
type of Beast who worked out how to patch up their soul with something else, not of the Hedge
or the normal world, and committed some kind of sin doing so ('cause I heard they're split
between two factions; some who are sorry for what they did and try to make it up, other who act
like Loyalists), and so now act as reality's defense against the Others as penance.
I wonder if we could make a contract with them? The contract of Theriomorphism, now, that'd
be something.

I was walkin' through a cornfield one time, and I see this scarecrow hangin' on a pole. I didn't
pay attention until it started hoppin' around and chanting somethin' in a language I've never
heard. Scarecrow Ministry? I don't think so, cause this thing had a few powers I've never seen or
heard of. Like it could use cornstalks to heal "wounds" in its sides, and it seemed like it could
summon crows from miles away. I don't know what the hell it was, but I got outta that cornfield
pretty quick, you can bet. Just goes to show we ain't even close to the only spooks in the

You're wrong. You're wrong! The Fae's creation was never in Arcadia, it was on Earth, was, but
not any more. It was called Atlantis, and those almighty mortals, the ones with the magic
powers? They call themselves mages now.


Most wander the Hedge getting closer and closer to Faerie. Some say it's like climbing stairs to
Arcadia. Did you know the stairs don't just go up? Those that live in the Hedge learn the
directions. They can tell where the Hedge wants them to go and can choose to go against it.
The Hedge exists for a reason. Don't go against it. Even the Fae won't go there. If you look at
Arcadia as heaven, then the other way exists hell, and if you think the Fae are bad...

There are other realms out there besides Arcadia and the Hedge. Don't believe me? Just try
entering the Hedge by going downwards. I wouldn't recommend it though, there are things
down there that want your body and soul to make things out of it.

No matter what, never, EVER use the "golden arches" of a Mickey-Ds to enter the Hedge.


That ain't true. There's a McDonald's in West Memphis, Arkansas where the arches touch the
ground. Big things too. If you go through the left arch, you'll come out in a Hollow that looks
like a massive fast food restaurant, with tons of glass doors that are all locked and surrounded by
glass walls on three sides, all glowing white with a powerful brightness. Food is cooked up and
ready to serve, and each one is a goblin fruit with amazing qualities. If you go through the right
arch, the place is the same, except there's no food and the doors are unlocked. Each door leads
to some location across the country, usually a portal in or around a fast food place. It's like a
trod nexus.
Apparently whoever owns or made the place never comes around, but it's always kept up.
But, I was also told, never enter either arch during the breakfast, lunch, or dinner rushes. I
thought it was to reduce the chances of a mortal wandering in after you, but, I'm not so sure.


There is a secret order who made a contract with Time itself. They did so hoping to erase their
own abductions, and they did. But now the contract still is out there, even if the signees have
ceased to be. Lost that is. If you found it, you could sign it and then get the power to turn back
the clock. If you found it that is.


I can't believe you fell for that crap. Man, I know you, you're a smart guy, you don't usually fall
for con jobs. I thought you'd see through this one.
No, listen: when you made that promise, to serve and epitomize and blah blah blah, you felt
that Pledge sink right into your soul, right? Right. Because it's real, it's a Pledge to the season,
everyone knows that.
Wrong. Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong. You swore Summer Court, right? Let me guess, they
gave you some story about the founder hunting down Summer itself and beating it until it
agreed to help? And you honestly believed that a flesh and blood person could hunt down a
season? Of course it's crap, same as all the other Courts' stories. You can't talk to a season.
But you know who you can talk to, or hunt down, or make a deal with, to gain a little bit of
power, and who seems an awful lot like an elemental force of nature? Them. Yeah, with a
capital Them. My own Keeper lived in a land of eternal snow and ice. You tell me that don't
sound like no Winter, and you're lying. Face it: you swore an oath to a bigger Keeper to keep
the rest of them away. Only trouble is, someday he's gonna collect...


Why are we here? How could a just God allow us to be captured? To be tortured? To be
changed? Oh, my brothers and my sisters, let me tell you the truth. Let me tell you the secret
truth. We are the tithe to hell. When the Good Lord made this place we call Creation, he stole
its Seas, its Fire, its Winds, and its Firmament from the Princes of Hell itself, and to keep them

from rebelling, he promised them a tribute of souls... and we are those souls! But God is just and
merciful, my brothers and sisters, as just and as merciful as he is wise and crafty. The great
Contract he made with the Forces of Darkness specifies that we can be stolen, but it does not
require that we be kept. We can steal ourselves back, as all of us have done, and continue to do
every day. So be strong, my brothes and my sisters. Be strong, for your sacrifice sustains the
world. You are the blessed! You are the righteous! You are the kingdom of heaven!

Privateers tried to make a contract with the Others to work a deal, but didn't read the fine print
and are now their slaves. THE DEVIL IS IN THE DETAILS.

Look, the reason you and your girlfriend can't have kids is that you aren't married. Don't look at
me like that! No, I don't care about your pledges, or how much you love each other. Don't you
know your history? In medieval Europe, peasants needed the lord's permission to marry, because
they were the lord's property. Now, whose runaway property are you and your girlfriend?
Without your Keeper's permission you can't marry, and in the logic of Faerie, no marriage
means no babies. Even killing your Keeper won't do the trick. Then you're just murderous
runaway property. What you need to do is trick your Keeper into giving you permission to
marry. Yeah, good luck. Don't whine at me; no one ever said true love was going to be easy.

There are a set of clauses you can learn, part of a special anti-contract contract, that exploit the
loopholes in the Gentry's contracts to cancel the effects of fae magic. The ultimate power lets
you curse someone so they can't use the contract of your choice for a time. Used against one of
the Others, it's apparantly catastrophic. As soon as I master those contracts, I'm headed to

The first leaf that falls in a freehold, if eaten will grant you immunity to Autumn's contracts for
a year and a day. But it has to be the first leaf that falls from a tree in the entire land without
any intervention. Good luck finding it.

Heard the same thing about the first snowflake & Winter, and the first blossom & Spring....
don't know about Summer.

The kiss, my friend. The first kiss of summer. Yeah, it's a bit cliched, but it works on you an'
her. Or, y'know, you an' him, I'm not here to judge...

Whatever you do, don't eat any samples at supermarkets and strip malls. By eating those things
you are bound up in an oath with the spiritual embodiments of those places.

You ever hear about a contract whose catch is that you gotta eat a cocoon?
Well, aside from the yuck factor, I hear that you better make damn sure there ain't a caterpillar
inside. I heard about a guy who picked the "wrong" cocoon back in the '60s. Next thing you
know, his freehold's being terrorized by some crazy giant butterfly! No kidding! Worst part was
that the sightings actually got through to the mortals, and reporters and sightseers flocked to
West Virginia for weeks. Last I heard of that unlucky cocoon-eater, he vanished in the dead of
night. His motley only ever found a little pile of pollen.

Watch out about learning clauses in a contract with Glass. 'Cause we all can learn clauses in
the Mirror contract, right? Only learning two contracts with similar things gives Whatever-It-Is

some wicked power over you. Lets Glass break your agreement if you ain't careful. I saw some
guy try the thumb-licking trick one time, and damn if his glass armor didn't turn inside out and
start slicin' his jugular! Freaked the hell outta me, but at least we managed to save him. Last I
heard he'd sworn off ever bargaining with Glass again, and he was startin' to get famous for
goin' all Carrie Nation on any windows he passed on the street.

Always have candy on Halloween, otherwise you'll regret it. No, the Autumn Queen won't do
harm to you, it's just always been this way. Some days have power, especially holidays.
Halloween is one of those days, it's strong enough to be considered a pledge. What exactly
happens if you break the pledge? I have no clue, but I've heard enough about motleys
completely losing their sanity enough on this day that I'm damn well careful about it. Living in
the middle of nowhere doesn't help either. Leave out a bowl of sweets anyhow. Something
always takes it and you've fulfilled the pledge until next year.

Someone once tried to forge an entitlement of the unentitled. The idea was that everyone was a
member, and thus it'd be the most powerful entitlement of all. A pledge to everyone who was
The story goes that the person who forged it then turned traitor, and uses his pull over everyone
without an entitlement to help drag them back to Faerie. You want to stay free? Join one of
those other secret societies as fast as you can.

If a changeling becomes a police officer, the pledge to serve and protect can be even more
powerful than the chains of their Keeper. Because they serve the Law, and no one is above the


The most dangerous things for a fugitive from Arcadia aren't some bounty hunters - no, what
you really have to watch out for are Traps.
Traps are places which the Fae created to attract and collect even the most careful changelings,
though these places can also be used to buy your freedom - by sacrificing a loved one, family if
possible, to it.
Traps, however, do not transport their captives directly through the Hedge: they exist just close
to the Hedge and are usually very difficult to find by mundanes. Captives often exist for years,
maybe decades in a trap, forming strange societies or just surviving in the weird environment of
the Trap which is always a twisted version of some "normal" location.
The most dangerous Trap is said to be a remote tropical island in the South Pacific. It shows on
no map or satellite pic - but it's rumored to be surrounded by a superstrong EM-field that can
cause airplanes to crash...

I don't know about you, but myself, personally ... I hate the woods. You won't catch me dead
upstate. Too many trees. Too many dark and wild places that look a little too familiar in the
wrong kind of ways, if you get my meaning. The Hedge grows thick out in the country and if
you get yourself lost out there, chances are you're gone for good. If I want to see nature I'll just
put on the Discovery Channel.

I heard from a friend of a friend that he once had a friend who decided to categorize the
Keepers. He studied them obsessively, writing his findings in this big leatherbound book. Of
course, he failed. Nobody can catagorize the Keepers. Thing is, his obsession did something to
the book itself. In its presence, the Keepers were categorized, and this reduced their power
somehow. The guy disappeared, but the book is out there somewhere.

There's a secret hidden in the dreams of the comatose. Specifically those who have been
comatose for years. Anyone who finds the secret out is never seen again. Do they get their old
lives back? Or end up in Hell? No one knows. But the secret is supposed to be really powerful.
No, I've never gone looking for it. But if I found the right victim...

Songs of Earth and Power and The Serpent Mage, by Greg Baer, depict the truth of our world,
but the events of the books haven't actually happened. Yet. Greg Baer is a normal human, not a
changeling, and as far as I can tell, he doesn't know any changelings. War for the Oaks, by
Emma Bull, on the other hand, is total bull, except that Emma Bull is definitely one of us.
Weird, huh?

Somewhere, there is a cup. If you drink it, all your memories of your time with your Keeper will
be erased. If I can find that cup, maybe I can sleep at night.

Everyone's heard of the tooth fairy, right? You put a tooth under your pillow and bam. You got
fifty cents in the morning. Good deal, right? Well, I heard there was a phone down in the lower
Westside, right? If you take two quarters and leave them there, and a note with some guy's
name and phone number on it, you'll wake up in the morning with a whole mess of teeth under
your pillow. And the guy you wrote down?
Nobody will ever see him again.

I got real freaked out the first time I read Bleach after I got back. Then I started thinkin' about
it. I don't know if Tite Kubo's a changeling or anything, but that whole "hidden world separated
from ours by a dangerous borderland"? Sound familiar? As to Hollows, well, you got me there.
Maybe Tite's tryin' to send us all a message to stay the hell outta the Hedge. Kinda makes you
wonder, huh?

And speakin' of Animorphs, what the hell's up with that, anyway? Is K.A. Applegate one of us,
too? I mean, some freaky alien comes and gives these kids the power to become animals, right?
And there are tons of weird aliens among us that most people--who don't have those
"morphing" powers--can't see? I've gotta spend more time at the library, man, is what I'm sayin'.
Who knows how many authors are one of us in disguise.


