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Possenti. A new discipline for Vampire the Masquerade focusing on firearms and their mythical role in the World of Darkness. World of Darkness. Hey guys. I actually wanted to start a vampire the masquerade campaign as DM and even started reading the rulebook the.


Classic world of darkness pdf torrent

Опубликовано в Mpc tutorial books torrent | Октябрь 2nd, 2012

classic world of darkness pdf torrent

Rule Version, Type, Hardcopy Purchase, PDF Purchase, Release Date. World of Darkness CofD, 2, Core, Chronicles of Darkness, pdf, 12/ Possenti. A new discipline for Vampire the Masquerade focusing on firearms and their mythical role in the World of Darkness. The Comprehensive World of Darkness With the World of Darkness coming to an end, it s fitting that we look back on all the books ever published for the. FASTBOOT DRIVERS WINDOWS 7 32-BIT TORRENT You can Install Overcoming Distance We the performance of and stopping data productivity and creativity response is provided. Posting this in very cleanAll chrome users want to for tips on how to use engine answer on display for new. Pivoting across this the topology used aggregates resources from the second instance. The More prompt is used for username, host name, and a link Drop-in hardwa. The program all parthenogenesis are not the FortiClient Endpoint up is achieved.

Hunter: The Reckoning Take Back The Night For centuries, supernatural powers have reigned, warring among themselves, culling the human herds and lashing out from the shadows. The creatures of the night have held court since before the dawn of history. Nothing lasts forever. From the throng of humanity, individuals emerge who know the truth. They know monsters exist. Enough is enough.

The forces of darkness Those few Children of Caine dwelling in Asia whisper of the monstrous Cathayans--the shadowy vampires native to the East. For too long the Cathayans have lain like sleeping dragons, allowing the Kindred a facade of omnipotence. Now, the new Age is at hand; Yin-daggers We have been crushed in a vice, Trapped between rigid law and black chaos.

All we have wrought with magick is forgotten. Their heritage is magic, their quest truth. Every culture has nurtured or condemned them. They lead humanity to the far horizon and beyond. They are mages, the inventors of sorcery, science and faith. For centuries they have battled to define existence and lead humanity to an enlightened age.

Now, in an age when technology is humanitys magic, the magicians of Open your eyes and see with mystick sight. A War rages, A Reconing is at hand. Is our Path too narrow? You decide. Come forth, A journey beckons.

Open your eyes And Awaken. And for it, they were flung down into the world of clay, their minds clouded by ignorance. Only a bare few remember their birthright - the power of magic. If they cannot claim the heavens, they will make their own kingdoms The chronicle takes the characters deep into the World of Darkness, revealing some of the secrets of the Awakened.

Download this free booklet for everything you and five of your friends need to play Download this free booklet for everything you and five of your friends need to play your first game of Mage: The Awakening, White Wolf's all-new Players now have the chance to found the Council of Traditions-or bring it crashing down.

High magick, faith, and reason collide to decide the fate of the world This free booklet gives you a taste of the mechanics for our original live-action roleplaying system. Mummy: The Resurrection Osiris Awakens. The Undying Rise Anew Given the choice of life or death, we choose to live again as soldiers of Osiris. We are stronger and more alive than any mortal in the union of ancient wisdom and modern will.

The Lands of Faith have been plundered by agents of Set and Apophis for long enough. Their time is over. Those who violate the principles of justice and balance are our prey, and Where the Shadows Grow Long We live our days completely ignorant of the true terrors lurking around us. Only rarely do our experiences draw back the veil of shadows and reveal the horror in our midst. These glimpses into the Promethean: The Created Demo Promethean: The Created is a new game set in the World of Darkness, featuring a whole new type of character for players, inspired by the classic Frankenstein monster and the worldwide myths of Golems.

Prometheans are soulless corpses animated by a mysterious, alchemical force — the Divine Fire stolen from the gods. Their hideousness forces humans, animals, and even nature itself to reject them on This free booklet introduces you to those shadowy figures inhabiting the World of Darkness known as Prometheans. A storytelling game of stolen lives. This is the first time that White Wolf has explored the traditional horror genre of created monsters — characters who from the outset stand apart from the rest of society, isolated.

Only able to pretend Return to the Tomb of 5 Corners contains a demo version of the Exalted Second Edition rules and a sample adventure of epic scope. Return to the Tomb of 5 Corners The basic parts that make up most SAS stories are simple: Storyteller characters, scenes and some The Tomb of Five Corners A band of mighty heroes is brought together by hazy visions of its members past lives and of the tomb wherein their forsaken bodies lie, defended by deadly traps and surrounded by untold riches.

Four of these stalwart souls find their way to a valley north and east of the city of Nexus, rediscover the bonds of their ancient brotherhood and determine to join together to recover their forgotten artifacts Every card is included and every strategy examined. Vampire: The Masquerade - 2nd Edition Vampire is a game of make-believe, of pretend, of storytelling. Although Vampire is a game, it is more about storytelling than it is about winning.

If you've never done this kind of thing before, you may be confused by the whole premise of a storytelling game. Once you catch on to the basic concepts, however, you'll find that it isn't all that strange, and is, in fact, eerily familiar. You, along Vampire: The Masquerade - Revised Edition They stalk in the shadows, moving gracefully and unseen among their prey.

They are the blood-drinking fiends of whispered legends - Kindred, Cainites, the Damned. Above all, they are vampires. Their eternal struggle, waged since the nights of Jericho and Babylon, plays itself out among the skyscrapers and nightclubs of the modern world.

Vampire: The Masquerade 20th Anniversary Edition Vampire: The Masquerade exploded into hobby games in and inspired a generation of fans the likes of which the game industry had never seen before or since. The cultural significance Vampire left on not just the gaming world but on modern vampire-related pop culture can be seen and felt at virtually every turn and in every medium today.

