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The Temple of Silence [Cosnpiracy]

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  • LostLight
    started a topic The Temple of Silence [Cosnpiracy]

    The Temple of Silence [Cosnpiracy]

    The White Rebellion

    [a white, river lily]

    Once, there was an empire- a realm so ancient no mortal scribe knows it ever existed. In the height of its power, no rival nation could have stood against it for long. It's leaders knew the secrets of both Heaven and Earth, and they worked miracles so wonderful and terrible that whole countries would have burned in fire if they wished so. Yet, everything must fall- and when it fell, it was like a falling star crushing into the depths on earth. Nothing- not even a name- was left behind. By all chances, it should have been lost and forgotten, like many other civilizations who vanished through history. Yet, the realm wasn't willing to stay dead. Ancient relics rose from the sands of time once in a while, carrying with them dangerous curses and divine powers. And not only items resurfaced from the ages past. People- as much as one can call them "people"- rose from the ancient tombs, holding the powers of the gods themselves and motivated by the whispers of alien entities also awakened, establishing themselves as rulers by the name of their dark patrons. They are the Undying, the living gods who walk among man.

    This isn't right.

    They should stay asleep.

    When the empire with no name existed, no one dared to challenge it- except of once. The challenge didn't came from the outside, but from the inside. It's lords, priest kings who talked in the name of their gods, ruled in iron fist, claiming the be the only authority to bridge between man and the divine. Yet, one didn't agreed with them- a young woman, wearing only white and decorated only with flowers. She claimed to be a prophet of her own, nameless goddess. She said to her faithful that they were in danger- that her goddess has shown her a terrible future. A darkness was coming to their land, and their lords have sinned against their purpose. Their judgement was flawed, their rules were twisted. If they were allowed to stay in control over their land, the darkness would consume them for all eternity. The priests, so sure with their power, weren't even aware for the boiling rebellion, as the prophetess and her believers were waiting for the right time to strike- until their goddess sent them the sign. White flowers bloomed upon the great river, the lords were in the lowest. It was their only chance to save their land.

    They failed.

    The priest kings may have been weakened, bu they still held sorceries no man could have stood against. They killed thousands of rebels, no matter from where they came from- soldiers, slaves, artists, priests. They slaughtered them in dozens, and made a pyramid out of their bodies. At the head of the mountain of corpses, they bound the prophetess, who was still alive. Then, they spilled oil upon the morbid structure and lit it up, burning the woman alive in honor for their false gods, so no one would ever think to rebel against them again. Then, they turned against the goddess herself, doing the unthinkable- they gave her a name. She, who was once the Nameless Flower, was now Nebthet. By doing so, they bound her to their will- and they started to torment her. They destroyed her statues, broke her idols, burned her temple with fire. They broke her name, again and again, corrupting it into endless forms while twisting every syllable. Eventually, when they were sure she was no longer a threat, they through her away from her divine realm to the land of men, to suffer as a mortal woman for all eternity.

    After that, everything is already known- the empire rose and devoured itself. Its mystical god kings have vanished, and no one was remained to remember the lost land. Yet, few have survived the destruction, and inside of fewer the memories of the rebellion still survived. They, who remembered the old stories about the fall of the prophetess and witnessed her words turn into truth, hoped that at least that would be the end for the dark empire- when the goddess showed up before them again, broken and bruised from the deeds of the priest kings. She told them it was not the end- only the beginning. They destroyed their own name, and by doing so became eternal. They should stay vigilant, she said, and share her story with her children, for one day they would have to face against the threat once more.

    And she was right.

    Hundreds of years after the fall of the empire, the schemes of its dark masters still influence the world. Dangerous relics, monsters and cults stalk in the night, bringing ancient horror which was meant to be buried beneath the sand. Thankfully, the Rebellion is still alive, guided by a vassal chosen by Nephtys at each day. While she could have blessed one of her prophets with the gift of eternal life, she wouldn't- for doing so would stand against the faith of her Temple. They are there to not only protect the modern people from the past, but also help the Undying themselves. They are tired, exhausted from eternal service and meaningless existence. They can help them go back to sleep- they just need to let go. Because helping them is seen as their greatest mission, they have followed them through the globe, finding like minded individuals where ever they went. The past is dead, and they won't rest until every relic, every undying, every monster born out of the nightmares of the ancient past would close its eyes and go to its eternal sleep.

