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34th Session
And welcome back to the final branch of the chronicle. The first of (most likely) six sessions which should serve as epilogue to this almost year long chronicle. If you're been keeping up to date with the story so far then well done you! I'm so glad you've been enjoying it. Let's see if we can pull off a graceful finish to things.
Aaron’s player probably won’t be around until the session after this, and I have a sneaking suspicion that Lydia’s player is gone for good. I’m still keeping her story hooks in the game just in case she sporadically turns up before the end of the game. I’m not counting on it though.
Cast List
Alfred Camlan: Excalibur Mage
Sean “Sam” Heath: Templar Knight
Helen Walter: Hermetic Spy
Joe Hanson: Noir Detective
Notable NPCS Include:
Eve: Helen's Mentor
Belladonna: Celtic Euthanatos
--- CHAPTER 34: THE FIRST DAY OF YULE---
[ST NOTE: Alfred’s player put a lot of his downtime points into Arete, so this is how his seeking went. He’d been walking about the umbra for several weeks, searching for the Great Planes to retrieve the Surtur’s sword for the Norns. He came across the Sword in the Stone, his own avatar who would ask if believed he was ready to wield it. Alfred said yes and made to grab it but it disappeared, leaving him in a field with a great lake before him and an encroaching army over the hills. Within the lake was the sword, Excalibur. Alfred would have to dive into the lake and get it. As he went, he would slowly lose health levels until he goes unconscious. It would be impossible to get the sword and stay conscious. If he gave up at any point, he’d return to the surface and face the army head on. The lesson here was resolve, and Alfred had it, reaching out for the hilt just as he got to his health level.
I then played a little cutscene where he felt himself be raised in the air, hear a woman’s voice speak, saying he had a “warrior’s resolve” and have a vague smell of apples linger until he woke up, sword in hand, at the bottom of a lake. Swimming out of it brought him back to the Great Plains, Surtur sword in hand, once more ablaze.]
Alfred met with the Norns to uphold his deal, and they revealed to him that Vivian’s fate was sealed by them, they had brought the threads which threw her across the umbra. Alfred bowed and apologised for not returning their favour sooner, and they left. Alfred would return to find the coven as bitterly divided as ever. He began to make plans for the coming Yule festival as acting High Priest, when he saw a letter from his Grandfather.
“Dear Alfred
I speak on behalf of all of our family when I say we are worried for you. News of the happenings in London has spread further than you may think, and everyone here agrees that, even more so than normal, this city is not a safe place to remain within. I’ve told you a thousand times that this lifeless city is awash with technocrats obsessed with controlling every aspect whatever they can find, and crushing any form of life or magic of the face of the earth, but each warning was met with disregard. Now you speak of Nephandi, Marauders, as well as Technocrats all in the same breath. What more evidence do you need before you realise this accursed city is no place for out kind to live.
While we are all impressed to hear you’ve done so well with the Keepers of the Wyck. I must admit I have concerns extra to that I have written about above; concerns about how ready you are for such a demanding position as High Priest. It took me many years of practice before I was ready to take up such a role, yet you have not been with the coven a full season yet, and they have already laid this great responsibility at your feet. Do you not realise what is required? The rites that are to be made and learned, the supplies that one must keep, the knowledge of all things spiritual and medicinal, the great number ancient tongues, the many varied stories of the gods, the exact timing of the stars, the proper way to treat and care for a node, not to mention the duties one must perform with the High Priestess; do you really think you are ready for such a role, especially with the coven in as fragile a form as you claim it to be? There must be someone more experienced available to take up such a demanding position. Gwyn perhaps? I’m sure that Vivian had the best of intentions when she made her decision, but one cannot know another quite like family does, and we simply are not sure if you are ready for such a challenging task, especially in as dangerous a place as this. Think of your High Priestess. Does she not deserve someone more familiar with the expectations of the role to help her adjust? If it was just you under Vivian’s guidance, then perhaps it may have been possible, but with the both of you figuring out how to walk while trying to run a coven, surely you can see that it is a recipe for disaster. Please do not be disheartened. We are only thinking about what is best for you.
In addition, while it is noble to wish to fight your enemies on their own doorstep, besides the danger of it all, which I cannot emphasise enough, it is also quite a distraction from what you should really be focusing on, the search for the Great and Noble King. Your visions of Excalibur are encouraging, though I think your meeting with The King should be note with caution. In all my years of searching I have never one seen His Majesty appear before me, so I find it highly suspect that this would happen in London of all places. Perhaps once you come home, I’ll have Cousin Meredith pay a visit to examine your mental aura. If all is well, then we’ll see if your visions return, and if so, it is then that we can examine them for insight with greater clarity.
Alfred, my Grandson, I understand if you need some time to smooth things over with the Keepers before you return to where you belong, but I must advise haste. The longer you stay in this wretched city, the greater the danger you will be. Already a number of us have consulted the stars and can see a great shadow looming over you. Please heed our warnings and return to us. Your return will be a time of much celebration, and I’m sure your experiences will be a great boon to our community.
Berenabus
P.S – If you heed nothing else of my warnings, heed this. Beware this Hermetic girl, this Helen Walter you speak of. Blood carries more than simple ancestry, and hers is the blood of a very dangerous and perverse set of technocrats. Already her actions have proved she cannot be trusted. This girl is dangerous, and I suggest you cut all ties with her immediately. Bad blood simply cannot be taught.”
Alfred shook his head. He knew telling his grandfather the details of his time in London would cause some concern, but he never expected this. Alfred conceded that they did have a point, but then he never thought he would be the High Priest for long, just long enough to keep the coven together and see them through this difficult time.
Hanson had a lot to consider. First was the case of Helen’s parents. “Fox mum” was with Helen, and he was pretty sure searching for whatever happened to her dad would involve going deep into a technocratic base, so that investigation was on hold for the moment. Second was Dubois, though Hanson hadn’t had any leads for that in months and had exhausted all his contacts, so that too was being put on hold.
Something else did catch his attention though. The papers over the last few days wrote on a number of suicides, but there was something about them that didn’t seem right. In his experience, suicides tended to be private things, done in the most discrete locations like a bathroom or a garage. But these were out in the open in the middle of the day. Hanson couldn’t help but feel there was more to it than the papers lead on.
