TEXT: ROOT MAGIC
  She awoke in a tunnel, or in what seemed like a tunnel. All she knew at ﬁ rst was that it was very dark. 
  “No, not just dark,” she muttered. “It’s friggin’ cold, too.” 
  Her eyes stung as they tried to adjust to the lack of light, but her long, straight hair was plastered to her face, stray wisps irritat-
  ing her eyes. She tried to lift a hand to brush her hair back from her face and then remembered they were bound behind her.
  “Oh, yeah,” she told the darkness. “Well, at least they didn’t gag me.” She tested her legs by trying to stand, but felt tape 
  wrapped tightly around her ankles.
  “You’re not making this easy, if you’re watching,” she said. The absolute silence that surrounded her made her think that 
  maybe they weren’t watching. Maybe they had done exactly what they said they would do.
  •     •     •
  “Why do you want to study with me, anyway, girl?” Old Man Pardee glared at her, his bushy eyebrows forming a glowering 
  line above his dark brown eyes. “Aren’t your fancy teachers in the city good enough for you? Have you learned everything 
  they can teach you? Or do you think you can come back here with your big city airs and show us pore ol’ mountain folk how 
  to work real magic?”
  Whatever Aralathienne was expecting when she left Raleigh — where she’d gone off to college, where she’d Awakened and 
  where she’d been recruited by the Mysterium — to return home to the Blue Ridge Mountains in search of the magic of the 
  hills and hollers, she never thought she’d have to plead her case to such a hard man.
  “I want to learn the magic of my home,” she had told him honestly, “and I want to learn it from the best.” She waited to see if the 
  old conjure man would cut her off. When he didn’t, she took a deep breath and added, “And you’re the best, is what I hear.”
  •     •     •
  She shivered suddenly and her surroundings rushed to the fore. It was more than dark and cold, it was damp, and she felt 
  that it was growing damper — but not as if it were raining. 
  “The water level’s rising,” she thought and felt a wave of panic rush through her body, settling in just above her gut which 
  had somehow risen up to surround her heart.
  “First things ﬁ rst,” she told herself as she started working her wrists back and forth within the ropes that bound them. At 
  ﬁ rst, she had trouble, for her ﬁ ngertips were numb and stiff. After what seemed like eons, she felt the ropes loosen and give. 
  She shook them from her wrists and swiftly turned to use her newly freed hands to remove the tape from her legs, which had 
  also gone to sleep from lack of movement.
  She stood up, intending to stretch her legs and restore some ﬂ exibility to them, but a sharp crack to the top of her head 
  stopped her before she could fully straighten her body. 
  “Ahhh—shit!” 
  It was a tunnel after all. Her ﬁ rst instincts were right. And not a very tall tunnel either. After experimenting, she found that her 
  best course of action was to travel on hands and knees, although the rough stones and dirt of the tunnel ﬂ oor — no, the rough wet 
  stones and ever moistening mud of the tunnel ﬂ oor — would wreak havoc on her knees as well as on the palms of her hands. 
  Again, she strained to see through the darkness, but her eyes wouldn’t adjust. 
  Damn it! 
  She suddenly remembered the salve Old Man Pardee had put on and around her eyes when she complained of a burning 
  sensation she passed off as eyestrain. Almost immediately, she had grown very sleepy and had sunk into the worn but com-
  fortable sofa in the front room of the old man’s cabin, pulling a quilted coverlet over herself. She must have drifted off to 
  sleep listening to the crackling of the ﬁ re in the hearth.
  She’d woken up in the tunnel, and now the damn salve was keeping her from focusing properly, keeping her in the dark.
  “Great, I can’t use my eyes. I’ve got four senses left.” A picture rose in her mind of a bloodhound snifﬁ ng its way out of the 
  tunnel. She shook her head, trying to clear the image from her mind. “I’m not going to smell my way out of this.” 
  A sound that she had been hearing all along suddenly clariﬁ ed itself, revealing its nature to her as a steady trickle of water 
  running into the tunnel from somewhere above.
  “I’m under water,” she whispered aloud, more to hear herself voice the words and crystallize her fear. “Underground and 
  under water, and the water is breaking through.” Again she fought a war with the panic inside her, pushing it aside with her 
  
  will. At least her magic had taught her that much, that she could focus her will and create results — among them, banishing 
  negative emotions like fear.
  “Let’s move, legs!” she said, striking out in the direction she was already facing. “Standing still is a bad thing!”
  A few minutes later, Aralathienne realized that she was literally going nowhere. Whatever the old man had done to her 
  had confounded her sense of direction as well as temporarily (she hoped) blinded her. 
  “Now what?” 
  She sat back on her heels and forced herself to think, noticing, as she did so that the trickle of water now sounded more 
  like a steady rush.
  “Take stock,” she told herself. Most of the magic she knew as a mage of the Path of Thyrsus and a member of the Mysterium 
  depended either on seeing a target or having a direction. Here, she had neither. 
  “I came here to study the hoodoo tradition, old man!” she said, her voice deﬁ ant despite her misery in the growing damp. 
  “You’re not going to get rid of me this easily.”
  •     •     •
  She tried to remember what she had learned from the old man so far. Despite his reluctance to take on a “city girl,” as he 
  called her, as a student, he’d showed her some of his books, including what he called his “book of remedies,” a small, hand-
  bound book ﬁ lled with crimped handwriting. The book contained recipes for poultices, instructions for curing diseases in 
  animals and people by transferring the sickness into an object or an animal. Odd rhymes and fragments of ballads made up 
  a good portion of the book, charms to use in all kinds of situations. Somehow, she’d expected more, and she said so. “These 
  are too easy,” she complained to Old Man Pardee after reading through one of the books in an afternoon. 
  He barely glanced at her as he continued carving down a length of cherry wood into what looked like a walking staff. “You’d 
  be wise to larn what’s in there, girlie,” he snapped. “Someday your life could depend on that easy stuff.”
  •     •     •
  “Great,” she muttered, getting used to talking aloud to no one but herself. “What did I read that could possibly help me 
  here?” She put her mind to work swiftly sorting through everything she could remember of the old man’s books.
  “I’m in a tunnel, under ground — no, make that under water — and I might as well be under the ocean for all the good 
  knowing that will do me.” She made herself relax and clear her mind. Fragments of verses from ballads that had been copied 
  into the old man’s book ﬂ owed through her mind like water. She cast them all aside — most of the ballads ended badly. 
  One song remained, distinctive because of its cheerfulness. Now, she felt it might hold the key to her release, for it spoke 
  of being underground.
  Gone the iron touch of cold, winter time and frost time
  Seedlings working through the mould, now wake up for lost time
  The words were from a song called “The Flower Carol” and she remembered her ﬁ rst night with the old man. His son, 
  visiting from the next holler, had brought his guitar and sang after supper. The old man accompanied him on banjo. It was 
  the ﬁ rst inkling she had that she had chosen right by coming back to the mountains to study the magic of the hills. She 
  remembered that song because of its tune, the same tune as the Christmas carol about King Wenceslas. 
  “It’s now or never,” she murmured, and recited the words. The rhyming sounds hung in the air, devoid of power. But thinking 
  back on the evening when Lyle Pardee had sung the song, she remembered feeling something stir in the back of her head, 
  something from the world that used to be — the Supernal World, her Atlantean masters had called it.
  “It’s a song,” she said to the darkness. “It needs the music.” 
  •     •     •
  The old man had grunted his appreciation when she perked up at the song, recognizing the tune. “So, you’ve heard this 
  afore,” he said. She’d nodded. “The tune, we used to sing it at Christmas.” He’d shrugged. “It ﬁ gures,” he muttered while Lyle 
  checked the tuning of his guitar before starting another song. “It’s the tune that carries the meaning,” he said.
  •     •     •
  She’s heard that pagan rituals had survived the ages of persecution by disguising themselves as Christmas carols or bal-
  lads, but she’d always assumed that the words were hiding. Maybe the tunes hid as well, and maybe they conveyed the power 
  as much or more than the words.
  Her throat felt scratchy but she turned her focus inward, steadying her voice, then sang the lyrics about the seedlings. She 
  felt power build up around her, but not enough. 
  
  The power of three, she remembered, and repeated the couplet twice more. As her voice died into the silence that sur-
  rounded her, she realized she could hear slight movements around her.
  Seedlings working through the mould. 
  They would grow in the direction of the surface, pushing their way to the light. She let her hearing guide her, following the 
  soft shufﬂ ing of earth, sounds she knew were ampliﬁ ed by the power in the air around her. She felt the earthy ceiling inches 
  above her head and touched tiny tendrils — roots — that moved under her hand.
  Now she had a purpose. She began crawling again, but this time casting about with her hands, feeling the tunnel above 
  her head for the telltale root tips. All she had to do was use her hands and her ears to follow the pattern of their growth, for 
  they were leading her to safety.
  She crawled quickly, ever mindful of the sound of water growing steadily louder, but deﬁ nitely behind her — and below her. 
  She was rising as she followed the root path overhead. The tunnel was set on an upward incline and she was keeping ahead 
  of the water, and would do so as long as she could remember the right things to say or sing or do at the right time.
  Without warning, she found that her hand could no longer touch the ceiling. The tunnel had grown bigger from ground 
  to ceiling and she could no longer ﬁ nd the path the magicked roots had taken.   
  “Damn,” she cursed softly. “Now what?”  
  She thought back to the songs she’d heard that night. After the ﬂ ower song, Lyle had given them another carol, this one 
  called “The May Day Carol.” She didn’t remember this song as well as the other, but part of a verse stuck in her head.
  A branch of May I will bring you, my love,
  Here at your door I stand
  It’s nothing but a sprout, but it’s well budded out…
  “I’m looking for a branch,” she said, and sang the verse as she remembered it. This time, she felt that she need sing the 
  words only once. When she ﬁ nished, she tried listening beyond the sound of the water for any sign that “something” had 
  happened. For a minute or two, she couldn’t make out any other sounds, just the water following her and coming closer as 
  the rush became a roar of sound. “I’ve got to step up the pace,” she said. 
  Then she heard it, a soft sighing breeze blowing toward her from one side of the tunnel, but not the other, a breeze that 
  carried with it the faintest memory of the tune she’d just sang. “The tunnel branches,” she observed. “And I’m taking the 
  branch that leads to the air.” 
  Although she could stand up in this part of the tunnel, she felt little relief even though her knees no longer had to take 
  the brunt of her journey. Shakily, she traversed the tunnel from side to side until she found where it split in the middle, one 
  branch a little cooler and dryer than the other one, which appeared to arc downward from the sound of the water that now 
  seemed to come from that direction as well.
  She noticed that her hands could touch both walls without stretching her arms out. The tunnel was narrowing. Soon she 
  felt the ceiling press on the top of her head and had to stoop lower and lower until she was crawling again, with the tunnel 
  closing in on all sides. If this continued, the passage would soon be too narrow for her to navigate. She kept going, even when 
  crawling gave way to dragging herself along on her belly, pushing her body with toes that she could barely feel while she dug 
  her ﬁ ngers into the tunnel ﬂ oor, trying to ﬁ nd enough purchase to pull herself forward. She felt the tears ﬁ ll her eyes and 
  trickle down her face as she came to a halt, unable to move further forward or, as she discovered, backward.
  “No,” she whispered, horriﬁ ed as she heard the sound turn into a sob. “Not like this!”
  Panicked, she tried to ﬁ nd a song that would ﬁ t her situation. Nothing Lyle had sung that night seemed to apply. Or if any 
  of his song choices did, she couldn’t bring them to mind.
  •     •     •
  “There’s more than cures for sick horses and babes in this book,” Old Man Pardee told her. “You keep readin’. There’s charms to protect 
  you from the thoughts of evil men, there’s words to conjure something from practically nothin’, if you know how to read it right.
  •     •     •
  “I need a way through,” she said. “I need something I can use as an anchor to pull me forward.” 
  A charm from the book scratched the surface of her consciousness and she threw as much magical energy as she could 
  into its three-fold recitation.
  Earth above me, earth below me, wood before me, bring me home.
  The charm was intended to help someone who was lost ﬁ nd his way to a familiar place. She hoped it would work for her 
  now. She repeated the phrase twice more and wept with relief as she felt her power take form.
  
  She stretched her hands out in front of her as far as possible, groping on the ground and on the sides of the tunnel until 
  ﬁ nally, just at the edge of her ﬁ ngertips, she brushed against what felt like a heavy root that had looped upon itself, forming 
  nothing so much as a hand hold. With the ferocity of a drowning person — which, she reminded herself, she might be in 
  the next few minutes — she grabbed hold of the root and pulled herself a few more feet through the tunnel. She could feel 
  the walls scrape the exposed parts of her arms and legs and pull at her hair, but somehow, with the help of the twig bundles, 
  she made it through what had been a bottleneck. 
  “Something from practically nothing,” she repeated, echoing the old man’s words. A rush of conﬁ dence ﬂ owed through 
  her. She just might survive this after all.
  She felt the cave open out around her at least somewhat, but she had little strength to do anything other than just lie on 
  the tunnel ﬂ oor, relishing the feeling of space around her. 
  Despite her sense of urgency, she must have fallen asleep, or gone unconscious from exhaustion, for the next thing she 
  knew, she was gasping for breath as water ﬁ lled her nostrils and mouth. Hurriedly she stood up to get away from the water 
  that reached her ankles even as she stretched to her full height. Resolutely, she moved forward in the direction she last re-
  membered going. She took only a few steps before she found a wall.
  Quickly, she felt for her surroundings and encountered walls in all directions. Her tunnel had led her to what was appar-
  ently a circular chamber with no exits — not even the way she had come, for that low, narrow opening was now the conduit 
  for a ﬂ ood of water.
  A sudden calmness came over her as she felt the water rise up past her ankles. The words came unbidden to her mind:
  I wish I was some little sparrow,
  That I had wings and I could ﬂ y…
  And then she knew that the next part of the verse must be her own for the magic of the hills to take effect. 
  I’d rise above all pain and sorrow,
  And count the stars up in the sky.
  She sang the verse three times, each time feeling the Mana coalesce in the air around her, gathering at her back like feathery 
  soft wings of crackling energy.
  There’s no place to go but up, she knew, and lifted both hands in the air in a gesture reminiscent of both reaching and 
  surrender. She felt a rush of air gather under her energy wings and lift her upward, even as the lapping water tried one last 
  time to claim hold of her for itself.
  Taking a deep breath, she willed herself higher, rising through the hold in the earth until she felt herself break through 
  a barrier of some sort, or perhaps she just pushed through the opening of the tunnel into the world outside, rising through 
  some sort of hole in the earth. She stood up, still in darkness, surrounded by sounds of the night, and moved away from the 
  hole. Then her legs gave out and she slumped to the ground, lying on what felt like thick clumps of soft grass and staring up 
  at a sky ﬁ lled with stars of a magnitude impossible to see against the glaring lights of the city she used to call her home.
  She blinked her eyes a few times, to make sure that she was really seeing the stars, a thin crescent moon and, here and 
  there, the looming blackness of the surrounding trees.
  She decided she would allow herself to sleep for a few minutes on the surface of the earth, in her grassy bed. As she shut 
  her eyes, other sounds crept into her awareness: the rustle of small creatures darting about through the grass, the nearly 
  deafening chorus of cicadas answered by the tiny croakers in a nearby pond. Then she heard footsteps approaching hastily. 
  Two of them.
  She was sitting up in the clearing when Old Man Pardee and Lyle came into sight, a lantern leading them straight to her. “So, 
  you made it,“ the old man said. “I reckoned you might, if you could get over yourself long enough to work some real magic.”  
  “Daddy and I were thinkin’,” Lyle said in his slow, thoughtful voice. “You might want to learn the guitar or maybe the banjo. 
  You got a right pretty voice and we can always use a third harmony in some of our songs.”
  She nodded, “I’m thinking I’d like to be called Sparrow from now on,” she said knowing at last that she had come home 
  to stay.
  (Thanks and acknowledgements to Folk Songs of the Southern Appalachians, second edition, as sung by Jean Ritchie (University Press 
  of Kentucky, 1997), for the ballads quoted in this story.)
  
  By Justin Achilli, Jackie Cassada, Stephen Michael DiPesa, 
  By Justin Achilli, Jackie Cassada, Stephen Michael DiPesa, 
  Howard Ingham, Matthew McFarland, Dean Shomshak, 
  Howard Ingham, Matthew McFarland, Dean Shomshak, 
  Travis Stout, Chuck Wendig
  Travis Stout, Chuck Wendig
  
  6
  COMING  NEXT  FOR  MAGE
  Astral Realms
  “We all contain worlds within us. 
  True worlds, full of all the greatness and 
  magnificence and terror that could not be 
  contained in any lesser shell.”
  Credits
  Written by: Justin Achilli, Jackie Cassada, Stephen 
  Michael DiPesa, Howard Ingham, Matthew McFarland, 
  Dean Shomshak, Travis Stout, Chuck Wendig
  Additional writing: Bill Bridges
  World of Darkness created by Mark Rein•Hagen
  Developer: Bill Bridges
  Editor: Scribendi.com
  Creative Director: Rich Thomas
  Art Director: Aileen Miles
  Book Design: Craig S Grant
  Interior Art: Peter Bergting, John Bridges, Brian 
  LeBlanc, Peter MacEvoy, Justin Norman
  Cover Art: Daren Bader
  © 2007 White Wolf, Inc. All rights reserved. Reproduction without the written 
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  duced for personal use only. White Wolf, Vampire, World of Darkness and Mage the 
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  the Requiem, Werewolf the Forsaken, Mage the Awakening, Storytelling System and 
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  names, places and text herein are copyrighted by White Wolf, Inc.
  The mention of or reference to any company or product in these pages is not a challenge to the trademark or copyright concerned. White 
  Wolf's use of the term Mysterium in the Mage the Awakening product line in no way challenges any other use of this term, including but not 
  limited to its use in Laughing Pan Production’s roleplaying game Deliria.
  This book uses the supernatural for settings, characters and themes. All mystical and supernatural elements are fiction and intended for 
  entertainment purposes only. This book contains mature content. Reader discretion is advised.
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  PRINTED IN CANADA.
  
  7
  Table of Contents
  Root Magic 
  1
  Introduction 
  8
  Chapter One: Supernal Correspondences 
  10
  Chapter Two: “Traditional” Traditions 
  30
  Kabbalah 
  32
  Taoist Sorcery 
  47
  Chapter Three: Offspring 
  64
  Santería — La Regla de Ocha 
  66
  The Templar Treasure 
  81
  Theosophy and Its Inheritors 
  95
  Chapter Four: The Fringe 
  112
  Appalachian Hoodoo 
  114
  Entheogen Cults 
  131
  Chapter Five: Global Mystique 
  148
  
  8
  Introduction
  This book reveals how real-world occult traditions have 
  actual relevance to Awakened magic. In the World of 
  Darkness, magic’s not all just about Atlantis, although that 
  culture’s magical mythos secretly informs many mortal 
  belief systems. Although Sleepers can’t cast magic, that 
  doesn’t stop some of them from thinking that they can. 
  Throughout human history, the occult has captured the 
  minds of many, from superstitious peasants to erudite 
  philosophers. Something keeps them coming back for 
  more, even though the promised benefits of magic don’t 
  pan out. Their souls are stirred by something that resides 
  within the occult, something either absent or more elusive 
  in other areas of mortal knowledge. That something is 
  the Supernal.
  While Sleepers are drawn to create and build upon 
  occult traditions, their reward isn’t the power to smite 
  their enemies with the fire of heaven; it’s the feeling in 
  their souls that the world is not utterly meaningless. For 
  mages, however, the Supernal connection these traditions 
  hold offers real power. If they can set aside their snick-
  ering condescension of these practices and see past the 
  guises these often-irrational traditions wear, they might 
  catch a glimpse of something Supernal that they wouldn’t 
  otherwise witness from their lofty Watchtowers.
  The Atlanteans knew more of the truth of magic than 
  any other culture that has risen or fallen since their 
  time. Their system is ontologically privileged, but it isn’t 
  complete, despite what their most fervent modern fol-
  lowers believe. While the eternal truths of the Supernal 
  World do not change, not all Supernal truths are eternal 
  — there is change even in the higher, perfected world. The 
  modern day orders do believe, for the most part, that if 
  the pieces of truth scattered throughout the world could 
  be unearthed, they could be combined with Atlantean 
  wisdom to create an authentic picture of the heavens. 
  Some say that this is what the Celestial Ladder was — not 
  a physical stairway but a mosaic built from secrets.
  As Above, So Below
  All mages know there is a nigh-impermeable barrier 
  between the Fallen and Supernal Worlds and that, short 
  of a rare Awakening (and spells, of course), things just 
  don’t cross that barrier. This metaphysical condition 
  illustrates the tragic circumstances of modern man and 
  the predicament of mages — but it’s not exactly true. 
  There are always exceptions. While no one can bodily 
  cross the Abyss into the Supernal World (and vice versa 
  — Exarchs and Oracles cannot bodily come down to the 
  Fallen World), and no one can project one’s mind or 
  soul there — the Fallen World is conceived by mages as 
  a cage, after all — it is possible for Supernal phenomena 
  to drift down into the Fallen World. “Possible” here 
  means that it occurs more often than even mages usually 
  suspect. In other words, even though the shattering of 
  the Celestial Ladder occurred long ago, not all fragments 
  of the Supernal come from ancient times. 
  The Atlantean orders teach that any fragment of 
  Supernal truth that a Sleeper occult tradition might 
  hold is a legacy from pre-diluvial times. It is a kernel of 
  Atlantean wisdom carried down through time. And this 
  is often true — but not the whole truth. Not all Supernal 
  truths are from days of yore — new truths can enter the 
  world at any time, and become the basis of a new occult 
  tradition. 
  One way to phrase the distinction: Atlantean wisdom 
  holds the most complete understanding of the Supernal, 
  but the actual phenomena (and experience) of the Supernal 
  can be contemporary or from any historical era. Mages 
  who recognize this distinction seek Atlantean wisdom as 
  a means of making sense of Supernal fragments, but it’s 
  not the only key to discovering them. Further, Atlantean 
  praxis might not hold all the answers. It can shine a light 
  on many truths, but some might best be illuminated by 
  the light of a magical tradition — indeed, a Sleeper magi-
  cal tradition might actually hold more wisdom about a 
  particular Supernal phenomenon that all the libraries 
  of Atlantis. This is why certain iconoclastic mages value 
  magical traditions — and why the more orthodox abhor 
  them. 
  Supernal phenomena — entities, objects, thoughts, 
  words, deeds, etc. — that occurs in the Supernal World 
  can, for mysterious reasons, create an “echo” that travels 
  to the Fallen World. But here’s the key: they almost never 
  appear in the Fallen World as what they really are. They’re 
  masked. They become metaphors for themselves. Their 
  forms, contents and even meanings appear different, 
  
  9
  INTRODUCTION
  distorted — but they remain charged with some sense of 
  their original Supernal essence. 
  For example: An angelic choir in the Aether sings. 
  The sound echoes down through the Abyss and into 
  the Fallen World. (Why? No one, except perhaps a rare 
  archmaster, knows why this one sound makes it through 
  and countless other don’t.) But it no longer appears as a 
  sound. It might instead appear as the seemingly random 
  and momentary manner in which a ray of light breaks 
  through a cloud, illuminating the morning dew in such a 
  way that a mortal viewer “hears” music in his soul. Then 
  it’s gone. Anyone who didn’t see it at that moment will 
  never be graced with it. However, an artist who witnessed 
  it might try to convey it by painting a picture or compos-
  ing a poem. How well this secondary chronicle of the 
  Supernal-inspired moment works to convey the mystical 
  experience depends on the skill of the artist and some 
  readiness within his audience; but it’s a pale imitation 
  at best. Such Supernal moments aren’t always uplifting 
  — they can be sublime, in the sense of overwhelming 
  awe, or in the Lovecraftian sense, especially if a bit of 
  the Abyss comes with them.
  Some Supernal phenomena, however, can come in the 
  form of symbols or ideas. Symbols are inexhaustible and 
  can’t be reduced to a single particular meaning within 
  a given cultural matrix — they always mean something 
  greater. But what? It’s this slipperiness, this evasiveness 
  and inexhaustibility, that is a hallmark of the Supernal: 
  the signifier points to a signified that exists in a higher 
  world, a larger frame of reference than an un-Awakened 
  mortal mind can conceive.
  This is why occult magical traditions are important 
  — they provide useful clues for mages that allow them to 
  grasp these stray Supernal ideas. It’s not that the occult 
  necessarily has more Supernal fragments than other area 
  of human life, but it does have more transparency, allow-
  ing those with a trained eye to look past the masks and 
  veils that cloak the true Supernal phenomena. Further, 
  mortal occultists do seem more attuned to recognizing 
  these things, and so they tend to enshrine them in such 
  a way that they aren’t lost over time. 
  The magical traditions in this book don’t describe 
  what their Supernal signifiers actually signify — that’s 
  the Mystery. They might hint at some possible answers, 
  but they cannot know the true reality. Still, using the 
  signifiers within a magical tradition provides magical 
  benefit, even if the mage can’t state exactly what they 
  point to; his understanding of the elusive Supernal 
  World is still expanded.
  The Traditions
  This book provides a sampling of certain occult tradi-
  tions from around the world, from well-known traditions 
  like Kabbalah to the more obscure, like Appalachian 
  hoodoo. Each section describes the tradition’s history 
  and practices, with sample rotes that mage characters can 
  learn, and storytelling hints, including optional rules for 
  alternative forms of magic. This book isn’t meant to be 
  exhaustive; it’s a sampler that you can use to adapt other 
  traditions for use in your chronicle. Chapter Five gives 
  some hints on how to go about doing that with whatever 
  tradition you want to incorporate.
  