    The empire has be forgotten.

    Let's keep it that way.

    0- You have been initiated into the Temple of Silence and have been blessed with the gifts of the Nameless Flower. You gain accesses to the Coffin Ceremonies Endowment
    000- You have destroyed many relics and sang lullaby to a number of the undying, and your exposure to the weird energies of the ancient world has made you sensitive to it. You may use your Status: Temple of Silence + Occult as a dicepool to track down relics just like mummies do. That sense also track down the Undying and similar Sekhem empowered beings.
    00000- you survive many dangers and fought against the living gods themselves. The Named Flower grants you her gift of sight- first, you can always see into the ghostly frequency of the Twilight. Second, once per chapter the character can force herself into a Sybaritic Omens rolls, even without being exposed to a mummy.

    Endowment- Coffin Ceremonies (1-5)
    When initiated into the Temple, each member learns the secret rites of Nebthet- spells which are meant to put the dead to sleep. That Endowment has a number of influences. First, when preforming the ceremony upon a dead body during the burial, the character may roll her dots in the Endowment+ Occult. Success would make sure the person won't leave a ghost behind. Dramatic failure guaranties that a ghost would rise- and would feel that the character was the one to rise her. You suffer -1 modifier per day that passed since the day of death, and can use it only once.

    Second, those ceremonies may allow putting even the more active dead into asleep. Ghosts would be absorbed into their anchors. Vampires would fall into their torpor. Even the Arisen are forced into Descent Roll. By doing so, the character rolls her dots in the Endowment + Willpower against the undead's supernatural potency. Succeeding would force the undead into the appropriate "sleep" situation. Exceptional Success would double the duration (vampires would be forced to torpor like they were one Humanity dot less. Mummies would have to roll for Descent Roll twice, etc). Dramatic Failure would deal 1 level of bashing damage per dot in the Endowment to the user the the violent energies of Duat get out of control.

    The third use includes nullifying the Dread Powers of the monsters. By rolling your dots in the Ednwoment + Occult you may create a "safe zone", protected from dark magics and terrible curses. Powers who are not created from an intelligent beings (like magical items) stop functioning while in a radius of 1 meter per Endowment dot. Monsters have to roll their own Supernatural Potency (or if they lack one, their Willpower) against the character's successes if they wish to activate their powers. Failing to do so would have the monster suffer one level of lethal damage per the character's success.

    Finally, the Coffin ceremonies also have a darker use- they can control the dead. By touching a dead body and spending a Willpower, they may force the body into a semblance of life, granting it one dot in Dread Powers per their dots in the Endowment, and they exist for one hour per dot in Status: Temple of Silence. In order to do the did, the character must also roll their Endowment+Occult, with Exceptional Successes doubling the time the body exist and Dramatic Failure turns the dead against them. While doing so is possible, it is seen as a dark act in the Temple, and doing so too many times may endanger your Status and may even turn the conspiracy against you.
    Last edited by LostLight; 06-28-2015, 02:12 PM.

  • Deionscribe
    Dance of the Gods

    A river is not timeless.

    Its waters change as they flow down the land, taking and shedding aspects before joining with the sea. All the while, it nourishes many peoples along its banks, each with its own culture and identity. This was the way of things with the Nile, and the Temple of Silence has followed its example as they spread across the globe.

    Over the generations, the White Rebellion has adapted its practices to local beliefs wherever they plant roots. In Brazil, they've syncretized their old traditions with those of the Afro-Brazilian faiths, and identify Nebthet with the goddess Iemanja, in addition to worshipping other orixas like Omolu and Ossain. Similarly, the Coffin Ceremonies are invoked as sacred dances. Performers believe that they channel the gods' divine essence through themselves in order to weaken the deathless ones and other malevolent entities.

    Such adaptation and integration has left the Temple deeply entrenched in the country, and they are a valued part of the local Vigil. There is no shortage of people in need of their blessings, and the ghosts who linger are equally numerous. The Cult of the Flower finds its biggest challenge in Rio, however. Several of the Undying base themselves here, clustered around fonts of occult power. Some have adopted trappings of the local religions to ensnare their faithful into service, while others seed agents within the halls of power to accmumulate more temporal resources. Both groups are equally dangerous, and they could tear down the entire city if the tenuous accord between them unravels.