But then there was the matter of his deal with Mr Steed, the reason he got his office back, surveillance free as far as he knew. Aaron had been missing for months, no sign of him since the heath, and if his debut on the news as a terrorist was any indication, he would be very difficult to find. But a deal was a deal, and he at least had to look like he was making an effort, so he decided to head out to Aaron’s old apartment in Shoreditch.
Helen had a very rough few nights. In order to hide away from any Technocratic eyes, she’d been staying almost exclusively at the Hermetic Chantry in the centre of London. Her room was rather small, but served her well enough. It turned out sneaking her fox in was the easy part, keeping it hidden required a great deal of energy. She spent almost the entire day on highly geometric rituals to create a number of effects, one Mind effect to keep the fox docile and relaxed, and a Forces effect to make its movements and cries as silent as possible. She hoped this would be enough to prevent prying eyes from looking into her room, especially her mentor, though it did mean a bad night’s sleep the following day.
Today, she planned to speak with Eve. Her new rank came with an extra deal of work keeping her bound to her desk most days, but it also provided an extra degree of influence. Helen had two things to speak with her about, the first was a follow up on a request she had made earlier in the month to visit Boris in his prison cell. This was one of the terms of the agreement made with Alfred, to grant meeting with Boris as soon as possible so Alfred may converse. The second was more of a long shot. Alfred had told her that the understanding of Life required to transform her mother back to human was far above anything either of them were capable, but there was a rumour going around the chantry that a Hermetic Master of Life was providing a guest lecture soon. She wasn’t sure how, but perhaps there was a chance she could gain his favour.
She enters Eve’s Office.
Helen: Hello? Eve?
Eve: Helen? Are you not going back to Scotland for the holidays?
Helen: No, I’ll be staying here.
Eve: Ah, very good. Then we can continue our lessons tomorrow.
Helen: There’s something I’d like to ask.
Eve: What is it?
Helen: I wanted to know if everything’s set up for visiting the Keeper’s High Priest.
Eve: Oh that, yes, you should have your visit in two days. Just arrive at the Tribunal hall and follow their instructions, someone from House Quaesitor will be there to meet you.
Helen: Good. There’s one more thing. I’ve heard there’s a master of Life coming to visit.
Eve: Yes. Magister Scholae Armando Sinclair bani Flambeu.
Helen: Could I meet with them?
Eve: Magister Scholae don’t tend to meet with initiates.
Helen: I was just wondering if I could attend his lecture.
Eve: I don’t think that will be possible, his lectures are only for those who have attained the 6th rank at least. Besides, it would be rather advanced for your level.
Helen: I just really want to increase my understanding of life.
Eve: I thought you were more interested in expanding your understanding of the Ars Conjuctionalis. Now you’ve barely began your studies and you’re thinking of switching once again?
Helen: I just really want to increase my understanding.
Eve: I appreciate that. And truly I am very impressed with how seriously you’ve been taking your studies since you returned.
Helen: You would be able to attend the lecture for me.
Eve: I might, if I could find the time for it.
Helen: Then could you please speak with him? Perhaps introduce me?
Eve: I really couldn’t say.
Helen: Please Eve.
Eve: Helen. He is from House Flambeu. We are just House Jerbiton, one of the Miscellanea Houses. Do you really think someone of his importance would pay us any attention? Why are you so desperate to speak with them anyway?
Helen: I just really want to understand the sphere of Life much better, and I really think he can help.
Eve: …I’ll see what I can do. Now if you please, I need to catch up on my writing.
Helen: Thank you.
Eve: And get a proper night’s sleep this time. I expect to see you for your lessons first thing 7am.
Helen leaves quickly, with plans to rush to Alfred to inform him about the prison visit.
Alfred was dealing with a slight issue in the coven.
Kael: I’m not sure it’s a good idea him staying here this long is all.
Alfred: Kael, this man risked everything to help us. I trust him more than anyone.
Kael: But for three whole months? Surely he would wish to be with his own kind.
Alfred: He is in hiding from his “own kind”, for the very things he did to aid us.
Kael: Then surely that means they are searching for him. The Chorus are likely to be drawn here, and drag us back into another Tribunal for holding him.
Sean: They do not know I am here.
Unbeknownst to Kael, Sean had heard every word spoken. He didn’t blame them for his caution, but at the same time didn’t wish to find another place to stay.
Alfred: Perhaps we should address him directly. Sam, are you in hiding?
Sean: I am not.
Kael: And the chorus are not looking for you then?
Sean: The Chorus, no. I do not believe so.
Kael: Well then, if you are not in hiding. May I invite you to join us for this Yule ceremony?
Sean: Certainly.
Alfred stared at Sean with surprise and joy. He never expected that he would agree to attend one of their rituals.
Kael: Good, High Priest, if you may? We should start preparations while there is still some light left.
Alfred had a plan in mind for the days of Yule which started tonight, the night of the winter solstice. They would travel to Epping forest, the location of a fairly weak node as recorded in their book of shadows. There, they will perform the solstice rites which would be proceeded by another 5 days of ceremony. He hoped that such activity would allow him ample opportunity to watch over every member in case they revealed themselves to be linked with the Spirals, but also thought such a ceremony may bring his fractured coven together. He chose Epping forest because of how relatively out of the way it was. Going back to Hampstead Heath would give them too much attention.
The Coven still consisted of the same remaining members, with one addition. Alfred decided to initiate one of Lydia’s old students, Rowan, who frequently attended the open circle, despite not being an awakened mage.
The coven gathered their tools and materials and left with Sean in tow towards the exit of Churchil Gardens, where Alfred noticed a girl with silvery short hair running towards him. Realising it was Helen, he quickly ushered his coven to head away before him. He did not want any of them to see him still dealing with the girl who almost destroyed his coven.
Alfred: Helen, what are you doing here?
Helen: I have news. The prison visit for Boris will be in two days.
Alfred: Two days? That’s actually pretty good.
Helen: There are rules though, we’ll have to leave foci behind, and we’ll need to be watched, two guards to each visitor.
Alfred: Makes sense… I can imagine how often visitors must have attempted jailbreaks
Helen: Also, do you have any more ideas on how to bring my mother back?
Alfred: No, Helen. I have already told you this ritual is far beyond my experience to break.
Helen: You promised you would help me though.
Alfred: I have helped you, by translating the ritual.
Helen: Do you think it would make it easier if we returned to the site the ritual took place?
Alfred: Perhaps, where was that?
Helen: A forest in north whales.
Alfred: No, I couldn’t leave my coven for that long. Even with the pathways it would take a full day to complete a round trip, and that’s assuming we even find the exact spot.