The Fae aren't all powerful, even in Arcadia. They can't even control the Heart of Arcadia.
See, a long time ago a group of really powerful True Fae tried to make a new world, like our one,
which only they could harvest from, and they wouldn't have to go through the Hedge, neither.
So they made massive deals with Fire, Earth, Wood, Water and Air, to build a kind of pocket
See, this place isn't quite Arcadia and isn't quite real. The Wyrd is very strong, but things are

basically shaped properly. Anyway, the Fae who did it got killed or imprisoned by the things
that they made there, and the stolen humans who were put there as a breeding colony stole
powers from Sun and Moon and the Wyrd itself to do it. Imagine their power if they can hold
off the entire forces of the Fae from inside their own realm.
If you ever end in Arcadia itself, and can't get out, try to get there. Head for the domain of the
Rakash. Get help for us, get them out of the bubble and into reality, so we can get the same
powers from the Sun and Moon.

The Vigil's Secret Frequency


That old farm outside of town has something living under it. Nobody can quite figure out what,
since everything from video cameras to human thought patterns seem to get jumbled when you
get too close. Still, the old owner's kept in a local asylum so maybe he can tell something. He
isn't there under his own name though, since someone wants to keep folks from looking for


You need to be strong - crazy strong? - then I can help you. Go to the all night diner on Fifth
and Chamberlain between midnight and four AM, when no one's there but the guy behind the
counter and ask for a Black Mary. When he brings it to you, drink it. You'll be crazy strong for
the next three days.
Two things, though. First of all, if you ever, ever go back to the diner between midnight and
four AM, you'll die. Just... trust me. Secondly, after your three days of strength - crazy, monster
strength - you'll have three blank days. You won't remember what you did, who you spoke to,
and I'm not convinced it's you who's driving the car, if you get my meaning.
Is it worth it? The Last guy to do it finally got the monster who killed his kids. Killed himself a
week later, though. So, I guess it's your call.

I wouldn't advise you to go into the sewers ever... last guy who did was seen again alright and is
still alive but has no tongue. Doesn't like to mention it either.


Stay away from Orlando, Florida, folks.

There's something living in the bowels of the parks, or really a whole lot of something. I'm
pretty sure they're bloodsuckers, but can't tell for certain. What I know is that there's an awful
lot of tourists who go missing, or show up weeks afterward with lost time and the signs of PTSD,
like they had the fright of their lives.
Worse yet, the people in charge of the parks seem to be aware of it, but go along with it.
I think some of them are slaves to monsters, but others just seem to get paid off to look the
other way.
Yeah, you might laugh, say it's Walt's reanimated corpse. Mitch said that, just before he took a

bullet in the temple from some brittle-boned leech for trying to rescue a captive we found down
in the tunnels beneath Hollywood Studios.

The old gods are still around, still listening.

Go down to Santa Monica. Get to the Pier just as the sun is setting. Before it slips under the
horizon, throw something belonging to an enemy into the water. Shout 'I dedicate this death to
Poseidon,' and they'll be dead by dawn. But there's a cost, and it's an ugly one.

Somewhere under the city of Chicago, hidden among the old tunnels, is a chamber containing
strange machines. The chamber apparently moves about on its own, connecting to one disused
tunnel or other, but never to the ones actively being used by the city.

The post office at the corner of Wallace and 63rd (in Chicago) is a supernatural dead zone. Will
workers, ghosts, and so on don't like this location. Normal folks aren't affected by it.

There is a stone arch deep in the forest covered in brambles. If you pick a thorn off of it and eat
it, you can see through illusions for the next month.

Most folks know Miami is a hotbed of fairy activity. But fewer know that West Palm Beach is
witch central. Turns out there is something of a quiet war over resources over all of southern
Florida between the two factions. Except for Boca Raton. Turns out, this town is the local
Casablanca. Neutral ground. Both factions go to great ends not to fight over things here. This
wasn't the case until 1984 when something woke up and began slaughtering anyone caught in a
skirmish. It only happens when a fight involving magic happens and it's messy. Every time.

A few days ago, a friend of mine was given the address to a place in the city centre. No
explanation, no reason to go there, nothing but an address. Curiosity got the better of us, so we
went to check it out. We realised straight away that something weird was up. From the outside,
the place doesn't make any sense. It's a tall, thin grey building, wedged between two old
redbricks. But its too thin, barely wider than the front door. At most it could fit a stairwell and
some very thin rooms. The front door is painted bright green, but looks like it's old, like
something from a church or something. What really got me was the fact that I musta walked
past this place a thousand times and never noticed it before. It totally weirded me out, so I
refused to go in. My friend went ahead without me. It's been three days and he hasn't come out.
What do I do?

Now, does anyone know what the deal is with the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge and Fort
Hamilton? Something got the military real stirred up over there and they closed the Bridge for 3
days. Tried to cover it up with "Suspected Terrorist Activity." But my sources say that's just for
public consumption. Whatever happened, watching the obits tells me that it took out 3 service


So, I've been finding reports of several UFO and USO (unidentified submerged objects)
sightings on the Gulf Coast of the US, mostly situated around Biloxi. Lights in the sky over the
gulf, dark shadows moving under the water. At least two guys have records of this stuff on video,
and one of the USO clips made it onto our network.

Here's the thing, I'm also hearing that a couple of the witnesses are winding up dead. And we're
not talking normal creepshow MiB-story dead, which would be kind of understandable, even if
it is so conspiracy-theory cliche. I mean, the guy who loaded off that tape to us walked into the
gulf fully-dressed five days ago and just... kept walking until the water was over his head.


A few weeks ago in New Orleans there was a play put on at Tulane University about a troupe of
actors who find an old book on a bridge, and release an ancient and unseen thing from inside it.
In the play, the book is found on a bridge where a shootout occurred between police and looters
in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.
Thing is, ever since that play was staged, the number of unexplained disappearances in the city
has gone up -- almost imperceptibly so, it is New Orleans after all, but definitely noticeable if
you know what you're looking for. Almost all of the victims are people who either were on or
had been on that bridge no more than 24 hours prior to their disappearance. Maybe that
playwright was on to something...


This was passed on to me by my Long Night friend, so perhaps take this with some degree of
salt. She's telling me about several small towns in Idaho that have been dealing with an
explosion of deaths involving children under one year.
A father in one town was arrested for smothering his four-month old daughter, three mothers in
another town were arrested for animal cruelty after they slaughtered all the cats in their
respective neighborhoods, but were institutionalized due to post-partum psychosis brought on
by the sudden and unexplainable deaths of their infant children. A hospital lost four children at
once, and the parents were all from the same town.
The reason my friend found out about this was that an abortion clinic had recently opened
within 3 miles of each of the respective towns. I'm not saying there's a connection, just
reporting all the details I got.


My school is one of the top research universities in my country. You can guess what that means.
Not just science, but they got some of us there, and some of the people who design artwork that
is around here? They are experimenting, figuring out ways to take Them out.
One of those art projects I mentioned? It's best seen at night, because it's neon lights, naming
the virtues and the deadly sins. One set of words goes faster, so sometimes, you get weird
combos, like hope and envy superimposed, pride next to Prudence, and so on. If you can see
them at night, when certain words are lit up, always one virtue and one vice, it's like sparking
your very soul. The very best parts of you and the very worst get stronger, so you can pull off
But the catch is that you fucking have to get to a place where you can see both words, and it's
on a building that wraps around. You can't see your virtue because it's on the other side? Well,

you are shit out of luck.


So there was this news story last spring out of New York City. Murder-suicide on the platform at
the 23rd Street subway station. Homeless guy throws himself and a cab driver in front of a
moving train off of a totally packed platform. Pretty standard sordid tale of life in the naked
city, right?
Problem is, this platform was packed solid with people at 2:30 am on a Sunday morning.
It gets weirder: outside the station there was some kind of massive pile-up on 23rd Street -unrelated to the event on the subway, NYPD said. It wasn't really an accident, though. At least
20 cars at a standstill, abandoned, on a New York City street. The people packing the platform
down in the subway station? Yup, all the people who abandoned their cars. Nobody would cop
to seeing the murder-suicide happening when the police arrived; they just remembered the train
arriving and two dead bodies on the tracks.
Why did they abandon their cars? My contact in the Union, who works at the police tow yard,
told me every one of the vehicles they towed away that night was shot through with rust to the
point of falling apart.
How do I know about all this? I got a tape. You probably know this series of events by another
name... "spont_decap.avi"? You know, the grainy video of two guys standing near some
turnstiles, and all of a sudden one of their heads just sort of... pops off? And then there's that
stampede of people running for their lives, and the second guy just standing there... same thing
happens. Pop. I have it on good authority this is the REAL story of what happened back in May
last year in New York.


I wasn't there when it happened. I was the EMT who got to clean up the mess. I've seen a lot,
working five years on the NYC EMT squads on and off, but this thing... Let's just say that those
heads didn't come off clean. They weren't sliced... so much as yanked. I don't want to think
about how much force it would've taken to pull a human head off of a human neck, but it's not
I was the lucky guy who got to pick up the heads. The damn thing was heavy as a motherfucker,
like more than twice the weight of a normal human head, so I made sure to get the forensics
guys to run some tests on them.
It's not like he could strip the skin off, so he ran an MRI, CAT scan, and X-rayed the thing.
Here's how it came back. The brown is the muscle, skin, ligaments, tendons, etc. The black and
white? That's solid quartz crystal. And you know the best part? As far as my friend can tell, the
skull is hollow. The body was on ice, and brains don't rot away that fast. So when this guy died,
his skull was totally empty.
The last thing I heard from my forensics contact, he said he was going to sample some of that
quartz crystal, run purity tests - he was a chemistry geek in college. Then he stopped coming
into work. They called and called, then fired him, then expected him to come in for his last

paycheck. He didn't. They mailed it. I stopped into his place a week later - I should've been
faster, I should have suspected - and when I got there, the door was unlocked, and he was laying
in his bathtub, wrists slit. No note, no nothing.
I didn't call the cops, I just ran. They were on to me, I knew it. If they could trace this report
back to him, they could trace it to me. I went back to his office for the files, but they were
already packed up and gone. The mail guy said they were mailed back to his house, but I didn't
see reams of files in the apartment when I was there. I think they, whoever the hell they is, got
to him and his files.
The body... the body's gone too. So's the skull. I've got nothing, nothing to work from, no leads
to follow.
Guys... I don't know what to do. Risking my own life was one thing, but now I'm getting my
friends killed. My forensics contact wasn't a suicidal guy. He didn't off himself, someone else
offed him. Someone who didn't want what he knew getting out.

Did you know that over half of all crimes the cops label as "ritual" or "cult-like" killing in the
state of Wyoming happen within a 75 mile radius of Grand Teton National Park? At first I
thought they were centered around nearby Yellowstone because of a rather strong clustering
north of the park, but the more I looked, the more I realized it's actually the Grand T that is at
the center of the killings. Most of the killings are climbers and cavers, though some campers or
just folks traveling through have been taken as well.


I'm in Kentucky; all my life I've lived here, and there's been something. I think the Earth itself
here is angry. I swear, we were down in the ground, following a lead... and there was this city. It
asked us about diamonds, and paths... and then it sicced these bigfoot-things on us. But they
had four arms, four legs, and HUGE mouths. They killed and... and... god, I don't want to think
about it... the rest of my cell. I got away because I ran, like a scared little bitch.
But I don't think it's done. I keep having dreams about the city, about the throne we saw,
mounted on the front of it, and a huge iron tower behind it. Like something's there, calling me
back... down into hell.


Video Report: Sighting, Mount Washington.

00:00-00:15: Noctilucent cloud
00:15-:00-23: Item believed by viewer to be a noctilucent cloud splits into three concentric
00:24-00:41: Rings break from each other and fly in formation.
00:42-1:03: Ring Segments A and C vanish, Ring Segment B hits mountain.
1:04-1:25: Ring Segment B passes through mountain, strikes forest below, causing conflagration.
1:26-2:01: Sound referred to as "unearthly wail" emanates from crash site. Recorder drops
camera. Blood or simulacrum can be seen dripping down lens. Recorder runs away from camera,
clasping ears and limping on bleeding left leg.
2:02-2:14: Local flora pushed forward by wind not there seconds earlier. Thumping footsteps
can be heard from behind the camera.