    At this, the Temple can do little but bide its time They gather what knowledge they can on the cults and their masters, forge their own alliances throughout the city, and choose their battles. For while their Vigil may be a long and dark undertaking, they are as dauntless as they have been for generations.

    After all, the river changes.

    And it always finds a way to flow.


    Azure Waves: While they oppose all Scorpion Cults in Rio, the Temple's initiates are especially at odds with one whose Undying works under the guise of Iemanja. Her cult has holdings all over the country, and they have clashed with the conspiracy time and again whenever their paths crossed. The worst of this conflict is centered around the tombs guarded by the Iemanja cult, as well as the offerings at Copacabana Beach. The Temple knows that the Undying does not confine herself to Rio, and they are keen on locating all of her boltholes and taking away her chief source of occult power in order to leave her vulnerable.

    Quench the Fires: Compared to the Undying, the Temple is not ignorant of the Iron Bull's growing power in Rio. The Named Flower has often sent visions to her followers which hint at the corruption the relic brings, though they have yet to see the full extent of its sentience. Regardless, they know enough to ward against and purge its influence whenever they encounter it.

    With the Coffin Ceremonies, a Temple initiate can roll Intelligence + Occult in an Extended action, contested by the Iron Bull's dice pool of 8. Each side makes a roll per minute, and must reach a target number equal to [11 - target's Integrity]. If the hunter reaches it first, she weakens the relic's compulsion, and removes a Condition associated with it. If the Bull succeeds first, however, it can attempt to subvert the initiate as per Modify Mortal. Mummies affected by the Iron Bull can also be released from compulsion, but it's harder to achieve due to Sybaris and the powers they possess. Substitute the mummy's Memory score for Integrity. Furthermore, the Bull adds the Undying's Sekhem as a bonus to the contested roll, and inflicts the Cursed Condition should it reach the target number first.
    Last edited by Deionscribe; 05-02-2017, 04:38 PM.

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  • Deionscribe
    Heads-up. I may do a Rio writeup for the Temple of Silence, including ideas on how their local chapter has adapted Brazilian culture into their original beliefs. Identifying Nebthet with one of the orixas is one of them.

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  • Deionscribe
    The Fall of Isireion: Song of Silence

    All things end.

    In the fullness of time, civilizations fall and dynasties are broken. They linger in the memories of the people for a time, but soon fade away like dreams in the wind. Some refuse to forget, however. They seek to not only preserve but revive it in all its glory. They fail to realize what they threaten to unleash in their attempts, that they empower forces in the shadows that should have stayed buried.

    This is what comes to pass in Ptolemaic Egypt. Cleopatra styles herself as Isis incarnate, and her reign brings forth a resurgence in both traditional culture and magical knowledge. Even as Rome's influence spreads around them and dark forces scheme in their midst, her people celebrate the old ways with the promise of a new age for their kingdom.

    History repeats itself, though, and the Temple of Silence finds itself in an all too familiar situation.

    Having come far from their humble origins as a burial cult, the successors of the White Rebellion have stayed true to their ancient mission. For over two thousand years, they have held Vigil over their homeland, putting the restless dead to sleep whenever they were needed. While this has at times made them a threat in the eyes of Egypt's vampires, the intercession of the Neferi - Kindred counted among Nephthys' priestesses - kept the cult safe from any direct attacks by the Great Covenant. Nevertheless, it finds itself dealing with other threats, some of whom are much older than the Hungry Dead.

    Though not seen in great numbers since Unas' reign, the Arisen remain in the Black Land. They plot from the safety of their hidden tombs, toiling for their dark masters and whatever rewards were promised them. And with the return of more mummies from the lands beyond, the Temple is especially vigilant as old tales of madness threaten to be relived. Why would their old adversaries risk bringing such death and destruction to Egypt once again? What could call the undying home from the four corners of the world?

    The answer they have long known terrifies them.

    The Cult of the Flower knows of the Isis prophecies. They have known since the dreams and omens began to appear in the Black Land. Priests travelled throughout the nomes, compiling and interpreting these occult symbols into a cohesive whole. By the time scrolls of the Isireion Prophecies began to circulate throughout their homeland, the Temple had pieced together enough to be certain of one thing. Osiris was to reborn, and Cleopatra - as Isis - was to birth him in this life.