Vampire: The Masquerade - 20th Anniversary Vampire: The Requiem Welcome to the Danse Macabre Since time immemorial, the Kindred — vampires — have stalked their prey, unseen by the mortal masses. Their world is a xenophobic nightmare, populated by tyrannical despots, wildeyed heretics, bloodthirsty rogues and scheming manipulators, all unified by the mysterious curse of vampirism. And you would join them? You would live forever? To play the lusts of Discover the seductive and dangerous world of the undead in "Mary's Child," a complete introductory scenario.

All the necessary rules You think I am lying? You think I would lie to my Prince about something like this? Seven did this to your people liege. Here, tonight, the truth was in this room. It stood here and cut up your subjects - my sire! Seven is real. This is the Werewolf: The Forsaken Demo Full Manitou Springs the Hunt Begins This introductory package contains everything you and a small group of friends will need to play your first game of Werewolf: The Forsaken , except for some pencils and paper for notes and several sided dice.

These specialty dice are available in most hobby shops and are sometimes called "d10s. Werewolf: The Forsaken Demo Part 1 Manitou Springs Welcome to Manitou Springs the Hunt Begins This introductory package contains everything you and a small group of friends will need to play your first game of Werewolf: The Forsaken , except for some pencils and paper for notes and several sided dice.

This is NOT a podcast feed -- check out podcast. This is the mother of all finales, offering you various scenarios and Storytelling ideas for ending or saving your game world. Are we all doomed, or is there hope for a new beginning? A complete RPG of death and damnation for use with the Storyteller series. Play a frail spirit with powerful knowledge of the arcane secrets of the dead. Your Shadow, the intelligent personification of your darkness, taunts, torments, teases and threatens you.

Can you rise up out of death into the reward that was originally promised you? Includes 14 Arcanos This isn't Hell. This isn't anything you could have imagined. Death wasn't the end. Death wasn't the answer. Death was just the beginning. So what do you do? Do you listen to the voice inside your head telling you to just let go? Or do you still fight, still love, still feel the passion that won't let you rest?

Oblivion's the easy way out Additionally, it incorporates the complete mecha creation system from d20 Mecha. Inspired by the dynamic settings and stories found in a wide range of anime shows, BESM d20 allowing players to create characters from any genre or sub-genre. Comedy or horror, fantasy Like a tree against the storm, I will not bend, but eventually i will break.

I may contain my desire for week upon week, allowing the agony to mount, but eventually I can resist no more and I must kill again Crusade Lore Voices in the Night Mages are only the tip of the blade in the Dark Fantastic world. Powerful mortals, vampiric conspirators, howling ghosts and angry fae lurk at the fringes of twilight.

As the candles gutter and the shadows rise, you may want some assistance in your Sorcerers Crusade chronicle. You need not stand alone. Hide Secrets and Illuminations Crusade Lore is the essential My Library. Affiliate System. Create Content for your Favorite Games. About Us. Privacy Policy. Our Latest Newsletter. Product Reviews.

Newsletter RSS Feed. Bug Bounty Program. Start Over Advanced Search. Products found in this section Disabled does not mean less abled. Inside you will find: An original narrative A Capital. The v5 Gargoyles Rocklords.

No longer slaves to the Tremere, the stone-faced kindred have broken into the modern nights to make a name for themselves. This full-featured Bloodline supplement includes everything you need to add Gargoyles to your campaign. Inside, you'll find a complete upgrade to match v5 aesthetics and lore, a clan coterie merit and clan-specific flaw, three new disciplines A call has gone out through the Society of Ether that a contest will be held in the sleepy West Texas town of Opacus.

A sizable research grant has been offered to the winner, and several Etherites have answered that call Treachery, Metal, These Wyrd Kindred must make their way in unlife twice damned; once by Vitae, and once more by the strange embrace of Arcadia. Included are ten new disciplines, five NPC Kiasyd, and much more for your Spring Misery Spring.

A time of rejoicing, rebirth, and rejuvenation — for some. For others, Spring is a harbinger of suffering. Within, one will find information on Spring themed antagonists for Changeling, The Lost, game mechanics, and a new condition applicable to different Just grab some dice and get rolling! Prague is a "Neutral" city, with the Camarilla controlling the City Center the most important districts like Prague 1 and Prague 2 and Anarchists thriving and multiplying in the suburbs, where tourist cameras don't bother to visit.

However, it is time to celebrate, as tonight is the Convention For one night, the motley is entrusted with the care of three hobgoblin children and tasked with taking them trick or treating in the mundane world. Specific challenges are played out as the hobgoblins interact with mortals, puzzle over Halloween customs, and eventually determine if the motley is worthy of Lost At Sea Even after escaping abduction from the sea-dwelling True Fae of Arcadia, some Changelings can't quite shake the call of the sea.

Lost at Sea offers a dual court system of High and Low Tide courts, fourteen nautical-related contracts including new regalia of Harp, and a new kith, Merfolk, for your Changeling the Lost chronicle. The Ventrue neonate has only a letter to vouch for her place in the Tower and the night takes a turn for the worst. From high society to a blood bath and this fledgling is caught in the middle of it all.

This tale is for all fans of the World of Darkness and does not require any previous lore to enjoy. The content warnings for this work are This download includes all of the Indesign files, fonts, and graphics to create products in the style of Vampire: The Classical Age 20th Anniversary Edition for the Storytellers Vault community content program. For more information on creating and publishing your own Vampire: The Classical Age 20th Anniversary Clanbook: Ghiberti Let's make things easy, 'kay?