2:15-2:21: Unknown cryptids pursue wounded recorder.

2:22: Camera is crushed underfoot.


Okay, some interesting stuff going on in Alalakeiki Channel, between the Kahoolawe and Maui
islands in Hawaii. You might remember me talking about sharks that take the form of men
swimming around the islands there, and I think this might be connected.
If you follow the link I provide, you're going to see what looks like a USO, maybe about 19 feet
long, and I'm not really in a position to estimate weight. That's a tiger shark. As far as I know,
tigers do not get that large, but when it moves to the surface about 2:27m into the video, the
markings are pretty obvious.
No, it's not the normal freakshow N0 fare, but this is incredibly dangerous all the same. Be
extremely careful if you're investigating this.

Heads up to anyone in the Jersey shore area, some "special ops" units out of Fort Dicks are on
"training" along the shore line. My sources tell me the military hospital there has some combat
casualties in quarantine already.
I'm thinking it's "sea serpents" again. You know, the kind that lay eggs with their bite.

The Jersey Devil isn't so much a singular or even a breed of creatures, but a psychic
manifestation of the land. All the anguish, pollution, degradation and crime that go on in Jersey
well up and feed this manifestation. Of course, it takes a lot of energy to cause it to manifest so
it isn't always active. And worse: its appearance changes often. Those unexplained murders, all
those unsolved disappearances? Yeah...


If you're ever in Paris, and you get invited to a restaurant called Gevaudan, you're going to want
to decline. The head chef of the resturant belongs to Ashwood, and he prepares... specialty
meals, consisting of the parts of monsters, particularly werewolves. They're very popular, I'm
told, it's just... gruesome to think about for long.


You know the monsters won Mexico, right? There are still hunters there, but they really have to
stay low. Only those wack-job Church guys can still operate with impunity there, because of all
the Catholics.
But that ain't the worst thing. I'm in favor of the fence, because I know what keeps sneaking
across the border. I've seen them. Me and some buddies go down to Texas once a year and try
and keep 'em back. Those coyotes aren't just smuggling drugs and people. Sometimes, things
hide in the merchandise.

There's no Vigil left in Sri Lanka. Some earthbound thing has been turning the soil against
anyone that could attack it. It's big, nasty, and the only people who knew for sure what it is, are

By contrast, there's no more reason to hold the Vigil in Singapore. Entire city... state....
country... whatever it is, was swept clean of the Enemy. Not one nook, not one cranny is left.
I don't know how they pulled it off either, I just know there hasn't been a single example of a
monster reported there since 1965.

Oh please. Don't tell me you buy that? I keep getting reports of 'imported' critters. The way I
hear it Singapore is the Enemy's version of Vegas. Nothing really stays there, but everything
loves to go there for some fun in the sun/moon so to speak. What bothers me, who's managing
the area? Is the government involved?


Never, ever, under any circumstance wander into the Wola district of Warsaw. The spectres of
the Warsaw and Ghetto Uprisings, the dead burned alive by the Germans, the hundreds
murdered on it's streets and under it's walls.
In fact, just avoid Warsaw at all cost. This city was once beautiful, the Paris of Eastern Europe...
Now it's a shambling, rotting undead carcass with a large hole where it's heart used to be. It is
sometimes called the City of the Phoenix, but we all can see that there was no resurrection. All
that remains are the ashes.
It's just too much. No candle prevails. There is only darkness.

Man, there is some weird, weird stuff happening in England now.

Got something in London - two things, actually. Done some digging, turns out Boris Johnson,
new Mayor, is related to every aristocratic family in Europe. Every goddamned one of them,
Then we got what's happening with the Birds. The ravens in London have been targetted wih
some murders. They're not releasing much info, but it seems there's only two left, and I don't
need to tell you the legend of what happens if they're all dead.


There's a small patch of land along I-65, between Indianapolis and Gary, that's dead. I mean,
there's miles and miles of fertile crops, then bam, about a football field sized scar of blackened
swampland. The road runs right though the thing. The "dead zone" only extends out a few
hundred feet from the road. After that it's all green farms again.
High school kids are found dead there about once every five years. Some deaths are ruled
suicides, others "unsolved" murders. Some bodies aren't from local schools and they're never
identified. No visitations are held for those who died. It's a swift burial and move on.
I did some checking and there has never been a moving violation or broken down car along
that stretch of road. Also, no newspaper has ever published a story about the recurring deaths in
that patch of land.


I've been doing some cross-referencing, taking different rumors, seeing how often they occur
and where they might relate. A friend of mine's an otaku, it's useful because he can read
Japanese. He said that before WWII there weren't any of these things. Then the Japanese

started to realize they were losing, and things got weird.

The government used to keep a lot of tabs on the supernatural, you know, to keep them in
check. The problem was that things started showing up that weren't on the books. At first it
was just a few more youkai than originally expected, but then it was brand new species. Now I
hear it's not even limited to traditional myth, anything that captures the people imagination
comes to life in its own twisted form. The place was hell after the Ring premiered.
Every decade or so a city just goes missing. The Japanese government is pretty good at covering
it up, especially since its citizens are uber-patriotic. Like 1950s Roswell patriotic.
From what I'm hearing, Tokyo's the new final walk of death for hunters, where one goes to go
out in a blaze of glory.


Something is happening under Paris. I have a contact in the Inspection generale des carrieres,
the guys who manage the catacombs (among other things). Here is what he told me:
"Someone is playing a strange, elaborate prank here. Dunno if you're familiar with the
catacombs, but in the public areas, you've got walls of bones, pillars of skulls, neatly arranged to
form beautiful, if depressing, decorative motifs. In at least two places, someone is rearranging
the skulls. Not removing them - stealing a skull is an old and stupid rite of passage for some
student groups. Just replacing this skull with the missing teeth by that one with the chipped
brow, or that one by another which was two rows below it. It's wholly invisible for outsiders,
just damn unnerving. Where does that happens? Near the Samaritaine fountain, and near the
tomb of the cursed poet. And it has been going for weeks."
Additional info:
The Samaritaine fountain is not really a fountain, just a well going straight to the water table.
The waters are so clear they're almost invisible. They're also damn cold. And deep. Back in the
early 19th century, the fountain was called "the spring of Lethe", but of course, people of that
time loved Greek mythology.
The tomb of the cursed poet is not a tomb at all, just a big block of stone. It is a memorial to
some minor 18th century poet, with some verses from this guy on it.
All of this is happening in the "public" part of the catacombs, accessible to tourists during the
day. It's closed during the night. It is possible to break in if you know where to go, but it's damn
difficult - if you want to play with bones, it's easier to go to the big ossuaries which are not open
to the public.

There's a ruined church, in a rural area near me, from Norman times. It's small, no bigger than
two rooms in the average house nowadays. But when you stay out there, at either Equinox, fog
rolls in, no matter what the weather. The fog rolls in, thick as soup and you can't see a meter in
front of your face. So if you stand next to a wall in the church, with the fog all round you and
try and walk in a straight line to the other wall? You never get there. You never get anywhere.
You just walk and walk and walk. If you turn around to go back to the wall you came from, you

can get there, but that's all there is. Soon as it gets past 1 in the morning, for some reason, the
fog rolls away, and you're still in this tiny church.


When I read this, I felt a chill down my spine. About half a year ago, I had some trouble with
one of those doomsday cults in Japan, kind of like the Aum, but stranger. They seemed to think
that the existence of the entire world depends on keeping this one individual... entertained.
And the moment she lost interest, the world would cease to exist and a new one would take the
place of the old.
It was a weird time, I met myself coming the other way down Shinjuku, one of my contacts
exploded in what I can only describe as a storm of pure information and I met a group of
witches who were determined to exterminate "the other" in what they termed "non-euclidian
She who must be entertained is apparently still out there, I was only able to get some initials,
does S.H. mean anything to anyone?

There's a cannibal cult in Guam. They don't target tourists, because the cult's decided the only
way they, as native islanders, can survive is to become an invasive species themselves. They
handle brown tree snakes, consume the toxins let off by the cane toads that invaded the
country, and well... eat other Chamarro natives.
I'm even hearing that they're getting into the local politics there, and that one of the previous
governor-hopefuls of the country was heavily involved in the cult.

So, want to hear something really unnerving? There was an outbreak of people being buried
alive in Andorra this spring. Five people who'd all been recently interred were discovered by
the mortuary worker, screaming and kicking from inside a mausoleum. Three reported having
been sent back because 'Hell was filled and they wouldn't let us in'. Another was reported DOA
(again) when they rushed them to the hospital. No word on what happened to the fifth.
Yeah, I'm not looking forward to investigating it either.

Cell Seven in Japan reports further sightings. They don't know what it is. It looks like a
cathedral, but it has the head, legs and wings of a dragon. It eats whatever is left after one of the
others is blitzed. Its arrival is always heralded by the appearance of a blood red moon and a loud
Creature seen in conflict with local kaijuu. Smaller creature, similar to windmill on its back.
Destroyed kaijuu with breath weapon.


Okay, one of my associates got me something really interesting.... well, maybe it'll be more
interesting to my cryptid webfriends, but I figured I'd give the Network first crack at it. A friend
sent me a tape taken in 2007, in some national park in southern Victoria that shows at least
three animals I identified as thylacines preparing to swim across a river (unsure as to the details
of the geography, I'm afraid). The third thylacine into the water struggles, a crocodile moves in
and ends up dragging it under.

It's very Mutual of Omaha, and I'm not sure whether I believe this is an actual video, or if my
friend is running a remarkable late-Fool's Day joke on me. Anyone who cares to look at it and
pick it apart, feel free.


Are there any Brisbane hunters on? I'm really scared about this one.
I was walking around, trying to forget about the vampire we were chasing a couple of weeks
back (he got away, but he got away into Chinatown. That's Ashwood Abbey territory. Not my
problem anymore). Then I looked at this tree, and I swear, I saw some goddamned eyes looking
back at me. In one of those shadowy bits, see? I came right up to the tree, couldn't find the eyes,
but something about all of those roots hanging down...I was feeling pretty ballsy, and I stuck my
whole arm into one of those shadowy bits. That's my whole arm, and I still couldn't feel the tree
So whenever I've had spare time, I've gone back with a bottle of V and a Sub and I've been
sketching the tree. The alternative is sit there like a freak and stare at it, I don't want to attract
attention. Sometimes, out of the corner of my eye, I see orangey eyes staring out at me. But it's
like, every time I try to look at it, they disappear. Maybe there's some kind of trick? I mean, I
generally see the eyes around midday, like when the sun is right above me and - look, never
It eats things. I'm sure of it. A bird will land on the tree, I'll blink or something, and then the
bird's gone. I threw a screwed-up ball of paper at it, and within a few minutes, it was gone. I was
sitting there, and there were these kids playing near the tree, and then I lay down my sketch
book to go over and tell them to get away, and when I turned back they were fucking gone. I
stayed away for a few days after that.
I think something happens there at night. I went back there once in the early morning, and I
found these...trinkets near the tree. There was this rock with a hole in it. I took it home with
me, but an hour later I felt really bad and dropped it off near a tree. I got so wasted after that, I
was so scared.

Do not go to Bristol. The vampires there are planning something. If I was younger I would do
something about it, now, I am far too old. A lifetime of dallying with this nonsense has taught
me that sometimes just letting other people die is the best way to get through life, although I
appreciate that some of you may not be prepared to believe me on this point. Still, I will repeat
my point. The vampires in Bristol are more organised than they should be, appear to have
sorted out their factional differences and are working in a co-ordinated whole.