    While this revelation should have united the Temple in its response, it instead fractured the White Rebellion over how they must proceed. Most oppose what the prophecies speak of, fearing that it would bring about the end were it to pass. Osiris was a god whose power eclipsed that of Nephthys, and his rebirth would herald calamities that would make what ended the Old Kingdom pale in comparison. And even if the outcome is not as cataclysmic, the masters of the Undying may rise afterwards to restore their lost empire.

    Yet, there are those among the Temple who believe that the prophecy should come true. The Mentaar, as described in the last set of scrolls, promises an end to the cycle of suffering that began thousands of years ago. The Undying would be free from their curse to finally rest and ascend to A'aru. This was what the cult had worked towards since the days of the First Turn: the final lament for the Nameless Empire. And they were obligated to see it through.

    Unable to reconcile their differences, these two factions threaten to unravel the White Rebellion in this time, and it is only thanks to a third and more moderate camp within the Temple that the cult does not crumble from infighting. However, the Cult of the Flower remains frozen with indecision for the most part as the prophecy draws closer to fruition. Sorcerer cults work to bring forth Azar's rebirth, tailoring their schemes based on their respective interpretationa. One cult plots differently, though, working to prevent the god's return by any means necessary. These men and women are followers of Seth, and are shunned and opposed by all others who have a stake in the Isireion Prophecies.

    All but a few.

    The Parangelia, as they are known, eventually gain the aid of lifeless horrors. Yet before that, they were already undermining the other cults and drawing them to their side. A few within the Temple - those who opposed the prophecies - would be counted among these allies. They shared the cause fought by the eternal foreigner's servants, and collaborated with them so that it may be realized.

    They realize their mistake too late, when Egypt eventually falls to Roman conquest.


    Temple Sorcery: While the Temple of Silence frowns upon sorcery, there are several in its ranks whose knowledge on occult lore makes them qualified practitioners nonetheless. These priests are often skilled exorcists, capable of banishing not only the dead but also demons and spirits from Duat. Some, though, train to perform rites which call on the Named Flower to guide them in shaping the world.

    Temple initiates with the Ritual Sorcerer Merit tend to possess Open Rite Mastery in Exorcism, Warding, and Binding as well as in Unveiling Sybaritic Omens. Those chosen by the goddess to be her vassals also possess Mastery in Contact and Summoning to better commune with her.

    Many Temple sorcerers also learn the Rite of Piety. Such practitioners pray not to the Arisen, but to Nebthet in her role as a protector. Similarly, those few who know the Rite of Sacred Flood perform it at the banks of the Nile under the full moon, drawing on the Named Flower's aspects as both a lunar and river goddess.

    The Immortal Coil: While the Undying are seen as beings that must be returned to their sleep, more or less, the Cult of the Flower has more nuanced views on immortals. They consider eternal life a sin against their faith, and it is made more blasphemous if attained at the cost of others. The Temple thus sees blood bathers and body thieves as dangerous individuals that must be stopped, and has often clashed with groups like the Adelfoi Aimatos and the Heads of Sekhmet to curb their actions.

    On the other hand, the cult is more lenient towards less invasive immortals. Eternals are dealt with on a case-by-case basis. Some are hunted down if their schemes endanger mortals, while others are counted among the Temple's allies. The latter are often encouraged to sunder their vessels and finally pass on, but such entreaties are rarely heeded.

    Of all the immortals, it is the Reborn that the cult favor the most. They reincarnate time and again into the world, just as the Nile floods and recedes with the seasons. These men and women are sought out by the Temple to be protected, as mummies work to enslave them whenever they appear in a given generation. That more than one Reborn was an initiate in a past life gives the cult yet another reason to take action.

    The Last Dynasty: In contrast to their ties with Egypt's previous dynasties, the Cult of Nephthys was estranged from the Ptolemies. They clung tightly to their Greek heritage, and had little in common with the people they ruled over. Cleopatra was the exception to this. Though not Egyptian by blood, her immersion in the native culture nonetheless had the people see her as one of their own. This acceptance extended to the Temple itself, who counted some of the pharaoh's advisors among its faithful.