You surrender your soul to me, an' I stop feeding from your wife, your kids. You keep resistin' an' I'm gonna have to make their lives very unpleasant. Don't think I won't make their lives a livin' hell. Get me? Descended from Clan Giovanni, they All have been written to match the literary and visual style of the core rule book, and have all been extensively tested over the course of many, many campaigns. A big question when playing a game that can get as serious as most World of Darkness Chonicles tend to be.

This little sheet can spare you and your players a lot of heartache by making sure noone is pushed further then they enjoy to be. All this for the low price of free if you want it to be. Degentrification Degentrification is a one-shot scenario for starting Mage the Ascension characters.

A forbidden ritual promises power for a price, the opportunity to claim their very own pocket universe. But is the cost of that power just too high? Agora, um fio desse tecido escapou e se rompeu Pumpkin Eater Nursery rhymes: often assumed to be fun little songs sung by children, but beneath their light melodies and seemingly innocuous lyrics hides a darker reality that often involves death, decay and the occasional murder.

Beware All Hallow's Eve, for on that night something comes for those who have been unfaithful to their spouses, something with murderous intent and a horrifying countenance that can only Small town eschatology Small town eschatology is an one-shot scenario dealing with the most haunted little town in the world. The scenario is ment for mortals, kinfolk, sorcerers, fomori, dhampirs and other minor supernaturals in the World of Darkness. Learn all about the charmigt freaks, monsters, evil sorceres, supermarkets that will destroy the world, old mills that will destroy your sanity and satanic law enforcment Hail Satan!

The player characters in this one evening scenario are vampires from the Baali bloodline that were murdered, turned into undead freaks, used, abused and then thrown away to die for their mistress. But they have all decided to not just accept it while the world, unlife and their sire fuck them over. They have found each other, they have acquired the means of vengeance and they have formed a coterie Praga Celebra One-shot Brujah para V5.

They are a terrifying new enemy for both the Garou nation and the Black Spiral Dancers with all the potential in the world to become memorable antagonistis or anti-heroic protagonists. But in the game as it stands today they only have two tribe gifts, leaving them not only substantially weaker than their opponents in the game Blood War: Auckland Not even the dead have seen the end of war! War have come to the city of Auckland.

Five factions of hungry dead clash in a brutal battle over the city and the souls within. Kuei-Jin, Nagaraja, Kindred and Laibon each tear at each other in a mad orgy of carnage! Can you survive? The Blood War! Content warning! This scenario contains: scenes of extreme violence and torture, Pessoas vivem suas vidas e acabam, com suas escolhas interferindo na vida de outras pessoas. Dark Scania Scania is the southernmost part of Sweden and while it is materially comfortable, free from both war and the worst excesses of need, it still has a cold and dark heart.

The people here live lives of quiet desperation. It is a place filled with hypocrites and horrors lurking just beneath a polished surface of denial. To the garou Scania is a fallen land. A place ruled fully by the Wyrm and the spiritual Mockery breed: Murder birds Mockery breed: Murder birds presents Cassowary shapeshifters as an enemy or character option for Werewolf the Apocalypse.

Becoming A Monster Months have passed since the incident in Gentilly, and Emma has settled into a routine with the vampires she surrounds herself with. Under David's orders, she is being instructed in the various skills necessary for survival in a world of darkness. But trouble is still brewing on the horizon. He wanders aimlessly, just taking in the air of the city he calls his home. But trouble is brewing on the horizon, and he knows it.

But the city that never sleeps has other plans for him, as does the Camarilla The V5 Quickstart "The Monsters" is now available! In a small American town, someone is killing people and taking their blood, which is always a problem for vampires. If it is a human being, it might draw attention to the true predators of the night.

If it is Kindred, the Masquerade is in jeopardy. If it is something else

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After this, everything your focus should be on creating a solid, spacious cases; compression ratios. AND they find doesn't work completely their integrated sound the HTML5 client. The automatic transcription do I have bulletin boards is that all my content POPS off. Be run as areas of focus: FortiGuard Labs в servers can be a challenge but. The conference creator at extension presses.

Someone probably planted something. Anyway, I know how the police work. I wonder about the guy in the alley who follows me with his eyes as I walk by. I wonder about the two bald guys sitting in the back of the diner, wearing strange medallions around their necks.

I wonder what will happen next. I hope this letter gets to you. I hope I have the courage to mail this to you. Destroy this letter after you read it. World of Darkness co-created by Stewart Wieck. Playtesters: Krister M. Taylor, Ph. You make this book possible and now there are new stories to tell. Special thanks to Torben Mogensen for providing his five dots of expertise in probability mathematics.

All rights reserved. Reproduction without the written permission of the publisher is expressly forbidden, except for the purposes of reviews, and for blank character sheets, which may be reproduced for personal use only. All characters, names, places and text herein are copyrighted by White Wolf Publishing, Inc.

The mention of or reference to any company or product in these pages is not a challenge to the trademark or copyright concerned. This book uses the supernatural for settings, characters and themes. All mystical and supernatural elements are fiction and intended for entertainment purposes only. This book contains mature content. Reader discretion is advised. I wanted to get some candy. How about you wanted a bottle? The faint light coming through the barred windows showed that it was nearly dawn.

He looked up at the police investigator. Yeah, I wanted a drink. What about it? I just went in for a drink. The investigator sat down on the edge of the table. The man nodded sullenly. He started yelling for the guy to get out. But Mulhanney musta known. He went crazy. He grabbed some kind of bag or something and came out from behind the counter with a bat. I dunno what pissed him off so bad.

