18 - Metropolis

Metropolis is a place of fallen splendor,a monument of the past, a tomb filled with wonders.Its crossroads are themselves magic symbols,concealing sbrouded meanings.Guards and beralds lie deceased at their posts,shrunken like scorched insects.Incanta! tions have been woven over bouses and sludge!clogged chan! nels.It is still possible to find bidden gateways and sealed vaults where the most fantastic treasures lie bidden away.

The sun never rises on the Eternal City.Time seems to have ground to a balt,or maybe the sun has burned out for good. Metropolis is perpetually cast in blue!grey,dusky light emerging from behind the soualid clouds.A sense of great weight looms over Metropolis,as though its bouses and streets themselves are forged from lead or black steel,part of the very earth itself.Its buildings rise all around the visitor,climbing steadily towards the black sky.Any traveler appears utterly insignificant,while the city itself is monumental,unyielding,and everlasting. Metropolis’architecture lies beyond Time.Here,all major cities from every human era exist side by side,featuring buildings from ancient Rome,18th!century Paris,London’s industrial slums,and unknown arcologies from the future.Here and there,shards of our world’s cities intrude into Metropolis. Alleys,streets,and entire neighborboods form little enclaves of light and life between the labyrinths of stone and steel. Those who have wandered through Metropolis and returned to Elysium often feel fragmented,as though something within them has become disjointed,tweaked,or pulled taut.The som! bre facades,winding stairs,and terrifying Citadels recur in the wanderer’s dreams.Memories from a multitude of lives long past start to surface the longer the wanderer dwells on the city.

To Wander
Through Metropolis

Metropolis is a maze of alleys,stairwells,streets,avenues,and bridges,where Time and Space function differently than in Elysium.You can walk towards a destination for bours on end without ever coming closer,yet turn around a corner and sud! denly find yourself in another part of the great city or be right back where you started.

Traveling through the city becomes a ritual in itself,which often appears crazy and disconcerting for the uninitiated beholder.In order to make progress,the traveler can be forced to walk exactly seven steps into an alley,retrace the seven steps,and then walk back the way they originally came. In the marketplace with the rusty monument,they might need to switch two specific paving!stones in order to continue in a straight line.Using chalk lines on a tile wall,they can create a new entrance into a domed building.If they sleep there one night,they find themselves in a new place when they wake up.

Metropolis’s inbabitants have intuitively learned bow to make their way around,but only the most skilled can reach the bidden places of the city.These guides utilize dangerous shortcuts,secret melodies,chalk symbols,blood sacrifices, etchings,and portals in order to get to their destination.They can be bargained with,but they know their worth,and the careless traveller can quickly be led astray!or worse.

Phenomena in Metropolis

Metropolis is filled with many curious phenomena. In certain locations,sounds refuse to carry,while in others voices echo from times gone by.The city’s shadows are deep and cold,occasionally moving as though an invisible source of light compelled them into a new position!like the band of an age!old sun! dial.When touched by certain sbadows,one might per! ceive wondrous sensations,a curious chill,or an alien presence.Some are suffocating,as though oxygen itself has been drained,while others are an open portal to another part of the city.Some who have lain dormant in deep shadows have been eternally altered;their dreams, lives,and warmth have been devoured.Even gravity behaves strangely.Travelers can fall from a tall building, plunging towards their deaths,only to have gravity lose its hold as they drift lazily and touch down unscathed.In other places,they can plunge upwards into the clouds,as though the entire world had flipped around.

TΗΕ ΜΔCΗΊΩΕ CÍψZ

The Machine City is a complex,mechanical construction covering a large part of Metropolis.Colossal steam turbines are wired to primitive pylons,transmitting power over several kilometers.These are interspaced with pistons,gargantuan generators,luminescent reactor basins,and unfathomable apparatuses whose purpose was long!ago forgotten.Some sections resemble an imposing clockwork with gigantic cog! wheels,copper wires,and brass chains.Modern and ancient technology intermingle and various machine parts are intercon! nected without any apparent purpose.In control centers,innu! merable regulators and computers are illuminated by flickering screens and ghostly bolograms. Rusting metal staircases and ladders connect various sections of the complex.Open shafts run bundreds of meters up and down through the metallic infrastructure.Large areas of the Machine City are dead and silent,but in other parts the wires still spark and buzz,cogwheels revolve steadily,and pistons labor while smoke streams upwards from grating and chimneys.

Should a character spend time tinkering with the Machine City’s dilapidated technology,they will discover machines able to bend time and Space.Prisms shape light into illusions,show! ing a character’s deepest desire.Clone tanks and DNA weavers spawn creatures both beautiful and monstrous.Anatomical charts detail the dismemberment of entire worlds.Ritual cham! bers with electrodes and surgical equipment open portals into other dimensions.Mirrored screens enable viewers to see throughout time.

For millennia,the Machine City has been operated by techrons, meek creatures that repair or dismantle parts of the Machine, and occasionally construct new ones.Even though knowledge of the Machine City’s exact purpose has been long lost,there are indicators that it plays some role in maintaining the Illusion.This gigantic clockwork city stretches out in all directions and might reshape reality as we know it. $1$

TΗΕ Cİ О Н ФНЕ ОЕЛО

The City of the Dead is built on one of Metropolis’ 7,777 bills. Cemetery monuments and mausoleums rise bundreds of meters above the ground, forming a maze of barely meterwide alleys, which slowly spiral upwards to the bill’s peak. A grid of deep ravines cuts into the bill. The bill itself is almost bollow, carved into pieces by burial chambers, crypts, and catacombs.

Residing among the stone and statuary are creatures which expired over the infinite passage of time. Those few humans who died the True Death rest bere in enormous mausoleums, waiting for Time itself to perish. Creatures from beyond time and Space lie embalmed in sealed chambers. There are catacombs where blackened, hollow skulls are kept as trophies from war and conouests; their heads unnaturally shaped, teeth yellowed, and lips dried and receded in placid and contemptuous smiles. On the outskirts, crematorium kilns stand silent and cold. The ashes of millions of slaves are kept in enormous urns, many of which have cracked asunder - their contents are now swirling through streets and alleys. Glass receptacles bold wondrous and beautiful creatures, preserved in their post-mortem loveliness.

Some of our cemeteries are portals to the City of the Dead: Père-Lachaise in Paris, the Roman catacombs, the cemetery in Santiago, and Cairo’s necropolis to name a few.

Amid the cemetery monuments, mumbling creatures awaiting eternity bold endless vigils. Prayer pennants flit in the stagnant breeze. Dead gods reside in sealed vaults underneath the bill; they’ve lost their souls, but are trapped in bodies still aching with emotion and desire. They cannot leave their chambers, yet often try to attract the living into their tombs, gaining a short respite from their suffering as they live out their desires and devour their victim. Anyone foolish or unlucky enough to touch their cursed bodies becomes frozen, gangrene spreading over them like large bruises.