  10
  
  11
  CHAPTER ONE: Supernal Correspondences
  Chapter One: 
  Supernal 
  Correspondences
  “…and that is why Crow’s feathers are black.”
  The young Mystagogue scratched at the days of stubble now 
  sprouting from his narrow chin. “That’s well and good, John, but 
  you still haven’t explained to me what, if anything, this has to 
  do with the Supernal secrets that the Awakened of your tribe 
  allegedly possessed. I’m looking for fact, not myth.”
  “You hear me, Quicksilver, but you don’t listen, and that’s 
  why you won’t understand.” The Sleepwalker sighed softly. “Myth 
  and fact are reﬂ ections of one another; where gods walk, lies 
  are truth and truths become ﬁ ction. Can’t you see that?”
  “Seriously, John, this is some ‘wise old Indian’ bullshit you’re 
  trying to sell me.” Quicksilver shook his head and pointed to the 
  ancient pictograms adorning the rough stone. “These markings 
  are unknown to anyone outside of you, the other Sleepwalkers 
  who live in town and, now, me. I need to know what secrets 
  they conceal.”
  John smiled a bit. “And I’m trying to tell you, just like I tried 
  to tell your teacher when she came here, 35 years ago.”
  “I didn’t come here for stories; I came for the power of 
  this place…”
  From his seat, the Sleepwalker gestured reverently to the 
  paintings, staring hard into the mage’s eyes. “These stories 
  are its power.”
  
  12
  His disciples said to him: “When will the Kingdom come?” Jesus said: “It will not be a 
  matter of saying, ‘Here it is,’ or ‘There it is.’ Rather the Kingdom of the Father is spread 
  out upon the earth, and men do not see it.”
  — Gospel of Thomas (113)
  shaping and being shaped by the beliefs and practices of 
  countless cultures, moving down through the ages, and 
  awaiting those souls perceptive enough to glimpse such 
  truths and know them for what they are.
  Just to be Clear
  This chapter, and indeed every chapter in this 
  book, is not intended to encompass literal truths 
  about Atlantis or the Realms Supernal. Rather, 
  it illustrates the symbolic and metaphorical 
  realities of these times and places, echoing 
  down through time, place and the barriers 
  between worlds. Even when something here is 
  stated in what seems to be a plain, forthright, 
  indisputable manner, understand that it’s not a 
  mandate, but instead a suggestion.
  Further, nothing in this book is meant to 
  undermine or invalidate the beliefs that it 
  explores. Its purpose is neither to show that 
  the Atlantean myth is absolutely true or that 
  the beliefs held by Sleeper cultures are abso-
  lutely false. Rather, the reality is to be found 
  in some nebulous middle ground that can be 
  freely adjusted, one way or the other to suit 
  the needs of your game.
  The history of the Awakened and the leg-
  ends surrounding the realms are full of “may-
  bes” and are very rarely adequately served 
  by “yes” or “no.” The wisdom of the Supernal 
  isn’t easily confined within something so 
  narrow as fact, which, by definition, denies 
  possibility. Each idea given in this book is an 
  opportunity, rather than a framework de-
  signed to tie you down and limit your options. 
  Use what you like and discard the rest. If you 
  happen to decide that a given occult tradi-
  tion encapsulates an objective Supernal truth, 
  then that’s entirely appropriate. Conversely, if 
  you opt to use this book as a source of false 
  paths and bunk intended to lead the Awak-
  ened astray, that’s just fine, too.
  The world as we know it is a lie; mages have understood 
  this for millennia. The world as it is meant to be exists 
  beyond the vast and shadowy nightmare of the Abyss, 
  forever severed from the damaged, lesser cosmos in which 
  the majority of humanity is condemned to dwell. There 
  are those among the Awakened who believe that there is 
  no way home, that there never was and never could be 
  after the calamity of the Fall; that, save for a journey of 
  spirit by which some small shard of the Supernal’s mag-
  nificence accompanies a soul back to this plane, there are 
  no ties left that connect this world to the higher realms. 
  Nothing could be further from the truth, however.
  The fact of the matter is that aspects of the Supernal 
  Realms are still present in the Fallen World, though 
  their influence is felt in much subtler and more rarified 
  ways than most people, Sleeper or Awakened, can readily 
  identify. Perhaps the medium most abundantly blessed 
  with Supernal wisdom — the occult beliefs of a thousand 
  cultures throughout history, even unto modern times 
  — allow all human souls to glimpse the higher worlds 
  in some small way and to connect to those worlds in a 
  meaningful fashion. These traditions, concealing within 
  them as they do a measure of fundamental truth, often 
  become the core tenets of cultures, religions and the like, 
  as the practice of them makes people feel that they are, 
  in some small way, doing something right, something 
  important. Cut off from the Supernal in almost every 
  way that matters, humans reach for the barest fragments 
  of otherworldly lore and hold onto them tightly, their 
  spirits aware on some instinctual level that these ideals 
  bring them closer to the world as it is meant to be.
  These shreds of genuine, higher reality are small and 
  often difficult to find, even for practiced seekers, but 
  they are not rare. The Realms Supernal still hold a deep 
  sympathy with the Fallen World, a tie that has not yet 
  been severed by the machinations of the Exarchs or the 
  terrible properties of the Abyss. Those determined to 
  uncover the secrets of the higher worlds hidden within the 
  recesses of mundane lore need only look so far as those 
  beliefs that still encompass the possibility of magic and 
  miracles; that which does not deny what others consider 
  to be impossible but, rather, embraces such knowledge. It 
  is in these places that the wisdom of the Supernal collects, 
  
  13
  CHAPTER ONE: Supernal Correspondences
  The Descent of Wisdom
  The perfect wisdom of the Supernal descends through 
  space, time and, indeed, planes of existence, each indi-
  vidual fragment of lore becoming ever more diluted and 
  flawed as ages turn and knowledge passes from master 
  to student, generation after generation. Teachers of the 
  ancient lore of Atlantis have used many different analogies 
  for the way in which the years have bastardized its secrets, 
  though the most common by far are those that equate such 
  esoteric learning to light, shining down from the perfected 
  world, both in ages past and in modern times.
  As time marches ever onward, the light that radiates 
  from the Realms Supernal, which can be thought of like 
  sunlight, dims and fades as it passes through various 
  media. The long dark of the Abyss obscures the sublime 
  light, as though behind clouds, while the layers of mystery 
  and secrecy necessary to protecting such lore from the 
  Sleeping world act like a prism, refracting illumination 
  into many distinct (and scattered) components. As the 
  knowledge is handed down from teacher to apprentice, 
  one moves further away from even this faded, broken 
  light, until at last it is visible only as a faint glimmer, 
  beheld from the depths of shadow. For Sleepers, this 
  is as much of the Supernal as most of them will ever 
  touch and, indeed, most of them choose instead to turn 
  away from even this dim glow, preferring the unbroken 
  monotony of darkness to the intimation that there exists 
  something more than the benighted world into which 
  they were born.
  The Awakened, however, have the power to choose 
  to move toward that light, to step out of shadow and 
  to behold the shattered rays cast by the prism itself. For 
  most, this is enough, and there are those mages that spend 
  the entirety of their lives piecing those disparate shards 
  of illumination back together. Others, however, seek to 
  look upon the source, to pass back further still, beyond 
  the prism itself, and to stand outside, beneath the thin 
  light of a stormy sky, there to look upward and wonder 
  what, truly, lies beyond the roiling tempest overhead. Of 
  these brave – and perhaps foolhardy – souls, most achieve 
  little, while no few are consumed by their quests, and still 
  others vanish, becoming as much mysteries of the ages 
  as the knowledge that they so desperately seek.
  So, what of those that desire to gaze upon Supernal 
  truth and to grow wise by it? A better question might be 
  to ask what those that have dwelt all of their lives under a 
  bleak and stormy sky would do if a single ray of sunlight 
  were to break through the clouds. Even were they to gaze 
  upon it, in its naked and unadulterated splendor, all they’d 
  be apt to accomplish is to lose their sight to something 
  that their experiences have in no way prepared them to 
  behold. Wiser by far are those that toil in the half-dark 
  before the prism, arduously reassembling a thousand 
  disparate luminous rays and seeking thereby to know the 
  substance of what the light might have been before it was 
  diminished, refracted and scattered in shadow.
  But how do the Awakened pick apart the weave of in-
  numerable lies, to find each grain of genuine substance? 
  There is no simple answer, as the Supernal is both so 
  well-hidden and so deeply ingrained in the flawed reali-
  ties that we take for granted that it can at times seem 
  impossible to know the light from the shadow-play that 
  it casts upon the walls. Do the Norse runes, for example, 
  conceal Supernal wisdom, or are they merely the product 
  of a logical progression of cultural and religious influ-
  ences, coupled with the circumstances of a given people’s 
  lifestyle and habitat? What about the dualistic beliefs of 
  the Gnostics? Or, for that matter, what about the modern 
  ideas of UFOs, psychic phenomena, and globe-spanning 
  conspiracies bent on world domination? Are secrets of 
  the higher worlds scattered in these places and, if so, 
  what means do the Awakened have at their disposal to 
  sort truth from deception?
  First, it may be best to figure out how and why these 
  miniscule fragments of higher realities actually manage to 
  survive within the Fallen World. Naturally, Sleepers must 
  somehow be responsible for preserving and propounding 
  most of the lore in which Supernal truth is concealed, 
  as the Awakened are nowhere near numerous enough 
  to sustain these mythologies and legends on their own. 
  How is it, then, that mundane human beings with no 
  sense for the elusive secrets of the perfected realms some-
  how instinctively gravitate toward these ideals and pass 
  them down, generation upon generation? The likeliest 
  explanation is that the metaphysical “substance” of these 
  kernels of Supernal wisdom is so powerful and compel-
  ling unto itself that legend aggregates around them. As 
  these mythologies change with the times, the knowledge 
  at the center remains untouched, passing down in a form 
  fundamentally unaltered from the first moment that it 
  descended to the Fallen World. In a way, then, these 
  misdirections serve to protect the Supernal lore from 
  total degradation, perhaps into something dangerously 
  unlike its original form, allowing it to be gleaned by those 
  with the understanding and determination needed to see 
  through the accumulated detritus of millennia.
  These echoes of the Supernal survive amongst Sleepers 
  precisely because they are echoes of the Supernal: the most 
  meaningful realities with which those burdened by the 
  Sleeping Curse can connect, even if only in a very small 
  way. Somehow, on a level so deep that it is an ill-understood 
  
  14
  instinct to the Sleeping soul itself, individuals, groups 
  and whole societies grasp the knowledge that this lore 
  is important; more so than any of the profane realities 
  wholly native to the Fallen World. Those touched by 
  such wisdom can feel, in some way too subtle to properly 
  articulate and usually only for the briefest of instants, 
  that existence is not meaningless, and that striving for 
  harmony with the perfected world truly can have a posi-
  tive impact upon humanity as a whole.
  For mages, Supernal truth is something more substan-
  tial and powerful than any “mere” sense of the unseen 
  balance of the realms. The Awakened have the ability to 
  glean actual, functional insights that can improve their 
  capacity for calling upon the magics of a higher world 
  and manipulating this one thereby. While these glimpses 
  aren’t going to, for example, improve their ability to throw 
  Fumbling in the Dark
  While this book is intended primarily for the Awakened, it can also be used to illustrate the ways 
  in which Supernal knowledge is disseminated throughout the Fallen World, even into the hands of 
  those living under the yoke of the Sleeping Curse. While Sleepers may never be able to realize the 
  cosmic secrets that can lead back to the eternal realms that lie on the far side of the awesome gulf 
  of the Abyss, they can, potentially, assimilate and even make use of these hidden, “higher” laws of 
  the universe.
  Perhaps it is that the low magic and psychic phenomena practiced by ordinary mortals (such as 
  those found in World of Darkness: Second Sight) are the result of these “Supernal loopholes” 
  in an otherwise mundane world. Then again, perhaps not: there are few that have studied such 
  phenomena extensively enough to be considered authorities on the subject. Of course, such diluted 
  echoes need not even be anything so easily quantified and overt (relatively speaking); while an 
  unscrupulous man in Haiti enslaves the living in a half-death using only a powder concocted pre-
  cisely according to a recipe handed down from father to son, children in an inner city neighborhood 
  ward off an unknown horror using a nonsensical nursery rhyme. Those that dig deeply enough 
  may very well discover lore filtered down from the Supernal into the Fallen World.
  Perhaps the most important thing to keep in mind in chronicles involving Sleepers delving into 
  Supernal mysteries is the fact that, no matter how much they learn, so long as they remain Asleep, 
  they’ll never really be able to do much of genuine substance with the knowledge that they gain. 
  This, however, can be a great benefit to the stories that your group tells, as otherwise ordinary men 
  and women scratch the surface of timeless otherworldly secrets, uncovering lore lost since the Fall. 
  What do they do with such information? Who can they trust with it? Can they even trust themselves 
  with such potent secrets, the long-hidden enigmas of creation itself? Such chronicles can explore 
  themes of ancient conspiracy, as well as life-altering knowledge and the cost of uncovering it.
  To put it another way: imagine the impact upon the life of a committed atheist, were he to unwit-
  tingly uncover definitive proof of the existence of the divine. How might such information change 
  his life? Now, what happens when he suddenly develops enemies that he never asked for on 
  account of a truth that he never wanted? How did they discover what he learned? Why are they 
  hunting him? What do they have to gain by taking the knowledge from him (or, perhaps, by silenc-
  ing it forever?) This is the level of disruption that a revelation of Supernal wisdom should often 
  engender in the life of a Sleeper.
  fire from their fingertips or to hold audience with strange 
  and forgotten gods, they might just reveal subtle variations 
  in the tapestry of creation that allow for phenomena just 
  a little bit astray of what is expected. By deciphering the 
  cultural traditions (and the Supernal fragments that they 
  conceal), the Awakened can behold something that ties 
  them, in a real and often quantifiable way, to the higher 
  realms. These connections reveal the hidden nuances 
  of the Realms Supernal, motes of wisdom that allow for 
  unexpected exceptions to the laws that govern the Fallen 
  World, suborning them to a superior reality.
  And the descent of wisdom is perpetual. Even now, 
  spirits call to one another in the Primal Wild, their cries 
  echoing down, refracted by the Abyss to be perceived 
  by mortals through different senses: as the momentary 
  glimpse of a majestic eagle wheeling over untamed woods. 
  
  15
  CHAPTER ONE: Supernal Correspondences
  Demons of Pandemonium whisper dark secrets, which 
  are felt in the sting of a lover’s bite and in the aroma 
  the wafts from an old and exquisite bottle of wine in the 
  instant it is first opened. These phenomena exist for but 
  a moment in most cases and are then gone forever, but 
  some fragments linger. And, even in the case of those 
  echoes that vanish after but a moment, the Awakened 
  can, if they have the good fortune to perceive them and 
  the wisdom to know them for what they are, glean power-
  ful insights that might serve them in the Fallen World. 
  While one might not be able to hold onto these brief 
  fragments in any meaningful way, they can serve – for 
  mages and Sleepers alike – to show that there exists a 
  superior reality, one worth aspiring to.
  The Myths and Realities of Atlantis
  That Atlantis truly existed is an idea open to some debate 
  among the mages of the modern day. Naturally, it stands 
  to reason that there was once a tremendously magically 
  proficient culture, from which the current awareness of 
  the metaphysical laws of Awakened willwork descend, 
  though whether it was a paradise of mystic discovery, laid 
  low by the hubris of a few is not necessarily a matter of 
  historical record. While it would be pointless to attempt 
  to reconcile the legends with the reality, certain facts 
  regarding the ancient empire of the Awakened stand 
  out and reveal truths of their own about the value of a 
  unifying culture for mages, even if it might indeed be 
  one that exists only in myth.
  For the most part, the members of the so-called Dia-
  mond Orders, those supposedly directly descending from 
  the cultural traditions of Atlantis itself, maintain that the 
  ancient nation-state was, in fact, a real, historical place in 
  the world as it was meant to be. While not all agree upon 
  even this basic notion, it is at least widespread enough 
  among them – and even among many willworkers of the 
  Free Council, as well as Apostates and even Seers of the 
  Throne – that it becomes a basic frame of reference for 
  the majority of mages from around the world. In the 
  end, this is really all that is necessary to make Atlantis 
  as real as it needs to be. The moment that the majority 
  of the members of a given culture, even a disparate and 
  scattered culture such as the modern Awakened possess, 
  cleave to a single broad interpretation of events, the in-
  terpretation becomes real enough to them as a frame of 
  reference for the distinction between truth and fiction 
  to become irrelevant.
  It is exactly this sort of ambiguity upon which Supernal 
  wisdom builds. If such knowledge were easily discerned 
  as fact, there would be no impetus for humanity to search 
  for it and to question its truth and reality. If the answers 
  come easily then they are probably not worth having. 
  Instead, Supernal secrets descend through the Abyss and 
  so become cloaked in lies, misdirection and disbelief. It 
  is easy to deny the lore to be found within the Supernal, 
  and it is hard to accept that the world one knows to be 
  true is, in fact, the deception. Peeling away the layers of 
  the lie is supposed to be a difficult process. Were it not, 
  there would be no inherent value in the pursuit of the 
  otherworldly wisdom to be discovered thereby.
  The Case for Atlantis
  From a Storytelling perspective, Atlantis can be a genu-
  inely good thing. It creates a unifying “meta-mythology” 
  for the game, granting cohesion to the innumerable other 
  mystical practices, throughout time and the world over, 
  offering glimpses of the Supernal truths concealed, de-
  liberately or otherwise, within those systems of belief. Of 
  course, this is not to say that the Atlanteans were possessed 
  of a comprehensive understanding of the fundamental 
  magical axioms of existence. If they were, it’s doubtful, 
  for instance, that the willworkers who ascended the Lad-
  der to Heaven to become the Exarchs would have even 
  attempted their gambit, given the distinct possibility of 
  the total destruction of everything, their selves included. 
  Likewise, if the Atlanteans possessed a complete blueprint 
  for universal magical truth, then the Oracles probably 
  wouldn’t have to sit back and allow knowledge of the 
  Realms Supernal to filter its way down to the Fallen 
  World in hidden and, often, bastardized forms.
  “While this is all well and good, however, what does 
  Atlantis do for my game?”
  It’s certainly a reasonable question to ask, and not one 
  that can be adequately addressed by a single answer. Per-
  haps it is best to begin by thinking of Atlantis, whether as 
  an actual historical nation-state, a vague ideal, or some-
  thing in-between, as a foundation upon which your Mage: 
  The Awakening chronicle can be built. Viewed in such 
  a light, Atlantis becomes the basic concept that informs 
  the experience of all Awakened magic everywhere. This is 
  definitely a useful tool for a Storyteller, since the process 
  of fitting round pegs into square holes, so to speak, need 
  be no more time-consuming, complex or painful than the 
  needs of your chronicle dictate. Eventually, you can just 
  have characters discover the common ground that unites 
  disparate practices with ancient Supernal lore.
  While you don’t want to make things too convenient, 
  lest all of the conflicts and contradictions that make 
  for a compelling setting – and for compelling disputes 
  between characters – vanish, you can show the charac-
  ters that there are pieces which do, in fact, fit together. 
  They may not have all, or even most, of the pieces of the 
  
  16
  Mad Insight
  It is often said that the mad have wisdom, that they possess a certain awareness of subtler truths 
  of the world and that these insights are more a curse than a blessing. What would become of an 
  individual “gifted” with too much understanding of the Supernal realities interspersed throughout 
  the Fallen World, especially if that person was a Sleeper, or a mage with no formal training in the 
  ancient lore of the higher realms?
  Many Awakened thus afflicted become Banishers. Unable to cope with the truths that they cannot 
  deny and yet so desperately wish to, they simply retreat into a personal reality in which magic is evil 
  and must be erased, so that they need no longer be reminded of the terrible wrongness of the world 
  that they’ve always taken for granted. These pitiable souls must often be put down, thus threatening 
  the continuation of the Supernal lore that they possess. Some wiser and more farseeing (and, more 
  often than not, extremely powerful) mages manage to find more humane ways of neutralizing the 
  threat represented by these broken Awakened, and eventually learn to glean Supernal insights from 
  them, but this is rare. The Realms Supernal are the nature of the world as it is meant to be, which is 
  far from the same thing as saying that those realms are always kind to those that behold their secrets.
  As to the Sleepers that look upon even the smallest measure of the undiluted splendor of 
  the Supernal, no few became visionaries, prophets and leaders, though their insights are typi-
  cally valued only by a handful during their lifetimes. These individuals, dubiously “blessed” 
  with understanding that others simply do not understand, become driven by the revelations that 
  have been bestowed upon them. In time, though, 
  some of these people be-
  come the unwitting vehicles 
  for great change in the Fallen 
  World, as the fragments that 
  they perceive and propound 
  acquire momentum in the 
  hearts and minds of others, 
  and become the foundations 
  on which religions, ideologies 
  and other social movements 
  are built. Most of these sad 
  souls, however, come to fates 
  perhaps worse still than 
  even the Banishers. Inca-
  pable of processing what 
  they now know to be true, 
  they either desperately cling 
  to the Supernal knowledge 
  that they possess or shove 
  it away. In either case, 
  though, such madmen 
  might be the only earthly 
  beings with any under-
  standing at all of a given 
  Supernal echo, lore that 
  may die with them if not 
  carefully studied by those 
  with the training needed to 
  assimilate such learning.
  