    In fact, out of all of Egypt's rulers, it was with Cleopatra that the Cult of the Flower forged the strongest alliance. Most would see it as the natural choice, as Isis and Nephthys are sisters with shared purviews over the world. However, one with knowledge of the Isireion Prophecies would see a different reason. The Temple is well aware of Fate's plan for Cleopatra, and they are investing much of their resources to stop any and all attempts to manipulate her. Thus, the Cult of the Flower is perhaps one of the greatest obstacles a mummy - or any other supernatural, for that matter - can face when trying to influence the Queen of Kings.
    Last edited by Deionscribe; 04-08-2017, 07:26 AM.

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  • Deionscribe
    To the Strongest

    [Reserved for Write-Up]

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  • Deionscribe
    The Mighty Despair

    [Reserved for Write-up]
    Last edited by Deionscribe; 04-05-2017, 05:24 PM.

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  • Master Aquatosic
    Always a pleasure to see a new homebrew from you, LostLight. L'chaim v'l'maveth! And I can even see multiple potential Civil Wars with this one. Ploooot hoooks!

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  • Deionscribe
    I actually got some new notes for the Temple based on the Cleopatra Era in Dark Eras Companion. I'm not sure if I should post them here, though, when it hasn't even come out.

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  • Deionscribe
    I am definitely liking this addition. For a moment, I thought it was another piece of the Heretic's testimony, but then I saw the word 'temakh' and saw that it was one of the Deceived.

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  • LostLight
    Dreams of Avarice- Flowers Upon a Bloody River

    Found carved to a cave's wall in the Negev desert, translated from ancient Iremite, attributed to an individual called "the Star Prophet"

    "As I write those words, I feel my Temakh fury in my Sekhem. I hear the songs of his rage feeling my body, wishing to shatter my bones and rip my soul to shreds. Yet, I can see the light of A'aru burning above me, leading me away from the Suffering and toward my role as a name ascribed upon the Scroll of Ages. Fate sings to me, and its voice drown my Temakh's with starry light. However, in order to be with Fate, I must not be bound to this world. I banished my cult and left my treasures, roaming this vast desert untouched by the light of Re- yet my past keeps drawing me toward the shadow where the Devourer still hungers. I must leave that song behind, so I could keep toward the celestial spheres and walk among the stars. No more my life would be bound to the tyranny and whims of the gods. No more my song would be sang by another- my song belongs to Fate, and its heavenly music feels my ears. I walk toward the light, my star finally being woven to the tapestry from which it was torn.

    Yet, before that, I must write down those words.

    My body ache as I do so- not only because of my Temakh's rage and the Sekhem which boils with it, but as I accept the memories of the past which I've denied. My soul wished to forget those horrors, and gladly let my Temakh bind it with its clutches. As long as I deny the past, I deny Fate's work and grow bitter toward it. I must accept my life- both the good and evil- as part of Fate's plan, else the song of the past would blind me for all eternity. This is what Fate demands from me, and I'll gladly accept the price- and who knows? Perhaps that song would eventually lead others toward the path of eternity.

    The words which burns inside of me come from when I was still alive, when Irem stood strong and we bowed our heads before the Shan'iatu and their judgement. For long time they ruled openly and their might was unrivaled- they were the ones to speak with the gods and translate their will, and as such their rule was absolute. I, who was chosen for my beautiful voice, kept sang the glories of my Shan'iatu, standing outside of his palace day and night. Usually I was ignored, but from time to time I've heard a song calling back- and I knew he was listening. Yet, as time passed, the Shan'iatu has started to withdraw from the world, and we who were chosen by them were meant to supervise the Empire in their place. It went well, at first- but then we heard rumors, whispers from the shadows, whispers we ignored- but we should have listened to. A rebellion was brewing beneath the surface.

    It has all started with a single woman- I can not recall her name, for she has never used it. I believe she was a slave who managed to escape her owners, or perhaps a foreigner who managed to infiltrate Irem in the shadows. I've never met her myself- but the slaves were talking about her. They claimed her to be a priest, a messenger for a goddess. They said she spoke the will of Nebtet, the River of Blood, and that our deeds and way of life were wrong. That the Shan'iatu were impostors and tyrants. That if we kept walking that path, only ruin would wait for us. According to her, slaves were not meant to suffer, for people were suppose to walk free beneath the sky and choose their own place in the world.