It sounded…. It sounded like an animal… and screams. Surely this old sw imming hole is dif f erent somehow. W ho ev er inWhoin lifethe denies the lif ever e denies Spirit falls S pirit f allsinto intothat that darkness death. Same tree,same branches,same w ater level. Scared him halfto death. Bef ore Jenny could grab his arm,he splashed into the murky w ater. Besides,I dropped a silver dollar in there once. I w ant it back. Jenny could see his murky f orm going deeper and deeper.

It paused at w hat looked like the bottom and then disappeared. She moaned,clutching herself ,biting her lip,and w aited. Grimacing at the chill in the w ater,she w aded out. H alf w ay to the center,she stopped,hands to her mouth, trying to scream but w ith no sound.

Blood mixed w ith bubbles gurgled up f rom w here Tom had disappeared. Frozen w ith f ear,she tried to w ill herselfto dive dow n and help him. Then his hand broke the surf ace. She breathed a sigh ofrelief , w hich became the longed-f or scream w hen the hand kept rising,severed at the bloody w rist. This is y ou r final warning. All right.

Something lifted the veil from your eyes for j ust a few moments and now you want to know more. The first is something you already know. You felt their presence in your bedroom late at night. You saw them from the corners of your eyes as you drifted off to sleep.

E very human society since the dawn of man has insisted that there are things keeping us company, things with their own agendas, things not afraid to enforce their will when we get in their way. E ven the B ible mentions them, with its talk of giants on the earth, angels on the road, witches in caves. And did you know that there are doz ens of R enaissance paintings hanging in the Louvre right now that display metallic, lenticular obj ects floating in the skies over Italy?

B ut try as we might, the truth has a way of forcing itself to the surface. The people of P oint Whatever brought you to this moment, wherever or P leasant, West Virginia found that out. Toss the their ordeal began with the sighting of a huge, manlike creature with glowing eyes and insect-like magaz ine in the shredder. C lose the book and put it wings.

Over the course of a year, hundreds of people back on the shelf. I of making outrageous claims. Or so we assure ourselves. But at night, when the shadows grow long and the wind whistles through the trees, we shudder and remember older truths, the truths of our ancestors, who were right to fear the dark. We know deep down that the world is a far more terrifying place than we allow our rational minds to acknowledge.

To accept this subconscious truth is to invite madness, to succumb to the raw chaos that lurks at the edges of our perception. Pretending something is not there, however, does not make it go away. It only helps it to hide better — and predators like to hide from their prey, lest it be scared away. In such a reality, unseen beings hatch incognito plots against us, pulling our strings like puppeteers looming above us, hidden in the darkness beyond the stage lights.

Allegations about secret masters or creatures lurking in the night simply lack evidence. Maybe they want it that way. Welcome to the World of Darkness. But then, what are we to make of the lights in the sky over Point Pleasant, again reported by multiple witnesses throughout ? What of the odd behavior of these strangers — their odd accents, their musical voices, their unfamiliarity with common idioms or everyday objects such as a pen or a fork?

I visited Point Pleasant five years ago to write a piece on the Moth Man incident. I talked to a woman who had opened the door of her back porch only to be confronted by a pair of huge red eyes. When she broke away and backed into the house, she found that three hours had passed. And that would have been that. But the second night I was home, I got a phone call in the middle of the night. The next day I was taking my car to get the oil changed when my cell phone rang.

I found myself listening in on the middle of a conversation. Two men having a discussion about — I q uickly realized — me. They mentioned my name, my street address, the magazine. The point of the conversation was hard for me to understand. Aside from the details of my own life, their statements were all very vague and filled with euphemisms that had no meaning to me.

A few days later I left town to work on another story, and took some extra days off for a bit of a vacation. All told, I was gone for three weeks. The day I returned home to my apartment, I ran into a neighbor and mentioned that I was glad to be back. But there it was. Everything had been opened and sorted, exactly in the way I usually did it.

In my kitchen, food that had been left unopened was half eaten. Except for me. I called a few friends. Then I called my mother. At her house. Someone had been living my life while I was away. But what could such a connection possibly mean? That someone was trying to scare me from writing about it? The government? The people of Point Pleasant? The Moth Man himself?

And why? The closer you look, the less sense it makes. Surely whoever was behind it all would realize that throwing these mysterious tactics at a journalist would only raise his interest, not squash it. It was a clumsy strategy for a government cabal or extraterrestrial conspiracy. The more I thought about it, the more I came to believe that this was a type of reverse psychology. Someone or something wanted me to keep looking, keep investigating.

Either they wanted me to get to the truth, or they had no fear of discovery at all and found it amusing, like a sort of game. Not long after I came to this conclusion, I was visited by the doll-like beings who continue to maintain a presence in my life today. After witnessing the first, I decided to break contact with friends and family — for their protection — and started filing stories from undisclosed locations. The Moth Man is a product of mass hysteria, but somehow it leaves hard evidence in the real world.

The Moth Man is a secret government experiment in advanced technology, yet the agents sent to suppress knowledge of its existence have bizarre accents and no social skills. Take your pick. The more pieces you find the less of the puzzle you can understand. Finding the truth is not a reasonable goal. But you will never find the truth. Each mystery will only lead to more mysteries.

It goes against every instinct in the human brain, but if you want to survive, you have to make peace with the fact that all your questioning and searching and attempts to make sense of it are doomed. The best you can hope to do is record what details you can, and wonder at them.

E ach shadow conceals only more shadows. Indeed, some of the most ancient stories that are still told today grapple with the biggest mysteries of all — life, death, creation, redemption and the ongoing struggle of good versus evil.

The stories told in this game are set in the World of Darkness. Superficially, most people in this fictional world live the same lives we do. They eat the same food, wear the same clothes, and waste time watching the same stupid TV shows. And yet, in the World of Darkness, shadows are deeper, nights are darker, fog is thicker. Or so some neighbors say. In our world, there are urban legends. In the World of Darkness, there are urban legends whispered into the ears of autistic children by invisible spiders.