  17
  CHAPTER ONE: Supernal Correspondences
  puzzle, but the scant handful of fragments that they’ve 
  managed to assemble do seem to point at an unimagin-
  ably huge and elaborate design, the likes of which no 
  human mind, or collection of human minds, could ever 
  truly comprehend.
  Ultimately, it’s up to you and the needs of the story 
  that you’re trying to tell as to whether or not Atlantis was 
  real and, if so, the degree to which it was real (keeping 
  in mind the fact that the unified world likely included 
  within its fundamental makeup the possibility of differ-
  ing degrees of reality). “Atlantis” might be a code for a 
  Supernal nexus, a place where all the realms meet. This 
  might have been understood by mages through the most 
  apt metaphor available to them in ancient times: the polis. 
  Then again, it might have been a place that one could 
  have pointed at on a map, and whose high towers one 
  might have beheld from miles away, while sailing upon 
  the waves. But, true or false, Atlantis, even if only as an 
  ideal, may well have something to offer your group, even 
  if it doesn’t always seem so on the surface.
  Where Is Supernal Lore Hidden?
  The secrets of the higher world and of lost Atlantis 
  are concealed anywhere that your game needs them to 
  be. Obviously, the ubiquitous flood myths of countless 
  cultures are one extreme example, but others certainly 
  exist, and can be readily adapted to the history and 
  legends of the culture that came closest to truly master-
  ing the power of Awakened magic. Perhaps the mythic 
  figure of Coyote – or another trickster deity – holds 
  hidden Atlantean correspondences in your game, or 
  the lost rites of the cult of Mithras conceals Supernal 
  revelations in their symbols. Not all such lore need be 
  ancient (from a Sleeper perspective, anyway): newer myths 
  can also conceal timeless truths, as Atlantean legend, 
  woven into the subtle threads of the tapestry of ages 
  gradually resurfaces. Perhaps the Bermuda Triangle is 
  the result of the last remaining terrestrial echoes of the 
  site at which Atlantis plunged below the waves, or the 
  deepest mysteries of the Theosophists actually conceal 
  otherworldly lore.
  Most important to remember is that Supernal knowl-
  edge isn’t merely secreted away in places and hidden 
  in things; far more often, in fact, it is interspersed 
  throughout ideas and concepts, in modes of thought 
  and in the most esoteric tenets of ideologies. Too rari-
  fied by far to easily exist in any physical medium in the 
  Fallen World, these enigmas fall from the higher worlds 
  like a mist, curling gently upon the winds and settling 
  in the most unexpected places. Such lore is much like-
  lier to be found in contemplation of the nuances of 
  a medieval Christian heresy than it is to be inscribed 
  upon the walls of a temple lost under the sands of the 
  Sahara. To give a material reflection to this wisdom is 
  to further degrade it and to attempt to fix in form that 
  must, of necessity, be simultaneously as protean as it is 
  unchanging and eternal.
  Of course, all of this begs the question of why the 
  Oracles, if indeed they exist and desire for humanity to 
  aspire toward the perfection of the Supernal, have made 
  it so difficult for those stranded in the Fallen World to 
  discover this lofty knowledge. While any speculation on 
  the will and intentions of the Oracles will likely forever 
  remain just that, unsupported by any concrete facts, it is 
  probable that the deliberate interference of the Exarchs 
  factors heavily into the degree to which the lore of the 
  higher worlds is muddied and occluded. Further, the na-
  ture of the Fallen World itself, utterly alien to the Oracles 
  (who have never truly experienced its realities firsthand), 
  surely interferes inherently with the transmission of Su-
  pernal wisdom. Also, there almost certainly exists a higher 
  order to the nature of magic itself, beyond the control 
  or even influence of the Oracles; in the end, it might be 
  that no human will, regardless of how enlightened, has 
  anything at all to do with the transmission of Supernal 
  echoes. All of these factors and more conspire to make 
  the quest for the lore descending from the Watchtowers 
  difficult and even perilous, which is, all told, probably 
  how it should be.
  Naturally, those Awakened entrenched in different oc-
  cult traditions and who speculate upon the true nature 
  of the cosmos tend to maintain that their respective 
  beliefs hold more “Supernal truth” than many (or most, 
  or even all) others, even if they’ve not yet discovered the 
  entirety of such wisdom. This, however, is really nothing 
  more than wishful thinking. Indeed, a number of occult 
  traditions throughout the world and time have been 
  utterly bereft of Supernal lore, and not necessarily on 
  account of any inherent moral or spiritual failing of such 
  practices, but rather because the higher realms disperse 
  their blessings according to a design unfathomable to 
  minds rooted in the realities of the Fallen World. As you 
  develop such traditions for use in your game, you will, 
  of course, have to determine which of them encapsulate 
  true wisdom, and which are “merely” cultural phenomena 
  (which makes them no less important than those that 
  encompass Supernal knowledge, but instead simply less 
  connected to the truths of those other realms). There 
  exists also the possibility that some traditions embody 
  both possibilities at the same time — they exist in a state 
  of quantum uncertainty until an Awakened observer 
  witnesses them.
  
  18
  Through all of this, however, keep in mind that pre-
  diluvial secrets are not the only possibilities encompassed 
  by the Supernal – far from it, in fact. While mages resort 
  to Atlantean learning to make sense of the lore of the 
  higher realms, the Supernal is simultaneously a thing 
  of the past, present and future as one. It is an eternally 
  contemporary and protean ideal. Supernal phenomena 
  are continually filtering down into the Fallen World, 
  transcending the barriers of space, worlds and time, at a 
  rate that most Awakened would consider stunning, were 
  they to truly grasp the scope of such echoes.
  Mythologies
  For the purposes of this book, the term “mythologies” 
  is used to reference any religious or mystical practices 
  inherent to any culture which are intended to represent 
  a cosmology and a moral and/or ethical bias; as far as 
  the Atlanteans would have been concerned, Buddhism 
  and Christianity are as much mythologies as primordial 
  goddess cults and the classic Hellenic pantheon. All 
  spiritual practices inherent to the Fallen World share a 
  single distinction that, if the legends of Atlantis are true, 
  the Atlantean beliefs simply could not encompass: faith. 
  With the Celestial Ladder, the Awakened of that time 
  were capable of enjoying converse – albeit infrequently, 
  but certainly in a quantifiably real way – with whatever 
  powers existed in the divine realm, thus allowing for a 
  more objective, and inherently faithless, view of spiritual 
  reality. The Atlanteans would likely thus consider all 
  mythologies in the Fallen World to be equally flawed 
  and inaccurate, but such is often the perspective of an 
  overly-proud culture whose members believe themselves 
  to possess a monopoly on universal truth.
  Instead, it is probably more accurate to say that all 
  mythologies offer equal opportunity for aspiration toward 
  the realization of universal truth. With their intimate 
  understanding of the way in which the cosmos actually 
  works, the Atlanteans were, for the most part, bereft 
  of many chances to enjoy personal spiritual growth in 
  the pursuit of greater understanding. When a truth is 
  known, it ends some portion of the worthwhile reflection 
  and speculation in the world, and it was on account of 
  such expansive lore that the Atlantean culture became 
  arrogant and jaded. Furthermore, it takes great courage 
  to admit that one knows little and is willing to delve 
  into the mysteries of faith to learn more. Thus, those 
  that pursue Supernal wisdom within the framework of 
  Fallen mythologies are simultaneously far more humble 
  and, in many ways, far more courageous than the people 
  of latter-day Atlantis could have even aspired to be.
  Supernal lore takes easily to mythological belief struc-
  tures. Because so many of the tales of such structures are 
  parables or fables, deliberately intended to convey deeper 
  meanings on the truths of the universe and the proper 
  path for a human soul to walk, both in this world and in 
  the next, Supernal wisdom transmits easily through the 
  medium of mythology. These stories also tend to explain 
  the realities of the world in ways that go beyond simple 
  fact; no scientific treatise will even be able to adequately 
  explain the metaphysical reasons for why suffering exists, 
  for instance, while mythological tales can handily answer 
  such a conundrum, and often do so in ways that echo the 
  understanding encompassed by the higher realms.
  Paranormal Studies
  Not all beliefs in the paranormal encapsulate a spiri-
  tual vision of the Fallen World. There are supernatural 
  perspectives that say little about the divine and possess 
  no inherent moral or ethical mandate. Instead, these 
  systems of belief maintain that they simply are, and are 
  reflective of a more accurate and encompassing view of 
  reality than those espoused by the majority of modern 
  humanity. Amoral metaphysical philosophies can also 
  fall into this category. Note that these are distinct from 
  left-handed spiritual practices, which are for the most 
  part really just mythologies with inverted priorities. 
  Many varieties of Satanism, for example, are not amoral 
  belief systems, but instead deliberately immoral systems 
  – according to a certain vision of the spiritual reality of 
  the Fallen World, at any rate.
  In older days, occult studies and mythologies were 
  almost always inextricably interconnected, but changing 
  times have resulted in many occult practices diverging 
  from faiths and legends, and moving toward what each 
  such practice considers to be a higher order of occluded 
  fact. While the UFO phenomenon is one that is ad-
  hered to with a religious zeal by many of its advocates, 
  for instance, it is, to many, a search for fact, not faith. 
  Further, the mysteries that the quest for truth conceals 
  in this instance lead to moral and spiritual growth only 
  as ancillary factors to the inherent desire for greater 
  knowledge. Or, to put it another way: even the most 
  devout UFO enthusiasts, those that believe extraterres-
  trial life forms to have some deeper knowledge of the 
  spiritual nature of the universe, still need to discover 
  who and what such beings are before they can believe 
  as such beings believe.
  Alien Practices
  Combining certain aspects of both mythologies and 
  paranormal studies, alien practices are systems of belief 
  held by certain cultures to be inherent to inhuman enti-
  ties. Many cultures throughout time have subscribed to 
  the notion of civilizations of non-human creatures, to 
  
  19
  CHAPTER ONE: Supernal Correspondences
  which they have also often ascribed a higher order of 
  understanding of the essential nature of reality or, at 
  least, a different – and often more powerful and compel-
  ling – view of the cosmos. Ancient Celtic peoples, for 
  example, believed in the Fair Folk, creatures both willing 
  and able to inflict terrible torments upon mortal men, 
  using powers beyond human ken, often due to ideals 
  and an understanding of reality which was simply alien 
  to the human experience. Those that pursued the lore 
  of the fae in a manner that such beings considered to 
  be appropriately respectful, however, could occasionally 
  benefit by their teachings, and grow wise in ways that 
  allowed for greater control over the world.
  When cast through the Atlantean prism, such entities 
  can often be seen as reflections of one Supernal Realm 
  or another, but this need not always be the case. There 
  are certainly many entities native to the Fallen World, 
  which might be possessed of magics of their own; taken 
  in large enough numbers, they constitute cultures. Such 
  beings might unwittingly be the vessels of Supernal 
  wisdom, in whom it is stored and through whom it is 
  Initiation into the Mysteries
  Particularly popular in recent film and literature is the idea of individuals who gradually open 
  their eyes to a world of secrets literally inconceivable to the average person. It is certainly possible 
  to play with such a concept, leading a troupe of Sleepers through a journey into the hidden his-
  tory and occult truths of a world more vast and bizarre than they could have ever imagined. The 
  chronicle might even focus upon guiding the characters toward the Awakening. Are they brought 
  there by their own determination and incisive minds, however, or are they led there by fate? Or by 
  the ancient designs of “hidden masters” in another plane of existence (in the form of the Oracles or 
  even the Exarchs, or perhaps beings stranger still).
  The chronicle might focus on a drawn-out process of initiation into the Mysteries, leading the 
  characters from one revelation to the next, as they discover that the world isn’t what they thought it 
  was. Such characters may well run afoul of forces that they can’t begin to understand. Just imag-
  ine what the Guardians of the Veil might seem like to people in a situation like that, as hoary lore 
  more or less falls into their laps and the Eye of the Dragon seeks to recover the knowledge and 
  silence the threat, by whatever means necessary. The “friendly stranger” that offers clues and aid 
  to the characters might turn out to be a Seer of the Throne, using them to fulfill some prophecy only 
  she truly comprehends – or at least believes she comprehends – or perhaps even a Scelestus or 
  malevolent spirit, cloaked in human form.
  On the other hand, maybe several strange revelations and inexplicable phenomena help to 
  guide the characters to a sudden, even traumatic, Awakening. Without any knowledge of the hid-
  den struggles of the Awakened, however, they are forced to find their own way in a world that no 
  longer truly makes sense. They are courted by unknown parties on all sides and inherit foes that 
  covet the precious knowledge that the characters have, perhaps inadvertently, uncovered: secrets 
  of the Realms Supernal lost to the modern age. Whom, if anyone, do they trust? Surely, the charac-
  ters can’t make it on their own, and they have to turn to someone, but how to know the right choice 
  from the wrong one? What if there is no right choice?
  transmitted. While the Awakened often make the tacit 
  assumption that the lore of the higher realms is specifi-
  cally intended to benefit humanity, this is not truly the 
  case. The Supernal World is what should be, irrespective 
  of the benefits or drawbacks of such for humanity; it is 
  the embodiment of a comprehensive view of the universe, 
  which is, at times, actively harmful to the life of the Fallen 
  World, human or otherwise.
  Superstitions
  In some cases, the root causes for certain mystical 
  perspectives on the world become lost to time, cultural 
  assimilation and other factors. When this happens, such 
  beliefs are usually wholly subsumed into other cultures 
  and are assigned new causes or else vanish entirely. In 
  some cases, however, these beliefs persist, often devoid 
  of any understanding why they continue to exist. These 
  beliefs, cut off from their respective points of origin, carry 
  on as superstitions. In the World of Darkness, however, 
  even superstitions can carry grains of Supernal truth; 
  indeed, some such beliefs may persist solely because of 
  
  20
  the Supernal realities that they echo. Granted greater 
  metaphysical substance due to the echoes that they con-
  tain, the idea survives long after its mythical justification 
  has ceased to be.
  In many ways, superstitions can be the most fascinating 
  vectors for Supernal lore, as they aren’t inherently attached 
  to any particular logical progression of beliefs, anymore, 
  and instead simply free-float within a culture’s frame 
  of reference, wholly unjustified by even mythological 
  evidence. They simply are, and people tend to take them 
  at face value, long after anyone knows the reasons why. 
  Even in supposedly “progressive” cultures, among people 
  who hold to no religious beliefs and have no spirituality 
  to speak of, there are those that will not cross under a 
  ladder, go far out of their way not to break a mirror, and 
  always “knock on wood” to ward off ill fortune.
  The trick, for mages, is often found in discerning the 
  origins of these obscure beliefs, as Supernal wisdom has 
  a way of leading to more of the same. Once a grain of 
  knowledge from the higher realms is discovered within 
  a given belief, the Awakened feel compelled to seek out 
  more, to find where a single fragment leads. Depending 
  upon the superstition in question, however, such quests 
  may be quite difficult, if not outright futile, as such 
  practices readily outlive the cultures that beget them by 
  centuries or even millennia, which means that there is, 
  as often as not, no trail of evidence leading back to the 
  beliefs in which the superstition originated. So it is that 
  sources of Supernal wisdom occasionally dry up and 
  disappear, leaving no tributary that might be followed 
  back toward the greater whole.
  Occult Traditions
  For whatever reason, the knowledge that filters down 
  to the Fallen World from the Realms Supernal seems to 
  be most easily transmitted through occult lore: mytholo-
  gies, arcane religions and systems of magical belief, for 
  instance. Why is this? Those few Awakened scholars who 
  speculate on such matters believe that it is the simple 
  fact that occult traditions frankly admit the possibility 
  (and, in many cases, the indisputable existence) of the 
  supernatural. Science posits the idea of a universe that 
  can, eventually, be quantified and objectively known 
  for what it is. The Mysteries, however, resist such sterile 
  categorization, and so the higher worlds insinuate their 
  realities into this plane through a medium friendlier to 
  the lessons that they have to impart.
  This is not to say, however, that the light that descends 
  from the Supernal is changeless; rather, it grows and 
  evolves with time, the same as any other knowledge. 
  Just as the occult traditions within which it is concealed 
  change with the tides of cultural development and new 
  ideas, so does Supernal wisdom move like a living thing, 
  developing and migrating, consuming and multiplying; 
  even dying, when its time is done. All of these notions 
  are encompassed by most of the Fallen World’s most 
  persistent paranormal systems of belief. Those occult 
  beliefs that are unchanging tend to stagnate and die out, 
  as the societies that conceived of them grow beyond the 
  need for fixed and inflexible schools of thought. While 
  shreds of Supernal lore may be interspersed throughout 
  such “dead” practices, they are likely few and may, in fact, 
  become invalidated by the march of centuries, the same 
  as with any outdated knowledge.
  But what does all of this mean to characters in the game? 
  First and foremost, it means that they absolutely need 
  not abandon all of their cultural beliefs upon Awaken-
  ing. Some mages choose to do so, but other might come 
  to perceive the Supernal echoes within the practices to 
  which they subscribed as Sleepers and come away with 
  the understanding that these beliefs are, in fact, quan-
  tifiably correct – at least partly so – in a cosmic sense. 
  This is more common amongst mages that come from 
  more “traditional” (read: less entrenched in the ideals 
  expressed by the modern Western world) backgrounds, 
  as their belief systems often include a tacit acceptance 
  of the supernatural, on some level. The further one gets 
  from the cutting edge of the 21st century, the more likely 
  it is that willworkers will embrace their Sleeper religions 
  and cultural myths (which come to seem much less myth 
  and far more reality, or at least a reality.) Thus, a Haitian 
  Silver Ladder Thyrsus may also be a practicing mambo 
  to the members of her community, both Sleeper and 
  Awakened, or a Mastigos of the Mysterium in rural China 
  may make his living as a master of the arts of feng shui. 
  Such mages can see, through the lens of the Supernal, 
  the manner in which the practices with which they grew 
  up are real and impact the Fallen World in ways that 
  are, if not necessarily obvious to those burdened by the 
  Sleeping Curse, then at least capable of effecting such 
  people and their surroundings.
  Of course, there are mages from outside such cultures 
  that attempt to embrace and assimilate their beliefs 
  and practices. Mystagogues are especially persistent in 
  their attempts to reconcile many different beliefs into a 
  superior working model of the unseen currents of the 
  Supernal in the Fallen World, with mages of the Silver 
  Ladder following closely behind them. Also, Libertines 
  are occasionally known to apply a critical eye to the ways 
  in which occult traditions interact, seeking new paths 
  that combine disparate beliefs into a whole that functions 
  more effectively than the distinct practices that comprise 
  
  21
  CHAPTER ONE: Supernal Correspondences
  it. Tradition-bound in many ways, mages of the Adaman-
  tine Arrow and the Guardians of the Veil are somewhat 
  less likely, overall, to attempt such studies, though those 
  that do sometimes enjoy great success, as the particular 
  interests of their respective orders allow them to focus 
  on a relatively narrow range of topics. Conversely, Arrow 
  mages and Guardians who are actually from such cultures 
  tend to fiercely embrace their native beliefs, looking to 
  them for strength and inspiration.
  Certain Arcana are generally favored by certain “real 
  world” mystic practices. Generally speaking, for instance, 
  many offensive applications of the Forces Arcanum are 
  the purview of modern takes on ancient legends. Very 
  few of even the traditional tales of wizards, for example, 
  involve throwing lightning bolts, raining down fire on 
  foes, and the like. Invisibility and flight, however, are 
  much more common in such tales, as is the shaping of 
  weather. The shapeshifting powers granted by the Life 
  Arcanum and the gifts of converse with restless shades 
  conferred by Death are abilities attributed to “people of 
  power” in many traditional systems of belief. Likewise, 
  Matter spells can replicate many of the feats attributed 
  to different schools of physical alchemy – as opposed to 
  spiritual, or “true” alchemy, which is generally considered 
  to be a transmutation of the human soul, and is thus the 
  purview of the “subtle” Arcana – or of Legacies.
  Supernal fragments concealed within cultural beliefs 
  can certainly express themselves in the form of Lega-
  cies (see the Bokor in Tome of the Watchtowers for an 
  example of this.) Indeed, particularly powerful Awak-
  ened who are strongly entrenched in the paradigms of 
  their respective cultures can sometimes inadvertently 
  undertake the steps needed to reshape their souls into 
  something unlike other Awakened. The revelations of 
  Supernal wisdom hidden within their beliefs can help 
  to guide such a mage through the process of synthesis, 
  incorporating such secrets into the very core of her be-
  ing in a way that draws her closer to the higher worlds 
  (drawing a small fragment of the Supernal into her, in 
  the form of Legacy attainments.)
  