On the bill’s peak rests the Empty Chapel, a bone-white building where legend has it the Demiurge shall be interred after the end of the world. After the Demiurge disappeared from his Citadel, an attendant appeared at the gravesite. It now guards the Empty Chapel with a massive sword and a dour look. Its presence has been interpreted as beralding both the Demiurge’s death and continued life. The truth is unclear.

THE TEMPLES

Magnificent temples are built on each of Metropolis’ 7,777 bills. none of them alike. They are all exouisite fragments from thousands of cultures and realms. Some temples are no more than ruins, while others are echoing marble cathedrals, behemoths of steel and glass, fortresses of iron, or towers of patinated copper. All are archaic and alien, artifacts from begone and deceased eras constructed and preserved in monumental extravagance. Divine symbols of victory and triumph, every temple incarcerated a fallen god, but after humanity’s fall, many of them have broken free. These are powerful beings as strange and ethereal as they are frightening and distorted. They wander the ruins of Metropolis, occasionally venturing into other worlds or into Elysium. Many still dwell in their old temples, bound by old magics or living in confusion and fear of what exists beyond their halls.

TΗΕ CİチΔΟΕLS

Threatening and sombre, built in foreign architectures with arches, staircases, and black facades, the Citadels stand bigher than any other building in Metropolis, rising mile after mile through smog, baze, smoke, and clouds. they are the nodes of the Archons’ power. It is from bere their consciousnesses stream throughout the dimensions, upholding the Demiurge’s system of Principles. Each Citadel is like a black giant towering over Metropolis’ dead landscape.

Within sight of a Citadel, you feel as though the building itself were watching you. The nearer you get, the closer your mind comes to that of the Archon’s. It seeps into your pores, fills your consciousness, and reweaves your thoughts, urging you to become part of its Principle. For example, all who reside in Kether’s Citadel are filled with deep reverence for the ruling powers and wish to take their own place in the divine bierarchy. All visitors to Binab’s Citadel feel their place in the great community, craving ritual, and feeling powerless as an individual before the mighty collective. In Geburah’s Citadel, everyone obeys laws, decrees, and age-old references inscribed in iron. Only in Malkuth’s Citadel do explorers feel a whisper of their human divinity.

The Citadels are akin to Metropolis itself, laying largely in ruins. Their facades have been dark and dilapidated since the Great War, when the Archons almost wiped each other out after the Demiurge’s disappearance. A Citadel’s labyrinthine interior consists of giant balls, archives, alien landscapes, endless staircases, thrones, and abysses. The first thousand floors are a shadow of their former glory and home to the Archon’s worshippers, beings who have stumbled into the Citadel out of fear or devotion. A few miles up, the Archons’ true servants and beralds are encountered. The bigher you climb, the deeper into the Archon you travel, as the Citadel is the Archon. Its primordial power and Principles are cast into the building’s very foundation.

Four of the Citadels, belonging to the fallen Archons, are blackened, bollowed out, and dead. Parts of the facades have cracked open, their chambers echoing of emptiness, while the Archon’s presence is more like an echo from the past. Isolated angels and lictors still wander in these ruins, mourning their former god-kings.

The Oubliettes of Forgetfulness

The Citadels are important nodes in the mechanisms of Death. The Archons feed on our souls, and after death the Citadels call to us. We follow the Principle which had the greatest hold over us, and allow ourselves to be ensnared by it. Certain souls can escape this calling, tearing themselves free, while others are caught in an eternal tug-ofwar between various Principles.

Far up in the Citadels, the Archons keep souls in innumerable black chambers. There, in complete darkness, we assume the physical form we had in life. We do not need to eat, drink, sleep, or even breathe. We are alone with ourselves, free from suffering, but denied any interaction with the rest of the universe. This solitude is oppressive and suffocating. It devours all sounds, all senses. It is peaceful, yet ghastly at the same time.

Denied outward stimulation, the soul dives inwards, pulling up memories, thoughts, faiths, and convictions which are allowed to flower and protect us in extreme isolation. In this emptiness, all memories and desires bloom like colors on an empty canvas. Here, in this borderland of longing, we relive our childboods, meet friends long dead, stumble through our first sexual attempts, and rememher everything - every passion, yearning, hatred, sorrow, and failure.

Yet each time the memories are pulled out, the more difficult they are to find again. Bit by bit, they are devoured by the Archons’ presence. We are constantly forced to dig deeper inwards, surrendering more and more of ourselves until we are completely empty and depleted. It is like being stripped naked piece by piece, emptying our pockets and baring everything we ever owned. After no memories remain, we exist in nonexistence, unable to comprebend our environment or ourselves. We are devoid of everything. It is only then our soul is set free.

There are those who keep fighting, refusing to give up their memories and innermost secrets. Some are also successful in preserving pieces of themselves, and are reborn with memories from their past life.

TΗΕ Δβ7ςS

The Archons’ ten Citadels form a circle around the Abyss, the bottomless gulf where the Demiurge’s Citadel once stood. Now there is merely a deep shaft, surrounded by sheer cliffs. Metropolis extends right up to the edge, the outermost buildings precariously balancing on the rim; occasionally, an odd bouse falls into the void. One of Metropolis’s oily rivers ends in a thundering waterfall bere, cascading down into the darkness. Alien spores, mold, algae, and mushrooms grow along the cliff walls, making the terrain slippery and bazardous. Echoing voices resonate between the cliff walls, accompanied by wailing sounds and whispers. Flying beasts bover like scavenger birds above the Abyss, feasting on the prolific crustacz, which crawl up and down the cliffs, laying their eggs in crevices and cracks. The Abyss is several kilometers straight across, and in some places the other side remains out of sight. narrow cliff shelves and primitive flights of steps lead down into the darkness, as well as rusty winches and wires which stretch downwards. €ven with the light from above, roughly ten meters down everything turns pitch black. It is said that Astaroth himself plunged into the Abyss in search of his lost twin, while thousands of curious people have made the journey themselves to search for traces of the Demiurge.