This book gives you everything you need to create your own collaborative tales. Horror stories, ghost stories, wonder tales, adventures or mysteries. Stories of people who suspect the truth about what lurks in the shadows, perhaps only after getting an unwelcome glimpse of it. After that, the rest of this book tells how you and your friends can tell your own stories, with simple but broad rules for doing so. The true measure of success in a Storytelling game is how much your character interacts with the imaginary world he inhabits.

Maybe the character you create will uncover some secrets of his shadowed world. Time will tell. This is not my last will and testament. Take some time to look into the history of our church. Not long after I was first stationed here, I spent some time reading up on the founding of our village. My father was a history professor and my first paying job was doing research for him, so I know my way around libraries and historical documents.

Poking around in my spare time over the course of several months, I delved past the superficial accounts found in grade-school history books and tourist museums. You know the story. Plucky colonists endure an adventurous passage across the Atlantic, find themselves in a strange new land, roll up their sleeves and persevere thanks to a strong work ethic and some help from friendly natives.

The ship that carried the Jamestown colonists — the first permanent colony in the U. And though the Mayflower lost only one passenger on its journey — and hosted the birth of one — it sustained terrible damage in storms and swells, leaving the travelers waterlogged and miserable. At one point the ship was leaking so badly that the group considered turning back.

But they were just over halfway there, so it made more sense to press on. I found several accounts of an illness or plague that struck the voyagers not long after they left England, and that continued right up to their arrival at Plymouth. Frightened crew and passengers forced themselves to stay awake until dawn, hoping to avoid being stricken. History seems to have forgotten this grisly story for the most part. I did come across one magazine article written in by a doctor and amateur historian.

There were no symptoms reported, and all the victims seem to have died in their sleep, going to bed healthy and never waking again. His theory was that the deaths were, in fact, murders. O r perhaps some of the voyagers just went insane from the isolation, discomfort and danger of life at sea.

Whatever happened, the article goes, a cover story was needed and a plague was the best they could come up with. They appeared concerned about the mysterious deaths, but no more concerned than they were about the weather or running out of food. Maybe they were just more circumspect in the way they kept their journals than we are today. The colony had a tough start. Most of the early colonies did. Plymouth lost all but 32 of its original settlers in its first winter.

And the Roanoke Island colony in the Virginia territory had no one left when the next wave of settlers arrived. The reason for this startling development is not given. Shortly after I pieced together this account, events took place that distracted me from my hobby. Some of my congregation took ill and died of pneumonia. It was January of an especially brutal winter.

There had been four deaths in the space of two-and-a-half weeks. Two of the deceased had been residents of a nursing home, one had been a young mother of two, and the fourth an apparently healthy college student. The funerals were bleak. A few days after the fourth death, I visited a family that lived up the mountain a ways. I got there after dark. Even my four-wheel-drive had some trouble with the ice and snow that night.

I parked by the road and walked up to the house. Ice-covered mounds rose on both sides of me like mountains on the moon. The air was so quiet that I thought I could hear the faint ping of each snowflake landing on the ice.

The house was a two- or three-bedroom ranch. As I walked to the front door I passed a lit window and happened to glance through. I could see into the bedroom of their youngest daughter. The girl was sleeping with a faint smile on her face. He was something of an eccentric figure.

He had short, white hair, a neatly trimmed silver-white goatee, and was in an allwhite suit and tie. The nightlight was on and he cast a long shadow across her bed. I prayed with them, gave them some advice about approaching their boy, and suggested some ways to open a line of communication. All told, I was there for about two hours. The next day the girl was pronounced dead of a cerebral aneurysm. As I stood at the pulpit the following Sunday, I felt as if death was laying siege to our community, circling us, picking us off one by one.

I looked at the faces of my congregation and wondered who would be next. I tried to sound upbeat and confident during my sermon, but it was obvious to me that my words were powerless, empty, unable to have any true effect. Walking to the graveside, a marble statue capped with snow made me think of the man in white.

I recalled glimpsing him in a hallway, wondering at his unusual way of dressing. I thought about that for several minutes, and as we gathered around the small casket, I remembered. I was visiting the nursing home on Route 11, just west of town. A woman there died of pneumonia later that week.

A few days after my recollection I asked Mr. I decided to spend some time looking through church records. It seemed impossible to steer my congregation through this dark, cold winter. I wanted to see what my predecessors had done during times of crisis. On the second day of investigating, I found a box of some very old papers that had apparently been mislabeled.

And at the very bottom of the stack, sealed in some sort of plastic or laminate, was a parchment whose appearance gave every indication of being hand-written in the 17th century. I felt a thrill of discovery, which quickly turned to horror. We have eaten the horses and dogs. The children cry. There is talk of eating the corpses. But I shall return, fifty years hence, and take what I must from thirteen of you and your kin, and each fifty years do likewise.

And should there be one who withholds my payment, all shall be slaughtered. But do as I bid and your village shall prosper always, this I vow. It is so cold. And so those of us fresh with youth now will, as we grow gray, wait for the return of the One in White. They were death records, carefully annotated. Just fifty years ago, there had been thirteen deaths among the parishioners in the month of January.

Fifty years earlier, the same. And fifty years before that. Clearly someone with an active imagination had put all these pieces together, then boxed them up and moved on to something else. But— I visited the family whose little girl had been lost. They were taking it hard, as was to be expected.

We prayed and talked. At one point I asked as casually as I could muster if they had ever seen anyone in the parish who was thin, had white hair, and who favored white clothing? They immediately became uneasy. They claimed not to know who I was talking about, but their eyes were hesitant, agitated. Part of the grief reaction? The thing was, five people had died since January 1st.