  22
  Sleeper Magic
  There are a great number of real world 
  practices considered by their practitioners 
  to be magic. In the World of Darkness, 
  these practices also exist and are held by 
  their adherents to be magic; a subtler va-
  riety of magic than that used by the Awak-
  ened, to be sure, but magic, nonetheless. 
  In the World of Darkness, however, most 
  souls that hold to such beliefs are mis-
  guided, seeing providence in coincidence 
  and evidence of their own mystic talents in 
  perfectly mundane turns of good fortune. 
  Metaphysically speaking, the average 
  Sleeper is inert – a pale shadow, devoid 
  of power or genuine substance. Even those 
  rare few that manage to make use of an 
  occult tradition to affect a paranormal 
  change in the world are really just call-
  ing upon the power of the tradition itself 
  – or on something else – rather than any 
  strength inherent to the human spirit or to 
  human belief.
  While it may seem cruel to say so, the 
  World of Darkness is an unkind place, and 
  Sleepers are, almost without exception, 
  a powerless lot in terms of supernatural 
  capabilities. It is the insinuation of Su-
  pernal wisdom into the cultures, religions 
  and other such traditions of those fettered 
  by the Sleeping Curse that gives the bar-
  est fragment of Supernal insight to them, 
  and not the other way around. Of course, 
  it is possible that some Sleepers man-
  age to align themselves particularly well 
  with extant Supernal influences, learning 
  to call upon considerably more potent 
  resources. (See World of Darkness: 
  Second Sight and World of Darkness: 
  Skinchangers for examples of the kinds 
  of abilities that otherwise normal people 
  can call upon when they discern certain 
  fundamental but hidden truths about the 
  unseen nature of the Fallen World. Such 
  abilities may or may not have their roots 
  in Supernal echoes, as required by the 
  needs of your chronicle.)
  Foci
  Because the Sleeper traditions that conceal and protect 
  Supernal wisdom from the hostile environment of the 
  Fallen World are in many ways themselves flawed reflec-
  tions of a higher order of reality, the lore that they reveal 
  requires such mechanisms to connect to more metaphysi-
  cally dense and “Fallen” forms. Such foci serve to create 
  ties of Supernal sympathy, constituting something of a 
  bridge between this world and the higher realms. Mages 
  can work around the need for these crutches, contain-
  ing within themselves enough of the Supernal to forge 
  the necessary threads without resorting to such external 
  tools. Sleeper occultists, however, find that the only way 
  that they can ever (and even then, only infrequently) 
  successfully connect to those worlds is by making use 
  of these correspondences.
  So it is that Sleepers who delve deeply into such wisdom 
  make use of the ritual instruments of their cultures: from 
  fetish dolls, to ceremonial robes, glyphs, hex signs, chants, 
  sacred stones and the like. Important to note, however, is 
  the fact that Sleepers cannot perform Supernal magics – even 
  with foci. Instead, called to an awareness of powers that 
  they do not, and cannot, truly grasp, such would-be sor-
  cerers and wise men clutch at the tools that whisper of 
  a connection to a higher reality, a murmur heard in the 
  deepest recesses of a decrepit and malnourished soul. 
  Still, the magical traditions that spring up around these 
  symbols and ritual tools sometimes inform the Awakened 
  as to the more rarified layers of reality toward which they 
  point, like a compass needle. While Sleepers may enact 
  such magical rites, they gain no genuine benefit for doing 
  so (beyond the exercise of personal belief, which can, of 
  itself, be very much an empowering experience) – unless 
  the Storyteller rules, under a certain, probably unique, 
  circumstance, that a more meaningful connection to the 
  Supernal is momentarily forged. Even then, however, the 
  connection comes from hidden significance of the focus, 
  married to the inscrutable will of the Realms Supernal, 
  and not on account of the Sleeper herself.
  Still, these correspondences are not without value, even 
  to the Awakened. While mages contain within themselves 
  the necessary connection to the Supernal to obviate 
  the need for these ritual tools, their specific tie is to the 
  higher realms as a whole, rather than to an individual 
  Supernal truth. Sleeper occult traditions, on the other 
  hand, simply cannot bridge the gap to the entirety of the 
  Supernal, or whatever level, so they instead constitute 
  ties to a handful of distinct otherworldly phenomena. 
  To put it another way: any mage skilled in the correct 
  Arcana can call up a demon to serve her, but one that 
  employs the exact formulae set down in the Keys of 
  
  23
  CHAPTER ONE: Supernal Correspondences
  Solomon (or in a book of Satanic magic) can exchange 
  flexibility in her practices for magical benefits that simply 
  aren’t encompassed by her inherent connection to the 
  Realms Supernal. These practices become rotes in the 
  truest sense: acts that must be repeated in an exacting 
  fashion in order to produce predictable and perpetually 
  replicable results. At times, this is because the focus used 
  is, itself, the Supernal signifier involved in the magic. At 
  other times, it is simply because the mage, who enjoys a 
  personal connection to a Watchtower, nevertheless does 
  not enjoy privileged access to that Tower’s secrets. The focus 
  in question serves as a sort of key to a “locked chamber” 
  within a given Watchtower, bestowing temporary access 
  to the secrets of a given “room.”
  Putting Theory into Practice
  For a mage, the benefits of Sleeper occult traditions 
  come in the form of spells, specifically rotes. These rotes 
  can be learned at the normal cost, but the prerequisite 
  for learning a magical tradition’s rote is the Magical 
  Tradition Merit.
  There is a further prerequisite: Although a mage can 
  learn as many magical traditions as he likes (that is, he 
  can purchase the Magical Tradition Merit multiple times), 
  he can gain the magical benefits only for a maximum 
  number of traditions equal to or less than his Gnosis 
  rating. A mage with a Gnosis of 3 might deeply study 
  three, or five, or ten different mystic traditions, but only 
  three of them can provide him special magical benefits. 
  His Supernal understanding isn’t broad enough for him 
  to see the hidden Supernal connections in all the tradi-
  tions he has studied.
  Merit: Magical Tradition (••)
  Prerequisite: Awakened, Occult 2, Academics or Oc-
  cult Skill Specialty representing the tradition
  Effects: Your character has studied a particular Sleeper 
  occult tradition, its body of beliefs and spellcraft, and 
  can glean special magical benefit from working within 
  that tradition. Knowledge of a tradition itself is rep-
  resented by the Academics or Occult Skill Specialty, 
  while this Merit represents a special kind of knowledge 
  available only to the Awakened that allows a mage to 
  learn the rote spells of that tradition. Whereas Sleepers 
  cannot evoke magical results from these rotes (although 
  they might erroneously believe the spells do work in 
  some unseen fashion), mages with this Merit can divine 
  the Supernal echoes reverberating in the tradition’s 
  myths and symbols, and so gain special magical benefit 
  from them.
  When casting a magical tradition rote, the mage gains 
  the following benefits:
  • Sleeper Acceptance: When the Storyteller is checking 
  for a Paradox for a vulgar spellcasting, he does not add 
  the +2 dice bonus for Sleeper witnesses. 
  • Conditional Duration: Tradition rotes benefit from the 
  Fate 2 “Conditional Duration” modifier (see Mage: The 
  Awakening, p. 150). Even if the casting mage does not 
  know Fate 2, he can incorporate a conditional duration 
  into the tradition rote casting.
  • Spell Tolerance Mitigation: Tradition rotes seem more 
  tightly woven into the fabric of the Fallen World; they don’t 
  cause as much mystical interference as other spells or rotes. 
  The first tradition rote cast upon someone does not count 
  toward that person’s Spell Tolerance. Any successive tradi-
  tion rotes cast upon him will count normally — until the 
  first spell expires, and then the next active tradition rote in 
  line inherits its Spell Tolerance mitigation effect, and so. 
  So, the first one’s free, the rest levy a cost as normal.
  Naturally, however, these benefits do not come with-
  out a price. The drawbacks of culture-bound magic are 
  as follows:
  • Foci: The mage must use a culturally appropriate 
  focus to cast the tradition rote. Suggestions are provided 
  in the descriptions of the magical traditions in chapters 
  one through four.
  • Environment: Some rotes require that the spell be cast 
  at a particular time (midnight) and/or in a particular 
  type of place (cemetery). 
  • Tradition rotes cannot be cast as a combined casting 
  with non-tradition rotes. 
  • All those participating in a group casting ritual must 
  know the relevant Magical Tradition Merit (in addition 
  to the usual Arcana requirements), although only the 
  group leader must know the rote.
  Each time this Merit is purchased, it applies to a dif-
  ferent magical tradition. This Merit may be purchased 
  only once per dot of Gnosis.
  Traditional Resonance
  Mage Sight plays an important role in the study and 
  practice of magical traditions. Even mages who have not 
  studied a magical tradition (i.e. who have not purchased 
  a Magical Tradition Merit) can still scrutinize the magic 
  cast within that tradition and gain some insight. 
  Sleeper Traditional “Magic”
  Belief is important, even the belief of Sleepers. When 
  they perform rituals or consecrate idols and the like, this 
  affects the resonance of the time/place or items involved. 
  
  24
  Normally, affecting resonance through mundane means 
  is a long, slow affair. Unless supernatural intervention is 
  involved (a spirit, a werewolf’s Gifts or rites), resonance 
  only slowly receives the impressions of the most prevalent 
  emotions and concepts that affect it. For instance, a street 
  corner doesn’t usually have its resonance altered by a 
  murder that occurs there, but it will be altered if multiple 
  murders occur. The “magic” of a magical tradition, however, 
  even when performed by a Sleeper, might have more im-
  mediate effect — thanks to the Supernal signifiers seeded 
  within its corpus of beliefs. The event or item is more 
  meaningful, and so affects resonance more strongly.
  This is a Storyteller option; there are no strict rules here. 
  The key is deep, authentic (not fake or feigned) spiritual 
  belief that engages the soul (not just the mind — this is a 
  spiritual phenomenon). Even though the soul is not awake, 
  the Sleeping soul is still interacting with potent symbols, 
  and the combination of the two is enough to leave an im-
  pression in the mold of an area’s or item’s Resonance. 
  In game terms, such Sleeper “magic” alters Resonance’s 
  quality, and is easier to scrutinize. It normally takes five suc-
  cesses on an unveiling Resonance roll to discern an aspect 
  of the Resonance (see Mage: the Awakening, p. 279). A 
  Sleeper’s tradition “magic” only requires three successes. 
  In addition, the quality isn’t just a word or feeling like 
  “cruelty” or “rage”; it’s a sensory phenomenon, with im-
  ages appropriate to the tradition. For instance, Resonance 
  affected by the entheogen tradition (p. 131) might appear to 
  Mage Sight as a drug trip, with LSD “trails” or ayahuasca’s 
  recurring motif of UFOs hovering in the sky. 
  Note that this is a Supernal “layer” to the Resonance; 
  it doesn’t necessarily appear to the supernatural sight of 
  other beings, such as werewolves using Gifts.
  Awakened Traditional Magic
  If Sleepers can have such an effect on Resonance when 
  working with a tradition, think what mages can do. The 
  Resonance of their magical tradition rotes is stamped 
  with the unique character of its beliefs. A santero mage’s 
  rotes might reveal the very orisha allegedly behind the 
  spell. The tradition’s beliefs seem quite real when viewed 
  through Mage Sight (although the standard rules apply 
  for scrutinizing such spells — their special stamp still 
  might not be obvious at first). 
  Each tradition introduced in this book describes some 
  samples of what its Awakened traditional magic looks 
  like to Mage Sight. 
  Awakening to Occult Traditions
  The Awakening is an occurrence that requires spe-
  cial attention as far as Sleeper occult beliefs go. Those 
  that grow up immersed in such traditions tend to have 
  Awakenings that are significantly impacted by such 
  lore. While a cynical child of the modern West is often 
  inclined toward a journey more or less inspired directly 
  by the images and ideals of the Supernal Realms, col-
  ored by more mundane life experiences, those that are 
  raised to believe in a deeply spiritual vision of the world 
  commonly experience the Awakening through the lens 
  of their peoples’ legends.
  For instance, a Thyrsus Awakening in rural Russia, 
  raised quietly in the old pagan traditions of her forefathers, 
  might experience an astral journey that involves behold-
  ing each of Baba Yaga’s three horsemen in turn, at dawn, 
  noontime and dusk, and visiting the ancient crone in her 
  chicken-legged hut, protected behind a fence of human 
  bone. Conversely, a Maori Mastigos could Awaken while 
  out sailing on the water, shown the infinite reaches of 
  the world by Tangaroa, the god of the sea, and the secrets 
  ways by which he might reach any shore in safety. These 
  sorts of religious-mystical experiences demonstrate the 
  connection of the Supernal to these human beliefs, and 
  the ways in which such beliefs reveal the simple truth that 
  humanity does not and cannot know everything; there 
  will forever be mysteries, the secrets of an occult world, 
  just beyond the edge of the mundane.
  Even mystery-play Awakenings can be touched by 
  elements of these cultural beliefs, demonstrating to the 
  newly-Awakening soul that she is not wrong in her beliefs, 
  and that the unseen world in which she had always had 
  faith watches her and knows her deeds. Symbolism is 
  very important to many of the belief systems that would 
  be considered occult traditions, and their symbols can 
  readily manifest during an Awakening, pointing a believer 
  at the truths that such systems uphold and propound. 
  Even a non-believer could be touched by such a tradi-
  tion in his Awakening, whether in an astral journey or a 
  mystery play, educating him in the reality that there truly 
  are things in this world worth believing in.
  On the Origins 
  of Occult Traditions
  Among the Awakened, the most significant part of any 
  occult tradition’s value is the way in which it points to 
  Supernal wisdom, and the degree to which it does so. 
  While there is something to be said about the things that 
  myths and legends reveal about the cultures that spawn 
  them (exoteric knowledge), most mages are interested 
  primarily in the ways in which such beliefs can act as a 
  compass pointing toward the Supernal (esoteric knowl-
  edge). For some, a return to the ancient homeland of 
  
  25
  CHAPTER ONE: Supernal Correspondences
  the Awakened drives them, while others simply crave the 
  power inherent in an expanded understanding of the 
  interactions of the Supernal and Fallen Worlds. In the 
  end, though, and despite the often pedantic studies of 
  no few Mystagogues, the impetus for mages to unravel 
  the Supernal secrets within Sleeping lore is purely utili-
  tarian in nature.
  For the Awakened, the archetypes that arise repeatedly 
  among cultures throughout time, and the morals and 
  beliefs reflected by those archetypes, are evidence of the 
  power of the higher realms acting upon the Fallen World. 
  Modern social studies declare that the notion that one 
  should not take what belongs to another arose out of 
  the needs of a functioning society; willworkers have a 
  somewhat different perspective. The tenets of Wisdom 
  say that one should not steal and those that do wear the 
  stain of doing so upon their souls, as is evidenced by the 
  way in which Paradox interacts with them, thus demon-
  strating a fundamental aspect of Supernal wisdom. To the 
  Awakened, we do not steal because to do so is to degrade 
  the self in a metaphysically quantifiable way. Echoing this 
  essential reality, innumerable religions, philosophies and 
  cultures conceived of rules and guidelines that asserted 
  that one should not take another’s possessions without 
  permission or a ritual implying the transfer of ownership. 
  Further, cultures that did not or do not subscribe to such 
  an ideal are often seen as backward, barbaric or particu-
  larly lawless, as the spiritual fabric of such an institution 
  is sullied by its refusal of Supernal truth in 
  a way that other human beings sense, even 
  if they cannot readily articulate why. (Also 
  important to note in terms of Super-
  nal correspondences, however, is 
  the appearance of a metaphysical 
  “loophole” demonstrated by trick-
  ster gods and heroes, who are often 
  admired for their larcenous skills.)
  In such a way, it is possible to 
  understand the rules mechanics 
  for Wisdom through the lens of Su-
  pernal axioms. The soul is weighed 
  down by sins, for Sleepers as well as 
  Awakened alike. But the Awakened 
  soul can rise, although sins might 
  weigh it down and interfere with its 
  fate upon death. Those with “heavy” 
  souls might have to struggle harder to 
  make it up the mountain, lest their souls 
  fail to escape the Fallen World when their 
  bodies die. Likewise, other supernatural beings, 
  severed by their spiritual nature from the higher realms as 
  the Awakened know them (or, perhaps, simply enjoying 
  a relationship with those realms alien to willworkers), 
  often subscribe to different beliefs. Because mages know 
  much more, both consciously and unconsciously, about 
  the nature of the world as it is meant to be, they are more 
  morally accountable by far than almost any other thinking 
  creature in the Fallen World. Hence, why the hierarchy of 
  sins for those upon the Path of Wisdom is considerably 
  broader than for any other earthly being.
  Not all – or even most – Supernal secrets descend from 
  the higher realms to the end of categorizing moral or ethi-
  cal truths, however. Some instead reveal mysteries of the 
  hidden framework of reality, whether from the Realms 
  Supernal or from the time of Atlantis itself. The prepon-
  derance of serpent imagery across most of the world’s 
  cultures, for instance, in even lands virtually devoid of 
  snakes, hints at a deeper symbolism behind the idea of the 
  serpent. As an example, some Awakened speculate that 
  the twin serpents of the caduceus are a reflection of the 
  Celestial Ladder. An instrument of Hermes, messenger 
  of the gods – and often considered a patron of sorcerers 
  – the entwined snakes stood originally for commerce, but 
  have come to be associated with health and wellness; the 
  power to harm or to heal. Some maintain that the staff 
  itself is the heir to an earlier symbol still, dating back to 
  ancient Mesopotamia. In this, the Awakened see echoes of 
  their ancient culture, bastardized legends that ignorantly 
  whisper fragments of Atlantean legend.
  
  26
  AN  ATLANTEAN  LEGEND  REVEALED
  Basaida was a young woman of low caste in Atlantis. She was the daughter of immigrants, who gave her an Atlantean 
  name meaning, “blessed promise,” when she was born. Her family lived on the outskirts of the prestigious northern banks of 
  the island, making their way as servants to the household of the powerful sorcerer, Kherem. Despite their status, Basaida’s 
  family enjoyed the prestige of service to so great and esteemed a willworker, and many suitors, handsome and wealthy, came 
  to her parents with offers of marriage. Still, Basaida had eyes only for Kherem’s son, Ashir, who would, she believed, surely 
  one day be as great a man as his noble father.
  Ashir, who was anything but great and noble, however, played with Basaida’s emotions freely, sometimes going to far as to 
  stoke her love for him with his spells, so that he could amuse himself by her poorly articulated attempts at subtle gestures 
  of affection. Still, she was quite lovely, and the young rake eventually took her into his bedchamber, after years of toying 
  with her. Each time she departed, under the cover of shadow and with strict instructions from Ashir to tell no one of their 
  liaisons, he promised that he would soon ﬁ nd a way to break the news to his father and take her as his wife. Naturally, Ashir 
  intended no such thing, though he was more than happy to keep Basaida as a concubine – his shameful little secret – until 
  she eventually grew wise to his manipulations, or else he tired of her.
  Midway through her nineteenth year, one full turning of the moon came and went without what Basaida’s mother called 
  “woman’s blood,” and she knew that Ashir’s baby was inside her, for she had taken no other man as a lover. Instead of going 
  directly to the man she believed would one day be her husband, however, Basaida went to Yrindi, a witch come to Atlantis 
  from her parents’ homeland. Of the old sorceress, the young woman requested that a blessing be put upon the unborn child, 
  so that she might go to her beloved with truly joyous news. Unfortunately, Yrindi had no joyous news to offer:
  “I foresee your tears mixing with the great water,” the witch murmured, staring into her divining ﬁ re. “I cannot bless this 
  unborn babe, for the sea claims him, and I shall not contend with Her will.”
  Furious, Basaida left Yrindi’s house and went to Ashir, telling him of her pregnancy and expecting him to be happy at the 
  news. He put on a paper-thin smile and told Basaida that he must conceal her, for his father would not understand; that 
  she was with child would only complicate his marriage plans. Naïvely trusting in him, she did as Ashir asked and dwelt in 
  a small home on the edge of the sea, along the eastern banks of the island, in a neighborhood peopled largely by foreign 
  merchants. Periodically, Yrindi would visit and offer her skills as wise woman and midwife, but always she would set a potion 
  on the table and tell Basaida that it would be wisest to drink, to slay the child in the womb and spare herself the terrible 
  things to come. Resentful of the witch’s advice but without enough money to retain any other midwife, Basaida tolerated 
  Yrindi’s oft-repeated suggestion only inasmuch as it was the price of her care.
  The birthing was difﬁ cult, to be certain, but Yrindi’s spells and poultices aided greatly in the process. When the boy was 
  laid in her arms, Basaida named him Eku, which was Atlantean for “daylight.” As the new mother drifted off to sleep with 
  her child, Yrindi also noted, muttering under her breath, that eikkhau was a word in the tongue of Basaida’s ancestors that 
  meant, “drowned one.”
  After she had recovered sufﬁ ciently from her ordeal to go to Ashir, Basaida did just that, carrying her infant son in a 
  brilliantly colored blanket that her parents had given to her when she was a child. As she approached the gates of Kherem’s 
  estate, however, the young mother beheld a sight that broke her heart. Ashir stood upon the tall dais in the manor’s courtyard, 
  beside a lovely woman, obviously of high Atlantean birth, and spoke the words of the joining ceremony that Basaida had 
  been promised on so many occasions, as she crept from Ashir’s quarters. Hundreds of spectators smiled and cheered to see 
  the happy couple wedded, and Basaida’s love drowned in an endless tide of rage, betrayal and hatred.
  Insensate with fury, Basaida stalked down to the water’s edge, along a stretch of rocky beach that few swimmers or ﬁ sh-
  ermen ever frequented, wading in up to her waist and holding Eku under the gently rolling tides. When her newborn son 
  stopped his struggles, Basaida simply released his corpse, and allowed it to sink, still bound up in his blanket, and returned 
  to shore. Basaida crept into Kherem’s estate, through hidden gates known to the servants, intent upon going to Ashir’s 
  quarters, to confront him when the ceremony concluded. As she moved through the halls of the house, however, Basaida 
  heard an infant’s cry. She stopped short in the corridor and what remained of her sanity ﬂ ed her. The young woman looked 
  into the nursery, where a newborn child lay. An elderly nurse slumbered in a chair beside the crib. Somehow, to look upon 
  the infant, Basaida knew him to be the son of Ashir and the woman that he had taken to wife. She reached into the cradle 
  and wrapped her ﬁ ngers around the newborn’s throat, squeezing the life from his tiny body.
  