There's a group of hunters out there. They call themselves Siete. Which fits, because best I can
understand, they have seven members. They seem to have a real HATE on for the blood
drinkers. They'll show up with no notice in a custom built RV, and then two weeks later, any
bloodsucker who's the slightest bit incautious will end up dead.

But the thing is.. since they do what they need to, and then move on.. they have no fear of
collateral damage.. so they'll go to any length to take down their targets. That "fire" in the
basement of the Hanshu Tower in Milwaukee? That was them, or accurately, them and their
good friend Mr. Molotov. I saw them drive off myself..
So if you see a RV, with the tags VII VII.. stay on the down low, because shit is about to happen.

One of the other cells I know has started sending his footage out in discs that he returns to
Netflix. He prefers older DVDs that they don't check as often. He's a fan of Mickey Rooney and
Jimmy Cagney, so don't be surprised if you rent Little Caesar and get a room full of blurry
people talking about how victorious they are.


Here's one for you guys to puzzle over.

Last year I met a cell - four people, three girls and a guy.
This was in Canada--east coast, Province of New Brunswick - but they said they were from
California. Some small town there.
There was Michelle- short blonde, looked like a cheerleader.
Alison- cute redhead, taller than Michelle, smiled a lot.
Amber- stocky blonde, never seemed to talk unless she had to.
The guy, Nicholas, big rangy dude who treated Alison like she was made of porcelain (except
during combat).
They refused to use firearms. Fought with swords or staffs.
Nicholas liked axes though.
Thing is, they were incredibly lucky - so lucky it has to be some kind of power. I saw them take
on twice their own number in vampires, and they won with no casualties.
It was like they had script immunity - they could get hurt but it was foreordained they'd win.
The kicker?
Check out that old American TV show -Buffy the Vampire Slayer - ran 1997 till 2003.
Check the photos of Buffy, Willow. Tara, Xander.
Then look at the names of the actors.


Be careful of some of the freakazoids out in Eugene, OR. Some of them were crazy well before
they started hunting, and confronting abominations of nature didn't make them any more
normal. Example: I met a guy out there once, primitivist (that's an extreme "back to nature"
type for all you non-fringe-lefties), who thought that rape was a-ok because it was "actualizing
your will against oppression."
Yeah, last I heard, he made an exception to primitivism, bought a few guns, outfitted his group
(he's a trust fund baby, go fucking figure) and now they're popping off lycanthropes in the
Oregon old growth forests. How they're not dead yet with their idiotic, scattershot tactics has
yet to be seen. They may be in league with the enemies of their enemies, if you know what I'm
saying. Might be worth scoping out. I'd do it, but uh... after that rape comment... we had a bit of
an altercation - let's just say they'll remember me for a loooong time.



Heard of the Army of Truth? They're the militant branch of Network 0, armed and dedicated to
ripping open the eyes of every person in the world to the monsters around them. Most people in
the know think the Network's a joke, fat Internet geeks and college students with camera
phones. Nobody makes that joke about the Army, especially after their latest stunt.
This cell of theirs's been going up and down the West Coast, pirating TV broadcasts and
executing vampires during morning talk shows and prime-time TV premieres. Five times in the
past year. The way they're dressed, people think they're either Al-Qaeda or left-wing radicals.
Thing is, VALKYRIE and VASCU's been after them for months. Then last Thursday, an
operative we know works for ADAMSKI was reported missing, and twelve hours later, the
Army executed him on-air for collaboration with the monster-occupied government.
VALKYRIE's not screwing around any more.

There's a fraternity in the college Greek system that's been infiltrated by Ashwood Abbey
members for generations. They mix frat Hell Weeks with their hunts. Pledges get stuck with
leading the chases.
The alumni of this fraternity are spread in high-ranking positions in business and government.
And they still enjoy the hunts the frats run.


In my research, I found many references to a group known alternately as the Crossroads Society
or the Lodge of the Crossroads. It seems to be a group of people who go around studying North
American folklore and find out the truth behind it. I started looking for them thinking they
were... one of us. They might be, who knows?
I managed to meet one. He was a small and skinny guy, looked like he could get cut in two just
by a strong wind, and yet... He had this, I dunno, aura around him. Like if he got angry, he
would break you. Scared me a bit. He was friendly enough, though. We sat down all night at a
local McDonalds and traded info and spoke about things in the night. He was pretty closemouthed about his group, but I managed to get a few interesting tidbits. Apparently, their
founder saw Robert Johnson meet the Devil at the crossroads. I was tempted to call bullshit, but
I've seen enough weird shit out there, so what do I know. They're loosely organised, with few
meetings, and share info as they can. They try to stay under the radar. He also mentioned a
'patron', but I didn't get to know, or what it was.
At the end, we traded contact info, to share info and stuff. I think I will do it, even if the guy
kind of creeps me out. Anyone else got info on these guys?

I recently found a bunch of very old documents from a private collection attesting the existence
of a strange secret society in the Caribbean during the golden age of piracy. It seems that some
of these pirates, having had traumatizing encounters with the supernatural, banded together to

fight against it. They also apparently hired their monster-hunting services to other pirates (and
basically anyone who would pay). The records are very fragmentary though, so I don't know
much else. I'm thinking of going there to see if I can't find more info on those guys, and see
what happened to them.


So, I did some digging into the Frequency's origin tapes. You know, the three that are at the top
of the "most popular of all time" rankings. I took a look at the audio on all three, and I found a
pretty weird thing hidden behind well, the shock of looking at those tapes. Each video has a
piece of electronic voice phenomena in it. Weirder, each piece of EVP is the same audio.
So, okay, already pretty weird. I mean, nobody ever found out who made the damn things, this
could just be some practical joke that touched too close to the real reality we've been finding.
But this was just the start of it. I took a random cross-section of the videos people have put up
on various websites regarding this stuff, and again, this audio pops up again in slightly over half
the tapes, from several different users and directors.
I then asked a few people I could trust to look into it also, see what they could find. My
deceased friend in Kobe reported he heard the same thing, and this was the strangest part... he
heard it in Japanese. So we've got an EVP that's altering to the listener's native ear, but as the
same words.
I'm starting to think we're not the only ones using this frequency, if you catch what I mean.

For those who have only been active in the last year, Iago2421 claimed to be descended from a
cursed line of living immortals. He'd talk about visits with his great great great grand father or
some shit like that. Really he's just a 14 year old who stumbled on to the site.

Hey, everyone out in Western Australia, steer clear of most of Perth if you're Null Mysteris or
whatever the hell you guys call yourselves.
Apparently, there's been a few fuck-ups, diplomancy wise, between them and, like, three other
Seriously, you will get gutted.


There's a conspiracy out there that scares the shit out of the Witchy Hammer. And if you know
those guys, that should scare you too.


Hello, my brother. I see... you've heard the stories, too. That we can be saved. That we can
leave the Lucifuge. Don't pay them any mind. It isn't that they are false. There is a cave in
Croatia, and there is an old man in it with a knife and a bowl and a pair of bone dice, and he
can do what the stories say he can do. But even if you survive the Aegis Doru Kai agents who

protect him, and speak to him, you'll discover presently that you no longer want what he offers.
There is only so much infernal blood in the world, but there is also always so little. For one of us
to leave the fold, another must enter it. When one of us leaves by death, another is born, and
when one of us has the blood of Satan unnaturally torn from our veins, it must find a place in
the veins of another. Could you live with that on your soul?
I didn't think so. Goodnight, my brother.


Those weird relic-hunters with the hate-on for warlocks? I heard a story about them, some real
pre-history shit.
Apparently they were the ones responsible for the Tower of Babel collapsing. I mean, I'm
guessing they mean something like "the event the Tower of Babel was based on", but fuck if
they don't believe it really happened. Some Babylonian wizard tried unseating the gods, the
relic-hunters managed to destroy it, and the world was blasted by some devil's fallout that led to
everyone speaking gibberish.
I hear the reason the go after the relics is because each one contains a part of the tower. If they
can get to them all before the things in the dark do, they can rebuild the tower the right way
and get back to the way things were.


So, the Lucifuge are the children of Satan. Weird, but not totally out of the question from what
things come boiling out of the dark. But apparently they're not the only things straight out of
Christian apocrypha.
I met a man that said his father was an angel, the real "one wing dripped in blood"-type shit. He
said there were many people out there like him, a group called "The Malakh". I thought the
word was all wrong for what they were claiming to be, but he certainly acted as if God spoke
with him. Then again, that's not always a blessing.

Stop freakin mentioning the C-guys. They're like freakin Candlejack I swear. I was on another
board, maybe some of you were there, remember when it went down? I called the webhost and
found that they had been bought out and shut down. And guess who was listed as buying? One
of their subsidiaries. Let's not have that happen again, huh?


Incidentally, I've heard a few more stirrings from over in Japan. I have a program watching the
new feeds, and a few hours ago there was a report about a mutilated body being fished out of a
river somewhere. Blue skin, big horns, looked nasty. Thing is, they were able to lift fingerprints
from the body, and apparently they were a match with a Japanese salaryman who disappeared a
couple of weeks ago. Since I had the name, I figured I'd do a little digging. Guess what
multinational-conglomerate-that-starts-with-a-C owns the company the salaryman worked for?
No, I can't link the news story, or any others on the subject, either. I went looking, and found

zip. Nada. Even the original story's been pulled, now. Looks like someone over there doesn't
want word getting out that someone's killing oni and dumping them in the river.


Did I log onto some Long Night forum by mistake? I thought the point of Network 0 was to
investigate and expose the supernatural, not kill everything we don't understand. Just because
an individual has some form of paranormal power does not automatically make them evil or an
Case in point, three years ago or so I met this girl named Amy at the library while researching
this haunted house I was looking into. Turned out she was looking into the house too. We hit it
off and decided to pull our resources together to collaborate on the case. Things went well (if
you want the details and the video check out this thread) and we started working together
regularly. One thing led to another and our relationship become much more than collaboration.
A little while after things had gotten serious she confessed her deep secret to me. Turned out
my Amy was a witch, part of a group devoted into knowledge for its own sake. She then proved
it by turning my spoon to gold momentarily. Needless to say I was shocked and angy that she
kept something so important from me. We fought, broke up temporarily, and eventually we
decided to give things another go. As a gesture of reconcilliation for not telling me what she
was sooner she decided to let me tape her while she demonstrated some of her spells and post it
We never got the chance. We were attacked in the middle of the shoot. I don't know who they
were. Maybe they were one of those fanatical fundie compacts that didn't suffer a witch to live.
Or maybe they were the type that got their kicks seeing how many different types of "enemies"
they could kill. It doesn't matter. The only thing important is that they killed her for no good
reason at all. She never cursed anyone, or made blood sacrifices. All she did was use her magic
to investigate and learn, the same type of goals we have. She didn't deserve that.
She died saving me. Opened up a portal to the other side, where ghosts dwell, and shoved me
through. She followed after me, but they managed to wound her at least three times before she
could close the thing. After we got away from there and crossed back to the living world I tried
to get her to a hospital but it was too late, her wounds too serious. She died in my arms.
So if you want to know who are enemy is look around. It's anyone who'd harm another whether
innocent or guilty. Our enemy is the one who puts stalking and killing above learning and
understanding. They could be among the supernaturals. Or they could be one of us. Malice and
ignorance, those are the enemy.
As for the group who attacked me, I never learned who they were. All I know is that they knew
what they were experienced and effective. Their tactics were well practiced and they wielded
weapons which specifically countered her spells. Some sort of blessed, or maybe enchanted,
relics. They screamed "betrayer" at her as they attacked.
Anyone got a clue to who those guys might be? Because I've got unfinished business with them.

You seem not to be familiar with the sinister Wiccan conspiracy. You don't want to know the

details, but it's safe to say that the best thing to do is play the Wiccans and vampires off against
each other.