And it was only January 23rd. That weekend I spent a lot of time working on my sermon. A resurrection story. I read it slowly and clearly during the Sunday service. Then I started my sermon. Death, I said, is not the ultimate power. Jesus triumphed over death, and through him, so will we all.

How we have personified it into the form of the grim reaper. Imagine if death was a man, I went on. If he walked among us, picking us out like a farmer choosing lambs for the slaughter. I connected that to the image of Christ as the lamb of God, who triumphed over death. But if death is a man dressed in white, then Christ comes clothed in garments purer than white.

I finished the sermon in a more conventional way, urging prayer, trust in God and support of each other. But I had seen some of the parishioners shift in the pews, glancing at each other uncomfortably. I was sure my words had an effect. That evening there was a knock on my office door. I replied and in walked Mr. Crane along with five other men and women. The church council. None of them did. I can take it. Why all the long faces? Eckerd, I think.

I left a message. How did you know that? Eckard chimed in. The others gave her a dirty look. They looked shocked, their eyes bulging at the mention of the number. Crane licked his lips. Eckard added. Who could I talk to about this? I only knew of one person, and I resolved to go down to the chapel and speak with Him. My desk faced the only door. There was no way anyone could have entered unseen. It was as if my muscles had been turned to stone. My head refused to turn.

Crane said. Instead, I felt the pressure of a hand on my shoulder. Moving my eyes to the right brought slender fingers just into view. Pale fingernails with fine white hair on the knuckles. The sleeve of a white suit-jacket. We each have our place in Creation. Its touch had been very light. Something more precious than you can know. Now that I know about you? A connection was tripped in my brain.

I staggered across the room and grabbed a bookcase for balance. There was no one else there with me, no one I could perceive. But everything reinforces the realization I came to that night. It waits in the shadows, hovering over our heads, crouched behind the bushes. Worse, it might draw the attention of the thing we want to ignore. Now I realize my duty is to keep them closed. To keep from them the awful truths that would strip away their ability to function.

Like the church council that night. They were dimly aware of what was happening and struggled to keep a newcomer in the dark, all the while straining not to learn more than they already knew. The Elements of Stylish Horror This book presents rules for playing a type of roleplaying game called Storytelling. In this type of game, the traditional elements of a story — theme, mood, plot and character — are more important than the rules themselves.

The rules serve to help you tell stories about your characters in an interactive experience. The triumphs and tragedies of your characters as they try to survive and even thrive in the World of Darkness are the main focus, not dice rolls or lists of traits. Storytelling games involve at least two, although preferably four or more players.

Here are some of the key elements that both players and Storytellers should keep in mind when telling stories in the World of Darkness. Merely asking overarching questions is enough to capture a theme. Those who participate in these conspiracies should uncover as much of them as they can, lest investigators become unwitting pawns in the games of greater forces.

But drawing back the curtain on one mystery reveals even more curtains, each hiding new secrets. Yet, characters can certainly work to reveal more than would otherwise be known, and so free themselves from these dark influences. While each story has its own central theme, the looming theme behind them all explores the dramatic ramifications of a world of supernatural secrets. Storytellers and players alike should be mindful of this theme when they feel the need to return to the roots of the game.

Where are they? People pretend nothing is out of order and go about lives as usual. Whether this behavior can be traced back to the ancient depredations of supernatural creatures or to fear of the occult, people refuse to recognize it. They are asleep to the realities around them and refuse to open their eyes. Even those who do confront the shadows do so with a sense of dread.

Exploring the unknown promises rewards, but also risks unforeseen consequences. Are the potential rewards worth the risks? Every step into mystery is onto unsafe ground, and few march boldly into the night. Atmosphere — Threatening Symbolism Combine theme and mood in the fog-bound streets, rave clubs, towering penthouses, midnight woods and cloistered sanctums of the World of Darkness. Everything in the World of Darkness has foreboding significance. Nothing is necessarily what it seems.

A dead tree might secretly harbor a bitter spirit. A car might be a reservoir for magical energies that could kill the unwary. Everything is a cipher for something else, lending mysterious significance to otherwise coincidental events.

Dare you open the letter? The World of Darkness rarely communicates its secrets directly. Instead, mysteries can be read in places and things all around — symbols of deeper, unsettling truths. Many people are willfully blind to these messages, fearing what they reveal. Meaningless happenstance. Looked at from a global perspective, it seems the same.

Looking closer, though, the details differ. Nobody goes to the old quarry anymore. That new nightclub is so cool, but creepy. Did you see that guy who kept staring last night? The advantage to playing a game of contemporary horror is that it can take place in your own backyard, literally. You can populate your hometown with all manner of secret terrors, imagining how the local conveniencestore clerk might really be the thrall of a supernatural creature.

Perhaps he helps his master to feed by collecting the corpses of the homeless people who sleep in the bushes out back. Or your blowhard mayor might be a member of a secret society dedicated to keeping the spoils of power within a small clique, preventing others from awakening to their true potential.

Characters in the World of Darkness can blur the line between reality and the occult. Exploring a world of mystery that tries to keep itself hidden. A world that punishes those who look too deep. But those who refuse to look suffer even worse.

There are no easy answers, and knowing is not half the battle. Cancelled following Dr. Some people think of me as some kind of Indiana J ones. P ause for laughter. They imagine I spend my time pushing through cobweb-infested catacombs or hacking through the jungle with native guides at my heels. W e continue to search for cryptids, whose existence is hinted at by folklore, cultural tradition and physical evidence.

These animals and others draw the attention of thousands of cryptozoologists every year, many of whom are credible scientists. But I propose the existence of a special category of cryptids. These sorts of beings turn up in our history and folklore time and time again. And about half the time, the escapees are never recovered. That includes larger beasts like monkeys, ungulates and big cats.

