Cornuthaum
Be kind to each other.
- Location
- Austria
- Pronouns
- He/Him
why do you insist on hurting Manus like this
Render Unto Moloch (M:tAw)
- Location
- London, England
You are entirely underestimating the nature of the threat posed by those 'Orwellians' if you think the Knights of St George operate on anything approaching the same level.
London, and Britain as a whole, is a land of surveillance. Orwell lived and died in North London, and last I checked there thirty two different CCTV cameras within 200 yards of his flat. As of 2007, one in five surveillance cameras in the entire world could be found in my nation; there is one camera in the UK for every 14 people, and the average British person is caught on CCTV over three hundred times a day.
A Mage who takes a minimal investment in Forces can remotely read, edit and delete the information stored on those cameras. They can do the same to literally any computer or machine.
The Knights of St George are not a threat, because the Knights of St George will never, ever find you.
Ave Anathema
Ave Imperator
- Location
- Jacksonville Illinois
Thank you for removing the insult
Those knights worship and are slowly freeing an ABYSSAL the dudes who eat REALITY
Sorry I'm mostly aware of the new world of darkness which is gruesome ,everything sucks unless you're an aincient super being and you will more then likely die in horrible horrible ways and everyone is mostly trying not to die(though the last one is mostly humans in this setting.)
@Maugan Ra I am aware of how scary they are but I though they usually didn't send the personal agents unless you Really piss them off and just orchestrated cats paws like I already said division six(for the u.s) and whatever they use to kill wizards in the u.k
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TenfoldShields
Lounging on a Hoard of Words
- Pronouns
- He/Him
oh no too fucking real, never been to law school but god i've been here in university
Tenfold: "Maybe I should take a break, get some coffee and let my brain rest. How much have I got done already?"
Tenfold: "Oh I just re-arranged tabs for twenty minutes and wrote five lines of an intro."
Tenfold: "Time for coffee and a pastry then!"
*hellish shrieking as the doors grind open*
James: "...wait why did the music change?"
[X] A Zoo; you walk between exhibits and around the edge of great enclosures, studying and being studied in turn. Here a horde of rats dig a warren in broken stone, there a flight of pigeons wheel back and forth between a hundred wooden aviaries. There are people all around you, cooing and laughing over the antics of those they came to observe, but they cannot see what you can. The horizon has sprouted bars, and from beyond giants with eyes of fire watch you with an inquisitive gaze.
Because the Shadow is, as a general rule, cool as hell and provides ready fodder for interacting with/learning from our environment (nWoD spirits are some of my favorite things, ngl, for reference they're basically embodiments of everything in the world with their own ecosystems based on abstraction and shit. So, fr'ex, the spirit of a big box store is a weird capitalist anglerfish, the spirit of a powerplant is a greedy king who bestows electricity upon the members of his court, cameras are voyeurs and gossips who can be bribed to tell you what they saw, shit like that). Beyond that the Shadow in London is all kinds of fucked up and I love me some Silent Hill shenanigans.
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- Location
- Denmark
- Pronouns
- She/Her
My dude, I am literally the other QM of this quest.
So I'm going to be blunt with you here.
You are wrong. Stop being wrong.
Ave Anathema
Ave Imperator
- Location
- Jacksonville Illinois
I have an apology I was unaware the quest had more then about I also have a question if the quest is not new world of darkness then why is there a tag for it, I am legitimatly curious about that.
- Location
- Denmark
- Pronouns
- She/Her
It is New World of Darkness, but you are wrong about New World of Darkness. You are referring to Old World of Darkness; this was a reaction to that, removing the ancient superbeings and putting the focus where it belongs.
The focus is on the streets with secret names, not on the ancient archmasters that can't even interfere.
- Location
- The United States
- Pronouns
- He/They
Another argument for Church besides CCTV is that in the other active MtAW quest right now SV plays a really Obrimosy Mastigos.
It would be interesting counterpoint to play a really Mastigosy Obrimos.
It would be interesting counterpoint to play a really Mastigosy Obrimos.
Ave Anathema
Ave Imperator
- Location
- Jacksonville Illinois
Yo
Not trying to be argumentative or start anything just restating what I know about the new world which is probably one of the most frightening universes to live in.
You mean the new world with the masquerade, the Charon group which is all sorts of effed up, the scared mutants who escaped from mad scientists and/or other stuff(which in and of itself really scary to think of) Vampires killing and not getting busted. Hunters going crazy and becoming archetypal monsters called slashers and non slasher hunters called the ashwood Abbey who could do a pretty good job as a slaneeshi cult doing unspeakable things to all sorts of beings. The demons capable of erasing someone from existence and the aforementioned new world Hunter compact the knights of saint George who worship an abbysal which feeds them power. And that's not counting the seers of the throne who are fed power by the creatures that should not be
Not trying to be argumentative or start anything just restating what I know about the new world which is probably one of the most frightening universes to live in.
