Shallows/EotWCutOne
For Quick reference:
Here is the Foundation page for The End of the World.
Here is the Introduction.
Here are links to the Characters.
Here are the House Rules.
Here are links to the Missions, as they are made available to the players.
Here you will find the additional elements about the version of Creation that The End of the world is played in. I call it Player Notes.
Here you will find the current disposition of the Sidereal Shards for this game.
Here are links to the Storyteller notes. (Players please refrain from visiting here.)
The house was certainly not a simple cottage like those of the local peasants, yet it was not a powerful manse or great estate either. Surrounded by a copse of trees out in the midst of the Pangu prefecture, it made a quiet peaceful picture amidst the great farmlands of the Blessed Isle. It was a small country estate. Typical of those held by unexalted patricians, or sorcerers, or the more infamous members of a House. This modest house was well made and bore the Mon of House Tepet.
Inside the home there were only a pair of servants. There was a simple man who cared for the landscape and mended small items under the watchful gaze of the steward. The steward was a tall woman with thick luxurious black hair that she wore in a series of fine braids, everything about her was well made and fine. Save that she lacked a voice.
This evening there were few lights about the home. The local of the estate made such an unnoticed occurance. This evening there was more going on in the catacombs beneath the house than above. In fact beneath the home there ran a series of channels and chambers, which all created a great geomantic mandala focusing the power of one of the most powerful earth manses on the Blessed Isle.
The candles flickered across the room, their light rubbing across the scarlet of the tapestries that allowed the room to be secreted from the rest of the chambers. There were a vast number of candles throughout the place. Most had been burning for some time, the wax pooling at the base of the candles. The flames dancing gentle on the wicks.
There were five candles placed upon the floor at regular intervals. Within their circle sat a tall thin man. A gentle breeze blew softly through his long white hair and across his body, a breeze representing the power of his magical nature, as no such current of air would be found so far underground. He sat naked, and as his left hand drew out, essence flowed from his body, causing a series of ancient hidden runes to begin to softly glow forming the path between the candles. The symbols flowed from a sickly green to a blazing deep scarlet. Their shape and form screamed against the sanity of creation. They called forth for the old ones, the creators of the world.
Traditional sorcerers would follow such by drawing back the curtain between the realities of Creation and the Endless Desert, from the tear there would undoubtedly appear a demon of the first circle. The traditional wisdom of modern occultism suggests that these demons actually begin their journey five days before. Regardless, had this been the case, the sorcerer would be outside the circle and drawing the demon in.
The man within the circle had been alive for more than two centuries. Yet although many Dragonbloods would be fortunate to see a further century, this particular Dragonblood was no longer concerned with such things. In fact, he had given up such considerations long ago, far before he had made the decision to sacrifice his soul for the future of his House.
With a rush of wind about the room all of the candles flared and went out. All save the five within the circle. Then those five too flared like tiny bonfires. Yet their light was nothing in comparison to the light of the rune circle. Then as suddenly, both the runes and the candle’s light went out, leaving the room empty save for many piles of melted wax, and the slight sound of a name screamed in agony… Adorjan.