  27
  CHAPTER ONE: Supernal Correspondences
  No sooner had the child stopped his frail struggles than the cry of, “Murder! Murder!” came from the old nurse, whose 
  ﬁ tful sleep was broken by the sudden silence in the room. Basaida only slowly glanced up from the infant’s body, and beheld 
  the aged woman stumbling from the nursery. Having strayed far beyond reason, Basaida picked up the body, cradled it in her 
  arms, and began to walk toward the courtyard, humming softly to it a tune that she remembered from her own childhood.
  “It will be well, Eku,” she whispered, rocking the dead child as she walked. “We’re going to see your father now.”
  Basaida walked through the manor by instinct, emerging into the courtyard, where the assembled guests gasped in horror 
  to see the truth of the frantic nurse’s cries. For her part, the young woman simply sang quietly to the murdered infant, her 
  mind lost in worlds only she could see. It was Ashir’s voice, crying her name in unbridled fury and despair, which brought 
  even the smallest measure of Basaida’s attention back to reality.
  “Look, husband,” she murmured quietly, “I’ve brought our son to you, so that you could see him and bless him. Is little 
  Eku not splendid?”
  Ashir snarled in rage at his lover. “Do not call me that! I am no husband to you, and the child in your arms is not yours. 
  I know not what you did with that bastard, but you have slain my progeny, and I hate you for it!”
  Basaida seemed genuinely hurt and confused, as though she no longer understood what was happening. This seemed to 
  enrage Ashir all the more, and he stepped forth, fell powers gathering his ﬁ ngertips. He was halted in his advance, however, 
  by the ﬁ rm hand of his father, which came to rest on the young man’s shoulder. The old sorcerer shook his head, and his 
  son fell back a pace.
  Kherem stepped forth. “I name you anathema, Basaida. You are Lalitha Medda: Slaughterer of Youth. May you be cursed 
  to wander this world forever, condemned to an eternity awash in your tears, eternally to haunt the steps of misfortune, that 
  you should behold no joy, from now until the end of all things.” At that, the old wizard smote the cobbles at his feet with 
  his staff, and the sun hid its face and the wind grew still for fear of carrying 
  so awful a curse, even for a moment.
  Basaida shrieked and tore at her hair, and her beauty seemed 
  to slip, like a mask the laces of which have frayed. 
  Some beheld her as a creature of fragile 
  loveliness, behind which a terrible evil 
  lurked, while others saw her comely 
  features slough away like the shed skin 
  of a snake, revealing a hideous crone 
  beneath. She ran from the courtyard, 
  screaming in a voice that made children 
  wail and animals cringe in terror, and 
  dove into the sea, never to be seen again 
  as a being of earthly ﬂ esh.
  Between that day and the shatter-
  ing of the world, the Atlanteans said 
  that Basaida reclaimed her dead son 
  and somehow raised the lifeless thing, 
  and that it became a spirit of great evil, 
  bound to its mother’s fate. Others 
  called him morqad, “kin-slayer,” and 
  say that he grew to manhood in the 
  invisible world, returning in time to 
  murder his father with a spear the 
  tip of which was carved from a sea 
  serpent’s envenomed fang.
  
  28
  Exegesis
  In the days after the fall of Atlantis, of course, the 
  Supernal lore encompassed by Basaida’s betrayal and her 
  great crime would survive, after a fashion, in myth and 
  legend. As Lilith, she would be known as a demoness 
  who slew infants in their cribs out of hatred for the man 
  who was to be her husband, while, as Medea, she killed 
  her own children after the sea took her love from her. 
  As Lorelei, she was known as a siren that lured sailors 
  to their doom with murmuring and singing upon the 
  water. As the banshee, she is a female spirit whose wail-
  ing heralds death. And, as La Llorona, she is a grieving 
  woman, slaying her children in a fit of rage and then be-
  ing forever cursed to wander, weeping; a figure in white 
  whose coming presages doom.
  As for Eku, his ill-omened name survives as the Japa-
  nese akuma – a demon or other force of darkness – while 
  the title that the Atlanteans bestowed upon him hints 
  at Mordred, in the versions of the Arthurean legends in 
  which he is the traitorous son who slays his father. The 
  Sumerians knew a small fragment of his sad tale in the 
  form of Enki, often called, “the Lord of the Earth,” but 
  whose alternate name, Ea, can be construed to mean, 
  “He whose house is upon (or under) the water.”
  But what are the Supernal truths revealed by Basaida’s 
  tragedy? Perhaps there exists a universal axiom by which 
  creation itself condemns the mother that slays her off-
  spring. Or, maybe, the world needed a monster that preyed 
  upon the young to teach humanity the importance and 
  value of its children, and so destiny conspired to create 
  such a beast. Of course, the lesson to be learned (and, 
  thus, the Supernal secret concealed within all of the 
  stories that descend from Basaida’s tale) might instead 
  be of Ashir’s wickedness and Kherem’s passionate and 
  ill-considered malediction, and of the price to be paid 
  for such thoughtless acts of hubris.
  The Role of Atlantis
  The truth of the matter is that, whether as a historical 
  location or a culturally accepted metaphor, Atlantis is a 
  convenient point of origin for the axioms expressed by 
  Supernal wisdom. Why? First of all, Atlantis, irrespective 
  of whether or not it truly existed, was the most direct 
  intersection of mystic forces in the history of creation. If 
  it was real, then it was geographically at the crossroads of 
  almost all of the world’s powerful metaphysical energies. 
  If it is merely a tale to be told, then that tale is, of itself, 
  the conceptual confluence of those unseen currents of 
  power; in the Supernal, the ideal and the real are as one. 
  Thus, the reality of Atlantis, on that level, cannot be dis-
  puted. The story creates its own foundation, which then 
  supports all of the myth and legend that succeeds it.
  Further, Atlantis is really the only pre-Fall civilization 
  that the Awakened know anything of substance about, 
  even if only scant details that are heavy on speculation 
  and short on fact. Thus, the truths of the unified world 
  which inform the mythologies and systems of belief 
  that came after are most easily understood when viewed 
  through the lens of Atlantis. While there were almost 
  certainly other societies of power and influence in that 
  vastly different world, modern mages know almost noth-
  ing of them, save perhaps for rare relics and other hotly 
  disputed shreds of evidence (which are most commonly 
  attributed to the Atlantean culture).
  Also, and perhaps most importantly, Supernal wis-
  dom has only been able to touch the world in indirect, 
  metaphorical ways since the Fall. These axioms simply 
  cannot manifest in any manner that obviously conveys 
  their own meaning, but must instead become cloaked 
  behind layers – sometimes, many layers – of mystery, 
  allusion and misdirection. To put it simply: the core ide-
  als expressed by the Supernal hearken back to Atlantis 
  because the age in which that nation existed was the last 
  But Is It Really True?
  This Atlantean fable is meant to serve as 
  inspiration for your own chronicle, as fodder 
  for the stories that you and your players 
  want to tell. That said, though, it’s exactly 
  as true as you decide that you want it to be. 
  If Basaida’s sad fate can help to make your 
  game a better one, then maybe Ashir’s ter-
  rible deception, the young mother’s heinous 
  crimes and Kherem’s dread curse all have 
  some deeper Supernal meaning in your 
  chronicle. If not, then this story not only is 
  untrue, but it need not even exist in your 
  game as a legend.
  This book, ultimately, isn’t intended to be 
  a primer for “genuine” Atlantean history, 
  allowing Storytellers and players alike to 
  glean information about some “canonical” 
  vision of the ancient empire of the Awak-
  ened. Objective truth is in the hands of 
  the Storyteller, allowing you to make your 
  Atlantean legends as real in the chronicle 
  as you desire them to be, if indeed Atlantis 
  itself is a matter of historical fact in your 
  game, rather than merely metaphorical fact.
  
  29
  CHAPTER ONE: Supernal Correspondences
  time that such ideals were completely extant within the 
  same plane of existence as the majority of humanity. As 
  the core tenets behind these fables become blurred by 
  time, and the transmission and transformation of ideas, 
  they evolve (or, perhaps more accurately, degenerate, as 
  any distancing from Supernal truth must be seen to be) 
  into something different, though the essential truths 
  behind them often remain unchanged and, in some 
  cases, immutable.
  What If Atlantis Isn’t Real?
  Supposing that you don’t make use of Atlantis in your 
  game as an actual historical location, what then? On a 
  related note, maybe your character just doesn’t believe 
  in “those fairy tales about some island that sank about 
  a million years ago in the world’s largest morality play.” 
  It can be difficult to make the Supernal revelations of 
  history meaningful in a world in which the Supernal can-
  not be quantifiably determined to have ever intersected 
  with what is now (and perhaps always was, according to 
  your game, or even just your character’s point of view) 
  the Fallen World.
  First of all, keep in mind that Atlantis and the Supernal 
  are not synonymous. In fact, the Realms Supernal and 
  Atlantis, even according to most scholars of the ancient 
  nation-state, never truly coexisted. After all, it was the 
  destruction of Atlantis that divided the worlds from one 
  another. Thus, while many of the fundamental lessons 
  of Supernal wisdom are assumed to have their origins in 
  the empire of the Awakened, at a time when the world 
  was whole, such need not necessarily be the case. Instead, 
  these revelations, ideas like the law of threefold return, 
  the corruptive effects of power, or the spiritually healing 
  properties of true love, may simply be rules that govern the 
  cosmos on a level too subtle to be precisely and objectively 
  quantified by human powers of observation.
  For Storytellers, working from the perspective of a 
  fully mythical Atlantis, or even just a chronicle in which 
  the historical reality of Atlantis is meant to forever be a 
  matter of debate, means that the lessons to be learned 
  from the dispersed wisdom of the Supernal is just that 
  much more obviously important than the vehicle through 
  which it is delivered. In the same way in which we don’t 
  actually believe in Aesop’s Fables and yet can understand 
  and appreciate what they have to teach us, mages can 
  embrace the examples that the tales of Atlantis and the 
  higher realms have to teach without necessarily accepting 
  the stories themselves as literal truth. Even deliberate 
  untruths can impart important knowledge upon those 
  that open their minds and are willing to look past – or 
  even just sit through – the more fantastic elements of 
  such legends.
  Other Truths
  Just to be clear, not all truths that descend from the 
  Supernal are benevolent. Just as Pandemonium’s realities 
  are often harsh and brutal, so, too, might the Aether’s 
  relentless purity scourge the unworthy. Add to this the 
  fact that Supernal wisdom, no matter its nature, must pass 
  through the gulf of the Abyss in order to reach the Fallen 
  World. This means that, on occasion, otherworldly lore 
  becomes tainted by the nonbeing of the Abyss, and turns 
  foul and corrupt. Indeed, some of the less savory occult 
  traditions of the Fallen World may stem from these pol-
  luted truths, which are, unfortunately, no less powerful 
  and real for the degradation that they endure.
  Likewise, some rare few empowered occult traditions 
  seem to connect to truths neither Supernal nor Abyssal 
  in nature. Does such lore have its roots in the Fallen 
  World? Most willworkers would say not – though this 
  assumption may well be a flawed one. And even if the 
  skeptics are correct, it begs the question of whence these 
  phenomena stem. While many Awakened are quick to 
  dismiss the possibilities encompassed by such traditions, 
  citing an incomplete understanding of the higher realms 
  and human misinterpretation of sublime and unfathom-
  able realities, perhaps it is that the worlds catalogued by 
  the Atlanteans in the age of their ascendancy were but 
  few among many. Just as the Mysteries elude the com-
  prehension of Sleepers, might it not also be that there 
  are deeper secrets still, unknown even to the Awakened, 
  some waiting to be discovered, and some that may never 
  be known?
  Likewise, there may well have been nations other than 
  Atlantis in those days. While the stage upon which the 
  great drama of the Oracles and the Exarchs was played 
  out is certainly the most famous – or infamous – land 
  in Awakened legend, by both believers and skeptics, 
  there is nothing at all to say that there weren’t other 
  empires of sorcerous might in those days. Perhaps an 
  occult tradition more readily links back to the legends 
  of Lemuria or Ultima Thule, in ways that don’t necessar-
  ily resonate with those myths as synonyms for Atlantis. 
  Perhaps it is that one (or more) of these nation-states was 
  a rival power to Atlantis. While cities of brass and flame, 
  peopled by demons, seem to have their origins in tales of 
  Pandemonium and its denizens, for example, there are 
  those that believe such a place to have actually existed 
  somewhere. Maybe it was that so cruel and monstrous 
  an empire once stood, ruled over by inhuman kings and 
  princes, an enemy to the Island of the Dragon. Surely, a 
  left-handed occult tradition could easily descend from 
  such a place, as readily as it could from Atlanteans and 
  members of Diaspora cultures.
  
  30
  
  31
  CHAPTER TWO: 
  ,, TRADITIONAL
  ,, TRADITIONS
  Chapter Two: 
  ,, Traditional
  ,, 
  Traditions
  The room was dim, lit only by two guttering, black candles 
  at either end of the large, stone altar, draped with a cloth 
  the rich brown of new-turned earth. The air smelled faintly 
  of incense and of the red Georgia clay. Rabbi Moshe tried to 
  push the stiﬂ ing heat out of his mind and concentrate on the 
  pronunciation of the Psalms, but the trickle of sweat running 
  down his back was a constant, irritating distraction.
  As he recited the holy Scripture—from memory, of course—he 
  walked in slow, proscribed circles around the hulking, inert 
  ﬁ gure lying on the altar. Exactly how big it was he couldn't 
  say, but it was large enough that the light from the candle at 
  its head and the light from the candle at its feet didn't quite 
  meet in the middle, leaving a narrow band of shadow across 
  its midsection. In the Rabbi's right hand, a ceremonial knife 
  gleamed in the yellow light, the reﬂ ection leaping around the 
  room as he carefully, ever so carefully, carved a single word 
  into the ﬁ gure's forehead of red earth: Emet. “Life.”
  With a low rumble like the breathing of something impos-
  sibly large, the Golem opened its eyes and, for the ﬁ rst time, 
  beheld the world. Rabbi Moshe smiled.
  “You will hold the Rabbi up,” he instructed his creation. “He 
  is so old, you know. And then you will show the Seers of the 
  Throne what it means to offend the Name of God.”
  
  32
  Magical traditions can be old, hoary wisdom handed down 
  from ages past, or new crazy cults with little grasp of reality. 
  This chapter looks at two traditions that have been handed 
  down for thousands of years, and which have influenced 
  other traditions that have come and gone since. As venerable 
  as they are, they are still esoteric “inner” traditions, often 
  spurned by the orthodoxy of their cultures. This is almost 
  always the case with any magical tradition — its penchant 
  for magic and superstition, even if these are seen to be 
  metaphors for deep truths, threatens the more authoritarian 
  and “stable-minded” priests and pandits who run the mass 
  religions of which these traditions are but small parts.
  True believers in magical traditions often hold the 
  pedigree of their tradition higher than others. The more 
  “traditional” traditions in this chapter can claim older 
  pedigrees than most, which often lend their practitioners 
  an air of wisdom — and sometimes, arrogance — they 
  might or might not have earned.
  KABBALAH
  Ten sephiroth of nothingness: Their measure is ten which have no end. A depth of 
  beginning, a depth of end.
  — The Sefer Yetzirah
  It has been called the “Yoga of the West,” and has 
  informed nearly every European occult tradition since 
  the Renaissance. From its humble beginnings as a branch 
  of esoteric Judaism, it has gone from being a hidden and 
  rigorously restricted mystical practice to an integral part 
  of the Jewish faith to a historical curiosity and, recently, 
  back to a vital, thriving practice.
  History
  The precise history of the practice of Kabbalah, at least 
  as it is understood today, is difficult to trace back to its 
  beginnings, owing to the longstanding oral tradition of 
  Judaism. The word “Kabbalah” itself means “to receive” 
  or “to accept,” in the sense of a received tradition, and in 
  its earliest use was to refer to the vast body of oral tradi-
  tion in Jewish teachings. Over time, as the oral traditions 
  were written down, the term came to apply specifically 
  to the mystical and esoteric knowledge which remained 
  an oral tradition until comparatively recently.
  Early Recorded History
  The oldest extant texts related to Kabbalistic mysticism 
  date from the later Roman Empire, from approximately 
  100 A.D. and onward. These documents describe the 
  practices of the Hekhalot mystics, a group which used 
  shamanic practices to ascend through the seven Heavens 
  and achieve the throne-chariot of God. In each Heaven, 
  the mystic would have to pass terrible seals and wrathful 
  guardian angels who would only let the most worthy pass 
  into the presence of the Most High.
  After the Hekhalot, the book Sefer Yetzirah (“Book 
  of Formation”) was written sometime before the sixth 
  century, and formed the next major building block in 
  the history of Kabbalah. Sefer Yetzirah describes how 
  God made the universe through the power of Hebrew 
  numbers and letters, and implies that a wise and pious 
  man can use the same knowledge to achieve magical 
  ends. Awakened scholars have often referred to this work 
  in treatises on the High Speech, and to a lesser extent 
  Atlantean runes, and some have even credited its author 
  with Awakened influence.
  The Medieval Era
  Around 1200 A.D., the famous Jewish mystic Isaac the 
  Blind wrote the Bahir (“Illumination”), which introduced 
  Kabbalah in the essence of its modern form. The text 
  is largely comprised of a series of parables illustrating 
  Kabbalistic concepts and philosophy heavily couched in 
  metaphor. It was in this text that the first conception of 
  the sephiroth as emanations of the Divine was recorded, 
  in a form that seems to bear a good deal in common 
  with the Supernal Realms familiar to mages.
  At the end of the 13th century, Moses de Leon, a 
  Spanish Jew and Kabbalist, wrote the Zohar (“Splendor”), 
  considered to be the core text of Kabbalah today. Indeed, 
  Kabbalistic thought was so prevalent in Medieval Juda-
  ism that, for a time, the Zohar was even incorporated 
  into the Oral Torah and considered part of mainstream 
  Jewish law.
  In 1569, Isaac Luria, a now-legendary Jewish mystic, 
  settled in Palestine, where he began to teach a new school 
  of Kabbalah with an emphasis on ritual and on bringing 
  the consciousness of God through oneself and into the 
  world. Whether Luria was Awakened, a Sleepwalker, 
  or merely a mortal who pieced together many smaller 
  clues into a startlingly accurate parallel to Atlantean 
  
  33
  CHAPTER TWO: 
  ,, TRADITIONAL
  ,, TRADITIONS
  cosmology remains a mystery, but even today Lurianic 
  Kabbalah remains one of the most popular subschools 
  for Awakened practitioners.
  Decline and Rediscovery
  By the close of the 16th century, Kabbalah was an 
  integral part of mainstream Judaism, but over the next 
  century or so it began to experience a decline. In the 
  mid-17th century, a charismatic Kabbalist named Sab-
  batai Zevi appeared in the Ottoman Empire and declared 
  that he was, in fact, the Jewish Messiah. His followers 
  included many Kabbalists, and the practice thereby gained 
  a reputation as a font of blasphemy and idolatry. When 
  Sabbatai converted to Islam to avoid execution at the 
  hands of the Ottoman Sultan, his movement collapsed, 
  but Kabbalah remained tainted by association.
  Ironically, and perhaps proving that the Supernal truths 
  will always find their way to light, given time, at the same 
  time Kabbalah was declining in Judaism, its influence was 
  dramatically rising among Christian mystics and occult-
  ists. This new branch of the teachings rapidly evolved into 
  its own philosophy, drawing as it did on the 
  syncretism of Hermetic thought. Most of 
  the Christian mystics who adopted 
  Kabbalah likewise lacked access 
  to the extensive commentary 
  and original source texts that 
  gave rise to Jewish Kabbalah, 
  which further pushed Her-
  metic Kabbalah apart from 
  its antecedent.
  Modern History
  Kabbalah reached its peak 
  as an occult praxis in the late 
  1800s with the founding 
  of the Hermetic Order 
  of the Golden Dawn 
  in London. Within the 
  Golden Dawn's teachings, 
  Kabbalah was largely folded 
  into a larger, syncretic view 
  of Eastern and Western re-
  ligious and magical thought, 
  with the ten sephiroth gaining as-
  sociations with Greek and Egyptian 
  deities and the Enochian philoso-
  phy of John Dee, among others. 
  Some Hermetics, notably Aleister 
  Crowley, wrote deliberately id-
  iosyncratic or blasphemous 
  interpretations of Kabbalah as a way to shock initiates 
  into forming new thought processes.
  In more recent years, there has been an upswing of in-
  terest in Kabbalah among the Jewish faith as well. Prayers 
  and services from Kabbalistic texts have been incorporated 
  into most branches of liberal Judaism. Most, if not all, 
  Rabbinical seminaries now teach at least a few courses 
  on Kabbalah, and a few even have full-time instructors 
  in the field. Awakened proponents of Kabbalah, espe-
  cially within the Silver Ladder, claim that this upswing 
  of interest points to the truth of Kabbalah's Supernal 
  knowledge; the soul wants to fight against the Lie, and 
  even when the truth is suppressed or marginalized, it will 
  always find a way to push itself back to the forefront of 
  the human mind.
  Theory and Practice
  At its core, Kabbalah is a way of defining the universe; 
  specifically in terms of understanding how creation 
  emanates from the infinite, all-encompassing Godhead 
  
  34
  down into the earthly, material world. Kabbalists call this 
  structure the Tree of Life, and mages often compare it to 
  the Atlantean Pentagram in both form and function.
  In the Beginning...
  The foremost principle of Kabbalah is one familiar to 
  anyone who has read Genesis: In the beginning, there was 
  God, whom Kabbalists term En Soph (“no end”). As the 
  name suggests, En Soph was infinite and omnipresent—all 
  that was was God, and God was all that was. God desired 
  to have a Creation that was separate and apart from the 
  infinite, and so within the endlessness of God, a single 
  point of something formed out of nothing. The exact means 
  by which this happened may be the most discussed topic 
  in all of Kabbalah, but one of the most popular theories, 
  as coined by Isaac Luria, is that of tzimtzum.
  Tzimtzum roughly translates as “contracting” or “making 
  room,” and that translation encapsulates the core of the 
  idea: In order to make a “space” for the new Creation, God 
  pulled away, creating an empty space that was surrounded 
  and encapsulated by En Soph but not truly a part of it. 
  The raw, creative power of God could then flow forth 
  into the universe, creating the world as it is understood 
  by mortals, Sleeping and Awakened alike.
  In order to create a universe truly separate from En 
  Soph, however, the power of God had to be channeled 
  through a series of progressively more-refined filters, which 
  constrained and focused that pure, creative potential into 
  a less divine and more earthly form. In much the same 
  way as a factory's assembly line takes in raw materials on 
  one end and produces a finished product at the other 
  end, the divine energy of Creation had to be refined into 
  the forms of the material world. These “filters” are called 
  sephiroth (singular sephira), which means “emanations,” 
  and they can be defined both as processes and as actual 
  realms, like the more familiar Supernal Realms known to 
  Atlantean mages. As the divine power of En Soph flows 
  through the sephiroth, it is changed and channeled before 
  emanating along down the Tree of Life to the next sephira, 
  and so on until it reaches the bottom of the tree, which 
  is the physical world.
  Kabbalists divide the Tree of Life into three distinct 
  paths, or pillars, which correspond to the three basic 
  precepts of creation: Force, form, and balance, or con-
  sciousness. Force is, of course, the raw energy of creation, 
  the fuel for the fire, so to speak. Form, by contrast, is 
  that which constrains the power of creation and shapes 
  it into something. Finally, balance or consciousness is 
  the state in which form and force come together and 
  create, where the harmony of creation allows awareness 
  of that creation to grow. To return to the factory meta-
  phor, without a mold (form) into which to pour molten 
  steel (force), the liquid metal will simply run loose and 
  overwhelm everything; without the metal to pour into 
  the mold, the mold itself is nothing, a mere husk of the 
  thing it should be (this is a topic Kabbalah revisits in 
  the form of the Qlippoth, which will be discussed later). 
  Only when the molten steel is poured into the mold can 
  the final product be created and used.
  Apples and Serpents
  According to the traditional Kabbalistic viewpoint, 
  mankind's Fall came in the form of self-awareness. This 
  caused the world, Malkhuth, to fall from its exalted 
  state directly connected to both the Will of God and 
  the form of Creation. In its place was left a hole, Daat, 
  which allowed the cold, alien half-life of the Abyss into 
  the world. 
  Naturally, the ancient texts pin this occurrence on the 
  eating of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge, but many 
  Awakened scholars point to the Celestial Ladder. It was 
  not simple awareness of self that led to the Fall, they claim, 
  but awareness that the individual could be like God that 
  caused the radical change in the world. Some Kabbalistic 
  scholars attempt to reconcile the Fall and Tree of Life 
  with the Atlantean cosmology, but many argue that the 
  old model of the five Supernal Realms no longer applies; 
  the Fall wreaked much more drastic changes upon the 
  shape of the universe than the severance of the Fallen 
  World from the Supernal.
  The Tree of Life 
  and the Lightning Flash
  Since the Fall, the Tree of Life has taken on a radically 
  different shape. The ten sephoroth are arrayed in three 
  columns, associated with the three forces of creation. 
  On the left hand is the Pillar of Severity, comprising the 
  sephiroth of Binah, Gevurah, and Hod. These sephiroth 
  are considered to have a feminine aspect. On the right 
  is the Pillar of Mercy, encompassing the masculine sephi-
  roth Chokhmah, Chesed, and Netzach. Finally, running 
  straight down the center, the Pillar of Balance represents 
  the synergy of the two extremes, and contains the sephiroth 
  Keter, Tipheret, Yesod, and Malkhut. Also considered 
  to be on the Pillar of Balance is Daat, which is not a 
  sephira at all, but a sort of “false enlightenment” within 
  the depths of the Abyss. Kabbalistic tradition holds that 
  Daat is the “hole” left by Malkhut (the physical world) 
  when it Fell from its exalted place. Daat, the Abyss, 
  and all of the sephiroth individually will be discussed in 
  greater detail later.
  