    Ridiculous, I thought to myself.

    As we all knew, only the Shan'iatu were able to speak with the gods. No mortal could see their glory directly, not to mention a woman and a runaway slave nonetheless. Not to mention that Nebtet was lesser among the gods, a river which flowed to Duat with no interest among the living. I ignored the slaves, and kept singing to the glory of my Shan'iatu- not noticing the new spark in those slave's eyes. I may have knew the truth- but they didn't, and I did not notice they started to sing a song of their own which brought a discord to my voice. A lullaby for our gods, a requiem for our Empire. One day, almost all of the slaves have vanished, leaving their chores behind. From what I've heard, they gathered around the River's bank, surrounding that woman in white who rose he hands and asked for a sign from her goddess to go and fight the tyrants of the Empire. According to the rumors, flowers covered the River that day, a symbol of her goddess- yet as we all know, it is a lie. Nebtet's color is blood red, not white flower. Yet, the slaves did not knew, or cared. The rebellion has started, holding improvised weapons and crude stones. Blessed by powers they should not have, they broke into the palaces and bypassed our defenses. On each one of us they killed, a score of theirs was massacred- yet they were many, and under the leadership of that woman, they managed to get into the most scared rooms and face the Shan'iatu themselves.

    And they were obliterated by them.

    No all slaves has participated in the rebellion, and not all rebels were killed- the woman who led them to their doom was among the survivors, the only one who managed to survive the rage of a true prophet with means unknown. Yet, she was captured, and was held in a cage separate from the others- for if she was one with her underlings, she would have been killed by them. I didn't saw her- but I've heard she didn't cried or flinched before the pain, even as the Shan'iatu broke her bones and healed them in seconds, letting her feel the true Suffering of the Law. Yet, we didn't dealt with the problem- what we had to do with so many rebellious slaves? What would be the outcome of that rebellion?

    The Hymn for Ammut was the answer.

    I sang that song like many others, and for the first time in years my Shan'iatu got out of his palace. He thanked me for my faithfulness, for even as the state was dear I kept singing for him, and my voiced never wavered- and as such he wished to give me a reward, and I was delighted. He asked my to follow him, and I did, walking over the blood which was yet to dry and the corpses which were left to rot in the streets. Eventually, we came to our destination- in the plaza of our city, a mountain stood: one made not from Geb's flesh, but from human bodies. A mountain of corpses of those who dared to rebel against the true priests of the gods in the name of a false prophet. On on the top of that macabre site- I finally saw her. She still wore her white dress, even if it was torn and dirty, and her eyes kept watching toward the horizon as Re descendant under the might of the Judges. White flowers decorated her hair, somehow still alive even after all the torture she went trough. My Shan'iatu rose his voice and sang a song, and I followed him- he claimed the woman as an heretic, a false priest and a sorceress who used stolen powers to lead other astray from the path of the Law. He sang her as guilty of forbidden sorcery, of lies, of missus of power. He sang 42 crimes which he claimed her guilty of, and than damned her and all of her faithful to Ammut, so they would feed Her forever and ever. And with that, the mountain turned to flames, devouring the corpses with great hunger.

    And then, she started singing.

    I didn't understood the words- they were not in Iremite, but in a different, foreign language- yet I understood the meaning. She sang about freedom and will, about hope and renewal. She sang a prayer from Irem and its people, that may the desert cover their horrors and let them sleep without linger by their crimes. She sang her own Requiem, as if she knew that the Empire was bound to fall. There was no hate or desire for vengeance in her voice- only sadness, and endless sorrow.

    She was meant to become of Ammut, yet she did not. She was found guilty, yet escaped her punishment. This was not meant to happen- for even if she was righteous, the weight of so many dead souls was suppose to drawn he soul in the River of Blood she claimed as patron and force her into the Devourer's maw. Yet, now, that Fate has shined through my memories, I remember that in my Deathless sleep, as I moved through the currents of the Bloody River, I saw a lone, white flower rising from its crimson waters. Now, I can see how at every sleep I had, I saw the flower growing, gaining sustenance from the River of Blood. She is a goddess, now- for those who survived still call her name, and her song is still heard, luring all toward their endless sleep. She, who lacked a name before, took the one of her goddess- for she is Nebtet, the Named Flower who grow upon the Bloody River, escaping both Will and Law by the name of Fate- for as Sutek cried the Rivers, she was destined to be one with it.