Helen: So there’s nothing you can do then.
Alfred: I have already done a considerable amount for you, especially if you factor in what you have done to us.
Helen left, somewhat dejected to return to her studies. Her only real hopes seemingly lay with this master.
About 10 acolytes from the Open Circle joined the Keepers as they gathered by the node in Epping Forrest, a number of iron-age forts which held an ancient resonance. Alfred directed the group and together dug a ceremonial pit. Kael and Gwyn passed mead around to those not digging. Mica set up her machines to make the digging much easier for everyone as Kael grumbled about her methods. Sean stood by and watched, not too sure exactly what was going on, but accepted the cup of mead handed to him. The sweet taste surprised him by how pleasant it was. Sean had spent a good deal of time with these pagans, and this was the first of their ceremonies he’d ever attended. With Christmas fast approaching, it gave him a small amount of comfort to see even these pagans held such a strong sense of community. With the pit wide enough to accommodate each of them, Alfred instructed his coven and the open circle to proceed with the ritual, which included a number of prayers to the gods, and a goat sacrifice. Round about the time they began to smear the blood around the ritual site with sticks, Sean decided that this was probably a good time to leave. There was only so much heresy one can take in a day.
Hanson arrived at Hanson’s old apartment. It had been a while since he looked about here and he wasn’t certain what to expect. He rung the buzzer.
Voice: Hello?
Hanson: Hi, is there an Aaron Gibson here?
Voice: Who’s this?
Hanson: I’m just looking for an Aaron Gibson, he used to live here.
Voice: You’re looking for someone in the flat?
Hanson: Yes… Is he in?
Voice: I’ll just buzz you up.
Hanson ascended the stairs and knocked at the door, a rather scruffy looking person answered.
Guy: Hello?
Hanson: Hi, I was just outside, asking about someone here.
Guy: Oh… Who was that again?
Hanson: Aaron Gibson…
Guy: Nope, don’t know him.
Hanson: He used to be a tenant here.
Guy: So he’s the reason my deposit’s so high.
Hanson: How do you mean?
Guy: I was told the last guy before me wrecked the place.
Hanson: I’m guessing you’re a the new tenant then.
Guy: Yeah, moved in a few weeks ago. Not bad for London.
Hanson: Do you by any chance have contact with the landlord?
Guy: Sure, what’s this for again?
Hanson: Investigation.
Guy: Oh, so you’re like with the police then?
Hanson: Not exactly, I’m a private detective.
While talking to the man, Hanson peaked into the room and noticed a scrap of fabric attached to the counter, and a pair of shoes still in place stuck to the floor of the kitchen area.
Walking away from the building, he called the Landlord to ask him what he knew about Aaron’s whereabouts.
Landlord: Oh you’re looking for him are you? Well, you tell him that he owes me at least two months worth of rent, and and extra £500 on top of that for expenses!
Hanson: What happened?
Landlord: The state of this apartment, I’ve never seen anything like it. Furniture piled up, Boots superglued to the floor, Rat droppings everywhere, I distinctly told him no pets. And on top of that, I got a bunch of police looking about because, here’s a shock, the guy turns out to be a cyber terrorist!
Hanson: Wow.
Landlord: Yeah, you can never really know someone can you. Anyway, that’s just been a big nightmare to deal with. Police cars make house viewings really difficult you know.
Hanson: So you have no idea where he is then?
Landlord: If I did, I tell you, I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to you.
Hanson: Ok… thank you.
A dead end. Aaron certainly knew how to hide. Without a lead, Hanson decided to postpone this investigation and head towards a few of these suicide spots.
The pit was ready, and properly prepared with the blood of their sacrifice. Though Alfred was saddened by Sean’s sudden departure, he continued on regardless. They all brought their glasses and Alfred prepared to lead them in their toasts. The first would be to Odin, for Victory and Power to the King, the second for the Good Harvests and peace, the third for the king himself, Alfred planned to make this one towards King Arthur but tried to be subtle about it, and the fourth would be for those who were lost, a solemn moment to contemplate their lost leaders, Boris and Vivian.
Sean was part way across the forest when he overheard a group of rowdy men walking the opposite way. He slowed his pace as he overheard their shouts.
“I saw them come in here, those satanists off the news”
“Yeah, show that terrorist scum what we think of that”
“See how they like it when the bombs put on them!”
“Get em good.”
Sean was about to let them go without intervening, knowing the Verbena perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, until he noticed what they were holding, glass jars and bottles filled with transparent liquid. This was not something he could leave up to chance. Sean followed them, trying to stay hidden, but it wasn’t long before they looked in his direction.
Guy: Hey! What you looking at?
Sean: Who me?
Guy: You following us or something?
Sean: I’m just having a walk.
Guy: Yeah? Well piss off!
Other guy: Leave him Harry, he’s not worth it.
Sean walked away, intending to circle around and follow from a distance. As he walked through the forest he noticed one of these men following behind him.
OGuy: Hey, sorry about that.
Sean: Its… alright.
OGuy: Gotta be careful though, there’s a bunch of satanists like from off the news nearby.
Sean: I see…
OGuy: We were going to go drive them out, you seem like a good guy, want to help out?
Sean: …certainly.
Sean followed the man who led them on the road to the group, steadily approaching ritual site.
Alfred had just lead everyone through the second toast. Alfred looked up in time to see what looked like a small stream of fire hurtling towards them, the dim moonlight casting the silhouette of a bottle. With the safety of his people at the forefront of his mind, Alfred interrupted this ritual to cause a great number of vines to shoot up from the ground below, forming a shield of sorts before them. The bottle collided with the vines, and immediately erupted into flames. Fire and broken glass fell from the vines in drops as panic amassed about Alfred’s acolytes.
Hanson had three places in mind to check out. The first was by the thames on the west, the first recorded suicide, the body was found washed up on the bank at low tide several days ago. Arriving at the bank, he brought out his notepad and started writing down everything he noticed, trying to sense patterns of order in the maelstrom of chaos. He could sense the place the body ended up, but without Time it was difficult to tell how long it was there, or when they died. But he could get the sense of a certain precision to the events, and even the remnants of a kind of compulsion.
Moving on to the second location, the side of Tower Bridge, the site of a suicide reported just this morning. Here he could feel out a direction, almost a tube of order going down from the side of the bridge to the river below it. The trajectory of a jump; this was where the guy must have fallen. Again he could sense a precision to the events, as though something or someone were orchestrating these events.