  35
  CHAPTER TWO: 
  ,, TRADITIONAL
  ,, TRADITIONS
  Between each of these sephiroth, twenty-two paths link 
  the Tree of Life into a symmetrical structure loosely 
  resembling an elongated snowflake. It is by these paths 
  that the energy of creation pours into the world, follow-
  ing a zig-zag pattern referred to as the Lightning Flash. 
  The term is something of a misnomer, as Kabbalah holds 
  creation to be a constant, ongoing event, rather than 
  an instantaneous event like a lightning strike. Likewise, 
  the twenty-two paths, which are each associated with a 
  letter of the Hebrew alphabet, are the means by which 
  the Kabbalist, mage or Sleeper, attempts to ascend the 
  Tree to attain enlightenment and Ascension.
  The Lightning Flash begins at the top of the Tree, 
  where the limitless power of En Sof flows into the sephira 
  Keter (“Crown”). Keter is the point within this universe 
  which is closest to En Sof, and it is through Keter that 
  the power of the infinite enters the world. Keter is on 
  the Pillar of Balance because, as the “access point” for 
  the energy of the infinite to enter the world, it neces-
  sarily contains the perfect, balanced power that is God. 
  Mages associate Keter with the Prime Arcanum, the 
  stuff of pure, unadulterated magical power, but also the 
  potential to shape that power into any form. Accord-
  ing to Kabbalistic tradition, Keter is hidden from the 
  minds of mortals and can never truly be reached—some 
  branches of Kabbalistic thought actually propose that 
  this entire universe is but the lowest of four; four complete 
  Trees of Life layered on top of each other, so that even if 
  a seeker were to reach Keter, he would only find himself 
  in Malkhut once more, having moved “up” one rung on 
  the proverbial ladder of reality.
  From Keter, the energy of creation flows to Chokhmah, 
  sometimes called the Will of God. If Keter is the genera-
  tive power to create, Chokhmah can be thought of as the 
  desire to create, the will to apply force to the energy of the 
  divine and urge it on into the creation of the universe. 
  Without the impetus provided by Chokhmah, the power 
  emanating from Keter would do nothing, merely collect 
  and pool until it eventually filled the entirety of the uni-
  verse, negating the concept of tzimtzum and returning all 
  to a union with En Sof. Mages associate Chokhmah with 
  the Arcanum of Forces, which governs the primordial 
  energies of the universe; according to Genesis, after all, 
  God's first command was “Let there be light.”
  As mentioned in the factory analogy, the will to create 
  is useless without a form in which to contain it. Thus, 
  from Chokhmah, the energy flows to Binah, the Mother 
  of Form. Binah is often thought of as the feminine aspect 
  of God, much as Chokhmah is the masculine form (at 
  least inasmuch as God is knowable within this world), 
  and the analogy is an apt one. Many religions depict the 
  initial act of creation as one of divine sexual intercourse, 
  with the masculine generative power combining with the 
  feminine ability to give form to life to create the world. 
  Of course, at this level of the Tree of Life, the form ex-
  ists as potential, not an actual physical or spiritual thing, 
  much in the same way that a recipe holds the potential 
  to become a cake, but is not a cake itself. Thus, mages 
  associate Binah with the Arcanum of Fate, which governs 
  the ultimate destiny of all things.
  From Binah, the energy of creation leaps across the 
  Abyss through means unknown to the Awakened and 
  reaches the sephira Chesed. Chesed is the point at which 
  the potential forms from Binah can be recognized as 
  discrete entities. It is the inspirational moment, where 
  the idea of a form acquires the potential to be actualized. 
  Some Kabbalists liken it to the sudden moment of in-
  spiration when the answer to a puzzle suddenly becomes 
  clear. Since even the most potent of inspiration cannot 
  spring fully-formed into existence, mages associate Chesed 
  with the Arcanum of Time, representing the transitional 
  period from idea to reality.
  From Chesed, the energy of creation now laden with 
  the fuel to be born (from Chokhmah), the potential to be 
  shaped into anything (from Binah) and the inspiration to 
  determine what it will be, it reaches Gevurah, where the 
  impulses of creation are balanced by those of preserva-
  tion and destruction. Creation, by definition, requires 
  something to change, and change, by definition, requires 
  the old to be destroyed to make way for the new. If you 
  want to build a house, you must cut down trees to make 
  lumber, and if you want to abolish an unjust law within 
  the Consilium you must destroy the social structure that 
  allows that law to exist. Gevurah represents the judgment 
  of what should be kept and what should be discarded; it is 
  the counterpart to Chesed, which represents innovation 
  for innovation's sake. Thus, Gevurah is associated with 
  the Arcanum of Mind, governing the ability to discern 
  ideas independently and make an active choice of which 
  to keep and which to discard.
  After Gevurah, creation returns to the Pillar of Balance 
  for the first time since it originated in Keter. Tipheret 
  is the embodiment of wholeness and balance, wherein 
  creation and preservation are held harmoniously in 
  check. Here, outdated concepts are destroyed to make 
  way for new concepts, but at the same time those con-
  cepts that remain balanced and useful are protected from 
  meaningless change. Mages associate Tipheret with the 
  Arcanum of Space, in the sense of its purview over the 
  sympathetic connections that hold the world in balance. 
  Some Awakened liken Tipheret to a vast warehouse of 
  the cosmos, where all concepts and ideas are filed and 
  
  36
  sorted in an infinite space (thus connecting it to the 
  more literal purview of Space).
  After Tipheret, the energy moves once more to the 
  Pillar of Mercy, to the sephira Netzach. Netzach is where 
  the forms and ideas of creation acquire the primal drives 
  of self-preservation and the urge to be. It is here that the 
  potentials of form and inspiration are given the urge to be 
  made manifest. To coin an analogy, a writer might have 
  the idea of a book in his mind and the ability to create 
  it, but it is the urges from Netzach that actually compel 
  him to write, to apply the force to the form and actually 
  create. The Awakened link Netzach with the Arcanum 
  of Spirit, which governs those most primal of urges that 
  drive the Shadow.
  Passing again to the Pillar of Severity, creation reaches 
  Hod, the sephira where form is given definition by language 
  and abstraction. Without Hod, people would still be able 
  to distinguish between a dog and a cat in front of them, 
  or between one dog and three dogs they could see, but 
  were the dogs and cats not actually there we would have 
  no concept of them. It is Hod that allows the human 
  mind to understand and abstract the ideas of dogs, cats, 
  and numbers. Although many mages would logically see 
  a connection between Hod and the Arcanum of Mind, 
  Awakened Kabbalists have traditionally associated it with 
  Life, after the story of how Adam defined all living things 
  in the Garden of Eden by naming them.
  As the long journey of creation nears its end, the divine 
  energy reaches Yesod, the foundation of the world. It is 
  through Yesod that the higher spheres interface with and 
  filter down into the Fallen World. In the balance of force 
  and form, Yesod is the final layer of abstract creation be-
  fore the physical manifestation of the world. Some mages 
  liken it to the Shadow, and in many ways they are similar 
  concepts—debate between Kabbalists as to whether Yesod 
  literally is the Shadow, or whether the Shadow is a part of 
  Malkhut and Yesod is an abstraction of both the Shadow and
  the physical realm at once, remains heated. The Awakened 
  associate Yesod with the Arcanum of Death, which may 
  seem an unlikely correspondence until one realizes that it 
  is at this point on the Tree that the ineffable, Supernal ele-
  ment of creation “dies” and becomes entirely the mundane 
  dross of the Fallen World. Accordingly with this principle, 
  some mages also associate Yesod with the Abyss (as it is 
  understood by Atlantean philosophy, not to be confused 
  with the Kabbalistic Abyss that surrounds the world).
  Finally, we reach the base of the Tree: Malkhut, the 
  “Kingdom,” which is the Fallen World that mortal and 
  mage alike dwell in. Fallen from its exalted place just 
  below Keter and Binah, only the faintest spark of the 
  Supernal remains in Malkhut. Denied their former glory, 
  mages must scrounge out the faintest sympathies that 
  link them to the Supernal once more, using the guid-
  ance of the Watchtowers to work their wills. Malkhut, 
  for obvious reasons, is associated with the Arcanum of 
  Matter, the crude, base material of the world devoid of 
  the spark of life.
  Awakening and Kabbalah
  Atlantean doctrine holds that there are five 
  Supernal Realms, and that each governs 
  two of the Arcana; the ruling Arcana of the 
  Path associated with its Watchtower. Mean-
  while, the Kabbalistic worldview posits ten 
  realms, each associated with one Arcanum, 
  and with considerably less emphasis placed 
  on the divide between Supernal and Fallen. 
  According to the Awakened Kabbalist, the 
  Watchtowers are not located in any one 
  Realm, but on the paths that lie between 
  the sephira associated with the ruling Ar-
  cana. Thus, the Watchtower of the Golden 
  Key lies along the path between Keter and 
  Chokhmah, while the Watchtower of the 
  Lead Coin lies between Yesod and Malkhut.
  Watchtower 
  Kabbalah Path
  Golden Key 
  Keter to Chokhmah
  Iron Gauntlet 
  Gevurah to Tipheret
  Lead Coin 
  Yesod to Malkuth
  Lunargent Thorn 
  Binah to Chesed
  Stone Book 
  Netzach to Hod
  The Abyss and the Qlippoth
  One of the first things that strikes Awakened mages 
  when they begin to study Kabbalah is the dark slash across 
  the Tree of Life labeled “the Abyss.” Surely, these novices 
  say, this is evidence that Kabbalah holds an understand-
  ing of the Awakened world. Where else would it have 
  acquired the idea of an empty hell that severs the higher 
  realms from the lower, and which denies mankind its 
  birthright of union with the divine wisdom? While there 
  are certainly similarities between the Kabbalistic Abyss 
  and the Atlantean Abyss, and many mages are able to 
  satisfactorily reconcile them within their personal phi-
  losophies, there are likewise significant differences that 
  a wise mage does not discount.
  According to Kabbalistic theory, the Abyss has always
  existed—it is, in fact, the empty space created when En 
  
  37
  CHAPTER TWO: 
  ,, TRADITIONAL
  ,, TRADITIONS
  The Kabbalistic Abyss and Paradox
  Many mages, on encountering the Kabbalistic model of reality, spot what appears to be an 
  obvious flaw, either in the Arcana correspondences or the placement of the Abyss. After all, 
  Paradox comes from the Abyss snatching at the power of a mage's magic as it crosses the 
  Abyss, and yet the sephiroth associated with seven of the Arcana are actually below the Abyss! 
  If the Kabbalists' model is accurate, why do mages still suffer Paradox when they cast vulgar 
  spells from Arcana like Life, Matter, or Death? Shouldn't those bypass the Abyss altogether?
  Kabbalists counter with an alternative theory of Paradox: Paradox is not the result of the Lie 
  of the Fallen World conflicting with the Supernal Truths, but rather the product of the qlippothic 
  entities of the Abyss. All the energy of creation must cross the Abyss in order to reach its ulti-
  mate destination, and this gives the Abyssal entities a taste for that power. When a mage casts 
  a vulgar spell, the energy flares and shifts out of the pattern of the Lightning Flash, drawing the 
  attention of qlippothic monstrosities that surge through the hole in creation, desperate in their 
  hunger to be made manifest and truly real by the power of creation. Their attempts to seize the 
  energy is what causes Paradox. Kabbalists are less clear on the mechanism whereby the Abys-
  sal entities can detect improbable spells, but postulate that it may have to do with the “knowl-
  edge” garnered from the hole called Daat.
  
  38
  these divisions are arbitrary and meaningless; the essence 
  of the qlippoth is formless emptiness; they can have only 
  the forms the enlightened will gives them. Nevertheless, 
  many Kabbalistic mages recognize these forms as a useful 
  fiction. Oftentimes, when a Kabbalist mage's Paradox 
  invokes a Manifestation, the Abyssal creature brought 
  forth corresponds to the qlippa of the sephira associated 
  with the spell's primary Arcanum.
  Kabbalistic Symbolism
  Kabbalah has no shortage of occult symbology that 
  resonates with the Supernal World. Hermetic Kabbalah 
  in particular has compiled a dizzying array of correspon-
  dences tied to the sephiroth. Mages studying Kabbalah 
  likewise often sort their Supernal sympathies by the 
  sephira that governs their Arcanum of choice: for example, 
  a mage casting a Death spell might burn a purple candle 
  or chant the name of the archangel Gabriel while medi-
  tating on an intricate clockwork, all symbols associated 
  with the sephira Yesod.
  Malkhut (Matter)
  Since Malkhut (“Kingdom”) is identified as literally 
  the Fallen World, it may seem odd that it possesses any 
  Supernal sympathy associated with it. What the student 
  of Kabbalah must remember, though, is that the energy 
  of creation is itself Supernal, and even though only a tiny 
  portion of that energy reaches the Fallen World, it is still 
  there and ready to be called forth. In keeping with its 
  place at the base of the Tree of Life, Malkhut's correspon-
  dences are earthy and straightforward: the color brown, 
  the element of Earth, and the concept of discipline. The 
  Virtue associated with Malkhut is Prudence, and its Vice 
  is Greed. Malkhut has less-pleasant associations with the 
  concepts of materialism and stagnancy, both rooted in the 
  image of earth and its riches. The angel associated with 
  Malkhut is Sandalphon, and it has a planetary associa-
  tion with the Sphere of the Elements. In numerology, 
  Malkhut is connected to the number 10.
  Yesod (Death)
  Yesod (“Foundation”), despite its Arcanum correspon-
  dence with Death, also has strong parallels with the 
  Shadow, and thus has many sympathies similar to that 
  realm. Its color is purple, and its element is Ephemera 
  (the stuff of both spirits and ghosts alike). Yesod reso-
  nates with the concepts of perception and the reception 
  of knowledge or ideas, often by channeling the restless 
  dead. Those meditating on Yesod often perceive the 
  image of a vast, infinitely-complex clockwork, a sort of 
  God Machine endlessly regulating the life and death of 
  Sof pulled away to create space for the universe. Initially, 
  it was only the emptiness in which the creation would 
  play out, like a stage without dressings or sets. According 
  to Isaac Luria, building on a story within the Zohar, the 
  initial act of creation was flawed: When the power of the 
  divine emanated into the Abyss, its sheer might was too 
  great for the Tree of Life. Keter, Chokhmah, and Binah 
  held the force, but the lower sephiroth could not contain 
  the power and shattered. 
  The remnants of the sephiroth, like the empty remains 
  of an eggshell after the egg has been cracked, fell into 
  the Abyss, devoid of the life and vitality granted by the 
  divine. New sephiroth were created, capable of holding 
  the divine power, and the empty shells, called qlippoth, 
  lay forgotten in the abyss. But like a thin scum of oil that 
  remains in an emptied vessel, a tiny spark of the divine 
  clung to the qlippoth, just enough to imbue them with 
  a faint life and intelligence, and a hunger to regain the 
  touch of God's power.
  The Abyss, and its qlippoth inhabitants, might have 
  remained safely sealed outside of creation for all time 
  but for man's (and, if the Awakened are to be believed, 
  specifically mage's) hubris. There are literally countless 
  legends of the fall of man, of which the story of the 
  apple and the serpent and that of the Celestial Ladder 
  are but two. Whatever version the individual chooses 
  to believe, mankind tried to attain true knowledge of 
  God, and failed spectacularly. Malkhut, the Kingdom 
  of God, fell from its exalted place in the Tree of Life 
  and left in its place a hole, called Daat (“Knowledge”). 
  Through this hole in creation, the Abyss was able to seep 
  in, hungry for the divine power of creation: the power 
  the Awakened call magic.
  The exact nature of the qlippoth has been debated by 
  scholars, Awakened and Sleeper alike, since the very 
  idea was introduced. The most popular theory among 
  Awakened Kabbalists is that the qlippoth are both the 
  ihabitants of the Abyss and a sort of inverse image of 
  the Tree of Life, sometimes called the Tree of Death or, 
  more rarely, the Tree of Knowledge (both in reference to 
  the tree from which Adam and Eve ate and to the “false 
  sephira” of Daat). This Tree of Death is what the Tree of 
  Life would be if it were devoid of the power of creation: 
  to return to the factory analogy, it is a condemned and 
  closed down factory, full of hollow molds and useless 
  machines that serve no purpose, a home to filth and 
  vermin and disease.
  Hermetic Kabbalah has a long tradition of assigning 
  specific classes of demons to each of the qlippoth, includ-
  ing, confusingly, the shells of the sephiroth that did not
  shatter in the first creation. Many mages postulate that 
  
  39
  CHAPTER TWO: 
  ,, TRADITIONAL
  ,, TRADITIONS
  the world. The Virtue of Yesod is Fortitude, and its Vice 
  is Sloth. The “cold comfort of the grave” gives Yesod a 
  correspondence with the idea of security (especially a 
  false sense of security), and mindless automata, especially 
  zombies and non-sentient ghosts, likewise have strong 
  links to Yesod. The planet that governs Yesod is the 
  moon, and its archangel is Gabriel, the messenger and 
  also the angel of death. Yesod's number is nine.
  Hod (Life)
  Hod (“Glory”) is the sephira that embodies the glory 
  of life in all its forms. Hod is linked with the color or-
  ange and the element of Air, which represents both the 
  breath of life and the breath of the words that define 
  life. In keeping with its association with the naming 
  and defining of life, Hod has strong correspondences 
  with the High Speech and Atlantean runes.  The Vir-
  tue associated with Hod is Hope, and its Vice is Envy. 
  For all that life can be a chaotic riot of being, Hod is 
  connected strongly to the ordering of life, and thus 
  any kind of order or hierarchical structure contains 
  sympathy with Hod. Hod is associated with the planet 
  Mercury and the archangel Raphael, who was both a 
  healer and a bringer of knowledge. Hod is linked to 
  the number eight.
  Netzach (Spirit)
  Netzach (“Victory”) is the sephira of the pure, primal 
  urges in all living things. Perhaps no entities in the Fallen 
  World embody that concept more than spirits, who ex-
  ist for no other reason than to fulfill the urges of their 
  nature. Netzach's color is green, the color of life and of 
  covetousness, and its element is Water. Desire, passion, 
  and all of the pure, strong emotions a human being can 
  feel are associated with Netzach. The Virtue and Vice 
  of Netzach are simple, straightforward, and diametrically 
  opposed: Charity and Greed, respectively. Unsurprisingly, 
  Netzach's planetary governance is Venus, named for the 
  goddess of love and passion, and its archangel is Haniel, 
  whose name means “joy of God.” Netzach is given the 
  number seven in numerology.
  Tipheret (Space)
  Tipheret (“Beauty”) represents the perfect balance of 
  potential, of all things being in their proper place and 
  the interconnections between all things. Its harmony 
  is a bright, glorious thing, a far cry from the stereo-
  typical image of the Mastigos who claim affinity with 
  its Arcanum. Tipheret is associated with the color yel-
  low and the concepts of unbrokenness or wholeness; 
  gold rings are a popular representation. The element 
  of Tipheret is Fire, its Virtue is Faith, and its Vice is 
  Pride. The planet that rules Tipheret is the Sun, and its 
  archangel is Michael, the righteous warrior. Christian 
  Kabbalists connect Tipheret to the image of the Son 
  of God (in the disincarnate sense, not specifically the 
  image of Jesus Christ). Tipheret is identified with the 
  number six.
  Gevurah (Mind)
  In Gevurah (“Strength”), that which is good and 
  deserving of existence is preserved, while that which 
  is flawed and unworthy is destroyed. Gevurah is associ-
  ated with the color red and the concepts of power and 
  might. Gods of war, power, and divine justice (Ares, 
  Thor, the Morrigan, and their ilk) are often depicted 
  as manifestations of Gevurah. Gevurah is tied to the 
  Virtue of Fortitude and the Vice of Wrath, and is gov-
  erned by the planet Mars and the archangel Kamael. 
  Martial arts, justice, and revenge are also powerful as-
  sociations, as are acts or symbols of cruelty, dominance, 
  and oppression. Gevurah bears the number five in 
  numerological studies.
  Chesed (Time)
  Chesed (“Mercy”) is the creative font of the idea, of 
  the potential genesis of the actual from the conceptual 
  and the process of creation. Its color is blue, and it is 
  associated with the images of authority and majesty; 
  sky-fathers and ruling deities, from Ra and Zeus to the 
  Abrahamic God and Odin, are often associated with 
  Chesed. The Virtue linked with Chesed is Fortitude, 
  and its Vice is Gluttony. In astrology, Chesed is ruled 
  by the planet Jupiter, and its governing archangel is 
  Zadkiel, the angel of mercy. Any symbol of power and 
  authority, especially righteous authority, is associated 
  with Chesed, as are moments of inspiration or sud-
  den enlightenment. Some mages, for this reason, call 
  Chesed the “sephira of Awakening” and claim that it 
  is the divine energy emanating from this sephira that 
  lifts mortal men and women out of the Lie and brings 
  them to the Supernal Truth. Chesed is associated with 
  the number four by numerologists.
  Daat (The Abyss)
  Daat (“Knowledge”) is not a sephira at all; it is a false 
  emanation of the Abyss, left when Malkhut fell from its 
  original place in the Tree of Life. To the unwary seeker 
  of enlightenment, the power of Daat can seem to bring 
  knowledge, but all it truly offers is shadows and lies. It 
  is knowledge, but the empty, useless knowledge of one 
  who knows but does not understand. Daat is associated 
  with no color or planet, for it does not manifest as a 
  positive force in any way. Any symbol that expresses 
  