When wandering through Metropolis, you will encounter strange, wondrous and terrifying things. Below are some examples. â—¯ Towering, black monoliths coated with an oily surface. The air is filled with buzzing flies. â—¯ A spiraling mosaic which covers the entire wall of a building. The longer you observe the mosaic, the sleepier you become. When you finally succumb, you sleep for a full day and have strange dreams of other worlds. â—¯ Ruins riddled with bullet holes and signs of explosions. A Tiger tank from Nazi-Germany rests abandoned in the rubble. â—¯ From a seemingly abandoned building, you can hear moans and sounds of pleasure. A feeling of arousal and strong sexual urges overtake those who come close to it. â—¯ Buildings are frozen in ice and snow, an eternal winter reigning over this area. The bitter cold streams from a hole in the street, which leads down into a warren of ice caves. â—¯ The night sky is filled with strange stars, moons, and comets, which seem to be eerily close. All sounds are muffled and beautiful constellations float around, casting curious shadows. â—¯ A grand temple with ancient pillars and statues. Its interior is a bizarre, twisted version of a Roman bathhouse, featuring basins filled with stale water, steam, erotic murals, and the constant sound of dripping water. Slithering and filthy creatures make these halls their home, and you stumble over the grisly remains of their victims.

• Megalithic structures of standing stones which seem to burst through the concrete and asphalt, surrounded by mist. White mushrooms grow over their surface and on the ground around them.
• A junkyard with mountains of waste and its underground incinerators roaring with heat. The streets, squares, and alleys are all buried in the garbage and stinking ash.
• An ancient seabed petrified for eternity. A grotesque and gargantuan fossil dominates the scene, impossible to determine.
• The air fills with the wild fluttering of thousands of wings. Birds of unknown origin have roosted in one of the dark skyscrapers. They dwell in the hollow structure and lift to the dark sky like a swarm of insects.
• A flooded city block filled with stale water. Rafts or boats are needed to pass through this area.
• A vast factory-cathedral of rusted iron waits in the distance. Amidst the cogs, gears, and pulleys, stairs lead down to catacombs. A grave waits in the centre of the chapel.
• The glow of a candle can be seen in a window of one of the black facades.
• A rusty radio mast with a desolate red lamp in the top. Beneath it, a small altar holds shredded birds, apparently scattered here as a sacrifice.
• Torn-out pages from religious writings in innumerable languages blow down the street like autumn leaves.
• Inside a building, an operating table is covered with strange organs, which pulse with a violet glow. The filthy, grey-green sinews, epidermis, and muscle fibers are covered by spotted flesh. It suckles your fingers before grafting itself to your body, the nerve fibers spreading under the skin like a disgusting cobweb.
• A building has shattered into thousands of pieces, cleaved by an immense force or exploded from within. In order to circumvent it, you must climb across mountains of sharp shards.
• Fresh, clear water escapes from a rusty pipe. There are trails on the ground suggesting that someone or something frequently comes here to drink.
• The shadows begin to twist and turn, followed by an icy chill that makes you tired and weak.
• A deep trough filled with things living at the bottom. Quivering meat and slimy organic substances grow in abundance. A constant bubbling and hissing sound can be heard.
• Chains and shackles lie in a rusty pile. Atop the pile, there is a mummified corpse curled in the fetal position.
• A palpable wave of sorrow sweeps out from the gateway of an old theatre. The closer you get, the more difficult it is to hold back the tears.
• Angelic creatures crawl like insects over a building’s facade dripping with moisture, lapping at the stone with pale, slimy tongues. Their spindly fingers search in the cracks and cavities, while their wings occasionally flitter in agitation.
• A gladiatorial arena where generations of slaves slaughtered each other as entertainment for the gods. The sandy floor of ground lead and iron shavings is still stained with their spilled blood. Their memories hover in a shimmering aurora around the arena, and will surrender their secrets in exchange for blood.
• Machines with strange cogwheels stand motionless and rusting. A vine with tiny, white flowers grows among them, defiantly emerging from the cracked asphalt.
• The street here has cracked open. Beneath the asphalt, there is a gigantic clockwork of discolored brass. Should you wish to do so, it is possible to climb down through the machinery and into the Underworld.
• Rows of vessels, tubes, and jars, where viruses and diseases lurk. A glass sphere hovers in the air above the rest. It contains a sentient contagion, which if released, takes over a body, dissolves it, and then reshapes it.
• Enormous tapestries of thick cloth and silver thread. They seem to contain a curious message, but large sections are covered in mold and dust.
• A passage leads down to a crypt, where three bodies lie in their mortuary shrouds. Outwardly, they appear healthy and vibrant.
• A network of channels is filled with sludge and algae. A pale sheen glows on the surface.
• A vibrant garden filled with plants, somehow alive in the city’s sombre landscape. At the centre of the enclosure, you find crucified angels with their wings torn away. Catheters and medical tubing lead from the angels’ bodies down into the ground, fertilizing the greenery. One of the angels is still alive.
• A massive bunker, but the metal gateway looks like it was forced open from the inside. Atop tall pedestals, hearts of stone rest under bell jars on cushions of red silk. One of the pedestals is empty and its bell jar has been smashed.
• A viaduct menacingly arches over the street. Below, in its deep shadow, something suddenly moves and slips away into an alley.
• A building with organic forms and openings resembling bodily orifices. If you approach it, your mouth fills up with an electric taste, as though you had licked a battery.
• Between two dark skyscrapers, you glimpse one of the Citadels. You can feel its presence before you see it. Someone or something there is observing you, and for a brief moment, you glimpse into the Archon’s consciousness.
• A cathedral-like building shrouded in a grey haze, abandoned and burned out. In the basement, flickering holograms roam back and forth.
• An operating chair with mechanical arms equipped with scalpels and syringes. If you sit, it activates and fulfills its grisly purpose.
• A collection of warm, blood-red stones. If you press the palm of your hand against them, a singing melody starts sweeping between temples and skyscrapers. It soon blows away the dust, intensifying until it roars like klaxons over the dead city.
• A darkened vault from which distant traffic, voices, and laughter can be heard. Should you enter through its door, you are immediately transported back to Elysium.
• A smashed statue lying in thousands of pieces across one of the market places. At the base of the statue, a portal of patinated copper opens onto a staircase leading downwards.
• Gigantic mirrors of red obsidian, stained by soot, stretch from floor to ceiling. If you take the time to study and look at them, you see how the mirror images move. These bloodred reflections come from the dream worlds. If you learn the code, you can use them as a gateway to Limbo.
• A tree of black iron rises in a square. Its branches stretch out like thorny arms. At the tree’s base, an opening and a staircase lead downwards. Somher music floats up the stairs to greet you.
• Chiming laughter erupts from a desolate house. Shortly thereafter, a body is thrown out of a window, landing with a wet thud on the street. The laughter continues from inside the house.
• An industrial facility illuminated with a yellow-green sheen emanating from large cloudy receptacles, where slave specimens are preserved in endless rows of floating, bloated bodies. Below each receptacle, there are mouldered uniforms and rusty weapons.
• A futuristic steel building where every glass window has been smashed. Below the building, a shanty town sprawls outward, and you can glimpse movements in the numerous sheds.
• Low, tiled buildings, which are burnt out and bombed to pieces. All noises are muffled and wet, and sound oddly distant even when they are close. A magnificent horse wanders along the street and disappears behind a corner.
• A shadow slowly moves like a sundial, dust whirling up at its touch. As it moves, a new path is opened up: a staircase leading upwards.
• A burned-out building, which is completely empty. Echoing voices from thousands of years ago still cascade between its walls. Secrets are whispered and pacts are made here.
• Gravity’s pull eases, allowing you to make impressive leaps and gain a sense of buoyancy. The farther you continue forward, the less hold gravity possesses until you see sections of buildings lazily hovering around a strange machine.
• From a distance, you hear thunder rolling over the city and see flashes of lightning between the tall buildings. In the brief, blinding light, you catch images of how the city looked before its decay.
• Ancient aqueducts of enormous proportions loom over the houses, casting some in permanent shadow. The underside is covered by lichens and moss faintly glowing in the dusky light.
• Piers reach out into a river clogged with slurry. Rusty cranes stand upon the quay. In the water, there lies an imposing steam ship from the early 20th century. It is blackened, but you can make out the name: RMS Lusitania.
• A temple building made of dark green glass. A faint glow emanates from it, painting the underside of the clouds in sickly colors. Petrified and desiccated bodies from innumerable creatures lie all around.