    I see it now, as Fate embrace me with its cold light. I can see the net of event which bound it all together, written in the stars of A'aru in the beginning of time. Fate writes what would be, Fate wrote what was. I'm leaving my regrets behind to join Fate, and write it upon this wall to release me from its endless desire.

    I regret that I won't hear her song ever again.

    And now, I am the song of Fate"
    Last edited by LostLight; 04-14-2016, 09:07 AM.

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  • LostLight
    two more, and a sum up post

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  • Deionscribe
    And how many do you have left on your list, if I may ask?

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  • LostLight
    That's the plan- I just need to finish Project O-X first. I also plan other sidebars for current orgs once I'll get Dark Eras.

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  • Deionscribe
    Hey there. Any chance we can see a new sidebar here in response to content from Dreams of Avarice?

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  • LostLight
    Hunters of the First Turn: Seeds of the Named Flower
    The group that would come to be known as the Temple of Silence was formed just as Irem sank to Duat. Following the last words of their goddess, Nebthet's priests grouped together as a small burial cult, preparing the dead in a way that their sleep would not be disturbed while their souls flowed peacefully to the Underworld. Their work was extremely important, since the lone survivors were easy prey to various predators, vampires among them.

    Drawn to the shattered community, the proto-Clans of North Africa saw them as an easy prey. But the ceremonies of Nebthet's faithful allowed them to protect their people. That early meeting created the twofold way the Kindred would come to see the cult - either as a threat, or as a hope. Those who saw the cult as the latter were drawn to it, seeking to relieve themselves from their pain. Chief among them were the first of the Neferi, who would come to protect the cult's followers from other Kindred of the Black Land.

    After a time, though, their influence declined. The Cult was never more than a small group with more interest in the dead than the living, and they weren't interested in the deeds of warlords and leaders.

    All that changed with the discovery at Abdju. Remembering the old traditions, the priests of the Named Flower protested against unearthing the secrets at the hill of relics. They claimed that those who disturb the dead would suffer from great curses, and even stopped offering their services to those who joined the diggings. However, the kings of Upper Kemet simply turned to the forming Scorpion Cult instead, leaving Nebthet's influence to decrease further as time went on.

    Things changed for the better when Imhotep came along. With his guidance, the people of Egypt left the ruins of Irem behind, and looked forward to the future under the light of the sun. The Cult of the Flower supported this shift, and soon found themselves in a place of power. Their goddess was soon proclaimed as the nursing mother of Heru, and thus the mother of the Pharaoh himself.

    From an almost unknown burial cult, they became closely tied to the other priesthoods. They offered their help to the cults of Re, Heru and many other gods, guiding the souls of their faithful. This further strengthened Nebthet's aspect as a protector deity, earning her the epithet of "Excellent Goddess".

    The Cult's status in Imhotep's court also influenced its relationships with the Hungry Dead. Many of the Kindred, those who cleaved to the laws of the Per Henet, warily kept their distance. Other vampires, though, flocked to their shrines in search for guidance. Those wishing for a "peaceful sleep" implored the mortal priesthood, while those who sought the warm embrace of Nebthet came to the Neferi.

    When Sothis Ascended for the first time since Irem's fall, things went out of control. Unas, who never had much respect to the old traditions of the cult, banished them from the palace when they said they could not (and will not) save his child. The dark deed performed by his Shuankshen adviser further drove them into hiding, lest they be targeted by the Lifeless monster.

    And it did not end there. Soon, the Arisen awoke, rising from their Tombs in great numbers een as the priests sought to uncover more on their unknown adversary. Many immediately were struck by prophetic dreams, visions of broken Pillars and terrible judgement. The sudden rush of Sekhem, coupled with the lack of knowledge of these new horrors, has left the cult more confused than ever. They need time to refine their newfound senses and understand their visions, time to make a new strategy and deal with the rising darkness. But time may not be on their side, especially as old enemies stir after years of waiting. After all, the Hungry Dead do not forget, nor do they forgive.

    (for more information about vampires, hunters and more in the First Turn, see the Age of Azar)

    Last edited by LostLight; 03-02-2016, 04:44 AM.

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