Lastly, we came to the third body in the loading area behind a supermarket. Though it was the most recently found, it’s likely, Hanson thought, that it died quite a bit before the bridge jumper. The site here was still under active investigation, though Hanson was able to slip past the police with his perception filter to get a good look for himself. The body was still on the ground, a pool of dried blood beneath it, their hand tightly grasping strange knife which was deeply embedded within their chest. As with the other sites, he could sense that same feel of precision, of compulsion, and of deliberate intent. It was enough to question whether these were suicides at all. He could feel this knife had a great deal of significance about it. Carefully, he approached the body and pulled out the knife and swiftly walking well away from the scene before anyone noticed he was there. Upon examining it he noticed the hilt had an interesting design to it, a helical curve, culminating in a spiral at the bottom edge.
Hanson returned to his office, but stops. He can hear someone beyond the door, waiting for him perhaps. He took a quick drink from his flask and concentrated on the mind behind this door, tried to listen to whatever surface thoughts there were. “Come in, detective.” Was all he found. With little else to go on, he opened the door.
There stood Belladonna. One of the Aided, the celtic euthanatos, the woman he briefly saw at the Tribunal all those months ago.
Belladonna: Good evening.
Hanson: To what do I owe this break in?
Belladonna: I’ve heard you’ve been trying to meet with Euthanatos mages.
Hanson: For a while, I was.
Belladonna: Looking for Violet Dubois, yes?
Hanson: I take it you know her.
Belladonna: Yes, very sloppy mage if I recall. Arrogant too, puts far too much emphasis on flair rather than focussing on getting the job done.
Hanson: Do you know what happened to her?
Belladonna: I believe she has been taken by a group of nephandi.
Hanson: I thought as much…
Belladonna: Yes, as I said, sloppy. Had she not been so eager to break holes through space, she may have instead made it easier to keep herself hidden. By all accounts, I believe she has brought this upon herself. But I am concerned about what these nephandi may be planning.
Hanson: Do you know much about the Spirals of Madness.
Belladonna: I know that names among the nephandi are fluid. They only last for as long as they are useful for their goals. The legacy of the fallen is in the destruction they cause, not the names and titles they obtain. As such, these things are of little import or value to them.
Hanson: Well, the nephandi I dealt with called themselves the Spirals of Madness. We managed to stop them summoning an elder god
Belladonna: Yes, I am aware of them. I was at the tribunal with these Keepers of the Wyck on trial. Their High Priestess was a fool to let their influence grow under her for so long. Had I known about it, had she come to me, I would have done the job for her long ago. But as it stands… What happened to Vivian marks as karmic justice enough.
Hanson: Be that as it may, I’m not convinced the Spirals are actually gone yet.
Belladonna: Wise, the nephandi are never truly gone. Even death merely delays them.
Hanson: Did you happen to see the painting Dubois left behind?
Belladonna: She had a lot of paintings, not that I took the time to look through them. I never really understood fine art. I prefer the bardic arts myself.
Hanson: How about these suicides. Know anything about them?
Belladonna: Death is always on the mind of a Euthanatos mage.
Hanson: uh… not to be rude, but that doesn’t really answer my question.
Belladonna: I have. Though I have not been able to learn much.
Hanson: Well, I found this at one of the victims.
Hanson showed her the knife he took, and Belladonna stared at it in shock.
Hanson: Do you know this?
Belladonna: Yes… I have seen this before.
Hanson: By the nephandi? The Spirals?
Belladonna: For their rituals, though they used a different name.
Hanson: What can you tell me?
Belladonna: Detective… No… I don’t suppose but. Have you heard the legend of the Green Fairy of Ireland?
Hanson: Not really…
Belladonna: I see… Many say it’s just a children’s tale, but there is a darker story behind it, lost in its many retellings.
Hanson: And how does that tie in to this?
Belladonna: I would not wish to mislead your investigation. It may be entirely unrelated, I do not know just yet.
Hanson: It’s just, there was one person I knew who mentioned this Green Fairy. Lydia, said she was looking for her, had something to do with her father.
Belladonna: Do you know where this person is?
Hanson: No. I haven’t seen her over the last three months.
Belladonna: I see… If she does turn up, I would be interested in talking to her.
Hanson: Should I give you this (holding out the knife)
Belladonna: Yes. That would make things easier.
She takes the knife out of his hands and places it in her own robes.
Hanson: Sure, if it helps you find out where Violet it.
Belladonna: I understand you may have some affection for her, but in many ways I believe she deserves what’s coming to her. Her attitude made such attacks inevitable. No, I only wish to find out where these nephandi are hiding and what they are planning before it’s too late to stop it.
Hanson: Understandable.
Hanson gets up and walks to his drinks cabinet.
Hanson: So, shall I contact you if I find anything.
Belladonna: That would be much appreciated detective. Have a good night.
Hanson: Would you like anything to drink, by the way?
Hanson turns, but Belladonna is nowhere to be seen. All he could sense of her presence was a subtle shift in mental perception, much like his own filter effect. This deadly mind mage had already made her hidden exit.
---NOTES---
If you’re wondering what happened to Alfred and the coven, that’s covered in the next session. Alfred’s player had to leave early, so we thought we’d just pause that moment and finish it off first thing the following week.
Incidentally, Here’s everyone’s current spheres:
Helen: Corr 1, Forces 3, Life 3, Mind 2
Sean: Corr 2, Matter 4, Prime 3
Alfred: Life 3, Mind 3, Spirit 3
Hanson: Entropy 3, Forces 3, Mind 3
I’ll put up Aaron’s once I go over downtime exp with Aaron’s player.
Lastly, I thought I’d share with you Helen’s newly appointed Hermetic True Name:
Aileen Helen Walter Daina Freya, bani Jerbiton, Guardian of the Justice, Whisperer of the Nine Stars, Maiden of the Shapes and Shadows, Fighter of the Will, Reminiscence of the Forgetables, In Caligine Abditus [Um-bra, ac-tene-bras, ah-wa-din, shape-show]
The bit in square brackets is the pronunciation of four geometric shapes, consisting of a number of dots, circles, triangles, and lines. For someone to possess her true name, they would require these shapes as a part of the written version as well as their associated syllables. All of this was chosen by Helen’s Player, and its gloriously self-aggrandising, like a true Hermetic’s name should be.