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TenfoldShields
Lounging on a Hoard of Words
- Pronouns
- He/Him
The thing is though that nWod consciously doesn't have a metaplot, at least not one in the vein of oWoD which tries to pretend (badly) that all the other splats exist to some degree. nWoD is much more like, idk, a LEGO set or a sandbox. It's very streetlevel/city oriented (in that it largely assumes you're sticking to one city over the course of your stories and cultivating resources and assets and connections and enemies there, heavily investing yourself in the location essentially) and you can snap shit in or out as it suits you without much trouble. The Knights of St. George are cool and I like them a lot, werewolves are cool and would be a lot of fun for a Thrysus to interact with, but they also straight up might not exist in this quest. Cheiron Group might not, Changelings probably won't, vampires might not, (and god I hope Demons aren't).
It's entirely at the discretion of the Storyteller (or in this case the QM) what even exists in the world. And since there's no assumption of crossover shit can be dropped in or removed pretty painlessly. So assuming that all these antagonists even exist, much less exist on a really obvious scale and scope is kinda...like you're working yourself up into a panic for no real reason basically.
Relax. Mage has enough fucked up things all on its own.
Intruders bby.
Intruders.
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- Location
- The United States
- Pronouns
- He/They
The thing about scary hunter groups is that you mostly run afoul of them when doing antagonist shit.
As long as we're not ripping souls out and leaving a trail of brain dead victims doctors can't figure out I wouldn't worry about whatever the UK's Vanguard equivalent is.
There are some exceptions, but usually we'd be choosing to pick the fights, like if we tried to loot a supernal ruin that Aegis Kai Doru had their eyes on.
Except in the most paranoia laced setting, there aren't suits walking through apartment buildings with wizard detectors.
Well now I've doomed us to an MI-X agent finding us with a wizard detector.
DevilsAdvocate
Always follow the golden rule.
[X] A Stage; beyond it, a theatre long since abandoned. Velvet seats stand in long rows, encrusted with webs, dust lies in piles inches thick. Chains of silver and gold hang from your wrists and coil around your neck, and overhead old floodlights halo you in burning light. Your audience is old and emaciated, clad in finery several centuries out of date, and they stare at you with hollow eyes.
[X] A Museum; you are a guest here, wandering starstruck through halls lined with portraits and plaques. A hall of statues is being renovated while you watch, each stone form replaced by one a tiny bit older, a tiny bit less refined. You can see the originals, you know, held for posterity in the archive, but that means asking the curator for permission, and his skinless face and cloak of grey discomfort you in a way you cannot quite explain.
[X] A Museum; you are a guest here, wandering starstruck through halls lined with portraits and plaques. A hall of statues is being renovated while you watch, each stone form replaced by one a tiny bit older, a tiny bit less refined. You can see the originals, you know, held for posterity in the archive, but that means asking the curator for permission, and his skinless face and cloak of grey discomfort you in a way you cannot quite explain.
- Location
- Spain
Look, we will probably attract our very own incomprehensible horror from the gap or unreality way before we met any knight.
We just have to overcast a few spells.
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- Location
- United States
[X] A Zoo; you walk between exhibits and around the edge of great enclosures, studying and being studied in turn. Here a horde of rats dig a warren in broken stone, there a flight of pigeons wheel back and forth between a hundred wooden aviaries. There are people all around you, cooing and laughing over the antics of those they came to observe, but they cannot see what you can. The horizon has sprouted bars, and from beyond giants with eyes of fire watch you with an inquisitive gaze.
[X] A Church; there is a priest and congregation, of course, but they are made of wax and wood. True faith left this place behind years ago, and now only the light remains. It streams down from on high, broken and repainted by windows of stained glass that stretch almost to the ceiling, and under its touch you could almost fool yourself into thinking the withered mannequins are strong and vital once again.
[X] A Church; there is a priest and congregation, of course, but they are made of wax and wood. True faith left this place behind years ago, and now only the light remains. It streams down from on high, broken and repainted by windows of stained glass that stretch almost to the ceiling, and under its touch you could almost fool yourself into thinking the withered mannequins are strong and vital once again.
[X] A Stage; beyond it, a theatre long since abandoned. Velvet seats stand in long rows, encrusted with webs, dust lies in piles inches thick. Chains of silver and gold hang from your wrists and coil around your neck, and overhead old floodlights halo you in burning light. Your audience is old and emaciated, clad in finery several centuries out of date, and they stare at you with hollow eyes.
[X] A Zoo; you walk between exhibits and around the edge of great enclosures, studying and being studied in turn. Here a horde of rats dig a warren in broken stone, there a flight of pigeons wheel back and forth between a hundred wooden aviaries. There are people all around you, cooing and laughing over the antics of those they came to observe, but they cannot see what you can. The horizon has sprouted bars, and from beyond giants with eyes of fire watch you with an inquisitive gaze.