ШHER POU UMLK İ ΗΗΕ ΕΦΕRΛΔL Cİ

- The Presence of the Archon

The presence of an Archon becomes tangible. Its psychic might stretches out from the Citadel and penetrates into you. Angels are seen in the firmament, while mad people who worship the Archon’s power stalk the streets.

ASTAROTH

Memories wash over you, drowning you in glimpses from other lives, fragments and sensations of another existence, and small seeds of divinity awakened. You recognize streets, buildings, and places. It is like returning to an orphanage you haven’t seen in many, many years. Much has changed, but every nook barbors a foggy memory.

- Cross Time and Space

You cross Time and Space. Perhaps you reappear in a completely different location in the city, or move through Time and leave Metropolis entirely, returning days, months, years, or centuries after you first entered the city.

- Wondrous Place

this location conceals something interesting. It might be one of the Citadels, the Machine City, the City of the Dead, the Abyss, or another of Metropolis’ many buildings and secrets.

- Gateway to Elysium

The Illusion pulls you back to Elysium. Perhaps you walk around a street corner and find yourself in an alley in our world. Maybe you bear faint sounds of life and traffic in the distance, and can follow this through Metropolis’ labyrinth and back to our prison.

- Life in the Ruins

Something stirs in the otherwise dead city. Maybe an Azghoul, feral humans, an angel, a wild animal picking up a scent, or something more exotic.

- The Influence of the City

The Eternal City has a deep influence. It’s dark shadows sweep over a person, profoundly altering them forever. While Metropolis can have a physical influence, it can also mentally influence characters. A Dramatic Hook can be substituted, two Attributes switch places, an Advantage or Disadvantage are exchanged, or an Archetype changes. When you exit Metropolis, you are not the same person.

CULÆS

Prophets

of the Third Temple

Ties to Powers: Angel of the Archon Kether. Members: Orthodox Jews. Agenda: To lead the faithful to the Holy Land (Metropolis) and erect the third temple there, establishing a new realm as God’s chosen people.

Moves: Contacts in Synagogues, Information from Mossad, Unflinching Conviction, Hidden Assets.

During the massacre in the Warsaw ghetto in 1943, a young Jewish man, Jochim, was drawn into Metropolis. Desperate and drenched in blood, he wandered through the blackened city. He found a spring of black, still water and Quenched his thirst there. A light shone out of the darkness and an angel appeared to him. This angel proclaimed himself to be a servant of the Most High God and gave Jochim the sacred task of gathering the righteous. When the time was ripe, Jochim would lead them out of slavery and into the Holy Land like Moses.

Currently, Jochim is an aging Rabbi, who has gathered righteous Orthodox Jews since the end of the Second World War for an exodus from €lysium into Metropolis. On occasion, Jochim and his chosen few venture out on long marches in Metropolis, in order to speak to the Angel and offer sacrifices.

The cult has its largest influence in north America and Israel. They have continually gathered materials in preparation for their sacred journey. Before the sacred march can begin, the cult must endure a numher of trials and cleanse the world of the enemies of Jehovah.

The cult is the Angel’s extended arm in Єlysium. It has no intention of leading them into Metropolis or creating a new Holy Land, but uses the cult to fight the servants of the Death Angels. The cult’s adherents are dispatched to kill people stained by Inferno. The Angel is an adept manipulator, and this is not the first time be has wrapped the desperate around his finger. nomads, escaped slaves, and caravan drivers throughout history have been duped by his beautiful words about them being the ‘chosen few’ of the beavenly realm.

Section 11

Ties to Powers: Geburab. Members: For the majority, police and members of private security firms, but also prosecutors and judges.

Agenda: Protect the secret of Metropolis. Flush out riffraff such as drug addicts, bomosexuals, and atheists.

Moves: Contacts High Up in the Justice System, Cover Each Other’s Backs, Forge Evidence, Paths to Metropolis, Manipulate Police Reports, Make Sure People Disappear.

The cult has its core membership within the law enforcement agencies. Indeed, Section 11 can be found under various guises in police departments all over the world. Lictors who have roles as prosecutors, judges, and managers select promising candidates and indoctrinate them into the cult’s secrets. Those who have a propensity for violence and a conservative viewpoint are generally chosen, and racism is endemic in the group. In north America, Afro-Americans, Arabs, and Hispanics are key targets of the cult. In the Middle East, it is foreign workers from India, Africa, Western cultures, and those of differing tribes and ethnicities. Members wallow in a bateful stew of bomophobia, misogyny, and disapproval of various subcultures.

Section 11’s main objective is protecting the secret of Metropolis. Outsiders are not to be told about the Eternal City, and people who talk about its existence are beaten up in custody and threatened into silence. If this doesn’t work, they are framed for crimes they did not commit. Fingerprints at a bomicide scene or possession of drugs or child pornography usually takes care of most enemies. If this still does not dissuade the person, a fake suicide or overdose can be arranged. In some cases, victims are thrown into vans and left in dark alleys to be devoured by the wild beasts of Metropolis.

Within the cult membership, Metropolis is viewed as a dire warning of what is to come, if they allow criminals, bomeless, homosexuals, and atheists to take over the world. By cleaning up the urban decay, influencing politics in a conservative direction, and keeping Metropolis a secret, Section 11 seeks to strengthen the Illusion and preserve the mainstay of society.

Flakchatters

Ties to Powers: Malkuth. Members: Urban Explorers, alternative youths, conspiracy theorists, and occultists.

Agenda: To explore and understand Metropolis. Moves: Secret Networks, Keep a Check on the City, Hiding Places and Haunts, Get Into Cordoned-Off Places.

