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Shadowlands Circle

Patterns In Salt And Ash
Cost: 20 Motes

As this spell is cast, the necromancer's eyes catch, inexorably, those of her subject's. As the world pulses grey about them, they are thrown into a momentary but stark contrast. A single tear falls, and as the necromancer catches it upon her palm it turns to a powder as dark as soot but biting as salt. With a gentle coaxing from her lips, it takes to the wind with a bitter sigh, spiralling through the air in half-seen shapes and there to remain until her subject breathes it in. Holding one's breath delays but does not dismiss this spell; as soon as the subject takes one in, it has full effect.

The subject of the spell will never forget the necromancer. When she passes from life, his memories of her remain acute and telling, to the point where she will appear frequently in his dreams. Depending on the relationship between the two, she may haunt his thoughts then, reminding him of guilt he has never spoken of and failures none have witnessed, or else act as an avatar of wisdom or comfort. She is not truly alive, and may well have passed into Lethe; this spell simply imprints her own nature onto the subject's memories. If dead, her behaviour is determined by the ST, although former PCs appearing in this fashion may have their players consulted for ideas. This spell has no mechanical effect, being instead one of narrative impact.

Ascending Scarlet Font
Cost: 15 motes

As this spell begins to be cast, the sorceress's hands sweat blood. She twirls on the spot and raises her hands high, the gore evaporating away to leave a spiral of softly phosphorescent, pungent red mist. All shed blood within sight of her mimics her actions, and as the wispy fountains fall away, a maddening bloody pall is left over the battlefield. Its scent ignites a thirst for violence in all who experience it.

All characters within (sorceress's Essence x 5) yards of the sorceress or any shed blood so affected feel themselves overcome by rage and hatred; creatures with no sense of smell are unaffected, whilst those covering their noses receive a Temperance+Resistance roll at a difficulty equal to the sorceress's Essence to resist the spell's effects.

For each character affected, if an enemy is within sight and combat has not already started, a successful Temperance roll is required to avoid attacking them immediately, regardless of social customs and circumstance. If combat has already started, mortals will not even consider retreat, defensive tactics or nonlethal approaches; they cease fighting only when there are no enemies left alive. Exalts and other magical beings must spend a point of temporary Willpower and fail a reflexive Valour roll in order to break away from combat; if this roll succeeds, they may spend as many points of Willpower as they wish to gain rerolls.

Blossoming Veil of the Hereafter Cost: 10 motes

As this invocation begins, wispy veils of dull grey essence coalesce from the air around the necromancer, billowing around him and gathering in both size and momentum as they swirl. Upon its completion they sweep outward, washing first the colour then the very essence away from any mundane matter they touch. What remains is transfigured, corrupted from the body of Gaia to the matter of the underworld.

Each invocation is capable of transforming only one type of element, chosen at the beginning of the spell. Its effect has a radius of 1 yard, multiplied by ten for each point the caster's Essence exceeds 2. The effect, dependant on the matter transformed, is detailed below.

Air

Air turns into the substance of Prayer, perceived as a continuous, wordless sussuration. Anyone within an area of elemental prayer can breathe normally. Mortals are treated as magical beings in the area, and magical beings benefit from Cult +bull;. Intelligent ghosts and gods alike find the experience very comforting, and many will happily relax there indefinately if no duties or threats are presented to them. Prayer dissipates in one scene unless created in a place of worship.

Earth

Earth turns into the substance of Jade. This affects any metal in the area, turning it into a magically inert but physically pure form of jade. Metal weapons and armour in the area when the spell is cast are considered one quality step better than they actually are, to a maximum of Perfect. The jade may be used as currency, but essence vision of any kind will show that it is worthless.

Fire

Fire turns into the substance of Pyreflame. Although not as viciously corrosive as pyrefire, the blue flames affect creatures normally immune to the ravages of fire, and cannot be extinguished. The only way to 'put out' pyreflame is to bury it.

Water

Water turns into the substance of Blood. This does not replenish essence to ghosts or Abyssals as normal blood does, but tastes equally fine to their palates and attracts predators just as efficiently. Any still body of water significantly tainted with blood will eutrophicate over a matter of weeks, becoming a foul black soup. Mortals within the spell's effect have many of their bodily fluids turned to blood, turning their flesh bloated and crimson. They lose a permanent dot of Appearance, but are no longer subject to bleeding.