  40
  emptiness or nothingness—a pit or chasm, tunnel, or 
  black hole—has sympathy with the concept of Daat, as 
  do gods of falsehood and deception, such as the Norse 
  Loki or Roman Janus.
  Binah (Fate)
  The first of the so-called “Supernal” sephira, Binah 
  (“Understanding”) is the mother of all form and shape. 
  Understandably, then, the imagery of the sacred feminine 
  is strongly associated with Binah. Mother-goddesses and 
  the fecundity of nature are powerful symbols of this sephira. 
  Binah's color is black, and its ruling planet is Saturn. The 
  angel of Saturn (and thus Binah) is Cassiel, the watcher, 
  who observes all that unfolds in the cosmos. Binah's 
  Virtue is Prudence, and its Vice is Sloth. Divine figures 
  like Isis, Hera, and Nut are all associated with Binah, 
  as are darker “mother” figures like Echidna, the mother 
  of monsters. Binah's numerological correspondence is 
  to the number three.
  Chokhmah (Forces)
  Chokhmah (“Wisdom”) is the divine masculine prin-
  ciple of creative power. Its color is silver, and it is often 
  associated with patriarchal symbols like Cronus, Geb, 
  and Ymir, symbols of the progenitors of the universe. 
  Chokhmah is associated with no planet, but with the stars 
  of the Zodiac, and the angel Raziel. Chokhmah's Virtue 
  is Faith, and its Vice is Wrath. According to most Kab-
  balists, Chokhmah is the highest sephira a mortal mage 
  can attain comprehension of, and thus is the pinnacle 
  of Kabbalistic magic before Ascension. Chokhmah is 
  given the number two by numerologists.
  Keter (Prime)
  The pinnacle of the Tree of Life, Keter (“Crown”) is 
  difficult to assign occult sympathy to, as most Kabbalists 
  believe that mortals can only truly understand it upon 
  Ascension. Only the Obrimos even glimpse it during 
  their Awakenings (a fact that often contributes to the 
  arrogance of Kabbalistic Obrimos). Keter's color is white, 
  and its symbols are those of the Prime Mover; this might 
  be Jehovah or another being the Kabbalist believes to be 
  the supreme force of creation. Keter is associated with the 
  highest virtue of all, according to mages: that of Wisdom. 
  As it is the point of union with the pure and infinite 
  existence of En Sof, Keter is not given association with a 
  Vice (although cynics often suggest, if those mages with 
  affinity to Keter are any indication, Pride would not be 
  a poor choice). Keter is ruled by the archangel Metatron, 
  the voice of God himself. Like Chokhmah, Keter is as-
  sociated with no planet, but rather with the moment of 
  creation, what science terms the Big Bang and religion 
  calls “Let There Be Light.” Keter's number, of course, is 
  one; the number of unity and singularity at once.
  Tools of the Trade
  Kabbalistic magic draws from the same tradition as 
  much of Western European ceremonial magic, and 
  thus uses many of the same tools. Altars, candles and 
  incense, as well as ritual circles and tools such as wands, 
  knives, and cups are common in extended castings, as are 
  gematria (a Jewish practice that involves finding sympathy 
  between concepts or individuals by adding up the values 
  of the letters in their names) and intense meditations 
  on specific letter forms. Instant castings often invoke the 
  names of the archangels of the sephiroth associated with 
  the Arcana of the spell.
  Tools and sacraments are often of the color or element 
  associated with the sephira of a spell's primary Arcanum, 
  and mages will often add symbols associated with other 
  sephiroth which have relevance to the spell. For example, 
  a mage wishing to conjure a spirit of retribution might 
  perform a ritual at an altar surrounded by a circle of 
  seven green candles, but drape his altar with a red cloth 
  decorated with the Atlantean astrological symbol of the 
  planet Saturn and invoke the name of Kamael. The 
  actual spell is a Spirit spell, and even though there is no 
  conjunctional Mind effect in the spell, Gevurah governs 
  the concept of retribution and the destruction of the un-
  worthy, and so it is honored in the spell. Obviously, this 
  sort of symbolic honorific is easier to incorporate into 
  extended castings; instant castings are usually limited to 
  meditating briefly on the archangel or other appropriate 
  symbol of the relevent sephira.
  Kabbalistic mages, by dint of long tradition, use a 
  form of accented High Speech which strongly resembles 
  classical Hebrew. Likewise, a variant form of Atlantean 
  runes more closely resembling written Hebrew has been 
  devised by Awakened Kabbalists over the centuries, and 
  is often used preferentially by practitioners of this tradi-
  tion. There is no mechanical difference between these 
  Kabbalistic variants and the standard versions taught by 
  the Atlantean system, and any character capable of un-
  derstanding one is capable of understanding the other.
  Kabbalistic Mage Characters
  Kabbalah, unlike many magical traditions, is a compre-
  hensive cosmological philosophy often presented as an 
  alternative to, or elaboration on, the Atlantean model. 
  Kabbalah is not unusually attuned to any one type of 
  magic; as such members of every Path and order can 
  be found practicing Kabbalah. Some Kabbalist mages 
  erroneously reckon the Paths' importance based on how 
  
  41
  CHAPTER TWO: 
  ,, TRADITIONAL
  ,, TRADITIONS
  far up the Tree of Life they Awakened, but true masters 
  generally eschew this theory. After all, pride goeth before 
  the fall, and those who place themselves highest often 
  fall the farthest.
  Contemplating the Tree of Life is predominantly mental 
  exercise, and so Mental Traits tend to dominate among 
  Kabbalists. In particular, Occult and Academics (preferably 
  with a Religion Specialty) are vital to a Kabbalist's work. 
  Those who wish to trace the practice back to its roots are 
  strongly encouraged to take the Language (Hebrew) Merit, 
  as many source texts remain untranslated. Despite the 
  emphasis on Mental rigor, Social and Physical Traits can 
  be equally useful. Many of the sephiroth are associated with 
  action, whether physical or mental, and rotes drawing down 
  those realms often make use of those Traits. Many Kabbal-
  ists identify themselves strongly with a particular sephira, 
  and such individuals often prioritize the Traits associated 
  with that sephira. A Mastigos who considers it his duty to 
  embody Gevurah and protect the innocent and pure from 
  all that is wicked and wrong is likely to have Physical or 
  Social Traits as his primary categories, depending on the 
  specific method he chooses to protect them.
  Character Concepts: Messianic rabbi, jaded initiate 
  of the Golden Dawn, community defender, devout 
  seeker of enlightenment, blind alchemist, Solomonic 
  demon-binder, emissary to the angels, Abyss-deceived 
  “enlightened master,” instrument of God's balance, 
  wandering pilgrim.
  Kabbalah Rotes
  The magic of so-called “practical Kabbalah” (as opposed 
  to the esoteric Kabbalah which focuses on union with 
  God) is as wide and varied as the entirety of western 
  occult tradition. The powers associated with Kabbalah 
  are so varied that, at some points in Jewish history, any
  miraculous power exhibited by a rabbi was attributed to 
  Kabbalistic knowledge. The following are a few specific 
  examples of some of the most impressive and famous of 
  the powers attributed to Kabbalah.
  Note that mages who have studied Kabbalah as a magical 
  tradition (via the Magical Tradition Merit, p. 23) do not 
  need to know Fate 2 to utilize the conditional duration 
  effects described in “The Golem” and “Lashes of Fire” 
  spells below.
  The Golem (Matter •••• + Fate ••)
  According to legend, the creation of the Golem, an 
  animated being of lifeless clay given vitality by the power 
  of the Tree of Life, is a feat accomplished by many great 
  masters of the tradition. The most famous version of the 
  tale dates from 16th century Prague, where the Maharal, 
  Rabbi Judah Loew, created a Golem to protect the Jews 
  of his city from anti-Semitic violence.
  Practice: Weaving
  Action: Extended
  Duration: Prolonged (one scene)
  Aspect: Vulgar
  Cost: None
  This spell bestows a kind of life on an inanimate figure, 
  traditionally a humanoid figure sculpted out of clay. A 
  single success is sufficient to awaken a single Golem 
  of up to Size 5, but almost all Kabbalists spend a great 
  deal of time and energy investing their creation with 
  additional Potency and Duration factors. Some create 
  Golems significantly larger than human size; for each 
  additional 5 points of the Golem's Size, add one Target 
  factor. The Golem has a Strength score equal to the spell's 
  Potency, but has no other Attributes or Skills. Like an 
  object, the Golem uses its Size, Durability, and Structure 
  to determine the effects of attacks against it. When the 
  Golem suffers damage in excess of its Durability rating, it 
  suffers a –1 penalty on all actions. If its Structure points 
  are completely depleted, it is destroyed.
  The Golem created by this spell has no true intelligence 
  or initiative. It can understand simple commands, up to 
  roughly the complexity one could expect a dog to follow, 
  and can be “programmed” to respond to a specific stimu-
  lus with a single, predefined action (e.g. “Attack anyone 
  who tries to harm me”). By adding Mind 5 to the spell, 
  the mage may grant his creation a mind of its own. It 
  may be worth noting that nearly all tales of free-willed 
  golems end with the creature rebelling and killing many, 
  sometimes including its creator.
  At Matter 5, the mage may use Advanced Prolonga-
  tion factors.
  Tradition Rote: Maharal's Wisdom
  Dice Pool: Intelligence + Crafts + Matter
  The traditional Kabbalistic rote for the creation of a 
  golem is a long and arduous ceremony, lasting as long as 
  several days. First, the mage prepares and ritually cleanses 
  an altar, which is draped with a brown cloth (representing 
  Malkhut) and on which the Golem's form is laid out. 
  The mage need not sculpt the Golem himself, if he so 
  chooses. Once the Golem is in place, two black candles 
  (for Binah) are lit at the head and foot of the Golem, and 
  the mage begins to carve sacred runes into the body of 
  the inert statue (both to represent Hod and to provide 
  the additional duration from Atlantean runes). The 
  mage then chants in the accented High Speech favored 
  by Kabbalists for thirty minutes before beginning the 
  invocation proper, which involves readings from scrip-
  
  42
  ture and invocations to the archangels of the sephiroth. 
  The traditional target number aimed for by Kabbalists 
  is nine: five applied to the spell's Potency and four to its 
  Duration (allowing the Golem to exist for two days, or 
  indefinitely if the caster is a Master, counting the Atlan-
  tean rune bonus), but the caster is free to set his own 
  desired target number. Often, the rote concludes with 
  the mage writing the Hebrew word Emet (“Life”) on the 
  Golem's forehead and setting the conditional duration to 
  specify that the Golem will be destroyed if the first letter 
  is erased, rendering the word Meit (“Death”).
  Lashes of Fire 
  (Mind •••• + Forces •••• + Fate ••)
  This devastating spell has long been attributed to Kab-
  balistic practices, though most practitioners ardently insist 
  that it goes against everything that Kabbalah teaches. 
  By means of this terrible curse, the subject is “denied 
  the forgiveness of God,” and moreover is cursed to 
  suffer savage lashes as from a whip of fire each time he 
  transgresses.
  Practice: Patterning
  Action: Extended
  Duration: Prolonged (one scene)
  Aspect: Vulgar
  Cost: 1 Mana
  By means of this spell, the target is rendered unable 
  to “achieve forgiveness,” as Kabbalists put it. In game 
  terms, this takes the form of a compulsion forbidding 
  the subject from increasing his Wisdom or relevant Mo-
  rality Trait for the duration of the spell. The subject, of 
  course, does not think in terms of ratings and experience 
  points; the compulsion merely prevents the subject from 
  coming to terms with his own sins. Moreover, should 
  the target lose a point of Wisdom for any reason during 
  the spell's duration, he takes damage equal to the spell's 
  Potency (reduced by armor if the subject's armor can 
  protect against fire) as invisible whips of flame scour his 
  flesh. Note that suffering this damage does not end the 
  spell — flagrant sinners can be (and have been) killed 
  by this spell. At Mind 5, the caster may use Advanced 
  Prolongation factors.
  Tradition Rote: Pulsa di Nura
  Dice Pool: Presence + Intimidation + Mind
  Because of the elaborate casting rit-
  ual traditionally involved, many 
  Kabbalists incorporate 
  Space 2 to cast this rote 
  sympathetically. The 
  Pulsa di Nura, as this 
  spell is traditionally 
  named, begins in the 
  Kabbalist's preferred 
  ritual space. An altar 
  draped with red cloth 
  (for Gevurah) and set 
  with purple candles 
  (for Yesod and Death) 
  is the centerpiece 
  of the ritual. As 
  with most Kabbalist 
  spells, it begins with 
  chanting in the High 
  Speech for a half an 
  hour. Once the ritual 
  proper is begun, the 
  mage takes up a silver dagger 
  (representing both Chokhmah 
  and his desire to do harm), with 
  which he traces the names of 
  Michael and Kamael in the air 
  above the altar. Finally, at the completion 
  
  43
  CHAPTER TWO: 
  ,, TRADITIONAL
  ,, TRADITIONS
  of the casting, he pierces an image of the desired target 
  (or another object which has sympathy to the target) 
  with the dagger, then transfers the object to a burning 
  brazier to be consumed. If the ritual is performed during 
  the astrological hour of Mars (for example, at dawn on 
  a Tuesday), the Mana cost is waived.
  There is no common consensus as to the appropriate 
  number of successes the willworker should target with 
  this spell. Most agree that it should last no less than two 
  days, so five successes are often allocated to Duration; 
  alternately, the spell's conditional duration is often set so 
  that the spell expires if the target deviates from a course 
  of action the caster finds displeasing — for example, a 
  Pulsa di Nura cast on a businessman might be set to end 
  if the target gives up his efforts to buy the apartment 
  building that houses the mage's sanctum. Successes 
  devoted to Potency range from one (if the caster only 
  wishes to gently goad the target) to ten or more for truly 
  Biblical-scale vengeance. 
  Climbing the Tree
  (Mind •••• + Any Arcanum •••)
  A great part of the teaching of Kabbalah involves the 
  mage's efforts to understand and achieve union with the 
  Tree of Life. Kabbalists see this as a form of metaphysical 
  “climbing” of the Tree to reach the higher sephiroth and 
  greater understanding. Traditionally this is accomplished 
  by intense meditation and prayer; this spell allows the 
  Kabbalist to make the journey more literal.
  Practice: Weaving
  Action: Extended
  Duration: Prolonged (one scene)
  Aspect: Covert
  Cost: None
  This spell must be cast in conjunction with an astral 
  journey (see Mage: the Awakening p. 283). Upon cast-
  ing this spell, the mage shapes the Astral Plane around 
  him into a representation of one of the sephiroth he has 
  gained an understanding of (that associated with the 
  conjunctional Arcanum of the spell). He can interact 
  with the angels and spirits of that sephira and gain wisdom 
  and understanding of its principles. The exact effects of 
  this wisdom varies; in general, if the mage overcomes the 
  challenges and seals that guard the sephira's mysteries, he 
  should earn 1-3 Arcane experience points depending on 
  the difficulty of the challenge. According to Kabbalist doc-
  trine, the key to Ascension is to use this spell to journey 
  completely up the Tree of Life, from Malkhut all the way 
  to Keter, navigating each sephira in turn. This obviously 
  requires considerable mystical power, and there are few 
  if any reliable cases of a mage achieving this goal.
  Tradition Rote: The Serpent's Path
  Dice Pool: Resolve + Occult + Mind
  Just as energy travels down the Tree of Life in the 
  Lightning Flash, so too does it ascend once more in the 
  Serpent's Path. The mage who climbs that treacherous 
  road and passes all the wrathful guardian angels set 
  over it will achieve unity with God, or so they say. This 
  rote is one of the more subdued Kabbalistic rituals: 
  the mage dons a purple robe (even if Yesod is not his 
  ultimate destination, it is the traditional “beginning” 
  of the road). Surrounded by foci that represent his goal, 
  the mage meditates until he slips into the Astral Plane, 
  then continues meditating on the names of God and 
  the archangels of the sephiroth. When the spell is com-
  plete, the mage enters the “realm” of the sephira, and 
  can interact with its inhabitants. If he overcomes their 
  challenges and riddles, he may gain enlightenment. If 
  he fails, the result could be messy to say the least.
  Magic Items
  For the most part, Kabbalah is an internal tradition, 
  focusing on the practitioner's enlightenment over exter-
  nal symbols. As such, there are comparatively few magic 
  items associated with the tradition. A few, however, 
  have gained prominence among occultists, and even 
  popular culture.
  The Golem
  The Kabbalist spell described above is certainly one 
  interpretation of the myth, but some mages consider it 
  to be only a recreation of the legend, which dates back 
  to antiquity and often attributes strange behaviors to the 
  Golem. Some argue that the original golem was a curse, a 
  trap laid for the hubris-filled mages of an earlier time.
  Golem as Imbued Item (•••••)
  This version of the Golem is a simple, animated statue 
  imbued with the Maharal's Wisdom rote described 
  above. The Golem is a roughly man-sized figure, with 
  crudely human features hewn from white clay etched 
  with countless mystic runes. It has a Size of 5, Strength 
  6, a Durability of 3 and 10 points of Structure. The 
  Golem can understand moderately-complex commands, 
  and will defend its owner without any instruction. The 
  word “Emet” is written on its forehead; if the first letter 
  of the word is erased (and remember, Hebrew is written 
  right-to-left), the Golem ceases to function.
  Golem as Curse (Imbued Item •••••)
  Outwardly, this Golem resembles the one described 
  above; it even has similar Traits. This Golem, though, has 
  a different Fate-based trigger. Any time its owner orders 
  the golem to commit an act of hubris, mark a “Resistance” 
  
  44
  point in the Golem's statistics. When five of these points 
  have accumulated, the Golem goes berserk and begins 
  killing and destroying randomly. It no longer responds 
  to its “owner” and must be destroyed or shut down.
  The Rabbi's Cane
  According to legend, the Maharal of Prague, the legend-
  ary Rabbi Judah Loew, possessed a marvelous walking 
  stick which he could use to summon the shades of the 
  dead. These restless ghosts would often testify at criminal 
  proceedings, providing evidence to exonerate persecuted 
  Jews. Some say the story is a myth, others say that the 
  cane was an artifact or the Rabbi's personal dedicated 
  tool. In either form, the cane is a simple walking stick 
  of black-lacquered wood, with an unadorned handgrip 
  well-worn from use. When the light catches the lacquer 
  just right, the observant eye can make out Atlantean 
  runes carved into the wood below.
  The Cane as Artifact (••••••••)
  The artifact form of the Rabbi's cane came into Loew's 
  possession from a mysterious source during his stay in 
  Moravia. The cane has the power to invoke the Death 
  5 “Summon the Dead” spell, drawing the shades of the 
  dead up from the Underworld. It further incorporates 
  the Death 3 “Control Ghost” spell so that the owner can 
  compel summoned ghosts to speak truly. Both effects 
  last for one scene.
  The Cane as Magical Tool
  According to the tales, Rabbi Loew was a Kabbalistic 
  mage of considerable power. This cane was his dedicated 
  Path tool, which he used to aid him in calling down the 
  Supernal; it has no intrinsic mystical properties, but in 
  the hands of a skilled diviner its sympathetic connection 
  to the old mage could make it a tremendously useful 
  tool. Who knows what secret treasures the threads of 
  sympathy might lead to, or what secrets the Maharal's 
  shade might share with a necromancer who called him 
  forth with the cane's sympathy?
  Storytelling
  Kabbalah presents a complete, comprehensive cosmol-
  ogy that can either compliment, compete with, or even 
  supplant the Atlantean system. You can run a very novel 
  game in which any of the three are true. The last option 
  obviously differs from the view presented in the Mage 
  rulebook, but it can make for an intriguing new twist 
  on the setting. Consider the Storytelling possibilities 
  inherent in a chronicle built entirely around the rich 
  symbolism and esoteric mystery of the Kabbalah; hidden 
  meanings and symbols abound, and every new level of an 
  Arcanum learned is another step toward enlightenment. 
  Story Hooks: 
  Roots and Branches
  • Choking the Tree: It is the driving goal 
  of Abyssal entities in the Kabbalistic world-
  view to reunite with the energy of creation. 
  Recently, a group of powerful Scelesti has 
  discovered a ritual they believe will accom-
  plish this goal; a mighty spell that aims to ac-
  tually choke off the sephira Binah, leaving no 
  receptacle for the energy flowing forth from 
  Chokhmah. Left unchecked, the pure stuff of 
  creation will overrun the universe, dissolving 
  all creation back into unity with En Sof.
  • The Tree of Death: Over the past few 
  weeks, three murders have caught the eyes 
  of the Guardians of the Veil. Each victim 
  was brutally killed in a ritual manner, and 
  carved into their flesh were the Kabbalis-
  tic terms for the qlippothic demons of the 
  sephiroth Keter, Chokhmah, and Binah. 
  Each victim in some way embodied or in-
  dulged in the sins associated with those en-
  tities. With seven more sephiroth to go, the 
  killer must be found and stopped, but when 
  his choice of victims comes to focus on 
  truly heinous individuals, the choice might 
  become more difficult than some would like.
  • The Lost Sephiroth: One of the most 
  prominent masters of Kabbalah in the local 
  Consilium believes that Kabbalists have 
  been entirely too swift to dismiss Daat as 
  a mere trap to deceive those not discerning 
  enough to pass it by. He believes there is 
  vital knowledge about the world before the 
  Fall to be had within its ruined shell. The 
  master's plan to mount an astral explo-
  ration of the “lost sephira” has met with 
  enthusiastic approval by younger, more 
  radical thinkers, but the Hierarch and his 
  council think the whole thing smacks of 
  Scelestus-talk. The players might come 
  down on either side of the debate, fending 
  off Abyssal entities while the scholars make 
  their examinations, or they might staunchly 
  try to stop the expedition from taking place 
  — or deal with the fallout when the party 
  returns... changed somehow.
  