And welcome back to the final branch of the chronicle. The first of (most likely) six sessions which should serve as epilogue to this almost year long chronicle. If you're been keeping up to date with the story so far then well done you! I'm so glad you've been enjoying it. Let's see if we can pull off a graceful finish to things.
Aaron’s player probably won’t be around until the session after this, and I have a sneaking suspicion that Lydia’s player is gone for good. I’m still keeping her story hooks in the game just in case she sporadically turns up before the end of the game. I’m not counting on it though.
Cast List
Alfred Camlan: Excalibur Mage
Sean “Sam” Heath: Templar Knight
Helen Walter: Hermetic Spy
Joe Hanson: Noir Detective
Notable NPCS Include:
Eve: Helen's Mentor
Belladonna: Celtic Euthanatos
--- CHAPTER 34: THE FIRST DAY OF YULE---
[ST NOTE: Alfred’s player put a lot of his downtime points into Arete, so this is how his seeking went. He’d been walking about the umbra for several weeks, searching for the Great Planes to retrieve the Surtur’s sword for the Norns. He came across the Sword in the Stone, his own avatar who would ask if believed he was ready to wield it. Alfred said yes and made to grab it but it disappeared, leaving him in a field with a great lake before him and an encroaching army over the hills. Within the lake was the sword, Excalibur. Alfred would have to dive into the lake and get it. As he went, he would slowly lose health levels until he goes unconscious. It would be impossible to get the sword and stay conscious. If he gave up at any point, he’d return to the surface and face the army head on. The lesson here was resolve, and Alfred had it, reaching out for the hilt just as he got to his health level.
I then played a little cutscene where he felt himself be raised in the air, hear a woman’s voice speak, saying he had a “warrior’s resolve” and have a vague smell of apples linger until he woke up, sword in hand, at the bottom of a lake. Swimming out of it brought him back to the Great Plains, Surtur sword in hand, once more ablaze.]
Alfred met with the Norns to uphold his deal, and they revealed to him that Vivian’s fate was sealed by them, they had brought the threads which threw her across the umbra. Alfred bowed and apologised for not returning their favour sooner, and they left. Alfred would return to find the coven as bitterly divided as ever. He began to make plans for the coming Yule festival as acting High Priest, when he saw a letter from his Grandfather.
“Dear Alfred
I speak on behalf of all of our family when I say we are worried for you. News of the happenings in London has spread further than you may think, and everyone here agrees that, even more so than normal, this city is not a safe place to remain within. I’ve told you a thousand times that this lifeless city is awash with technocrats obsessed with controlling every aspect whatever they can find, and crushing any form of life or magic of the face of the earth, but each warning was met with disregard. Now you speak of Nephandi, Marauders, as well as Technocrats all in the same breath. What more evidence do you need before you realise this accursed city is no place for out kind to live.
While we are all impressed to hear you’ve done so well with the Keepers of the Wyck. I must admit I have concerns extra to that I have written about above; concerns about how ready you are for such a demanding position as High Priest. It took me many years of practice before I was ready to take up such a role, yet you have not been with the coven a full season yet, and they have already laid this great responsibility at your feet. Do you not realise what is required? The rites that are to be made and learned, the supplies that one must keep, the knowledge of all things spiritual and medicinal, the great number ancient tongues, the many varied stories of the gods, the exact timing of the stars, the proper way to treat and care for a node, not to mention the duties one must perform with the High Priestess; do you really think you are ready for such a role, especially with the coven in as fragile a form as you claim it to be? There must be someone more experienced available to take up such a demanding position. Gwyn perhaps? I’m sure that Vivian had the best of intentions when she made her decision, but one cannot know another quite like family does, and we simply are not sure if you are ready for such a challenging task, especially in as dangerous a place as this. Think of your High Priestess. Does she not deserve someone more familiar with the expectations of the role to help her adjust? If it was just you under Vivian’s guidance, then perhaps it may have been possible, but with the both of you figuring out how to walk while trying to run a coven, surely you can see that it is a recipe for disaster. Please do not be disheartened. We are only thinking about what is best for you.
In addition, while it is noble to wish to fight your enemies on their own doorstep, besides the danger of it all, which I cannot emphasise enough, it is also quite a distraction from what you should really be focusing on, the search for the Great and Noble King. Your visions of Excalibur are encouraging, though I think your meeting with The King should be note with caution. In all my years of searching I have never one seen His Majesty appear before me, so I find it highly suspect that this would happen in London of all places. Perhaps once you come home, I’ll have Cousin Meredith pay a visit to examine your mental aura. If all is well, then we’ll see if your visions return, and if so, it is then that we can examine them for insight with greater clarity.
Alfred, my Grandson, I understand if you need some time to smooth things over with the Keepers before you return to where you belong, but I must advise haste. The longer you stay in this wretched city, the greater the danger you will be. Already a number of us have consulted the stars and can see a great shadow looming over you. Please heed our warnings and return to us. Your return will be a time of much celebration, and I’m sure your experiences will be a great boon to our community.
Berenabus
P.S – If you heed nothing else of my warnings, heed this. Beware this Hermetic girl, this Helen Walter you speak of. Blood carries more than simple ancestry, and hers is the blood of a very dangerous and perverse set of technocrats. Already her actions have proved she cannot be trusted. This girl is dangerous, and I suggest you cut all ties with her immediately. Bad blood simply cannot be taught.”
Alfred shook his head. He knew telling his grandfather the details of his time in London would cause some concern, but he never expected this. Alfred conceded that they did have a point, but then he never thought he would be the High Priest for long, just long enough to keep the coven together and see them through this difficult time.
Hanson had a lot to consider. First was the case of Helen’s parents. “Fox mum” was with Helen, and he was pretty sure searching for whatever happened to her dad would involve going deep into a technocratic base, so that investigation was on hold for the moment. Second was Dubois, though Hanson hadn’t had any leads for that in months and had exhausted all his contacts, so that too was being put on hold.
Something else did catch his attention though. The papers over the last few days wrote on a number of suicides, but there was something about them that didn’t seem right. In his experience, suicides tended to be private things, done in the most discrete locations like a bathroom or a garage. But these were out in the open in the middle of the day. Hanson couldn’t help but feel there was more to it than the papers lead on.
But then there was the matter of his deal with Mr Steed, the reason he got his office back, surveillance free as far as he knew. Aaron had been missing for months, no sign of him since the heath, and if his debut on the news as a terrorist was any indication, he would be very difficult to find. But a deal was a deal, and he at least had to look like he was making an effort, so he decided to head out to Aaron’s old apartment in Shoreditch.