Among the bundreds of Internet borror stories, creepy pastas, urban myths, and tales of unexplained events, there are stories of people who have seen, or even ventured into, an alien and sombre city. The Flakchatters are a loosely woven network of urban explorers, occultists, and cryptid bunters seeking the truth bebind these stories. They meet to explore abandoned places, hoping to discover a patbway into the rumored city.

Some members have actually reached Metropolis. They bring back curious objects and stories of what they have seen. They know they need to keep quiet about their experiences, as several of them have been unjustly arrested or disappeared entirely. Of late, a culture of bullying has arisen within the cult. They’ve realized insight into human suffering and its victims can open the barriers between worlds. As such, some cult members have committed serious crimes. They target bomeless people, assaulting or even killing them, all to open the doors of the Illusion.

Cat, a young woman with punk sensibilities, has become the self-appointed leader of the flakchatters. She has gained control over an Azghoul through learning his True Name. She uses him to scare the others into submission. The Azghoul looks like a massive older man with a borribly scarred face. He follows Cat everywhere and does not speak, except for the occasional mumbled word.

ME+ROPOLIS’ SURVIVORS

When we were cast from our thrones, there were few who bemoaned our fall. Creatures looked up to the Demiurge with fear, but when the God ignored them, they shed their shackles of slavery and danced and sung in euphoric freedom. A new dawn without tyrants had apparently come. Since then, almost all of them have been obliterated and their happiness has died with them. Miserable remnants of these peoples can still be found residing in Metropolis. The Kurfagi fought and died for us. They were brainwashed for war. now they are leaderless and disconcerted. They are no longer soldiers and do not rememher their past. Their fingers are crooked blades and their bands are grey and bard as armor. They lap up nourishment from the streets and attempt to deaden their pain through drugs.

The Curatorids chose our slaves, then tested and modified them. Half their bodies are mechanical with built-in instruments to measure, heal, and adjust the anatomy of slaves, as well as correct aspects their owner wanted altered. They still carry out their experiments when possible. They are too preoccupied with their own obsession to see the world has died around them, and always have an excuse for what they have done.

The Amenthills can be found gliding between the abandoned bouses. They appear weightless, ethereal, dancing on the gentle winds. If touched, their skin falls apart like dried petals and swirls away on the wind in tiny bits. They mumble commands, proclamations, and lies, repeated like mantras.

In deserted bangars, the Constructors stand silently in endless lines, collecting dust. Mechanical guards created for war and destruction, they are now rusted relics with brilliant intellects locked in immobile bodies.

The Magistrates sleep in Metropolis’ subterranean crypts and catacombs or away in the sealed chambers of its stately towers. They are connected to complex machines, which preserve their lives while they await our return. Often, they are surrounded by enormous treasures and riches they have amassed. Once, they were our administrators, but the few who remain have abandoned their crowns. The cruel deeds they committed in our names have filled them with guilt and resentment.

The tragic Ephoria were once beautiful beyond words, and formed pacts with us to conserve their beauty. now, their skin is droopy and doughy, infections festering in folds and cavities, exuding a repugnant stench. It is as though their bodies have melted and decayed, draped over a skeleton that remains impossibly upright, a wax doll beld over a bot flame. If you should encounter them, they whine pitifully and bide their faces bebind long, sagging fingers. They do not want us to see what they have become.

Azghouls

The azghouls were our former slaves. An azghoul perceives a human being’s soul rather than the physical semblance. As such, they can still barbor fear, desire, or batred towards a human being who has been born and died bundreds of times over in €lysium.

The azghouls were once exouisite beings - the azadaevae - but they were truncated, reshaped, and compelled to serve us. They are antbropomorphous, supernaturally slim, and taller than us. Their beautiful features are distorted by operations and modifications. Almost uniformly, their eyes are deep green and completely lack pupils.

All azghouls wear armor of smoke-colored glass, which looks as though it was forged to perfectly fit their bodies. This creation is actually a parasite, living in a painful symbiosis with its bost. Long spikes penetrate into the azgboul’s spine, connecting this outer shell with their nervous system. It is possible to see through the smoky glass and view the skinless muscles beneath. The creature’s internal organs are woven together with the armor’s technology via tubes, sharp instruments, and books to give the parasite total control. It was Mankind who trapped the azghouls in these constructions, thus tying their physical existence to our servitude. Via the armor, we controlled them and compelled them into submission. An azghoul who tries to remove their armor perishes under severe torment.

The azghouls are still our slaves, but we have forgotten bow to make them obey. Anyone who learns an azgboul’s True name receives total power over it. In the Illusion, azghouls appear like stately, intimidating people, but their bodies invariably exbibit scars and injuries.

Azghoul

Home: Metropolis. Creature Type: Former human slaves (azadaevae before that).

Abilities

• Sharp senses: The being’s senses are perfect, able to pick up the most minute sound, scent, even an intuitive sense that something seems ‘off.’
• Soulsight: Can always see a creature’s true form and a human’s past lives.
• Body protection: All Harm taken is reduced by $-1$.
• Former servant: If a human calls an azgboul by its True Name, the azghoul is forced to obey the human as its master.

Combat [5], Influence [1], Magic [2].
Combat [Exceptional]

• Overwhelm [causes $+1\mathbf{Harm}$, opponent gets -1 to any attacking or avoidance moves].
• Counter-attack [attacks immediately after being attacked, -2 Avoid Harm].
• Destroy an opponent’s weapon.
• Attack many targets simultaneously.

Influence [Weak]

• Offer guidance or knowledge in Metropolis.

Magic [novice]

• See any creature for what it really is.
• Sense a human’s wishes.

Attacks

Azghouls are frightening warriors capable of defeating most human foes when faced directly. These creatures’ armor strengthens them and they have boned their skills in Metropolis over thousands of years.

Unarmed: Lift up [-] [Distance: arm, the target must Act Under Pressure to get free]; Throw [1] [Distance: arm, target knocked to the ground]; Crusbing punches [2] [Distance: arm].

Arcaic blade and spike weapon: Dasb attack [2] [Distance: room, attacks multiple targets]; Overwhelming attack [3] [Distance: arm, target gets -1 to attacking and avoiding rolls]; Destroy weapon [-] [Distance: arm, the attack destroys the opponent’s weapon].

Throwing blade: Impale [2] [Distance: field].

Wounds & Harm Moves

Wounds: - $000000\stackrel{\otimes }{\star }$

• The attack bounces off its armor.
• The azgboul immediately counterattacks [-2 Avoid Harm].
• A part of the armor is ripped from the creature’s body, making it scream in agony [+1 to next roll].
• The azghoul flees away from the threat, leaving a trail of shimmering blood.
• The azghoul is knocked to the ground, seemingly dead…

Dead.