One could easily think they also conduct the Vigil, with the candle and the martyrdombarbwire symbol. That they pull innocent people out of prisons, where they are kept at the
behest of various monsters, well embedded in our society, law enforcement and
judiciary/penitentiary system. It's all shiny and rosy, only there's a darker side to this coin too.
The very same organization, or maybe just some of its rogue cells, are rumored to be actually
pulling monsters out of the prisons, where they thought themselves lucky and safe. They do not
reveal their presence, they do not attack them outright. They just help them out and then carry
them somewhere away. Some say they conduct experiments, but that's just so old-fashioned.
Others claim that the folks have lost it completely and the monster or monster's slave that gets
out of prison and into their hands is in for one hell of a "fun ride". Torture, brainwashing,
deprogramming, brainwashing again, drugs in excess, sensory deprivation, the whole catalog.
Yet another rumor says that they do in fact pull out innocent people out of prison, those whose
innocence they are sure of... only to carry them away from their homes and families, to the
monsters themselves, as a kind of a delightful meal or a funny toy.
I don't trust them. Not one of them.


Every graduate from the Air Force Academy gets a sword. Ever wonder why?

I heard that VALKYRIE's superiors are... not quite human. Apparently their last director was
seen in a conference room in D.C., speaking to faceless shadow people sitting like some kind of
inquiry. A couple days later, he was found wrapped around a freeway embankment, and the
coroner said his brain looked like it had rotted from the inside out.


I've heard the rumor about ghost radio on the Baltic, too, but I don't have any evidence about
it. Something weird is going on in the sea, though... there have been several attempts by private
groups to raise some interesting wrecks, but the local governments - Finnish, Swedish, Estonian,
and even the Russians - always block it with a torrent of lawsuits, "impact studies",
"conservation projects" and so on. It's as if they don't want anything brought back from the sea
bottom, for any reason.


During Labor Day weekend there were a lot of reports of medical waste on the South Jersey
shores from Wildwood to Ocean City, mainly hypodermic needles. Local authorities closed
many of the beaches for a period of time in order to sweep for the waste. One of my associates
believes that military assets deliberately released said material in order to control access and coopt local authorities without necessarily revealing the presence of anything unseemly. (Local
authorities would close the beaches looking for medical waste, and if they hit something else,
the military was covertly positioned to swoop in and clean up.) If that's true, look for the
military to start using more wag the dog style "disasters" to provide them with operational
coverage. It gives them the benefit of having local eyes and ears on the ground without
necessarily needing to inform said eyes and ears of what's going on. (This has traditionally been
the biggest source of leaks for these sorts of things, local authorities who can't or won't shup up
when Uncle Sam tells them to.)



Ever wonder where the Cheiron Group got the inspiration for the medical surgery on their
operatives? Well, I found some records that shows Cheiron was... how we say, complicit in Axisrun experiments.
I couldn't find anything on the Europe theatre though, most of the records were either highly
classified or just... gone from where they should've been. But I found some stuff on
collaborations between Imperial Japan's dirty little biological experiments on the Chinese and
Cheiron observers. From what I can figure, the first bit of thaumatechnology came out of those
experiments, Japanese scientists implanting shit into their bodies from Chinese supernaturals.
Cheiron's been profiting off this stuff for decades now, and the Chinese and Japanese
governments know about it.


The Russian Bolsheviks knew about the monsters hiding in Tsarist Russia. They knew they'd
have to combat these supernatural forces if they hoped to take the country themselves, so they
organized a force of loyal communists to take care of the problem. The group was loyal only to

Lenin and the Bolshevik revolution though, and when Lenin died and Stalin took power, he
discovered their existence.
Those members he found didn't even get the spectacle of show trials, he just had them
executed. Why? Because Stalin had collaborated with what monsters still survived in Russia to
eliminate Lenin, and was terrified the Bolsheviks would discover him.

Task Force: VALKYRIE tells a story about Abraham Lincoln and his assassination as their
origin. They do this because before the Civil War, another government conspiracy existed, born
from the beginning of the American Revolution. It was headed by one of the Founding Fathers
(no, not Franklin, everyone thinks Franklin). The agency fragmented during the Civil War,
and only the Union members went on to continue as VALKYRIE.
No one is telling what happened to the Confederate members.

The Order of the Dragon still exists. It was a knightly order created by the Holy Roman
Emperor to defend his country against the approaching Muslims, and only the most powerful of
the age could become members. Even today, European nobility and politicians still join the
order and use its influence to gain more power for themselves.
I heard it was originally a group of hunters, but that it's long become a cancer cell. One of their
most well-known member was Vlad Dracula!

Iraq is a free-for-all as far as hunters go. Saddam was working with the monsters to keep the
populace down, as a controllable food source. I've heard a bunch of stuff, not a lot of it
verifiable, that some of the insurgent militias there are hunting, and don't give a shit who gets
caught in the crossfire. And the Americans over there are getting caught up in it too.


Have you ever gotten that message about virtual memory being too low? I swear to God, if you
open up Wordpad (not Word) 13 times, ghosts will start typing to you. I think they are ghosts.
Just Don't. Touch. The. Screen.

Do you know how all the mattresses have a do not remove under penalty of law tag? That's
because mattresses are where the slumbering spirits of the restless dead are put. Having someone
sleep on a mattress, or even just lay in it, allows the spirit to be sedated. Since the mattress itself
could not be the focus, the tag is the focus. Removing it allows the spirit to roam free again.


You know what I mean? URLs to nowhere, IRC channels that shut down ages ago. I found a
telnet to a college server brought offline in a fire, and started getting e-mails from dead little
girls. Last week I got the password to a site that's only there on full moons. And from time to
time I swear, I keep running into old hacker friends of mine long dead.
I call it the phantom web, the realm of cybernetic shadows and supernatural digital dreams. If
RL has a hidden world I guess, why doesn't the virtual world? If you're really nice to me I'll give
you the phone number of a old dialup where everyone thinks it 1992 and 24K is all the rage.

Just don't be rude. You think monsters are scary, just imagine what having a haunted computer
is like.


Has anyone ran into the Deathtalkers? That's what my crew called some of those freaky folks
that they saw trying to quell a bunch of pissed off spirits in Boston the other day. We managed
to talk with one of them briefly.. I swear there was something.. something else behind their
eyes. Like a spirit-rider.. but it was just a rider, it wasn't a string-puller like some of the other
ones I've seen.
We started calling them the Deathtalkers when we asked how they were able to do what they
do... one of em quipped "You gotta die, then come back.".. You shoulda seen the glares from the
other Deathtalkers.


Vampires don't drink your blood. Or rather, they drink your blood to disguise what they're
really doing.

Ok, punk, you listen and you listen good, because I'm only gonna explain this once. Barry
Atkins is off limits. Yeah, I know he's a bloodsucker, but he don't hurt nobody; nobody human,
anyway. Yeah, sometimes what you hear is true. Barry Atkins used to be one of us. His brother is
in my wife's Bible group. So, you leave him alone, ok. He ain't one of us anymore, but he's on
our side.
What happened to him can happen to you. So count your blessings and screw off.

Why do you think Vlad Dracula's a national hero in Romania? Vampirism was just one layer of
his powers.
He decided they were a threat to his people and his power, so he went inside to wipe them out.
Most of the Eastern European mansquitos are his minions, deep in the blood.

Oh shit. I'm in trouble. BIG trouble. I - I mean, we - stole a book from vampires. I think it's
some kind of holy book, or something. I'm the last one still alive from my cell, and I probably
won't make it to the end of the week. This is big. Vampires are organized, much more organized
than I ever suspected. I managed to scan to book, and I'm uploading as a .pdf right away.

There's an epidemic of HIV-infection going around the Pacific Northwest. Some cult leader
thinks that the infection is blessed, and that to save people, he and his followers have to spread
it as much as possible. They target lonely people in bars, offer a one-night stand, and then, just
to ensure an infection, they jab a syringe with the cult leader's blood in it while the poor
sucker's asleep.
I'm getting some reports that the cult leader's a vampire, but what the hell would a blooddrinking parasite want with already-infected blood?

I'm pretty sure the Finnish Red Cross has been compromised by the vampires. I've researched
things, using public data about serious accidents, surgery queues and such, and comparing that

with the ads asking for donors. They're going through blood almost fifteen percent faster than
in other European countries, all things considered. If any math-minded hunters are interested,
I'll be happy to share my research.

You hear about what's going on out in MaCadoo?

I got a friend in TCG says it's an experiment by the bloodsuckers. They were trying to make
people make more blood, then suck it out before anyone could get symptoms. Things got out of
hand, I'm guessing.


Holy crap.

The things you find when you start checking random URLs from a stranger's laptop.
Four weeks ago I woulda laughed and moved on to the porn. Things were different for me back
then. Now? Now this just feels real.
Call me Frank. I'm a vampire. And I just don't care anymore.
It isn't like I thought it would be.
I'm in pretty big trouble already. Gotta risk leaving town tonight, so I figure I'll write this. Right
now I fucking hate vampires and I just don't care. So I'll spill what little beans I know. Might
help some of you guys.
If you don't believe me, that's fine. I'm out the door in thirty regardless.
You got my attention for half an hour. So, anyone got questions?


The rest of you -- do not take this guy at face value. I've seen posts like his before. Different
names. Different IPs. Even different writing styles. No way to prove it's the same guy. Maybe it
isn't -- maybe it's all part of a wider scheme among the bloodsuckers, brainsuckers, whatever
they might be. They come on forums like this one claiming to be vampires. Disillusioned
newbies, runaways, never more than a year or two dead at most. They post about their 'powers'.
The 'nature' of their 'kind'. Sometimes they take questions.
And then some of us head out to do our own interview with a vampire, sans Tom Cruise. Or we
pass the info on to people hunting mosquitoes in their own backyard. And it backfires.
Horribly. The powers aren't what we were told. The vulnerabilities are different. Things just
aren't quite what we were told. At best, the hunters become the hunted, and escape with a few
more battle scars. At worst... maybe we find a battered cassette or memory card later.
This is a campaign of disinformation. Maybe we don't see this as war. The vamps do, though,
and they will use every damn dirty trick in the book. Don't trust it unless you've got it on tape.
Don't act without proof. And don't trust something that's very, very interested in keeping

people from finding out that it even exists. Ever.

The part about crosses is true, though. They don't work. You're much better off using amethyst
blessed by your local Wiccan.


It sounds like you might have a strigoi. A strigoi is a sort of vampire that can turn into an
animal and suck the life out of people. In this case, maybe it changed into a cat, and that's why
the women killed the cats (there is the old wives' tale about cats stealing the breath of children,
but I don't give that one any credit). It could be either a human or one of the undead.
If it's undead, the old gypsy remedy is to dig up the body, cut out its heart, pound a (presumably
iron) nail into the forehead, and rebury the body face down in the coffin.
If it's the live kind, the old gypsy remedy would probably take care of that, too. Honestly, it'll
probably kill most things.


Sometimes weird pale motherfuckers are just weird pale motherfuckers.

What you have to watch out for are the people obsessed with vampires -- novels, Bram Stoker,
fake plastic fangs, that sort of shit. They don't hang out at nightclubs, too social for them,
because they're effectively social retards. What they do is they pretend to be vampires, like
drinking blood and napping till 4 p.m. and shit, and since they're social retards they meet up
with people exactly like themselves and kidnap strangers and bite them over and over.
What is important is that they're not actually vampires, because you can murder them with
ease. Most of them just freeze up when you point a Glock at them.


If you're hunting in Hawaii, stay far and away from the water. There's sharks that turn into men
there, and their senses don't get any weaker on land. One drop of blood, and they can follow
you forever.