Helen had a very rough few nights. In order to hide away from any Technocratic eyes, she’d been staying almost exclusively at the Hermetic Chantry in the centre of London. Her room was rather small, but served her well enough. It turned out sneaking her fox in was the easy part, keeping it hidden required a great deal of energy. She spent almost the entire day on highly geometric rituals to create a number of effects, one Mind effect to keep the fox docile and relaxed, and a Forces effect to make its movements and cries as silent as possible. She hoped this would be enough to prevent prying eyes from looking into her room, especially her mentor, though it did mean a bad night’s sleep the following day.
Today, she planned to speak with Eve. Her new rank came with an extra deal of work keeping her bound to her desk most days, but it also provided an extra degree of influence. Helen had two things to speak with her about, the first was a follow up on a request she had made earlier in the month to visit Boris in his prison cell. This was one of the terms of the agreement made with Alfred, to grant meeting with Boris as soon as possible so Alfred may converse. The second was more of a long shot. Alfred had told her that the understanding of Life required to transform her mother back to human was far above anything either of them were capable, but there was a rumour going around the chantry that a Hermetic Master of Life was providing a guest lecture soon. She wasn’t sure how, but perhaps there was a chance she could gain his favour.
She enters Eve’s Office.
Helen: Hello? Eve?
Eve: Helen? Are you not going back to Scotland for the holidays?
Helen: No, I’ll be staying here.
Eve: Ah, very good. Then we can continue our lessons tomorrow.
Helen: There’s something I’d like to ask.
Eve: What is it?
Helen: I wanted to know if everything’s set up for visiting the Keeper’s High Priest.
Eve: Oh that, yes, you should have your visit in two days. Just arrive at the Tribunal hall and follow their instructions, someone from House Quaesitor will be there to meet you.
Helen: Good. There’s one more thing. I’ve heard there’s a master of Life coming to visit.
Eve: Yes. Magister Scholae Armando Sinclair bani Flambeu.
Helen: Could I meet with them?
Eve: Magister Scholae don’t tend to meet with initiates.
Helen: I was just wondering if I could attend his lecture.
Eve: I don’t think that will be possible, his lectures are only for those who have attained the 6th rank at least. Besides, it would be rather advanced for your level.
Helen: I just really want to increase my understanding of life.
Eve: I thought you were more interested in expanding your understanding of the Ars Conjuctionalis. Now you’ve barely began your studies and you’re thinking of switching once again?
Helen: I just really want to increase my understanding.
Eve: I appreciate that. And truly I am very impressed with how seriously you’ve been taking your studies since you returned.
Helen: You would be able to attend the lecture for me.
Eve: I might, if I could find the time for it.
Helen: Then could you please speak with him? Perhaps introduce me?
Eve: I really couldn’t say.
Helen: Please Eve.
Eve: Helen. He is from House Flambeu. We are just House Jerbiton, one of the Miscellanea Houses. Do you really think someone of his importance would pay us any attention? Why are you so desperate to speak with them anyway?
Helen: I just really want to understand the sphere of Life much better, and I really think he can help.
Eve: …I’ll see what I can do. Now if you please, I need to catch up on my writing.
Helen: Thank you.
Eve: And get a proper night’s sleep this time. I expect to see you for your lessons first thing 7am.
Helen leaves quickly, with plans to rush to Alfred to inform him about the prison visit.
Alfred was dealing with a slight issue in the coven.
Kael: I’m not sure it’s a good idea him staying here this long is all.
Alfred: Kael, this man risked everything to help us. I trust him more than anyone.
Kael: But for three whole months? Surely he would wish to be with his own kind.
Alfred: He is in hiding from his “own kind”, for the very things he did to aid us.
Kael: Then surely that means they are searching for him. The Chorus are likely to be drawn here, and drag us back into another Tribunal for holding him.
Sean: They do not know I am here.
Unbeknownst to Kael, Sean had heard every word spoken. He didn’t blame them for his caution, but at the same time didn’t wish to find another place to stay.
Alfred: Perhaps we should address him directly. Sam, are you in hiding?
Sean: I am not.
Kael: And the chorus are not looking for you then?
Sean: The Chorus, no. I do not believe so.
Kael: Well then, if you are not in hiding. May I invite you to join us for this Yule ceremony?
Sean: Certainly.
Alfred stared at Sean with surprise and joy. He never expected that he would agree to attend one of their rituals.
Kael: Good, High Priest, if you may? We should start preparations while there is still some light left.
Alfred had a plan in mind for the days of Yule which started tonight, the night of the winter solstice. They would travel to Epping forest, the location of a fairly weak node as recorded in their book of shadows. There, they will perform the solstice rites which would be proceeded by another 5 days of ceremony. He hoped that such activity would allow him ample opportunity to watch over every member in case they revealed themselves to be linked with the Spirals, but also thought such a ceremony may bring his fractured coven together. He chose Epping forest because of how relatively out of the way it was. Going back to Hampstead Heath would give them too much attention.
The Coven still consisted of the same remaining members, with one addition. Alfred decided to initiate one of Lydia’s old students, Rowan, who frequently attended the open circle, despite not being an awakened mage.
The coven gathered their tools and materials and left with Sean in tow towards the exit of Churchil Gardens, where Alfred noticed a girl with silvery short hair running towards him. Realising it was Helen, he quickly ushered his coven to head away before him. He did not want any of them to see him still dealing with the girl who almost destroyed his coven.
Alfred: Helen, what are you doing here?
Helen: I have news. The prison visit for Boris will be in two days.
Alfred: Two days? That’s actually pretty good.
Helen: There are rules though, we’ll have to leave foci behind, and we’ll need to be watched, two guards to each visitor.
Alfred: Makes sense… I can imagine how often visitors must have attempted jailbreaks
Helen: Also, do you have any more ideas on how to bring my mother back?
Alfred: No, Helen. I have already told you this ritual is far beyond my experience to break.
Helen: You promised you would help me though.
Alfred: I have helped you, by translating the ritual.
Helen: Do you think it would make it easier if we returned to the site the ritual took place?
Alfred: Perhaps, where was that?
Helen: A forest in north whales.
Alfred: No, I couldn’t leave my coven for that long. Even with the pathways it would take a full day to complete a round trip, and that’s assuming we even find the exact spot.