[X] A Zoo; you walk between exhibits and around the edge of great enclosures, studying and being studied in turn. Here a horde of rats dig a warren in broken stone, there a flight of pigeons wheel back and forth between a hundred wooden aviaries. There are people all around you, cooing and laughing over the antics of those they came to observe, but they cannot see what you can. The horizon has sprouted bars, and from beyond giants with eyes of fire watch you with an inquisitive gaze.
[X] A Zoo; you walk between exhibits and around the edge of great enclosures, studying and being studied in turn. Here a horde of rats dig a warren in broken stone, there a flight of pigeons wheel back and forth between a hundred wooden aviaries. There are people all around you, cooing and laughing over the antics of those they came to observe, but they cannot see what you can. The horizon has sprouted bars, and from beyond giants with eyes of fire watch you with an inquisitive gaze.
[X] A Church; there is a priest and congregation, of course, but they are made of wax and wood. True faith left this place behind years ago, and now only the light remains. It streams down from on high, broken and repainted by windows of stained glass that stretch almost to the ceiling, and under its touch you could almost fool yourself into thinking the withered mannequins are strong and vital once again.
[X] A Church; there is a priest and congregation, of course, but they are made of wax and wood. True faith left this place behind years ago, and now only the light remains. It streams down from on high, broken and repainted by windows of stained glass that stretch almost to the ceiling, and under its touch you could almost fool yourself into thinking the withered mannequins are strong and vital once again.
Ave Anathema
Ave Imperator
- Location
- Jacksonville Illinois
I just read about the archmages and I am officially scared crapless at the sheer scope of what they could do it is just scary beyond beleif,
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chocolote12
A Penguin Flailing Against The Keyboard Of Life.
[X] A Zoo; you walk between exhibits and around the edge of great enclosures, studying and being studied in turn. Here a horde of rats dig a warren in broken stone, there a flight of pigeons wheel back and forth between a hundred wooden aviaries. There are people all around you, cooing and laughing over the antics of those they came to observe, but they cannot see what you can. The horizon has sprouted bars, and from beyond giants with eyes of fire watch you with an inquisitive gaze.
[X] A Court; the walls are decorated with portraits of your parents, smiling down at you. In the jury sit a dozen caricatures, with bloodshot eyes and teeth stained brown from drink. They watch you hungrily, fixated on your every word, while in the judge's box your twin sits and watches your fumbling speech with naked contempt.
Switched from Church to Zoo, based on Greedy Electricity King commentary. Greedy Electricity Kings are fun.
[X] A Court; the walls are decorated with portraits of your parents, smiling down at you. In the jury sit a dozen caricatures, with bloodshot eyes and teeth stained brown from drink. They watch you hungrily, fixated on your every word, while in the judge's box your twin sits and watches your fumbling speech with naked contempt.
Switched from Church to Zoo, based on Greedy Electricity King commentary. Greedy Electricity Kings are fun.
- Location
- Dreiländereck
[X] A Court; the walls are decorated with portraits of your parents, smiling down at you. In the jury sit a dozen caricatures, with bloodshot eyes and teeth stained brown from drink. They watch you hungrily, fixated on your every word, while in the judge's box your twin sits and watches your fumbling speech with naked contempt.
[X] A Museum; you are a guest here, wandering starstruck through halls lined with portraits and plaques. A hall of statues is being renovated while you watch, each stone form replaced by one a tiny bit older, a tiny bit less refined. You can see the originals, you know, held for posterity in the archive, but that means asking the curator for permission, and his skinless face and cloak of grey discomfort you in a way you cannot quite explain.
So, I am really just voting for the imagery I like most here.
[X] A Museum; you are a guest here, wandering starstruck through halls lined with portraits and plaques. A hall of statues is being renovated while you watch, each stone form replaced by one a tiny bit older, a tiny bit less refined. You can see the originals, you know, held for posterity in the archive, but that means asking the curator for permission, and his skinless face and cloak of grey discomfort you in a way you cannot quite explain.
So, I am really just voting for the imagery I like most here.
[X] A Stage; beyond it, a theatre long since abandoned. Velvet seats stand in long rows, encrusted with webs, dust lies in piles inches thick. Chains of silver and gold hang from your wrists and coil around your neck, and overhead old floodlights halo you in burning light. Your audience is old and emaciated, clad in finery several centuries out of date, and they stare at you with hollow eyes.
[X] A Museum; you are a guest here, wandering starstruck through halls lined with portraits and plaques. A hall of statues is being renovated while you watch, each stone form replaced by one a tiny bit older, a tiny bit less refined. You can see the originals, you know, held for posterity in the archive, but that means asking the curator for permission, and his skinless face and cloak of grey discomfort you in a way you cannot quite explain.