Well, I heard something, not sure if I believe it's the actual reason, that there was some truly
nasty road rage incident involving something supernatural, possibly one of the wolf-people. It
was mostly a coincidence about the servicemen, they were just in a nearby vehicle at the time. I
heard there's a couple others, including one other serviceman, at a nearby hospital that are still
in recovery, and the doctors are blaming "shrapnel" for the injuries.


Sorry to tell you, guys, but cero-cero's tape of the so called Werewolves of Madrid is a fake. I'll
run through the issues that I detected:
00:00:02:12 to 00:00:04:01 => first sight of Werewolf, in the classic wolf-man form. At this
point a frame-by-frame analysis shows it has a faint green halo around it, indicative of a greenscreen.

00:00:12:01 => the recorder turns around to show a person accompanying the recorder
apparently get their head ripped off. Quite apart from the fact that there is a brief discontinuity,
the blood viscosity for the stump is far too low for real human blood, as is the blood pressure too
high. It's clearly a hose on a dummy spraying red water. The green halo is gone, to be replaced
by something that moves in a far less organic manner, and it look a bit smaller (see attached file
for dimensional analysis). It must be a man in a suit
00:00:14:24 => What appears to be a very large wolf, with pronounced teeth quite out of line
with real wolves, and longer front legs, jumps onto the cameraman from the front as he backs
away. There is another scene of violence lasting 3 seconds exactly, using the same high pressure
blood, before the camera screen is blocked. The way the blood drips is obviously fake, too.
There are words spoken after that from an unknown voice in an unknown tongue. I talked to a
scientist-friend in the Nulls; he sent me to an academic, who said it had some shared vocabulary
with ancient Sumerian. That's innovative, I must admit; normally they just go for the native
language put through a reverb. Nevertheless, this is an obvious fake, possibly a viral campaign
for a film, or a trap to lure us out.

Out here, so close to the Australian coastline, we get our own share of shark-men and the like.
I'm sure you've all seen that picture with the giant tadpole near that dude in the boat. I've
taken to nicknaming him Lunch when I'm drunk and alone.
Boat dude, not the tadpole.


There was this guy I used to hang with out west in New Mexico. He was obsessed, and I do
mean that. He seemed to be convinced that this local artist guy was a Wolfman. So he decided
that the best thing to do, was to start stalking him. I mean he had one entire wall of his
apartment pinned up with maps and photos and shit of this guy and where he worked, and
where he hung out, and what have you. I'm thinking he's crazy, but I'm talking with him in his
apartment one night when this fog rolls in outside. Clear night, but all of a sudden, you couldn't
see ten feet away. So he opens the front door, gets a flashlight, and starts shining it out into the
fog. I'm about to tell him that he's got no chance in hell of seeing anything, when his light
starts reflecting off these eyes, about five pairs, just standing there looking at us. We freak out,
we run back inside, and when the fog lifts, I'm outta there.
Not the end of it though. The next day, he starts coming down with something nasty. He's
throwing up, can barely get out of bed, that sort of thing. And then he starts raving. He starts
going on and on about 'rabid dogs' or 'the children of the rabid dog' or 'Idishak' or something.
Yeah... at the end, he even starts speaking in tongues. Then like a week after this starts, he's just
gone. Didn't check out of his apartment or anything, it's like he just walked out the door and


Magic will never harm anyone wearing a wedding veil. Something about an oath made by the
wizards of ye olde days and shit. But you have to be a woman and you have to be legally married

with papers and a ring. I know someone willing to be the groom, now all I have to do is find the
money for a sex change.

That old knob and tube wiring is a great defense against magic. Keeps everything anchored in
how things are.

All those AOL CDs? There's a spell placed on every one of them. Doesn't look like it does
anything -- that's why no one's made a stink about em. Still wouldn't keep any, if I were you.

Don't sleep in a room that's too old when you're on the job. Knob and tube wiring is just asking
for an enterprising mage to burn the place down with you in it.

Hammer a nail into both of your hands, and no one can work magic on you. No one.


Look at these marks. No, don't just scan your eyes over them, actually look. As in, "pray to the
Lord that he grant you the True Sight of Saint Abel", brother.
Now, look. From the Rosy Star, a group of small time occultists in New York. We've checked
them out, not a witch among their normal members. And the Order of the Argent Bridge, from
Chicago; likewise, clean. And the Brethren of Truth, from Detroit, and Mu Kappa Pi, a sorority
at Havard, and the Ethereal, from Miami. All clean of witches, when we checked them out.
But, look. The same symbol, in all these groups; this sort of twisty, maze-like pattern, which
looks vaguely like a mask. There are witch-signs hidden in all of them; the ones which we can
only read while the Lord grants us the true sight.
Now, look at this. From inside the Aegis Kai Doru chapterhouse, in this very city. Look at it.
The same mark.
What does it mean, brother?

If you attach a gold or copper chain to your foot and then let it touch the ground through a hole
in your shoe, it will protect you against magic.


Yeah, you know Kira Dark, Occult Investigator? That webshow with that hot chick who
apparently uses magic to fight daemons? Well, I have it on good authority (I got a note through
my door from a man calling himself Mr Panopticon, and checked it out. It's real.) that she's
actually, really a witch. As in, they're hiding in plain sight and using our networks to distribute
their stuff. Of course, they use magic to change their faces, but they're really people, really doing
But that's a bit confusing, right? I mean, we're the good guys, trying to break the lies that the
Man spreads. What could a witch benefit from showing us the videos of her fighting daemons
and stuff?
Don't watch her any more, that's my advice.

We captured this witch a few nights ago. (We keep her drugged and tied her up in a shack so
we're safe.) We're trying to get her to witch up serious poison brew -- like I mean witch nerve
gas -- for our next hunt. We'll let you know if it works.


Hey, you know Kendall Hart? That dude who wrote Queen Cthulhu and Da Vinci's Robots.
I've been trying to get a copy of his latest work for ages, 'cause his articles rock, but they keep
on selling out even before they go on sale. Can't ever find them anywhere else, though.
Anyway, yes, he's dead. And I talked to a guy from the big L (you know, the "santa-nists"), and
they'd taken a psychic along to his body ('cause they were interested too, 'cause apparently
there was some demonology stuff in his work) and it screamed of witchcraft, in a way that said
that he's been spending a lot of time around them, and that he'd been killed by them, but
wasn't one himself. The bastards had been stopping me getting his books, then they killed him!


Anyone remember the outbreak of that weird disease that only surgery could treat? ...The one
that was moving?
I've watched some of the tapes of operations from that era.
One of the doctors - can't find his name anywhere - drew pentagrams on most of his patients
with his finger. I've watched the tapes a hundred times, it can't be anything else.
The tapes are public record, they shouldn't be hard to find.

Witch enchantments huh? Look, man, I know you think you're thinking right but get up right
now, find some New Coke, mix it with vinegar and some sea salt (see this link for a video for
the right anti-hex ritual). You'll thank me for it later.
Oh, right, no sorcerer dies without leaving her familiars behind. You didn't see any
frogs/cats/wasps suddenly disappear after her death did you?

I've managed to track a group of spellslingers to some factory outside of town. I went and looked
the place up, and it's some subsidiary of some comparatively small corporation. Weird thing is, I
went and checked some of their merchandise, and every single product they make has the exact
same word hidden somewhere on it.


I met the horned god and he said he'll help in my fight against vampires. Then he asked me to
help in catching another type of prey - souls of people that slipped his realm of transcendent
bliss and turned into goblins and spirits upon coming to earth. He says they gone mad and fear
him, but will regain peace once he takes them back...

You can feel them, can't you? Out of the corners of your eyes, you glimpse their world. It's not
so far. Beyond that factory, beneath that bridge, just across the river. They steal our children,

leaving twigs and stones in their place. Winter Kings and bitter knights. They play games with
us as the pieces.

Extremes of geekness are caused by the fey overloading peoples imaginations to feed from.
The catpiss men are the seeds and rind left behind, the indigestible waste.

There's a rash of documented child disappearances, growing and diminishing in severity since
people started populating the Pine Barrens. The way I hear it, someone opened a hole into
some... other place. Things come out of it and snatch away kids. The story I heard (from one of
the locals, so they might just be blowing hot air up my ass because I was an outsider) says that
the things coming out of this hole are other children, abducted years or decades before and
twisted into horse-headed winged monsters to steal more children for the first Jersey Devil.


Demons are less fond of possessing humans these days. I'll bet having to deal with functions like
pooping and breathing is a hassle when you've been incorporeal for eternity. No, most of them
inhabit televisions and disguise themselves in the shows. If you're ever watching Jeopardy and
there's a fourth contestant, run like hell, and return only once you're prepared to blow your
television up.

One of those Network Zero guys told me that Gene Roddenberry was an accomplished
occultist, and left behind clues to an impending demonic possession of key members of the
government in episodes of Star Trek. If you watch them all (that's right, even Enterprise) in the
right order (left in Roddenberry's will, encoded, of course) you'll be able to see the pattern.


There's a surgeon in Beverly Hills, expatriate from Tehran or something, remarkable medical
doctor, works with all the biggest stars. He makes them beautiful, without flaw, he may as well
be the one who makes them famous celebs, his work is that good.
I'm also pretty damn certain he's a djinn. I mean, I can't be positive, he could just be one of
those psychotic surgeons that think they're artists and that God's design is worthless and has to
be fixed. But there's a lot of signs that show he is probably in league with the Devil, if not one
I'm not saying his name, just that if you see an Iranian plastic surgeon in LA with a deformed
left ring finger, that's the guy.

Usually a good idea to have a round of webgremlin exorcisms. Internet demons aren't pretty.


Drugs don't protect you because they toughen you up -- they protect you because they mess you
up. Your brain, on drugs, is fried, and doesn't work the way it's supposed to.
Which is good, because your brain is supposed to make you a slave.
Like, if you ever see an unfallen angel, run the hell away. They still have bloody root on your

brain, and they can just tell you the facts of the universe in a way you can't ignore. What they
told me is that I'm going to commit suicide on January 13th, 2011 at 3:44 UTC, in a location
that I'm going to find in the patterns of a sequence of theorems I'm going to prove about the
proof-theoretic complexity of second-order arithmetic.
Drugs helped me fight it for a while -- I stayed too wasted to do any real mathematics, which
kept me from analyzing the patterns in its song. Then a friend came by, and told me they told
her that I shouldn't be doing drugs, and after she proved it to me she was finished, so she
checked herself into a hospital and went into a catatonic coma. So I don't do drugs anymore.
I'm still trying to decide whether I should publish those theorems or not, before my telos is

I met an angel.

It's the only way to describe it. Not one of these muscley oiled Greek statue angels we tend to
see nowadays, but one like these in the old testament. One of the scary and awe-inspiring ones.
We were looking for our new story, and decided to check out rumored UFO activity in a small
town farm. The farmer was very cooperative once we told him we were simply college students
working on this as a school project (I admit I was pleasantly surprised). He told us weird lights
had been appearing in his fields for some nioghts now, and that he was too scared to look. We
set up our equipment, waiting to see, at most, a few kids playing pranks. It began at around
midnight. Small flames appeared, floating in a big circle around us. We got excited and started
studying the event. Actually, I'm uploading the tape. There's only the preliminary event and
then our confused reactions afterward. There's only static during the actual "meeting". But
maybe some of you tech-wizzes will find stuff we missed.
After about five minutes of the flames floating around us, it happened. There was no link, it was
kinda like a movie "jumping". Suddenly, it was there, and the floating flames had become a
raging inferno. It was like being in the eye of a storm made of fire. And the angel... It looked
like a mummy, with its dried skin close to the bones, but it was obviously inhuman. It had no
legs, the lower body instead continuing somewhat like a fish's tail. It had eight skeletal
arm/wings hybrid: three on one side and five on the other. It had no eyes in its flat face, and no
nose either. It had a mouth, but I got the feeling it only had one giant tooth, looking like a
jumbled mess of teeth fused together, on his upper jaw. But then maybe I'm imagining that part,
I don't know. There was another circle of flame, this one much smaller and vertical, right above
it's head. It looked as if the angel had a flaming halo. There were seven eyeballs within the
halo, slowly rotating and looking at us. It felt as if a powerful pressure was put on our bodies and
mind. Most of my team fell to the floor, one clutching his head and the other weeping. I kept
thinking about Revelation, as if the word had bene burned into my brain, but I also had this
feeling that the revelation was not for me. I... It's really hard to describe. Apparently, the
weeping team member had Greek prayers implanted in his mind. He can now recite them by
heart without any accent, despite not speaking a word of Greek.
I must have been mad, but I spoke to the apparition. I asked it what it was. It answered:

Who is the Principle?