Helen: So there’s nothing you can do then.
Alfred: I have already done a considerable amount for you, especially if you factor in what you have done to us.
Helen left, somewhat dejected to return to her studies. Her only real hopes seemingly lay with this master.
About 10 acolytes from the Open Circle joined the Keepers as they gathered by the node in Epping Forrest, a number of iron-age forts which held an ancient resonance. Alfred directed the group and together dug a ceremonial pit. Kael and Gwyn passed mead around to those not digging. Mica set up her machines to make the digging much easier for everyone as Kael grumbled about her methods. Sean stood by and watched, not too sure exactly what was going on, but accepted the cup of mead handed to him. The sweet taste surprised him by how pleasant it was. Sean had spent a good deal of time with these pagans, and this was the first of their ceremonies he’d ever attended. With Christmas fast approaching, it gave him a small amount of comfort to see even these pagans held such a strong sense of community. With the pit wide enough to accommodate each of them, Alfred instructed his coven and the open circle to proceed with the ritual, which included a number of prayers to the gods, and a goat sacrifice. Round about the time they began to smear the blood around the ritual site with sticks, Sean decided that this was probably a good time to leave. There was only so much heresy one can take in a day.
Hanson arrived at Hanson’s old apartment. It had been a while since he looked about here and he wasn’t certain what to expect. He rung the buzzer.
Voice: Hello?
Hanson: Hi, is there an Aaron Gibson here?
Voice: Who’s this?
Hanson: I’m just looking for an Aaron Gibson, he used to live here.
Voice: You’re looking for someone in the flat?
Hanson: Yes… Is he in?
Voice: I’ll just buzz you up.
Hanson ascended the stairs and knocked at the door, a rather scruffy looking person answered.
Guy: Hello?
Hanson: Hi, I was just outside, asking about someone here.
Guy: Oh… Who was that again?
Hanson: Aaron Gibson…
Guy: Nope, don’t know him.
Hanson: He used to be a tenant here.
Guy: So he’s the reason my deposit’s so high.
Hanson: How do you mean?
Guy: I was told the last guy before me wrecked the place.
Hanson: I’m guessing you’re a the new tenant then.
Guy: Yeah, moved in a few weeks ago. Not bad for London.
Hanson: Do you by any chance have contact with the landlord?
Guy: Sure, what’s this for again?
Hanson: Investigation.
Guy: Oh, so you’re like with the police then?
Hanson: Not exactly, I’m a private detective.
While talking to the man, Hanson peaked into the room and noticed a scrap of fabric attached to the counter, and a pair of shoes still in place stuck to the floor of the kitchen area.
Walking away from the building, he called the Landlord to ask him what he knew about Aaron’s whereabouts.
Landlord: Oh you’re looking for him are you? Well, you tell him that he owes me at least two months worth of rent, and and extra £500 on top of that for expenses!
Hanson: What happened?
Landlord: The state of this apartment, I’ve never seen anything like it. Furniture piled up, Boots superglued to the floor, Rat droppings everywhere, I distinctly told him no pets. And on top of that, I got a bunch of police looking about because, here’s a shock, the guy turns out to be a cyber terrorist!
Hanson: Wow.
Landlord: Yeah, you can never really know someone can you. Anyway, that’s just been a big nightmare to deal with. Police cars make house viewings really difficult you know.
Hanson: So you have no idea where he is then?
Landlord: If I did, I tell you, I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to you.
Hanson: Ok… thank you.
A dead end. Aaron certainly knew how to hide. Without a lead, Hanson decided to postpone this investigation and head towards a few of these suicide spots.
The pit was ready, and properly prepared with the blood of their sacrifice. Though Alfred was saddened by Sean’s sudden departure, he continued on regardless. They all brought their glasses and Alfred prepared to lead them in their toasts. The first would be to Odin, for Victory and Power to the King, the second for the Good Harvests and peace, the third for the king himself, Alfred planned to make this one towards King Arthur but tried to be subtle about it, and the fourth would be for those who were lost, a solemn moment to contemplate their lost leaders, Boris and Vivian.
Sean was part way across the forest when he overheard a group of rowdy men walking the opposite way. He slowed his pace as he overheard their shouts.
“I saw them come in here, those satanists off the news”
“Yeah, show that terrorist scum what we think of that”
“See how they like it when the bombs put on them!”
“Get em good.”
Sean was about to let them go without intervening, knowing the Verbena perfectly capable of taking care of themselves, until he noticed what they were holding, glass jars and bottles filled with transparent liquid. This was not something he could leave up to chance. Sean followed them, trying to stay hidden, but it wasn’t long before they looked in his direction.
Guy: Hey! What you looking at?
Sean: Who me?
Guy: You following us or something?
Sean: I’m just having a walk.
Guy: Yeah? Well piss off!
Other guy: Leave him Harry, he’s not worth it.
Sean walked away, intending to circle around and follow from a distance. As he walked through the forest he noticed one of these men following behind him.
OGuy: Hey, sorry about that.
Sean: Its… alright.
OGuy: Gotta be careful though, there’s a bunch of satanists like from off the news nearby.
Sean: I see…
OGuy: We were going to go drive them out, you seem like a good guy, want to help out?
Sean: …certainly.
Sean followed the man who led them on the road to the group, steadily approaching ritual site.
Alfred had just lead everyone through the second toast. Alfred looked up in time to see what looked like a small stream of fire hurtling towards them, the dim moonlight casting the silhouette of a bottle. With the safety of his people at the forefront of his mind, Alfred interrupted this ritual to cause a great number of vines to shoot up from the ground below, forming a shield of sorts before them. The bottle collided with the vines, and immediately erupted into flames. Fire and broken glass fell from the vines in drops as panic amassed about Alfred’s acolytes.
Hanson had three places in mind to check out. The first was by the thames on the west, the first recorded suicide, the body was found washed up on the bank at low tide several days ago. Arriving at the bank, he brought out his notepad and started writing down everything he noticed, trying to sense patterns of order in the maelstrom of chaos. He could sense the place the body ended up, but without Time it was difficult to tell how long it was there, or when they died. But he could get the sense of a certain precision to the events, and even the remnants of a kind of compulsion.
Moving on to the second location, the side of Tower Bridge, the site of a suicide reported just this morning. Here he could feel out a direction, almost a tube of order going down from the side of the bridge to the river below it. The trajectory of a jump; this was where the guy must have fallen. Again he could sense a precision to the events, as though something or someone were orchestrating these events.