Wood

Wood turns into the substance of Bone. Plants become ivory constructs, lifeless and adorned with razor-sharp leaves. Mortals in the area when the spell is cast lose a dot of Dexterity permanently as their flesh partially calcifies, but may apply their full Stamina as a bonus to their lethal soak.

Labyrinth Circle

Ode To Its Procession
Cost: 30 motes

Prior to the casting of this spell, the necromancer must paint over the bared flesh of a human within the hearthroom of an Abyssal Manse. The dyes used are brewed from the ashes of cremated bodies and dust of powdered bones (resources •••, or •• with a Deathlord's connections), and his work is not complete until all skin is overlaid in a slick veneer of black and white, an occult emblem calling to the Primordials that slumber below. Successfully painting the mortal so requires a Intelligence + Occult roll at difficulty 3, where failure means the dyes are wasted.

Having finished preparing the subject, the necromancer intones the ceremonious chant of the spell. With each stanza, another circle of dark Essence coalesces about him, the fifth and last bringing his anima to life where it meets. He need only touch the subject for the necromancy to begin.

The circles disappear with a gasp of dissipating power and the subject screams, sensing that the Void has them. They bleed profusely through the eyes, mouth, fingernails and anywhere else untouched by the Malfean sigils, losing a health level each turn. They go through agonising rictus as flesh and bone are dissolved and sluice bloodily through the gates of the flesh. Their skin collapses loosely where the body beneath is consumed.

What remains afterward is a pool of blood about the victim's heart. The one remaining part of the subject, it is frozen by terror into unfeeling iron and decorated by the sigils that once adorned it's bearer's skin. Slowly, its vessels grow back, with veins of chill metal creeping around furniture, running along nooks in the floor, feeling along the ceiling. Within a week, the entire Manse is within its grasp.

All within its walls hear it, a dull thumping of the heartbeat about the ears, slow and regular. It marks the slow bodily rhythm of the Malfeans themselves as they await their final dissolution, and mortal hearts follow its pulse. Thoughts and feelings count in harmony with the beating, before being drowned out entirely. Within the Manse, the living lose their appreciation of life and their connection to their own emotions, silently awaiting whatever fate they are commanded to. Mortal characters' Willpower is reduced by the necromancer's Essence whilst they are within the Manse, to a minimum of 0. It recovers at a point per night spent outside it. They may not channel Virtues. Even Exalted are unnerved by its effects, requiring two points of temporary Willpower instead of one to channel one of their Virtues.

The spell lasts until Calibration, upon which the heart beats its last and its veins crumble to blood-red rust. Thereafter, the necromancer must acquire a new subject to repeat the spell.

Haze Of Ages Unseen
Cost: 25 motes

This necromantic incantation summons an orb of purest gray, that sighs and drones like a despairing madman. By focusing on the dull sphere, the necromancer is locked into a vision of decay - in the periphery of his view, creatures die and rot away, buildings moulder and crumble, mountains erode and erupt into ashes. At its culmination, the sky and earth are scoured to whirling winds of ash, grinding down ever finer until all is featureless, lifeless gray; the sphere is invisible against this bleak worldscape, and at this the vision fades. Gone, too, is the gray sphere from the eyes of others.

Yet an aura clings to the necromancer, sunken deep within his soul. Disguised from even those that can perceive Essence, it waits, dormant but patient. When a spell is cast against the necromancer or his immediate surrounds, it roars to life. Spells of the First Circle of both disciplines are snuffed out, their energy decaying down to fine gray dust. The ritual is not enough to corrode away more powerful spells altogether, but those of the Second Circle add 3 to the difficulty of any roll by the caster to determine scope of effect, or reduce the difficulty of the roll for the necromancer by a like amount (whichever he chooses). Spells of the Third Circle are completely unaffected. Whichever is the case, the aura is expended in this effort.

A more powerful version of this spell (Void Circle Necromancy) costs 50 motes, and treats incoming spells as though they were a Circle less powerful for the purposes above.