[X] A Museum; you are a guest here, wandering starstruck through halls lined with portraits and plaques. A hall of statues is being renovated while you watch, each stone form replaced by one a tiny bit older, a tiny bit less refined. You can see the originals, you know, held for posterity in the archive, but that means asking the curator for permission, and his skinless face and cloak of grey discomfort you in a way you cannot quite explain.
notanautomaton
I've got 99 quests, I've finished one
Archmages can't actually do anything because other archmages would just kick their shit in.
- Location
- Denmark
We're doing this. We're making this happen.
[X] A Stage; beyond it, a theatre long since abandoned. Velvet seats stand in long rows, encrusted with webs, dust lies in piles inches thick. Chains of silver and gold hang from your wrists and coil around your neck, and overhead old floodlights halo you in burning light. Your audience is old and emaciated, clad in finery several centuries out of date, and they stare at you with hollow eyes.
[X] A Court; the walls are decorated with portraits of your parents, smiling down at you. In the jury sit a dozen caricatures, with bloodshot eyes and teeth stained brown from drink. They watch you hungrily, fixated on your every word, while in the judge's box your twin sits and watches your fumbling speech with naked contempt.
TenfoldShields
Lounging on a Hoard of Words
- Pronouns
- He/Him
You legitimately don't need to worry too much about archmages fwiw. Like on the face of it what they can do is scary but they're inhibited by their power as much as they're, like, uplifted by it. The law of unintended consequences that applies to all Mages ("Oops," said the Mage who accidentally triggered a Time paradox "That wasn't there before") applies proportionally to them. Any time they try to change something, change anything, they run the risk of a. changing the Fallen World in wholly unplanned ways (iirc one of the fluff bits in one of the books from the last Archmage who did the ascending thing mentions that they accidentally propelled some Roman mystery cult to global prominence, whoops Jesus is a thing now) and b. getting smacked by other Archmages.
So generally if they want to change anything they have to be really, really careful and consider it really fucking hard. Tbh if an Archmage tries to fuck us it's probably for the best anyway considering that that's, like, the answer to the "how bad of an idea could it really be if a time traveler hasn't tried to stop us yet" question.
He's from Werewolf 2ed iirc, basically he uses his control over the city's spooky spiritual power grid to hold the lesser spirits that run off electricity (everything from appliances to lights to homes and heating) in his thrall, but by the same token lives in fear of his "mother", the city's nuclear reactor, ever stirring. That's really the fun thing about nWoD's spirit world, you can get really great ideas for how the ecosystem works just by patterning over how, well, how things actually work. The spirits of radio stations and broadcast towers take Essence payment from other spirits to seed mortal channels with coded messages. A shopping mall is like a coral reef, a riot of color and traffic and prosperity built on the bones of failed stores and closed outlets. An airport could be like an aerie, where the monstrous metal bird-dragon-things take Essence to carry spirits from city to city and a spectral Cinnabon is trying to sell you sweets.
The Shadow in London is especially interesting because, like, the way spirits generally work is that they're "flavored" by what they eat. It defines them and shapes them and over time they can drift into new definitions or new shapes (gradually, if they move too fast they get super fucked up and crazy). Fr'ex a spirit of gallows crow can go from a bloody beaked corpse eater to something tamer and fatter, nourished by all the tourists to the Tower of London. While a passing spirit of illness might be a conceptual echo of the Black Death.
There's so many layers of history piled atop each other, like how there's still that band of ash beneath the city from the time Boadicea drove her chariot over the place or pits of plague dead next to subway tunnels, that the barrier between the "real" world and the Shadow is thin and the latter bleeds into the former constantly and creepily.
so yeah that's why i'm voting for zoo
shit's cool
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Pathetic King
"I Speak To The Audient Void."
- Location
- Colorado
[X] A Stage; beyond it, a theatre long since abandoned. Velvet seats stand in long rows, encrusted with webs, dust lies in piles inches thick. Chains of silver and gold hang from your wrists and coil around your neck, and overhead old floodlights halo you in burning light. Your audience is old and emaciated, clad in finery several centuries out of date, and they stare at you with hollow eyes.
[X] A Museum; you are a guest here, wandering starstruck through halls lined with portraits and plaques. A hall of statues is being renovated while you watch, each stone form replaced by one a tiny bit older, a tiny bit less refined. You can see the originals, you know, held for posterity in the archive, but that means asking the curator for permission, and his skinless face and cloak of grey discomfort you in a way you cannot quite explain.
[X] A Museum; you are a guest here, wandering starstruck through halls lined with portraits and plaques. A hall of statues is being renovated while you watch, each stone form replaced by one a tiny bit older, a tiny bit less refined. You can see the originals, you know, held for posterity in the archive, but that means asking the curator for permission, and his skinless face and cloak of grey discomfort you in a way you cannot quite explain.