Lastly, we came to the third body in the loading area behind a supermarket. Though it was the most recently found, it’s likely, Hanson thought, that it died quite a bit before the bridge jumper. The site here was still under active investigation, though Hanson was able to slip past the police with his perception filter to get a good look for himself. The body was still on the ground, a pool of dried blood beneath it, their hand tightly grasping strange knife which was deeply embedded within their chest. As with the other sites, he could sense that same feel of precision, of compulsion, and of deliberate intent. It was enough to question whether these were suicides at all. He could feel this knife had a great deal of significance about it. Carefully, he approached the body and pulled out the knife and swiftly walking well away from the scene before anyone noticed he was there. Upon examining it he noticed the hilt had an interesting design to it, a helical curve, culminating in a spiral at the bottom edge.
Hanson returned to his office, but stops. He can hear someone beyond the door, waiting for him perhaps. He took a quick drink from his flask and concentrated on the mind behind this door, tried to listen to whatever surface thoughts there were. “Come in, detective.” Was all he found. With little else to go on, he opened the door.
There stood Belladonna. One of the Aided, the celtic euthanatos, the woman he briefly saw at the Tribunal all those months ago.
Belladonna: Good evening.
Hanson: To what do I owe this break in?
Belladonna: I’ve heard you’ve been trying to meet with Euthanatos mages.
Hanson: For a while, I was.
Belladonna: Looking for Violet Dubois, yes?
Hanson: I take it you know her.
Belladonna: Yes, very sloppy mage if I recall. Arrogant too, puts far too much emphasis on flair rather than focussing on getting the job done.
Hanson: Do you know what happened to her?
Belladonna: I believe she has been taken by a group of nephandi.
Hanson: I thought as much…
Belladonna: Yes, as I said, sloppy. Had she not been so eager to break holes through space, she may have instead made it easier to keep herself hidden. By all accounts, I believe she has brought this upon herself. But I am concerned about what these nephandi may be planning.
Hanson: Do you know much about the Spirals of Madness.
Belladonna: I know that names among the nephandi are fluid. They only last for as long as they are useful for their goals. The legacy of the fallen is in the destruction they cause, not the names and titles they obtain. As such, these things are of little import or value to them.
Hanson: Well, the nephandi I dealt with called themselves the Spirals of Madness. We managed to stop them summoning an elder god
Belladonna: Yes, I am aware of them. I was at the tribunal with these Keepers of the Wyck on trial. Their High Priestess was a fool to let their influence grow under her for so long. Had I known about it, had she come to me, I would have done the job for her long ago. But as it stands… What happened to Vivian marks as karmic justice enough.
Hanson: Be that as it may, I’m not convinced the Spirals are actually gone yet.
Belladonna: Wise, the nephandi are never truly gone. Even death merely delays them.
Hanson: Did you happen to see the painting Dubois left behind?
Belladonna: She had a lot of paintings, not that I took the time to look through them. I never really understood fine art. I prefer the bardic arts myself.
Hanson: How about these suicides. Know anything about them?
Belladonna: Death is always on the mind of a Euthanatos mage.
Hanson: uh… not to be rude, but that doesn’t really answer my question.
Belladonna: I have. Though I have not been able to learn much.
Hanson: Well, I found this at one of the victims.
Hanson showed her the knife he took, and Belladonna stared at it in shock.
Hanson: Do you know this?
Belladonna: Yes… I have seen this before.
Hanson: By the nephandi? The Spirals?
Belladonna: For their rituals, though they used a different name.
Hanson: What can you tell me?
Belladonna: Detective… No… I don’t suppose but. Have you heard the legend of the Green Fairy of Ireland?
Hanson: Not really…
Belladonna: I see… Many say it’s just a children’s tale, but there is a darker story behind it, lost in its many retellings.
Hanson: And how does that tie in to this?
Belladonna: I would not wish to mislead your investigation. It may be entirely unrelated, I do not know just yet.
Hanson: It’s just, there was one person I knew who mentioned this Green Fairy. Lydia, said she was looking for her, had something to do with her father.
Belladonna: Do you know where this person is?
Hanson: No. I haven’t seen her over the last three months.
Belladonna: I see… If she does turn up, I would be interested in talking to her.
Hanson: Should I give you this (holding out the knife)
Belladonna: Yes. That would make things easier.
She takes the knife out of his hands and places it in her own robes.
Hanson: Sure, if it helps you find out where Violet it.
Belladonna: I understand you may have some affection for her, but in many ways I believe she deserves what’s coming to her. Her attitude made such attacks inevitable. No, I only wish to find out where these nephandi are hiding and what they are planning before it’s too late to stop it.
Hanson: Understandable.
Hanson gets up and walks to his drinks cabinet.
Hanson: So, shall I contact you if I find anything.
Belladonna: That would be much appreciated detective. Have a good night.
Hanson: Would you like anything to drink, by the way?
Hanson turns, but Belladonna is nowhere to be seen. All he could sense of her presence was a subtle shift in mental perception, much like his own filter effect. This deadly mind mage had already made her hidden exit.
---NOTES---
If you’re wondering what happened to Alfred and the coven, that’s covered in the next session. Alfred’s player had to leave early, so we thought we’d just pause that moment and finish it off first thing the following week.
Incidentally, Here’s everyone’s current spheres:
Helen: Corr 1, Forces 3, Life 3, Mind 2
Sean: Corr 2, Matter 4, Prime 3
Alfred: Life 3, Mind 3, Spirit 3
Hanson: Entropy 3, Forces 3, Mind 3
I’ll put up Aaron’s once I go over downtime exp with Aaron’s player.
Lastly, I thought I’d share with you Helen’s newly appointed Hermetic True Name:
Aileen Helen Walter Daina Freya, bani Jerbiton, Guardian of the Justice, Whisperer of the Nine Stars, Maiden of the Shapes and Shadows, Fighter of the Will, Reminiscence of the Forgetables, In Caligine Abditus [Um-bra, ac-tene-bras, ah-wa-din, shape-show]
The bit in square brackets is the pronunciation of four geometric shapes, consisting of a number of dots, circles, triangles, and lines. For someone to possess her true name, they would require these shapes as a part of the written version as well as their associated syllables. All of this was chosen by Helen’s Player, and its gloriously self-aggrandising, like a true Hermetic’s name should be.
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