Manacles of Contrition Cost: 25 motes

As this incantation begins, the necromancer designates the subject of his wrath. Moans, screams of pain and anger fill the air; they are the voices of all those the subject has harmed (intentionally or otherwise) in his life. The ground seems to shift and heave beneath their feet; at the culmination of the spell's casting, its rends apart to let a multitude of spectral arms through. These grasp and claw their way up through air and matter alike to wrap their fingers around the subject's heart, clasping tightly and wrenching downward.

As the vision fades, the subject sees the world in a new light - now acutely aware of the pain he has inflicted on others, he seeks nothing more than to prevent it ever happening again. He gains an effective Compassion of 5 for the purposes of determining what actions are viable for him, although he may struggle as much as he wishes against the compulsion put upon him. Note that Abyssals experience their own version of Compassion 5, becoming euthanisers instead.

This spell fails to function on anyone with an Essence higher than the necromancer.

Call The Shrouded Witness
Cost: 25 motes

As this necromantic incantation begins, it summons an ethereal disc of smoked glass about the caster; through its wavering focus, strange blotted landscapes and creatures of indistinct form can be seen. At its culmination, the necromancer steps back - from the mirror steps forth an entity to face her. It is a perfect reflection in profile, though drained of colour and hazy in where its form begins and ends. The necromancer musters herself, and makes a Charisma + Performance roll, adding her Essence in successes - she states what it is that she will do, and why she does it. The entity, for its part, says nothing.

The two step forward once more, and the mirror shatters at their contact. Provided the necromancer performs her stated action for her stated purpose before dawn, she receives bonus successes equal to those rolled on her Performance check. She also, however, botches - whilst her plans will likely succeed, it will have dire consequence for her. The spell's effect is evoked on the first action that fulfills the stated requirements, and is thereafter expended (although it may be cast again).

Void Circle

Predictate of Empty Aspirations
Cost: 25 Motes

Cusping his hands together, the necromancer summons wisps and tendrils of spectral white Essence, streaming into his grasp until their combined brilliance sends streamers of light from every crack and opening in his grip. At the conclusion of casting, he reveals what he holds - a shimmering sphere of purest ivory, a creation of entrancing beauty a hand's width across. It whispers to the necromancer's desired target, beckoning forth their innermost desires; unless they succeed at a Temperance + Willpower roll at a difficulty equal to the necromancer's Essence (and this roll may be voluntarily failed), they will speak of one of their ambitions, hopes or desires. As the words make themselves manifest, the sphere bloats and deforms, peeling open to reveal a writhing mass of glutinous black essence that squirms away in all directions.

The stated dream will become true, although the time and circumstances required are not assured. Further, its realisation will never bring less than tragedy upon the target. The greater the aspiration, the greater the loss that accompanies it; wishing for the love of a man might come about as he perishes and, as a stalking ghost, builds an infatuation with the one that bore fondness for him in life; wishing for death to all Dragon-Blooded may come about as a second manifestation of the Great Contagion, killing all the character held dear in the process.

Saffron Banner of Entropy
Cost 50 motes

This vast enchantment's conception was no trifling matter; as a seedling within the mind of its creator, it spread like a blight within her soul. Her dull-beating heart counted the moments as measure after measure of her mind become committed to this great magic's formulation. Mortals, gods and ghosts alike were slain, the last light in their eyes inspiring her to found and tend vast fields of red crocuses that turned the soil beneath rich with the blood of those who worked to nurture their dull, primal malice. As the rusty sun set across her balcony, it finally came to fruition. This vast work of necromancy holds to the tenet that decline powers the forces of life; those souls that burn brightest burn out fastest. Its use stands testament to that ideal.

To cast this spell, the necromancer must first acquire one of the ruby crocuses used in the spell's conception. Their native habitat is unknown to all but the greatest Underworld sages, although the first enchantress maintains a perilous orchard full of them. This must be planted, alive, into fertile soil under the light of midday sun, and the vast swathes of necromantic energy committed to it in a spectacular display of bloody power. From that moment, it begins to meander and bud across all available surfaces although these secondary blooms are not hazardous like the first. It grows in this fashion until the next midday, spreading a number of miles in each direction equal to the necromancer's permanent Essence; this is the spell's area of effect. During this time, the essence used is committed to the crocus, which will thereafter glow an otherworldly red hue and rise to dim and spiteful intelligence. Severing this flower at any time will prevent the spell from working, and cause the remainder of its kin to wither and shrivel into black coils that resemble wrinkled, grasping hands.