• Dasb attack [Distance: room].

Gynachids

Gynachids are solitary carnivores, which bunt in Metropolis and other worlds beyond the Illusion. They are vaguely anthropomorphic creatures, and can move on two or four legs. Their skin is dark grey and sticky, and their genitalia is a meandering, tentacle-like organ. Once upon a time, they were our slaves, and in order to control their strong and pugnacious desires, we took away their ability to create offspring. Only through our divine grace, and a spark of our soul, could their fetuses live on.

After we were enslaved by the Demiurge, the gynachids started to go extinct. However, they discovered the patbways into €lysium, and found a way to live in symbiosis with us. When a gynachid mates with another of its species, the fertilized egg cannot develop in the creature’s womb. Therefore, it seeks out a human woman and implants the fetus in her womb. After six months, the infant gynachid is brought into the world, appearing unremarkably similar to a human child during its first months. Three months later, it starts developing gynachidian features. Between six months and a year of age, it rapidly grows into a full-sized gynachid. Before this bappens, the gynachid’s true parent comes to fetch its child, in order to raise it in the wastelands of Metropolis.

As thanks, gynachids usually leave bebind strange crystals or metal decorations for the surrogate mother. On occasion, an adult gynachid seeks out its surrogate mother or human siblings later in life.

Sometimes they attack people, which they view as an exciting game. Deep within, they still worship us devotedly. They are entranced by our music and art, and want to be more like us. Their limited perceptions do not Quite understand what happened or why we lost our divinity, but gynachids constantly see the entire situation as a fun new game, or perhaps have simply resigned themselves to the new situation without Question.

Gynachids strut and prance with delight from being petted and stroked, emitting a purr-like, burbling sound from their diaphragm. they also possess an eagerness to mate, play, and satisfy - something which, in our non-divine state, can be shocking and even lethal.

They have a natural batred towards angels and dread the Citadels. They often lie in ambush atop buildings and in deep shadows. An angel who is careless will be clawed asunder and eaten alive by a furious gynachid.

Tekrons

Tekrons are creatures of meat, bone, and plastic, cybernetic life forms originating from the Machine City where they tend the ancient machinery. Some move on spider-like legs, some hover through the air, and others inch and crawl their way forward. They have little intelligence, as they were only created to keep technology alive and repair anything broken. They do not understand, or simply refuse to accept, that Metropolis and its old order have crumbled. They cannot imagine any other type of existence, so they continue maintaining the aging systems. People who get in their way are viewed as intruders, but their bodies might be seen as spare parts. Sometimes, Tekrons are used by Metropolis’ other residents, as they follow orders to the letter without Questioning them.

Tekron

Home: The Machine City, Metropolis. Creature Type: Servant to the Archons.

Abilities

• Cybernetic: The creature can connect to computers and machines and communicate with and control them.
• Half machine: The being is not affected by smoke, poisons, or gases, and does not feel pain.
• Well equipped: Possesses the exact gear required for the particular situation - tear gas grenades, gas mask, climbing rope, glass cutter, knock-out drug, binoculars, etc.
• Unreadable: This being is inscrutable and cannot be read in any way.
• Body protection: All Harm taken is reduced by $-1$.

Combat [3], Influence [3], Magic [3].

Combat [Considerable]

• Acid blood [1 Harm if in close distance when the tekron is burt].
• Inflict electrical shock [2 Harm, knocked out if failing to Endure Injury].
• Scuttle up a wall and escape.

Influence [Considerable]

• Hack into a network.
• Reveal their knowledge of The Machine City.
• Control the electricity in a building.

Magic [Considerable]

• Create a magical apparatus or artifact.
• Repair a living being or object.
• Become one with a machine.

Attacks

Tekrons are pragmatic creatures that don’t care about other creatures if they aren’t a bindrance to the tekron’s immediate goal. Then it tries to subdue the target to return to its mission. Opponents that seem subdued are ignored.

Tools: Drill/saw/weld [2] [Distance: arm]; Electrical shock [2] [Distance: arm, automatically knocked out on a missed endure injury].

Magic: Become one with machine [1-2] [Distance: field, the tekron uses the surrounding technology to explode lamps or create power surges]; Repair [-] [Distance: arm, the tekron can repair anything, even living tissue, and replace it with mechanical parts].

Wounds & Harm Moves

Wounds: ○○○○ ★

• The attack falls barmlessly on the metal armor.
• A mechanical limb, tube or cable is cut and acid sprays from it [1 Harm].
• The tekron flees up on the nearest wall.
• Short circuit (subdued).
• The tekron explodes and dies [ $2$ Harm for everybody in distance arm, $1$ Harm for everybody in distance room].

The tekron dies.

The Tamb Guandian

Acrotides

Enfolded in dark veils covering their entire bodies, the Acrotides move silently and sweepingly through the labyrinthine passages of their Archon’s Citadel. Beneath their shrouds, they are skeletal humanoids of bone and cartilage, sinew and veins lie exposed, and their grey eyes rest deeply within the desiccated skull, which constitutes their face. Despite their brittle appearance, if they enter battle, they draw their Kirashts, razor sharp scythe-like blades, and dive at their adversaries in a swirl of black robes.

The Acrotides blindly serve the Archon they are tied to, and to humans their bebavior is incomprebensible. They can be seen wandering through the Citadel, carrying out curious rites, taking notes of events in an old ledger, lighting candles in narrow alcoves, and sacrificing viscera to blackened machinery. The Acrotides who served Archons who were annibilated, also, to a large extent, expired alongside their masters. However, some of them live on, either as servants to some new master, or wandering aimlessly in Metropolis, bereft of purpose.

The Tomb Guardian

In the City of the Dead, the Tomb Guardian stands silent vigil over the Empty Chapel. He is quiet, serene, and wrapped in tattered veils. He bolds a sword etched with magical runes. He allows no one over the threshold to the Empty Chapel, and will first attempt to turn them away politely before drawing his weapon. The Tomb Guardian cannot be influenced by any known magic, and if he should somebow be annibilated, his body and equipment are soon resurrected in close proximity to the Chapel so that he may take up his vigil once more.

The Tomb Guardian

Home: Metropolis. Creature Type: Unknown.

Abilities

Relentless: Immune against mental powers and magic. Unaffected by cold, poison and beat.

• Heavy armor: All Harm is reduced by -2.
• Undying: If the Guardian is slain in battle his body is recreated and returns some minutes later.

Combat [6], Influence [-], Magic [4].

Combat [Legendary]

• Keep enemies at bay [Act Under Pressure to attack in close combat].
• Hurl someone away.
• Destroy an opponent’s weapon.
• Attack several targets simultaneously.
• Impale someone on the sword [+2 Harm].

Cut off limb [Critical Wound].

