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