Assuming the spell is not stopped, on the strike of high noon the sun freezes in place; as the day progresses, it ruddies but does not shift its position. At dusk, it unfolds outwards to hang as a brilliant sanguine flower, gently cascading its petals to the world below. The crocuses unfurl to meet it, and their pollen sifts in clouds of luminescent red motes around their area. Thereafter, the sequence of days progresses normally, though marked with the same bloody hue. Moving beyond the spell's area will shatter the image of the sun, which is purely illusory.

Within the spell's limits, mortal creatures are led to believe the sky really is falling; nothing can shake them of the conviction that these days are their last. All but the staunchest and most temperate will set forth to accomplish their fantasies, indulge in bacchanalia, renege on old grudges, or grow mad with fear. Unless they have a Willpower in excess of the necromancer's Essence+Occult, they will fail any Temperance checks they are required to make. The most strong-willed, Exalts and other magical creatures can dispel this notion, but it remains as an awkward intuition; the difficulty of all Temperance checks is instead increased by 1 within the spell's limits. This continues until the crocus is found and slain; the longer it is left to grow, however, the larger (and consequently more prominent) it becomes. It is tantamount to the clarity of the spell's founding principles that despite causing no direct harm, this enchantment can and has shattered entire kingdoms.

Beyond The Mantle Of Flesh
Cost: 40 motes
Range: Personal

Most prized sorcerous possession of the Deathlords, this dark invocation mirrors the words of the Neverborn as they brought the fallen Solar kings and queens into their depthless embrace. The first word spoken, an invocation of Primordial privelige, causes the Calender of Setesh to screech to a halt in its tracks, and for the lands of the dead to freeze under a shroud of icy dark tendrils. Consequently, within the shadowlands or realms of the Underworld, this spell can be cast at instantaneous speed.

The verses that follow are shaped by Essence, unpronouncable by any human tongue. They flicker in the air, forming nonentities of purest Oblivion that curdle the world around them into maddening and distorted shapes; as sutra after sutra is spoken, their grip extends and world darkens until all is black save for the spidery tendrils of light that surround the necromancer, and the dim fires of animas. The last syllable forsakes the afterlife and reincarnation, and the Void embraces the caster. Their anima roars from them, their soul shrieking away with it, pouring out into the infinite darkness until its last traces are no longer visible. The world goes into sudden contrast the Calender lurching back into speed. The necromancer now appears as a black clot amongst his lit surrounds, soon collapsing into black ash, dead.

Within the Labyrinth, deep within the halls of a Malfean's mangled womb, thin traceries of celestial essence reconvene. Stained by the darkness from which they pulled themselves, they form the seed of a new form grown piece by piece from the flesh of the Neverborn. Other a matter of months, the necromancer grows back into unlife, but will bear the scars ever after - with each invocation of this spell, the caster's memories and personality slip away ever further into the Void, leaving only hungry dementia and unthinking destrado.

Hymns And Arias Of The Peanut Gallery

Manacles of Contrition sounds awesome but is it neccessarily necromancy? It sounds actually somewhat similar to the implied but not, I think, explicitly listed Celestial Circle spell which binds Heptagram students from being able to tell anyone else not under the same geas about their Sidereal instructors. Obviously, of course, a similar spell with somewhat less dismal special effects could exist under sorcery. It might be slightly cheaper or more powerful and might well have some other useful side effect (for instance, fading away if the target naturally increases to Compassion 5). -JanVutch

Good question. No, it's not necessarily necromancy, but I thought it nevertheless works fine as necromancy. If you'd like to change the flavour and write up a Celestial Circle variant, do feel free! I'm not sure how far the similarity to the taboo spell runs, though, farther than to any behaviour-limiting spell. Regardless, thanks for the comment...DeathBySurfeit