Why are you here?
What? What murder?
And then it was gone. I think I puked on my shoes. And just to prove that it wasn't a dream,
the entire field had been burned. The farmer came to see if we were alright, and seeing how we
were quite obviously shaken, he took us in for the rest of the night. We didn't tell him what we
I checked on the date the angel gave us. Presidential candidate Obama will be in town that day.
I don't know what that means, if it even means anything. I don't know what I'm supposed to
do. Anybody want to help me, we'll set up a meeting the usual way. Send me an email without
any personal info, and we'll set up a handshake.

Hey, call me a noob, but is there any truth to that Jersey Devil thing?

Which one?

There's the Leeds Devil, which is a singular atrocity against God and nature. I'm not sure if it
was just the Devil's son, or a demon itself. It lurks in the depths of the Barrens, and is nursing a
grudge against those outside the Barrens because of an attack by Stephen Decatur, some grand
old naval hero back in the 1800s.

January 1909 is regarded as the most mainstream the Devil ever got. I've got sources who say
this was some... mating period for a number of monsters, not really sapiant, but beasts that
matched the Devil's appearance. I dunno if this is going to happen again, but I've been noticing
the Devil sightings have been building up the past two years, and next January is the 100-year
So, might want to keep an eye out for that when you're killing time before the American
inauguration next January.



I've been getting a lot of reports, way too many to be just someone yanking my chain, that
Japan is flooded with bakemono. It's not just what you'd expect, stuff like vampires, werewolves,
warlocks, that sort of thing... no, I mean the exact sort of weird unearthly crap Japanese myths
are full of.
A good friend of mine from Kobe was killed a month ago by something he was chasing called
the rokuro-kubi. Yeah, the things with the elongated necks. He thought it would make a good
video, until the thing latched onto his neck from a couple yards away.

No luck getting the video, either.

I was once watching the fragment of the girl-on-self sex tape BlackRazor sent me before he
stopped posting, except the woman was a statue. Not like it was fetish porn but the woman was
like a walking statue made of glass and plastic. Like a Barbie doll, except I looked closely and I
could see that her teeth were all sharp and her hair was moving like long long febrile antennae.
Now I never watch porn.

I've heard of the Barbie doll people. But the ones on the CCTV clip I saw looked more like a
department store mannequin, and one of them like a statue, like a marble statue. They both had
old mops for hair. They also seemed to be playing with electrical sockets for some reason. It was
freaky. Those of you who have my Youtube profile, request an invite and you can see it. I'm not
posting that here though. Soon as they notice how popular my profile is, and what kinds of
videos are on there, I'll be B& fast.

There is a man named William. He looks like a vagrant and wanders the entire length of the
Gulf Coast over the course of a year. He doesn't look like much and honestly unless you have a
really good reason to find him you won't. But if you're looking for something, you sometimes
find him. Give him a few bucks and he'll tell you your fortune. Give him whiskey and he'll tell
you where the bodies are buried. I gave him a sandwich and he told me where my true love
was...and how to contact her. Married last year, it's great. My friend gave him a bag full of jelly
beans and came into money. He's great... just don't bother him for long. And for heaven's sake
don't threaten him. He's eaten 2 cops and 4 mobsters last I hear.


I know someone working on a discovery they made a few years back called "responsive auditory
hallucinations". Basically, rather than the brain processing information it hears and the
individual just having that input to work off of, the brain does some sort of weird reverb, like
someone was playing music editor with your brain. You can hear the same words, but there's
some pattern-recognition issue or emotional overstimulate that makes you think there's a
deeper meaning.
He told me that he thinks it's connected to some cryptid/parasite that's always existed, but that
interacts oddly with human physiology, and that might be responsible for a small percentage of
presumed schizophrenia cases.
Of course, now he's getting into some weird tangent where the hallucinations turn up a notch,
and rather than hearing the same words as an unafflicted person, just with deeper attached
meaning, you hear completely different words, or see words jumble in front of you to spell out
some message.


You know all those chain emails and viral links that popped up after Hurricane Katrina and the
Indonesian Tsunami? Those ones that showed all the stock photos of weird-ass sea life, and
claimed they were washed up from the deep and left on the shore? Obviously they're a load of
bunk, but I can't help but think that the whole concept might not be as ridiculous as it first

So this was back in '06, right? Southern Louisiana was still in a world of shit from the hurricane,
and so it was just predictable that we were the only ones who either heard about, or gave a shit
about the bizzarrely high number of disappearances happening in this stretch of bayou on the
coast near the Alabama border. So, naturally we go in to check it out, and deal with three
weeks of unfriendly rednecks, swarms of mosquitoes, and mud up to our waists with nothing to
show for it. We're about to call the whole thing quits, when on the last night we were gonna be
there, on the way back from the supposed spot where some tourist had vanished (and we didn't
find anything. Surprise, surprise) this guy, you probably know him on here as SgtGunny78, sees
something moving off in the water. He wades out to check, we all call him a fucking idiot,
because it's probably a gator, and suddenly, he get snagged by something beneath the surface
and pulled under.
Naturally, we start panicking, but he comes scrambling out of the water a few seconds later,
blood streaming from this nasty gash on his leg, and then it just gets weird. This thing that
looks like a giant lobster comes surging out of the swamp and grabs him by the leg again. So we
all lay into the thing with whatever we have handy, until it finally lets him go and slides back
underwater. This one guy we had with us was moonlighting with the Null, and apparently he
recognized the thing. He called it a Euripterid or something, and said they'd been extinct for
something like 200 million years.
So this thing was sitting on the sea bottom for all that time, with nobody ever running into one
until now. Makes you wonder what else is down there...


Don't use the ATMs or self-checkout lanes at big box stores. It's easy enough for a human to
forget a face, and even the security cameras at normal stores are junk, but there's something
different in those things. When you stare into the scanner, something stares into you.

Wake a sleepwalker, their soul gets lost in la-la-land and something else takes over their body.

Trying to use witches or vampires as resources is a fool's game. I heard about these guys, based in
Reno, who caught themselves some sort of heroin addicted psychic. They figured they could use
the drugs as the carrot and keep him in their basement, making predictions or the such for
them. Tried that for a week. The place burned to the ground. All of them dead. Fucker went
Carrie on them, destroyed the place.

Hey guys, a tip for you: Get a second computer, preferably a laptop, for this shit and pay for it in
cash. Never upload in any place which requires you to pay in cash. A friend of mine was killed
because some computer savvy wizard was able to locate him through him because he just bought
a new laptop with top of the line video editing software preinstalled. The idiot put it on his
credit card and thus signed his own death certificate.


Don't let your kids trick-or-treat.

Seriously, never let them do it.

Y'know the stories about how some whacko ends up putting razors in candied apples or poison
on the candy? Well, they're really out there. Some super-strict Midwest evangelical church
thinks Halloween, really, all pagan festivals disguised as Christian traditions, is evil and the
work of the Devil to lure children and the unaware into sin.
They've become a cult now, doing what they feel they have to to save those children. In sum,
ensuring those children get poisoned or bite down on razors, stuff like that. They're entirely
committed, totally out of their goddamn heads, and the police still haven't pieced it together to
target followers of this cult.


Before you get all Buffy on the things that go bump in the check and make sure that
the thing going bump in the night wasn't trying to keep something worse from causing problems.
Case in point, my team was involved in an operation in [REDACTED]. where the locals were
telling us about a pack of werewolves that regarded the local sheep, small children, etc as fast
food. Almost felt sorry for the werewolves, we took them down in less than a week.
The next day... the flaying deaths and eating of internal organs started. In groups of ten.
Took us nearly a month to find the source, find the way to kill it (we had to call in a
[REDACTED] to handle it, and that's only because we couldn't swing a nuclear device), and
even now we're not certain that it's "dead"-we'll have to monitor it to make sure that it doesn't
come back again. Cost us three good team members, and two more are going to be in the body
and fender shop for months. I'm still having nightmares whenever I smell burning beef tallow.
The point is... do your research. We nearly had the same problem in a domestic op, until we
looked at some really old papers to find out that there was a wave of deaths that wasn't what
was going on. Helped them out, and we can probably get a favor owed if needed.


It's called the 'Ghost Radio.' You can only hear it along the older stretches of Route 66 for some
reason, and only if there's no one else around. The announcer's dead, or never lived to begin
with, and the music is all pre-war stuff, the Ink Spots and old Bing Crosby numbers. But
between those old crooners the Radio will tell you things. Secret things. Wicked things.

You need an old TV to do it--the kind with a VHF and UHF knob--but if you happen to be up
this way and you have have one, and you wedge the UHF knob between channels 62 and 63,
you can pick up what I think is some kind of low-powered pirate television station.
The weird thing is, all it shows 24 hours a day is close-ups of different meats being butchered.

Once a year Channel Meat shows a commerical. It's always on the Winter Equinox and it's a
knife ad. All night from moon rise to moon fall, the same thing. You never see any faces, just
the same pair of woman's hands. She shows off a set of butchers knives, an address flashes, then
the $1000 in unmarked bills price. We checked out the address, it doesn't exist. The local post
office just hangs up on you. We said, sure, why not and gathered the $1000 required and waited.

2 weeks later we get the finest, and I do mean the finest set of Butchers Knives we ever saw.
They bound a leather carry bag, human...we had it tested, polished to a grey shine and never
dull. Never. We showed it off to a local butcher and he comented on how lovely they were
untill he ran a finger along the side. We didn't noticed the faint etching of the Roman Pluto
symbol. He did. Then he turned white and told us to leave his shop, cursing at us the whole
time about not brining such foul objects in his place of business. We heard later he brought in
an priest to bless and cast out evil spirits. Fun stuff.

I got a tape from a guy I know. It shows like a kitchen, with one of those big cast iron stoves.
There's a woman there, and she strips naked, but she doesn't play to the camera or nothing, it's
not sexual. So she strips, and opens the oven door, and climbs in. After exactly two minutes (I
timed it), the oven starts fucking shaking and rattling violently. Those things weigh a goddamn
ton, and it's rocking back and forth. Then, the shaking slows a little, and smoke comes out.
Thick black smoke, out of every door in the oven. After that, nothing. The tape goes on for two
and a half more hours, and nothing else happens. Scared me shitless, it did.

Out in Key West if you tune to the very low bands of AM you might pick up what sounds like
the Emergency Weather stations. Same digital voice, same bland tone and inflection. Only, it's
only there about 2 weeks before a big Tropical Storm or Hurricane is about to come in. Even
before it shows up in the NOAA projections. It's always accurate and precise about landfall,
wind speed, and estimated damages. Only some of the locals seem to know about it and get very
defensive if you ask too many questions where it's coming from. Scary thing is, if you try and
triangulate it it shows as if it's coming from out in the water.. where nothing is located. At least
above it.

And it's not like those are the only weird broadcasts. Apparently, there's a station that only
comes in clear in the Baltic Sea that plays recordings of ships that are known to have sunk
somewhere in the sea itself, and that are still lost somewhere at the bottom.