Magic [Considerable]

• Shadow of death [-2 Stability in The Keepers vicinity]. Create living dead. Resurrect a dead person.
• Open the gates to the Empty Chapel (very unlikely).

Attacks

The Tomb Guardian attacks anything that tries to enter the Empty Chapel. The being is relentless and silent, his sword swings sing of coming death.

Rune sword: Swinging attack [2] [Distance: room, attacks multiple targets]; Impale [4] [Distance: arm]; Destroy weapon [-] [Distance: arm, the attack destroys the opponents weapon]; Cleaving cut [Critical Wound] [Distance: arm, the victim gets +1 to Avoid Harm]; Hurl opponent down from the tresbold [-] [Distance: arm, the victim has to Act Under Pressure or be thrown aside].

Wounds & Harm Moves

Wounds: ০০০০০০০০০০০০০০০০০০০ ★

• The attack bounces barmlessly off his armor.
• The Tomb Guardian ignores the damage.
• The Guardian counter-attacks [Harm for Harm].
• The Guardian is knocked back, giving the attacker an opportunity to run past him [Act Under Pressure].
• The Guardian raises dead opponents as living dead, fighting on his side.
• A weapon penetrates The Guardian’s body [Act Under Pressure to detach].
• The Guardian falls to a knee, praying to an unknown entity [ +1 on next roll].
• The Tomb Guardian collapses.
• The Tomb Guardian is destroyed and dissolves into dust only to be recreated later.

ASTAROTH

Yeoman, the Lost God, ruled over a world of sparkling purple seas, and multiple suns burning in the sky. It ruled its subjects from atop the magnificent machines towering over the purple waters. Yet its world crumbled, dismantled bit by bit by the old rulers of Metropolis. Yeoman was fettered in its temple on one of the 7,777 bills, in order to be viewed in its submission and bumiliation. After the fall and the death of Metropolis, Yeoman’s chains slowly mouldered away until it broke free and fled the temple, venturing into the sombre city.

The Lost God can still recall the purple sea and hear the murmur of its waves, but all it encounters now is ruin, silence, and ash. It remains close to the temple which served as its jail, for it is the only home that it knows now. The Lost God uses its limited powers to lure the unwary, creating illusions for all five senses. Its voice can imitate all sounds and voices, from a child’s shriek to a mother’s soothing lullaby. Its pores can produce alluring scents: a character’s favorite food, cigarette smoke, coffee, and so on. Whatever one desires, Yeoman recreates as an intricate phantasm. In many ways, it is like a lost child, scared and confused. When it captures wanderers and creatures, Yeoman asks them about the purple sea and the flaming throne. If they cannot answer its Questions, it usually tears them apart out of frustration and grief.

305

TΗΕ SΔVMGE BEAS & S

Metropolis’ ruins, streets, and enormous buildings have become home to feral creatures and bloodthirsty predator, grotesoue abominations, or experiments set loose before or after the fall. Some of them live on the borderland, biding their time and occasionally slipping across to find prey in Elysium.

ASTAROTH

Fly-like creatures with human faces and bodies balf a meter long and semi-transparent. Yellow-grey wings trail after them on the ground. They live in crevices and cavities of the Abyss. They inject an anesthetic poison into their prey, and then drag them down into the dark in order to lay their eggs in the still-living flesh.

Grinyes

These airborne scavengers exist across Metropolis. Biomechanical in nature, they resemble disassembled pterosaurs. They have a wingspan of two meters and often bunt in packs. On occasion, they attack living prey and attempt to fly away with it to a lofty ledge, where it is torn to pieces and eaten alive.

Ferocco

These large, four-legged predators have withers roughly 150 centimeters in beight. They appear tiger-like, but are bairless and can camouflage their skin in order to blend into the environment. They can climb up vertical walls and are capable of boring their claws into a roof, allowing them to linger there, motionless, waiting for prey. Ferocco bunt alone.

Jatharna

Unnaturally thin humanoids, close to six meters long. Like stilt-walkers, they wander slowly along the streets, as though they were walking on the bottom of a black sea. Their eyes are large and glow with a pale phosphorous sheen, which illuminates their faces. Their lonesome calls echo dismally between the bouses. They are naked and their skin is greywhite and bangs in folds around their bizarrely slender bodies. Their teeth are sharp, and their fingers are long and spindly. They sniff the air, fumbling their way forward. If they get bold of anyone or anything, they bite it asunder with their powerful jaws and soueeze the contents into their thin mouths. Sometimes they stand in one place, slowly rocking from side to side, and staring listlessly towards one of the Citadels or down into the Abyss.

Methusa

White-grey, slimy leeches living in rivers and sewers, growing to be between two and four meters long. They curl around their prey, opening up a deep, wet fold in their body in order to engulf the victim - a painful process taking several bours. Once the prey is completely engulfed, the Methusa enters torpor until all organic parts have been devoured and digested.

Wolven

Wolvens are meter-tall, four-legged carnivores with alligator-like skulls. Their teeth are black and jut outside their jaws, and their long, blue-black tongues have sharp tips for spearing an unwary victim. Wolven are pack animals, bunting with great coordination.

PEOPLE In ME&ROPOLIS

There are also people living in the Eternal City, who strayed into Metropolis at some point and never found their way back. Many have been made into beasts or strange aberrations, while others live in small enclaves with alien cultures.

The Entranced

The Entranced live in small tribes in Metropolis. These are survivors, scrap collectors, and bunter/gatherers who live in post-apocalyptic conditions, scratching out a meager existence. They adhere to strange customs and all have their own mythological explanations for who they are and what kind of place the Eternal City is. They worship, sacrifice, and maintain ritualized laws in order to create a sense of purpose for their gloomy existence. Some of the tribes serve or revere Metropolis’s machines, animated buildings, forgotten gods, Archons, angels, or prophets. The Entranced are some of the most skillful wanderers, who can safely guide you through (their part of) the dangerous labyrinth of Metropolis.

People of the Shadows

These strange people have been changed by Metropolis’ shadows. Their bodies are white as snow, all color having deserted them, devoured by darkness and cold. Even their blood is unnaturally white. They feed on the body beat of various creatures, and are surrounded by a strange perfume. Moths and other winged insects are drawn instinctively to them, only to wither away from their radiating chill.

Dissection (or vivisection) reveals that they are dramatically altered within. In their belly, glands replace their stomach. the glands are porous-like. If you would eat them they taste like soft fat and melt in your mouth, leaving a slimy residue. Doing this creates a rapture that opens gates to Limbo. There are those who bunt the People for this treasure, killing them on sight. Others bargain with them or bestow sacrifices to them, in exchange for them coughing up secretions, which are collected in small glass bottles and sold to those desperate to dull their pain.