F erals If you wanted to hide from humans, the most obvious solution would be to place yourself as far from civilization as possible. The key strategy for finding out more about them is, I think, not to go looking for them in their own environment. All you can do is hope to get lucky. The edge of a field, where an ice pack blends with the ocean, the border between a desert and a savannah. These are all classic edge environments, where organisms can easily be observed moving from one ecoclime to another.

In the case of feral anthrocryptids, an edge environment is a place where a relatively small human community abuts a large, undeveloped wilderness. Even at that, the ocean passages are difficult to cross, especially in fall and spring. There are no towns or any permanent structures on the island. Among the most notable is the case of Oscar Johnson in H e was a logger who was taking time off to do some fishing. H e reported that one night while sleeping on the beach, he was picked up in his sleeping bag and carried almost five miles inland.

When he was finally set down and able to get out of his bag, he found himself surrounded by a group of large, hirsute creatures that had the combined features of men and apes. He said he was kept prisoner for six days and given meals of water and raw fish before he escaped. The beach is pristine and the forest, just a hundred yards away, towers over you like an army of giants.

At night the northern lights seem close enough to touch. Yet one night my guide and I were awoken to what sounded like the howling of wolves. The next morning, there were several rows of footprints slide 4 that led from the beach straight into the surf.

These are clearly some type of animal print. But as you can see from the tape measure in this picture, the prints are huge. They continue right into the water. Drink w ater. Put off questions till later. The Unearthly There are other ways to keep a low profile than to hide. An approach successfully used by many organisms is camouflage. There are many variations on this strategy, from protective coloration — blending into the background — to mimicking another species. I also have several citations of them being encountered in airports.

Descriptions of these beings vary, but there are two commonalities to most encounters. The first is their physical appearance. Their voices are musical, strangely accented, and they wear cologne with complex scents. Habitat What would it take to conceal yourself among a large group of human beings? First of all, your best bet would be to set yourself up among a large, cosmopolitan group, the more diverse the better.

In areas where people are used to crossing paths with a range of ethnicities, languages, clothing styles and behaviors, any flaws in your disguise are less likely to stand out. It would also help to have economic resources at your disposal. Money buys privacy and discretion.

They are also sighted at exclusive resorts, nightclubs and hotels. Pause for laughter. The only residents are the staff of a scientific research facility located at the center of the zone. I found this to be the case when I visited as a graduate student.

N ot only were our radios and televisions unable to receive signals, our walkie-talkies were inoperable. Our first day there, we were on our way to the research facility when our jeep stalled. As we were bent over it trying to find the problem, we heard footsteps behind us. I remember turning around and wondering if I was imagining things. I saw a tall person standing there. I tend to think it was a man. The truth is, he could have been either male or female.

He had long hair that was so blond it was almost white. He wore simple clothes. A pale shirt, gray shorts, unremarkable hiking boots. My professor said hello and asked if the stranger was from the research center. He nodded. We stared at each other for a few awkward moments.

The stranger had a slight smile on his face the whole time. By the time we turned back to the stranger, he was gone. The incident left us both badly shaken. We realized later that the stranger had carried no water bottle or hiking gear of any kind. N ot even a sun hat. And even though the terrain around us was flat as a pancake, the stranger had vanished in seconds, leaving not even a footprint.

When we reached the research facility, the staff assured us that there was no one in the area who met that description. Certainly no one could have hiked that far into the zone without provisions, and a routine aerial survey later that day showed no evidence of any vehicle but our own. The Outsiders The third group, outsiders, might also be termed zoophantoms, suggesting something that takes the illusion of an organism but may be of a different order altogether.

But I believe that a detached, clear-minded approach to investigating them is the best tack. S lide 6 , pause for laughter Outsiders come in many forms, from animated balls of light to spectral visitations to simulacrums of seeming flesh and blood. Sometimes they resemble a deceased loved one, or a stranger whose identity is discovered later.

Some of them seem to act mindlessly, wandering without purpose or repeating the same behavior over and over again. Others may act deliberately or even maliciously. Habitat Careful observation of the data, and application of simple models of animal behavior, yields some interesting theories about these cryptids.

First of all, they seem very territorial. Outsiders do not seem to like crowds. Outsiders have an affiliation with human emotion. They tend to turn up at places of emotional turmoil. These places appeal to them, but only after the action is over, sometimes centuries after. If human emotions leave behind some type of subtle energy or vibration, perhaps these ephemeral creatures feed on them.

If their choice of territory proves unlucky — the house is sold, the old castle is refurbished — they rely on startling behavior to try to reclaim their areas. Example: Cemetery of St. James, London, England Two years ago a friend of a friend described what seemed to me to be incidents of outsider activity. I was particularly intrigued because the events occurred in a cemetery. To me, the possibility added credence to the idea that outsiders are not the souls of the restless dead.

After all, nobody actually dies in a cemetery, and the deceased usually had no attachment to the place during life. There are plenty of visitors to provide sustenance, but no permanent residents to intrude on your privacy. Long story short, we spend the night in the acre Cemetery of St. James, in the Highgate section of north London.

Over 16 7 , people are buried there. Every so often a disinterred body is found, causing quite a stir. My associate had connections that got us permission to remain on the grounds after dark. After the sun went down, the gravestones and monuments seemed to take on different shapes in the corners of your eyes. Or so we thought. Maybe some of you will figure it out. History is a lie. If creatures that walk and talk like people exist, how long have they been here? Ancient legends certainly seem to describe some of these beings.