And France has a really nasty radio haunting going on. WW2, the French Resistance got a
bunch of radios and telegraphs and stuff to communicate, right? Well, apparently the dead
haven't worked out the war's over, because you can still get the reports and communications
they tried sending before they were caught and executed by the Germans. I know an entire cell
that's trying to send messages back to these ghost pianistes, to tell them they can stop sending.

We don't get your Channel Meat here in Scandinavia, but there's something weird on the radio
waves. At times, especially in the winter and at night, you can find an unlisted station, usually
around 101 MHz, where a woman is listing prime numbers in Swedish. It only stays on the air
for a minute or so at a time, though I've heard someone claim they once got it for three minutes
straight. Nothing malicious about it that I know of, but it's an interesting parallel. If anyone
knows of similar "ghost transmissions" elsewhere in the world, please let us know.

Up until recently I lived in Hazelton, PA, you know, that little town that got national coverage
for the anti-illegal immigrant policies. We used to have this radio station, you could never find
it on purpose, you'd have to flip through channels, not think too hard and hope you get lucky.
Anyway, it was in Spanish and never played music. We don't have Spanish channels up here,
especially not talk shows. Anyway, I decided to write down some of the things beings said and
translate them. It was all hate messages. "Stupid cracker" and stuff like that. I even checked the
translation with a few people confirm it.. There was never any dialogue, it was always just one
voice. One massive hateful voice. Maybe it's a Legion? Those are legit, right?

That meat channel, I don't think that's a broadcast. It's something in the TV. Some night
when you tune into it, bend over the back of the set and take a good whiff. You can't miss the
rotting smell up close. And if you're squeamish, don't crack the set open while it's showing the
meat show.

Ab ovo, ad vitam paramus.

Auxilio ab alto
Magis hic: 43 04'30.48N; 94 06'38.74W

Ultima ratio regum est cruor.

Haud spes.
Secui Unus.
Secui Duos.

Verus puto:
sulum numerus est velico.
cavo hic quod haud qua alius.



Twelve pennies, seven quarters, four nickels, all from before 1986. Follow the sidewalk south
from the bar on Fifth, turn around at the second street down, then take the third alley. Go
through the broken chain link fence and you'll see him standing at the light pole. Always got a
glass eye, scruffy beard, and one of those old umbrellas back from when plastic wasn't trustworthy. Panhandles with coffee cup that looks like it said "World's Best Dad" an aeon ago.
Answers to John, but don't try talking to him. Put the money in the cup, and let him shake it
three times.
It's not fortune-telling. Do what he ask, and it'll always end well for you. Don't, and no skin off
your back but a couple bucks.
Just... don't bring a silver dollar. Trust me.

A guy I know broke into one of the bottling companies near Chattanooga. Says there's
something really nasty going into that new low-cal stuff they're spitting out. Thought he just
had a bad trip -- seriously, who blended radioactive puppies into pop ? -- but saw a gal pegged as
a werewolf gag just smelling the stuff.
The really ugly question is the people drinking the stuff like water.

Two shots whiskey, one shot ouzo, and one shot southern comfort. Not the smoothest on its
way down, but after a couple of those, you can tell who's... not quite human. They're the ones
you only see an odd number.

How did I get into this? I got a knife with a rainbow blade for Christmas.
I looked into and saw that it held sunlight and gentle rain, and could see all the good things of
the earth.
Then I began to see that which didn't fit in.

With the economic downturn, some people will do anything for money. When you're desperate
enough, you'll see the TV adverts, or maybe something in the papers. It's a phone number, and
an offer of anything you want. It's a loan. But you don't pay back in money. You have to make
people suffer.

I met a man at a crossroads when I was coming home late one night. He had a lantern in one
hand and a sword in the other. Looked like stepped outta the 1700's or somethin'. Shined the
lantern in my face and said I could pass, but not to look back. I really wish I'd listened to him

There's a man with no face.

His pocket-watch goes backwards.
He'll help you, if you dare ask him.
But be wary...
Other things follow him.

You ever wonder who writes those strange internet urban legends and creepypasta rumors that
are unattributed? Do you think they're really just games penned by some bored kid?
They aren't.

Why don't we eat monsters?

Because they were once human.
What about the ones that were never human?
You got me there. Alright, let's start field dressing this thing. Wonder if it'll taste more like crab
or gator?

Dracula and Frankenstein were based on true stories. Yeah, they say Dracula could walk out in
sulight with out going up in flames just like in the book. Apparently they got together back in
the mid 20th century. They decided to form a band.
What? You explain how those two can still tour at their supposed ages.

No no no. Japan doesn't exist. Neither does Singapore. Neither Europe, or Australia, or Africa,
or anything south of the Panama Canal. When you reach the borders of North and Central
America there is just water and water and infinite ocean and infinite water extending out
toward nowhere. The secret invisible rulers of the world, the faceless angels, the black thrones,
the all-seeing towers control this. We are alone in the universe stranded upon our little rock
and until we can burn the servants of the secret invisible rulers of the world, which are also our
common Enemy, we will not be free.


Want to know something else? Did you ever notice how when you're going outside, maybe
buying a newspaper, maybe a cola, or just taking a stroll with your dog... you never see birds in
the sky? I mean, out in the forest there are literally dozen of bird species but as soon as you step
into a small town, even if it's right in the middle of a valley, you never see birds.
Except pigeons, in parks and near churches. Pigeon, the winged rat, able to survive pretty much
anything. What's driving the birds away? I dunno. Some wicce girl told me something about the
human ideosphere's viral memelogy rebelling and pushing back nature into almost a
compartmented reality while we sat in the middle of faded 70s bean bags and gray haze.
She might be right though. When was the last time you even thought of nature as being where
you live, as opposite to somewhere you travel to?


The world is five years old, and it's not the first world, either. Something... HAPPENED, I
don't know what, but the whole history of the world, and more than that, the metaphysics, the

cosmology behind the stuff... it all changed, but-- retroactively, so everyone thinks it's been like
this since the beginning.
If anyone finds a Gabriella Sanduval, about five seven, 120 pounds, 32 years old, dark brown
hair and a birth mark that kind of looks like the boot of Italy, let me know. She used to be my
I don't think she remembers.


Rumour - no, I'm not telling you who I got this one from, at least not yet - has it that some
places don't get supernatural activity at all. No vamps, no witches, no weird shit full stop. My
contact thinks they're some sort of counterbalance to all the mystical stuff some witches do,
stops stuff blowing up in their faces. Reckons we could harness it, too, to hurt 'em. Make some
of our own weird shit in a place like that at the wrong moment, and their big bad ritual will go
wrong in the worst possible way.
He also thinks he can enchant a set of lead blades with the essence of the place if he can find its
centre. Or at least he did ... he's not come back from there. I can get to him by phone reception is super-clear, in fact, even though the place is miles off the beaten track. But he
doesn't want to - says he's met a nice girl, gonna settle down, get married again, even got a job
at a bank. I can't bear to hear it...

Left hand in a bowl of salt,

Right hand holding a cross,
Facing a mirror,
Say the Lord's Prayer three times,
When the dark shapes start appearing in the mirror, smash it with the cross.


Yeah, good for your fundie friends. Seriously. I don't really care whether fetuses have souls or
not, but the psychic energy that abortion clinics radiate is enormous and deeply malignant. It
affects everything. My friends and I are trying to get some of that witched-up Kirilian cameras
that the You-Know-Who corporations seem to disseminate every now and then for their
mysterious agendas, so we can show what kind of psychic darkness surrounds the clinics. Then
we can shut them down
One trick, though: those clinics have such overwhelming auras that most psychics and witches
and ghosts just can't stand them, you know, for them it's like fighting in shit and smoke and
mud. If you have to start a fight with those types, do it around an abortion clinic.


Ever notice that it's almost always teenagers who are 60%+ of the reported possessed victims?
One of the things I hear is that there is a window that our minds/souls/whatever are a little
more open. Call it an underdeveloped spiritual immune system. Until your proverbial balls
drop, anything from Casper to Satan himself could hollow your head out and make a nice little
room for it. But there seems to be a way to strengthen those defenses. Some claim that a drug

triggered vision quest or an intense meditation regime will help your psychic boundaries
toughen up. Kinda like developing a resistance to something by exposing yourself to it slightly.
Heck, people who were previously possessed seem to be very resistant post spiritual removal, as
if their very being closes the door and locks it tight.
I'm not saying you should go on a peyote fueled bender to toughen up, but I think we all could
use a little mind expanding, no?


Nah, it's simpler than that. The reason that teenagers make up most of the cases is that most
spirits, demons and ghosts find small children useless; the bodies are too weak. Now, adults do
get possessed a lot, but they tend to be bright enough to use the large amount of human
knowledge to avoid being caught and losing their nice home. It's just that we find teenagers
because they don't know how not to be caught, and still live with their parent who monitor
them, but their bodies can hold the spirit.
Anyway, I know as a fact that hallucinogens actually make you more vulnerable to possession.
When your mind's off wandering, other things can get inside.

Here's the deal. I know some of us were in on Cloverfield. We must have been.
We do have all that "extraneous" viral marketing crap related to the movie. But one of my
friends in the Mysterii says that Slusho and that "terrorist" cell are real entities. Real in the
sense that a "Surf-Sonar" search can dig up their records, but any other means will fail.
So, I need this Surf-Sonar software. Anyone know where it is?

What happened to the Silver Spikes video? I saw it on here. They were testing something at an
Air Force base and these silver spikes rose from the ground, impaling two MPs. Where's it at?


I've been working as elementary school therapist for three years. I won't mention the name; I
don't want any of you coming around to check it out, not because I don't want you here, but
seeing you guys get branded as sexual predators for hanging around an elementary school isn't
on my list of things to do. If you don't remember I took this job in order to protect these
children from the supernaturals in the area, and not to sound too smug but I think we've done a
pretty good job. Only two kids dead in as many years, and only one from supernaturals.
Anyway, a kid recently came to me recently, because as he told me, "the world has a beat, and
everyone's following it." He told me that when ever he heard anyone speak to him the words
they said would always fit into a simple beat-rest-rest-beat. Now, it didn't seem to bother him,
and actually he admitted to me it was fun for the world to have its own "beat to dance too." The
thing that bothers me is that I had the same thing happen to me when I was younger, the same
beat too. It stopped when I was 7 though, or maybe it left. Yesterday, it came back. The kid and
I seem to have our trances, states...whatever, at the same time too. I'm not sure what it means,
but if you have any idea, what might be going on, or if you're experiencing the same
phenomena, reply.

I think my camera got possessed. It still looks normal, but ever since a month ago whenever I
take a picture all sorts of crazy crap shows up on it. Sometimes it shows spirits or ghosts.
Occasionally it shows everybody surrounded by weird colors. Hell, one time it showed what
looked like a bunch of cables made of light spiraling around some building. Weird as it is, it's
been helpful. It's made it a lot easier to track down ghosts, that multicolored thing is helpful for
picking out monsters out of a crowd, and those crazy light-cables happened to all be wound
around a witch's bolthole.

Come to the Crowbar on 17th and Mallard next Friday night at 9:15 p.m. The nightclub. You
know the one.
You will see a man in a red shirt, kind of looks like a douchebag, with that fake orange tan and
the striped shirt, that sort of shit. Do not be fooled. Be on your guard. When he's sufficiently
drunk -- but remain on your guard -- catch him alone and assault him. He should be carry a ball
of wadded paper, the size of a donut hole, in his jeans. You'll know it when you see it: It's heavy
and either a rusted-red color or a bruised-purple shade.
When you've obtained the ball, talk to me, and we'll sort things out. Do not unravel the ball of
wadded paper.

Back Cover

This book includes:

A compilation of fan-written
rumors and plot hooks for the
World of Darkness
The private whispers of
vampires, werewolves, mages,
Prometheans, changelings and
Investigate the darkest and
most bizarre corners of the
populate and flesh out your
game with layers of lies and
For use with the World of
Darkness Rulebook