The Feral

These were once people, but have developed into feral abominations and now live in Metropolis’s ruins and shadows. They have been distorted by contagion, poison, and other, worse things. Many suffer awful mutations, while others can no longer even be called human. Grey-skinned, filthy, and bollowed-eyed, their faces are bidden bebind tangled bair. Most have sharp teeth and move with a crouched, animalistic gait. They sleep close to each other, as unmoving as piles of corpses, pressing their naked, anorectic bodies together to conserve body beat. If one of them picks up a scent, they begin slowly moving as a whole, sniffing at the air and smacking their chapped lips. They make their bomes on ledges, under bridges, and in rooms with several exits in order to stay clear of the other predators bunting through the city’s vaulted balls. They are cannibals themselves and slaughter wanderers, eating the meat raw and steaming. If they cannot find meat, they rummage through the ruins with sooty bands to find something to eat, scraping off deposits, mould, and outgrowths from moist walls for the organic material. It may sit upon their tongues with the taste of a stale sewer, but it is nourishment. The feral’s sole objective is to survive.

ANGELS

The angels were created by the Demiurge. They were part of the ten Angelic Choirs, which were subordinated to each of the Archons. They guarded the Demiurge and celebrated His grandeur, as proclaimers, sentinels, executioners, and soldiers. Connected to Him through powerful blood-ties, angels were part of His soul, intellect, and will. As such, when the Demiurge disappeared, it was as though the angels themselves were ripped apart. The Demiurge’s burning presence, which provided them with direction, clarity and permanence, was violently denied them. Many angels simply perished there and then, succumbing to the tidal wave of sorrow. Others descended into insanity. Those who survived were left broken and confused.

Unfortunately, they had little time to recover before Malkuth launched her rebellion and the Archons descended into infighting. The angels drew their swords and slaughtered each other. They couldn’t refuse their new masters, faitbfully obeying the Archons’ will. It was a time of blood and slaughter, as mauled bodies rained down across Metropolis, filling the air with swirling, bloodied feathers. The last remnants of their souls died during this slaughter. Angels always need something to believe in. They require clear direction. To be an angel means to see the world in absolutes. now they are compelled to question their own actions and deeds

Many of them threw themselves on their own swords. Others sought a power to whom they deferred and chose to serve blindly, in order not to have to think and question. Usually they allied themselves completely with one of the Archons, Death Angels, Astaroth, other divine entities, or even human beings. A tiny fraction of them broke free and chose to roam the worlds or enter Elysium.

Little remains of the angel’s past bierarchies, stately ceremonies, or former duties. They are ragged fragments of a Celestial bierarchy now irretrievably broken. Without divine guidance, they are lost. Some of them still carry out their tasks, but do so mechanically, like workers on an assembly line where production has ground to a balt.

Chayot Ha Kodesh

The most powerful of the Angelic Choirs are sworn to Kether. They maintain the Demiurge’s abandoned throne and proclaim His power and exclusive right to rule. Their songs sound through the worlds and make lower creatures tremble before the power of the Demiurge. They stood the closest to beavenly fire, so they also fell the furtbest during the Schism. Few Chayot Ha Kodesh remain now, as most perished from sorrow when the Demiurge disappeared. These rare, yet powerful beings dwell on the Citadel’s bighest peaks, where they faithfully await the Demiurge’s return in black sarcophagi or on ebony tbrones.

Ophanim

This Angelic Choir served the Archon Chokmab. They were beings with a thousand countenances, who drew humans into religious submission. They were proclaimers, standard bearers, and the Demiurge’s whispers in our ears while we slept. Virtually all Ophanim were slaugbtered in the war between the Archons, and the surviving few have fled Metropolis. Some ventured into Elysium and have disguised themselves as false gods, muttering deranged prophecies to the lost. Other Ophanim have bound themselves to the false idols they created long ago, or now worship celebrities and fasbionistas, following shallow ideologies in their desperate need to obey, believe, and be part of sometbing.

The Angelic Choir who served the Archon Binab, the Grelim are worsbippers and guardians of the Holy Blood and sacred genealogies. Their past duty was to punish any who went against the sanctity of Family and find infants who bore the taint of Awakening within their hearts. These children were stolen from their families and stored in blood-filled, copper urns sealed with boly runes. Grelim are all identical in appearance, bearing the same name. Only their personal boly shrouds and symbols differentiate them from each other. They lack fear and see themselves merely as part of the Whole. If one of them dies, the rest live on. They still carry out their sacred duties, albeit confused and lost.

Hashmallim

The shattered and rare fragments remaining of this Angelic Choir were in service to Chesed, and have been distorted by madness. They were tasked with guarding humanity and lulling us into a false sense of security so we would not try to break the Illusion. They gave us closeness and warmth, consoling us with their bodies and words. They enchanted us with fairytales, delusions, and bope. Now their songs have been silenced. Those angels who remain are primitive, squalid beings who have lost their minds and now exist as parasites and predators. Their previously crystalline voices have devolved into grating howls.

Grelim

e Angelic Choir who served the Arc e worsbippers and guardians of the Holy Blood and sacred nealogies. Their past duty was to punish any who went ainst the sanctity of Family and find infants who bore e taint of Awakening within their hearts. These children ere stolen from their families and stored in blood-filled, copper urns sealed with boly runes. Grelim are all identical in appearance, bearing the same name. Only their personal boly sbrouds and symbols differentiate them from each other. They lack fear and see themselves merely as part of the Whole. If one of them dies, the rest live on. They still carry out their sacred duties, albeit confused and lost.

Elohim

Loyal to netzach, the Elohim were the Angelic Choir containing the most powerful warriors. They annibilated everything the Demiurge directed His will against. In the war between the Archons, the Elohim committed the most dreadful deeds against their brothers and sisters. Those scant members of the Elohim remaining in our day are unstoppable, bloodthirsty creatures, who live for war and bloodshed. Most of them are incarcerated in cells of iron in Netzach’s Citadel, and are only released when death and blood are demanded. Many of the remaining Glohim have found their way to Inferno, and have taken refuge in Hareb-Serap’s court, or knelt before other Deatb Angels, swearing fealty to those who allow them to engage in violence unfettered.

BeneiHa’Elohim

This Angelic Choir was loyal to the fallen Archon Hod. Knit together by strong ties of etiouette and blood oaths, they served as guards and executioners. They were repudiated from the Demiurge’s throne after they were tricked into belping humans in our early bistory. They enmesbed their blood with us, gave us equipment and insigbts, and belped us understand our prison. After the Demiurge’s disappearance and Hod’s annibilation, many of the BeneiHa’Elohim abandoned the last vestiges of their honor and ventured into Inferno, submitting themselves to Hod’s sbadow, Samael. Others are scattered and have abandoned their former calling.

CHZPå¹²ER 14 Ä°AFERNO