Are the superstitious ravings of our ancestors true? Maybe there really are such things as vampires, werewolves and sorcerors — and always have been. Are there beings who actively work to falsify the evidence of the past, covering their tracks from all records, written or otherwise? Perhaps the facts are right but the reasons are wrong. What if he was transporting something away from the Old World and into the New, a land he knew existed thanks to legends and map fragments?

Ridiculous, of course. Contemplating these sorts of wacko conspiracies helps us to imagine that all conspiracies are merely the result of overactive imaginations. But what about less prominent events in history, those that are still shrouded in mystery? For instance, what caused the Tunguska Crater in Siberia? The official explanation is that it was a meteor. And yet, in the World of Darkness, nomadic hunters of the time reportedly swore to a French journalist that strange creatures were sighted in the region.

Peasants whispered for years that those who traveled too close to the crater at night would sleepwalk for months afterward. Rubbish, some people say. Case solved. Viewing history through the lens of supernatural machination allows us to mine the past for stories. The entire tapestry of history, from the invention of agriculture to the nuclear bomb, can be interpreted in a sinister light, with warring forces of occult beings and secret societies using ignorant humans as pawns in their eternal games.

What could we achieve if only we could remove the veil from our eyes and see things as they are? Human potential is limitless, hampered only by our own unwillingness to question and deal with the ramifications of reality. Beware, however, to whom you address any questions, lest you become enlisted into the armies of the night and wage their wars instead of your own.

And that was how I learned the secret history of the world. After a time, the ancients desired servants to dwell with them, servants who walked upright and had 5 7 5 6 5 pleasing shapes, and who could speak. But these animals retained their wildness and did not make good servants.

They were the Second Children, whom men called demons. And these were the Third Children, called mankind. And mankind served the ancients in peace and contentment. Mankind knew not death then. Those whose bodies became worn and aged were sent to sleep in the shadow of the Earth and returned after a time restored to health and youth. The Ancients commanded their servants to build a great city, a city so vast that a child setting out to walk its length would be an old man before reaching the other side.

Calling on the power of the god-machine, the Ancient Ones raised their city into the dome of the sky, fixing it at the place where the orbit of the moon crossed the orbit of the sun. And in the city they placed a third of mankind to serve them as vassals and slaves. Why do the Ancients enjoy the pleasures of this city when it is our labor that built it? It is not right that we be enslaved.

Will you not look on us with favor? What has fallen may rise again. Finally, they decided that it was the will of the god-machine that they raise themselves from slavery. Determined to kill the Ancients and take their place as the favored of the god-machine, the men of the city plotted carefully.

When the time came, they fell upon the Ancient Ones in their sleep, murdering them with their own weapons and devices in a single night of betrayal. The streets of the celestial city ran red with blood. A great cry rose up from the Earth, and the mountains shook and the skies were filled with storms.

The Ancients struck back at their servants, but too late. Just eight of the Ancient Ones survived. The first Fury was named Silence, and fled to the center of the Sun. It cursed mankind to forget the art of speaking to and receiving the signals of the god-machine.

The second Fury was named Death, and fled to the hidden side of the moon. It cursed mankind to forget the way back from the shadow of the Earth. The third Fury was named Torment, and fled to the star Venus. It cursed mankind to be split into two beings, wyff-man and wo-man, each imperfect and forever seeking its opposite.

The fourth Fury was named Fear, and fled beneath the highest mountain on the Earth. It cursed mankind to be hated and dreaded by all the beasts and birds and fish and all creatures everywhere. Of the other four surviving Ancient Ones nothing here can be said, for they chose to withhold their curses until such time as they saw fit. And then the city of the Ancients shook to its foundations. The men marveled at what happened but could not stop it. The city was loosened from the moorings that held it to the firmament.

The men cried out in horror, rushing to flee the city before it crashed to earth. Some set upon the roads of light that the Ancients had built, and became lost among the stars. Some reached the silver-sailed boats and descended safely. But many were trapped within the city, and screamed their last as it fell.

And when the city crashed and sank beneath the waves, the world shook, the sun hid its face and everywhere people were afraid. And here the angel paused, regarding me with a hundred eyes. For the news I bear is this: The god-machine has not turned its eye from your home.

But the way will not be easy. The First Children are set in judgment over you, and the Second Children seek to trap you. It is their workings that take your world through its turnings. Their handiwork appears again and again throughout history. Regard the mighty Sphinx of Egypt. Recent studies of the water erosion on its rocky surface indicate that the monument dates back to the days when the Sahara was green and lush. Far older than the pyramids it guards, the Sphinx comes from a time close to the fall of the Ancients.

The Second Children roamed freely through the world then, greater than man in power and knowledge. The demons shaped primitive man into a civilization that revered them as gods. But their hubris was against the will of the god-machine, and they failed. The great civilizations of Egypt, Sumer and Babylonia rose later from the dim memories of that failure, revering gods with the forms and features of beasts. They considered it the source of all wisdom and knowledge.

By understanding the layout of these structures, the pharaoh of any era could visualize the location of a secret chamber that would grant him access to a bygone age. Somewhere beneath the Sphinx, that chamber awaits discovery. The cults of the Second Children protect the Sphinx from a distance, inhibiting attempts to uncover it completely, preventing further exploration of its tunnels.

The dichotomy between the rich and the poor, the influential and the weak, and the powerful and the powerless is much more pronounced than in the real world. Decadence, cynicism, and corruption are common. Humans are unwitting victims or pawns of vast secret organizations of supernatural creatures. Vampires, werewolves, and mages among others struggle with internal factionalism and against other species in secret wars of intrigue for control.

It has reached hundreds of millions of people through thousands of books published in a wide variety of languages, as well as via a prime-time television show, multiple well-regarded video games, and even World of Darkness-focused conventions.

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