  45
  CHAPTER TWO: 
  ,, TRADITIONAL
  ,, TRADITIONS
  In such a chronicle, Ascension might be a very real and 
  ultimate goal of many or all characters —and there are 
  certainly those who see enlightenment as a “me or you” 
  prospect and do everything in their power to advance 
  their own enlightenment over their rivals. The film Pi 
  could be seen as an example of this type of story.
  Of course, Kabbalah can also be used to simply provide 
  an interesting alternative to the Atlantean orthodoxy. 
  Mysterium mages, in particular, delight in discussing 
  philosophical differences as to the nature of reality. As 
  anyone who has ever worked in academia can tell you, 
  this process isn't necessarily as civilized as it sounds. 
  Backbiting, political pressure, and even outright sabotage 
  can mar the “gentleman's” disagreement. For inspiration, 
  turn to historical accounts of any Crusade or Inquisition 
  toward an alternative religion. Movies like The Name of 
  the Rose might not deal specifically with Kabbalah, but 
  they do provide an interesting example of the savagery 
  with which the establishment can defend its view.
  Kabbalah can also make excellent fodder for a chronicle 
  centered around astral journeys. Kabbalists devote much 
  of their time to acquiring as much knowledge of the Tree 
  of Life as they can, both by studying earthly accounts of 
  Kabbalah and by entering the Astral Planes to climb their 
  own, personal Tree, a sort of microcosm of creation's mac-
  rocosmic Tree. Like any astral journey, a trip along the Tree 
  of Life is no less dangerous for being “all in your head,” 
  nor is the wisdom to be gained from the inhabitants of the 
  sephiroth to be devalued because it comes from within. For 
  inspiration for such a chronicle, look no further than the 
  graphic novel series Promethea, which devotes quite a few 
  issues to its heroine undertaking just such a journey.
  Alternative Magic 
  (Storyteller's Options)
  With a few small modifications to the magic system of 
  Awakening, Kabbalistic theory and wisdom can easily be 
  brought to the forefront of your chronicle if you so desire. 
  Consider employing one or more of the following optional 
  rules to give Kabbalah a larger share of the spotlight.
  • Harmonious Magic: A Kabbalist mage understands 
  that, while the Arcana are the tools by which he shapes 
  reality, the power of the sephiroth is what creates that 
  reality in the first place. Accordingly, he learns to lessen 
  the impact of his spells on the Fallen World when he 
  acts in accordance with the sephiroth.
  In game terms, the mage may reduce his Paradox dice 
  pool by –1 die when he casts a spell whose intended 
  effect is in harmony with the nature of the sephira as-
  sociated with it. For example, casting a Forces spell to 
  give power (that is, “life”) to a machine would qualify, 
  because Chokhmah deals with the concept of the pri-
  mal life-giving, generative force. Likewise, a Spirit spell 
  to conjure a spirit that will urge the target to fulfill her 
  primal urges qualifies, but summoning a death-spirit to 
  attack an enemy would not.
  • Awakening to the Sephiroth: When a mage Awak-
  ens, he journeys to one of the five Watchtowers, each of 
  which exists in two sephiroth at once. The mage journeys 
  to one manifestation of the Watchtower, which grants 
  him an additional affinity to one of the ruling Arcana of 
  his Path. At character creation, choose one of the ruling 
  Arcana of your character's Path. That Arcanum costs only 
  new dots x 5 to increase. However, this affinity makes it 
  harder to learn the Arcanum opposed to your primary 
  affinity. The cost to increase your inferior Arcanum 
  increases to new dots x 9.
  • Kabbalistic Conjunction: The Arcana are associated 
  with the sephiroth, but the sephiroth are more than the 
  Arcana. A Kabbalist understands that, and knows how to 
  draw down the power of creation in novel ways. Whenever 
  he casts a conjunctional spell, a Kabbalist may replace the 
  normal conjunctional Arcanum with the Arcanum associ-
  ated with the sephira which most closely matches the effect 
  of the spell. For example, a spell which would ordinarily 
  have a conjunctional Mind effect to allow the caster to 
  speak any language could use Life instead, because Life 
  is associated with Hod, the sephira of the power of words 
  and languages. The caster must have one more dot in the 
  sephira-associated Arcanum than the spell would require. 
  In chronicles using this rule, the common names of the 
  Arcana might be downplayed in favor of calling them by 
  their sephiroth's name. A Moros wouldn't call himself a 
  Master of Death, but a Master of Yesod.
  • The Virtue of Man: Kabbalah places a great store in 
  virtuous thought and deed, and posits that virtue is the 
  only way to truly achieve enlightenment and Ascension. 
  The universe rewards the virtuous; and as such, whenever 
  the casting of a spell would count as the mage fulfilling 
  her Virtue, in addition to regaining all spent Willpower, 
  she gains a point of Mana. For all that Virtue is exalted, 
  Vice is also powerful —Kabbalah sees the Vices as traps, 
  illusions set out by the qlippoth to lead the unwary astray 
  from Wisdom. The Abyss wants to lure mages into hubris 
  and folly, and so it holds back its sting when a mage gives 
  in to his weaker impulses. Whenever the casting of a 
  spell would count as the fulfillment of the mage's Vice, 
  he gains a Willpower point, but also subtracts one die 
  from his Paradox pool if the spell is vulgar.
  
  46
  Sample Character
  Shabbatai
  “Your lament and sorrow must be changed into joy, and 
  your fasting into merriment; for ye shall weep no more. Rejoice 
  with song and melody, and change the day formerly spent in 
  sadness and sorrow into a day of jubilee, because the Awakened 
  Kingdom is coming.”
  Background: Mordecai Halberstam was born into one 
  of Brooklyn, New York's most prominent Hasidic Jewish 
  families. From an early age, he showed himself to be an 
  apt pupil of the Talmud and was groomed by his family 
  and his community for rabbinical studies almost from the 
  time he could read. God, or Fate, or some other higher 
  power (depending on whom you ask) intervened in his 
  sixteenth year, though, and while praying at Temple, 
  Mordecai experienced a vision. He saw the holy archan-
  gels Metatron and Raziel, standing before the gates of a 
  great golden tower, wherein surely must have dwelt the 
  Throne of God. The angels vexed him with temptations 
  and scriptural riddles, but Mordecai answered all of their 
  questions and defeated their seals, and was allowed to enter 
  the golden tower, into whose walls he signed his name in 
  Hebrew letters wrought with mystical significance.
  When he returned to awareness of this world, Mordecai 
  began to tell others in his community that he, like Elijah, 
  had been called up to Heaven to witness the Throne of 
  God, and that he had brought back with him secrets and 
  wisdom to share with the Jewish people. Word eventually 
  made it back to the Guardians of the Veil, who recognized 
  the signs of Awakening in the young man's tales and 
  quickly sent agents to quiet him. Once Mordecai had 
  been inducted into Awakened society and told its myths, 
  he recognized the truths in them — certainly, Atlantis was 
  merely a metaphor for Eden, and the Supernal World a 
  goyim's imperfect understanding of the Tree of Life, but 
  the truth of an ancient, Awakened paradise lost by man's 
  hubris resonated with his soul. In that resonance, Mor-
  decai felt that he had found God's plan for him — that 
  he was allowed to enter the highest of the Watchtowers, 
  that he was escorted by the archangels themselves, surely 
  this meant that he was to lead the Awakened nation back 
  to its paradise, its Promised Land. If God demanded 
  that he be a Messiah, even to a community with so many 
  idolatrous and blasphemous members, then that was the 
  duty he would perform. He took the name Shabbatai, after 
  the 17th century Jew who claimed to be the Annointed 
  One, to remind himself to be humble in his task. He has 
  a long road ahead of him, but already the young mage's 
  fiery intensity and raw charisma have gathered a number 
  of followers to his banner.
  Description: Shabbatai is a young Jewish man of just 
  under eighteen years of age. His features are of strongly 
  Eastern European character, and his dark eyes smolder 
  with the intensity of his cause. His hair is worn in the 
  traditional Hasidic fashion, and he is slowly but surely 
  developing the full beard characteristic of his sect of Juda-
  ism. Likewise, he dresses in the conservative, somewhat 
  archaic suit and hat favored by the Hasidim, albeit subtly 
  augmented by Atlantean runes woven into the lining to 
  aid in the casting of protective spells.
  Shabbatai's nimbus is that of the Kingdom of Heaven 
  — he seems to be backed by an invisible but clearly-felt 
  host of holy angels, not the New Age harps-and-chubby-
  babies variety but the mighty and terrible messengers of 
  God that leveled cities in the Old Testament. During 
  especially potent castings, his very surroundings seem to 
  transfigure into a shining city of gold, while the voices of 
  the Seraphim unceasingly chant the Trisagion.
  Storytelling Hints: Shabbatai is either a deluded 
  zealot or the greatest hope the Awakened have for re-
  
  47
  CHAPTER TWO: 
  ,, TRADITIONAL
  ,, TRADITIONS
  gaining the glory of Atlantis. If he is wrong about his 
  destiny, no force in the Fallen World will convince him 
  of it, and in time he may well be led to acts of increasing 
  desperation to fulfill it. If he is right, that same dogged 
  tenacity will allow nothing short of death to stop him 
  — and maybe not even that. Shabbatai speaks softly, 
  for he does not need to shout: the power of his belief 
  is sufficient to sway others to his cause. Regardless 
  of that cause's rightness, though, Shabbatai is bound 
  to make waves in any Consilium he happens to visit, 
  waves that could lead to no shortage of enemies among 
  the Awakened.
  Dedicated Magical Tool: Copy of the Torah
  Real Name: Mordecai Halberstam
  Path: Obrimos
  Order: Silver Ladder
  Legacy: None
  Mental Attributes: Intelligence 4, Wits 2, Resolve 5
  Physical Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 2, 
  Stamina 2
  Social Attributes: Presence 4, Manipulation 1, 
  Composure 3
  Mental Skills: Academics (Judaism) 4, Investigation 4, 
  Occult (Kabbalah) 3, Politics 1, Science 1
  Physical Skills: Athletics 2, Drive 1, Firearms 1
  Social Skills: Empathy 3, Expression (Oratory) 4, 
  Persuasion 3, Socialize 1
  Merits: Allies (Messianic Awakened) 3, Contacts 
  (Hasidic Communities), Destiny 4, Eidetic Memory, 
  High Speech, Language (Hebrew, Aramaic), Magical 
  Tradition (Kabbalah), Order Status 2
  Willpower: 8
  Wisdom: 7
  Virtue: Faith
  Vice: Pride
  Initiative: 5
  Defense: 2
  Speed: 9
  Health: 7
  Gnosis: 4
  Arcana: Fate 1, Forces 3, Mind 2, Prime 4, Time 1
  Rotes: Forces — Influence Light (•), Control Sound (••), 
  Unseen Shield (••), Call Lightning (•••); Mind 
  — Aura Perception (•), Emotional Urging (••); 
  Prime — Discern Phantasm (•), Dispel Magic (•), 
  Supernal Vision (•), Counterspell (••), Primal 
  Flow (••), Celestial Fire (•••), Phantasm (•••), 
  Awaken Hallow (••••)
  Mana/per turn: 13/4
  Armor: 3 (“Unseen Shield,” Forces ••)
  TAOIST SORCERY
  The utmost man is daemonic. When the wide woodlands blaze, they cannot sear him. 
  When the Yellow River and the Han freeze, they cannot chill him. When swift thunderbolts 
  smash the mountains and whirlwinds shake the seas, they cannot startle him. A man like 
  that yokes the clouds to his chariot, rides the sun and moon and roams beyond the four 
  seas. Death and life alter nothing in himself.
  — Chuang-Tzu
  In the Cultural Revolution, the Chinese Communist 
  Party tried to suppress the ancient, mystical tradition 
  of Taoism, along with every other doctrine that might 
  compete with its own. It failed. Taoism remains deeply 
  woven into Chinese culture. Its influence reaches from 
  medicine to organized crime.
  Until recently, other people knew little about Taoism. 
  Western scholars had read a few cryptic, mystical-philo-
  sophical treatises. They knew about community religious 
  festivals, popular fortune-telling methods, miscellaneous 
  folk charms and wonder-tales. It was like trying to under-
  stand Christianity based on one gospel, a community 
  Easter parade and a group of Holy Rollers. In recent 
  decades, however, scholars have finally studied ancient, 
  little-circulated scriptures and persuaded actual Taoist mas-
  ters to reveal mysteries and practices long kept secret.
  Taoism remains difficult to define, though. Perhaps 
  that is appropriate. Its foundation scripture, the Tao Te 
  Ching of the legendary sage Lao-Tzu, warns, “The Tao 
  that can be named is not the true Tao.” A Taoist does not 
  believe in a tidy, well-defined set of dogmas labeled “Tao-
  ism”; he seeks experiences beyond description. Supernal 
  experiences, you might say. Taoism isn’t something you 
  believe; it’s something you do. Any brief discussion can 
  
  48
  only touch upon a few core concepts and try to suggest 
  the goals and methods of Taoism’s practitioners.
  The Taoist Cosmology
  As Lao-Tzu said, the concept at the core of Taoism 
  is fundamentally indefinable. “Tao” means “the way.” 
  The Tao is the Way of the Universe: the natural order of 
  things and the totality of existence, beyond time, space 
  and division into separate entities.
  The Tao Te Ching describes the genesis of the Universe 
  in this way: “The Tao gave birth to the One; the One 
  gave birth to the Two; the Two gave birth to the Three; 
  the Three gave birth to the Ten Thousand Things.” 
  However, this is not a historical progression analogous 
  to the Judeo-Christian seven days of Creation. Instead, 
  Lao-Tzu describes the progressive development of con-
  cepts, from the indescribable Tao to the real, concrete 
  objects of everyday experience.
  The One
  Because the Tao is totally beyond all description or 
  division, one cannot even say that it exists: That would 
  ascribe a definite quality to the Tao and a division between 
  existence and nonexistence.
  All of reality — the manifest Tao — is the One. The 
  manifest Tao is called T’ai Chi, “the Great Principle,” or 
  Hun Tun, “Primordial Chaos.” Reality is not yet divided 
  into entities, qualities or levels of being such as matter or 
  spirit. At this level of comprehension, everything consists 
  of one essence: Ch’i or Qi, “Breath,” a force both natural 
  and supernatural. Like the Western scientific concept 
  of energy, qi appears in many forms, from literal breath 
  to the power of souls. Solid matter is just a particularly 
  dense configuration of qi. Taoist religion represents 
  this ultimate force as the god Yüan-shih T’ien-tsun, or 
  “Primordial Heavenly Worthy.”
  The Two
  The quality of existence necessarily implies the quality 
  of non-existence. Unity begets duality. The primordial qi 
  operates in two fundamental modes: Yang, the principle 
  of active force, expansion, light, motion, life and Heaven; 
  and Yin, the principle of passive receptivity, restriction, 
  darkness, stillness, death and Earth. Just about everyone 
  has seen the monad symbol of the circle divided by a 
  recurving line into two comma-shapes, black and white, 
  that represents the division between yin and yang.
  As the monad symbol suggest, yin and yang are not 
  static qualities locked in eternal opposition and negation. 
  Their interplay is dynamic: Something can be yin in one 
  context, yang in another. Each half of the monad also 
  contains a spot of the opposite hue. Taoist philosophy 
  says that nothing is pure. Everything contains a bit of 
  its opposite. Indeed, any extreme tends to give rise to its 
  own opposite. For instance, long periods of peace and 
  social stability generate the seeds of revolt; periods of 
  social chaos lay the groundwork for a new order. One 
  Taoist initiatory rite increases a student’s mystical force 
  by poisoning him and leaving him in a lightless cave 
  for a week. The concentrated force of yin must attract a 
  complementary upsurge of yang, increasing the student’s 
  spiritual force overall.
  Taoist religion represents this conceptual stage of duality 
  as the god Ling-pao T’ien-tsun, the “Spirit Jewel Heavenly 
  Worthy,” emblematic of the connection between matter 
  and spirit, Heaven and Earth.
  The Three
  Some Taoists interpret “the Two” as Yang and “the 
  Three” as Yin, but other interpretations are possible. 
  The I Ching, an ancient fortune-telling guide, ascribes 
  special importance to eight “trigrams” that represent the 
  permutations of yin and yang in groups of three. Each 
  trigram consists of three line segments, whole for yang 
  and broken for yin. They range from three yang lines 
  to three yin lines. The eight trigrams are often drawn 
  around the yin-yang monad; this octagonal arrangement 
  also provides a map of space for Taoist rituals.
  “The Three” can also refer to a third Taoist deity, Tao-
  te T’ien-tzun, the Heavenly Worthy of the Tao. Taoists 
  regard this deity as the divine archetype of the sage Lao-
  Tzu and a symbol of qi as life force.
  Taoism also places great emphasis on the triad of 
  Heaven, Earth and Man. These three realms of being 
  reflect each other. Entities in one realm correlate to 
  entities in the others. For instance, the Purple Court is 
  simultaneously the highest palace in Heaven, a palace on 
  the mythical mountain K’un-lun, and part of the human 
  brain. A Taoist draws power from these affinities.
  The Ten Thousand Things
  The interplay of qi creates an infinitude of different 
  entities. Some are material; some are spiritual. As the 
  appearance of the three Heavenly Worthies suggests, 
  Taoism combines an abstract, philosophical conception 
  of qi with belief in gods and spirits. The Heavenly Wor-
  thies exist in Prior Heaven, the realm of transcendent 
  archetypes. Most gods, however, exist in Posterior Heaven, 
  which is merely a place in the sky for spirits. Taoists often 
  personify the forces and concepts of their creed as gods 
  whom they can call upon for power.
  
  49
  CHAPTER TWO: 
  ,, TRADITIONAL
  ,, TRADITIONS
  The Five Elements
  Yin and yang operate at a high level of abstraction. Tao-
  ism also postulates five forces, qualities or agencies with 
  more immediate relevance to the continual changes that 
  take place throughout the Universe: the elements of Fire, 
  Water, Wood, Earth and Metal. They are not so much 
  substances as modes of existence. In particular, they change 
  into each other and affect each other through cycles of 
  generation and restriction. Wood generates Fire, which 
  gives rise to Earth, which forms Metal, which creates Water, 
  which nurtures Wood again. But Wood controls Earth, 
  which obstructs Water, which quenches Fire, which burns 
  Metal, which cuts Wood. Everything in reality can be tied 
  to these five elements, and their interplay described and 
  controlled through the cycles of creation and destruction. 
  They play an important role in Taoist magic.
  Return to the Tao
  In the world of the Ten Thousand Things, the Tao is 
  hard to perceive. A Taoist tries to comprehend the Tao 
  through meditation, mystic rituals and a variety of other 
  ascetic and occult practices. He gains more than a mysti-
  cal experience of being “one with the Universe.” Along 
  the way, a Taoist gains power. As he reaches beyond the 
  fragmented, everyday reality of the Ten Thousand Things, 
  he touches the fundamental currents of qi that drive the 
  Universe, and takes them into himself. His initiations 
  give him the right and the power to command the spirits. 
  Ultimately, his communion with the Tao makes him a 
  living nexus between the levels of reality. He is at once 
  mortal and divine, in the world and beyond it. Through 
  his rituals and meditations, the Taoist brings the realms 
  into harmony and reinforces the cosmic order. As such, 
  the Taoist master does not merely perform feats of magic. 
  He helps to sustain the world itself.
  History
  The origins of Taoism fade into legend. No Taoist claims 
  to invent anything; they merely explicate or develop the 
  doctrine of previous masters. Indeed, the scriptures of 
  Taoism are said to exist as part of the Tao itself, eternal 
  and transcendent, until gods reveal them or mortal sages 
  perceive them and write them down.
  In mythology, the first Taoists were the legendary Three 
  Sovereigns and Five Emperors. These primal culture heroes 
  revealed the Tao to humanity along with writing, agriculture, 
  government and other civilized arts. The most important 
  of these mythical sage-kings, Yü the Great, saved the world 
  from flooding after an evil power broke the foundations 
  of reality. Mages might find some familiarity in sage-kings 
  of the ancient past, flooding and a broken world.
  The First Philosophers
  Taoism took a step into history with the sage dubbed 
  Lao-Tzu, the “Old Master,” who flourished in the 6th 
  century BCE — early in a remarkable 700-year period of 
  religious ferment that saw the birth of Temple Judaism, 
  Buddhism, Confucianism and, finally, Christianity, as 
  well as Greek philosophy. Tradition says that Lao-Tzu 
  was the archivist for the royal court of Chou. After his 
  retirement, he wrote the Tao Te Ching, traveled west out 
  of China, and disappeared. Lao-Tzu’s dense, aphoristic 
  little treatise lends itself to diverse interpretations rang-
  ing from mystical cosmology to political theory. The Tao 
  Te Ching, however, is the first book to enunciate the 
  concept of the Tao.
  Taoism’s next scripture, the Chuang-Tzu, takes its 
  name from its alleged author, a figure even more shadowy 
  than Lao-Tzu. The Chuang-Tzu stands out for its utter 
  skepticism about all dogma and belief, even belief about 
  one’s own identity. In the book’s most famous passage, 
  the author recounts how he dreamed he was a butterfly, 
  and in that dream, he fell asleep and dreamed that he was 
  Chuang-Tzu. Which person is real, the butterfly or the 
  sage? Again, mages might find the notion of the world 
  as a dream somewhat familiar.
  Sages, Sects and Schools
  The Tao Te Ching and Chuang-Tzu inspired philo-
  sophical speculations. It also seems so have influenced 
  notions of magic, for magicians — called fang shih — also 
  began to be called Tao shih. Taoism did not emerge as 
  a religion, however, until the 2nd century CE, during 
  the Han Dynasty. According to legend, the gods gave the 
  prophet Yü Chi the T’ai-ping Ch’ing-ling Shu, or Great 
  Peace Book of Pure Commands. This scripture laid out 
  the doctrines of yin and yang, the cycles of the five ele-
  ments and methods to obtain blessings and disease cures 
  from spirits. Yü Chi’s book also claimed that improper 
  balances between yin and yang caused all troubles, both 
  natural and social. The Han emperors and ministers of 
  state no longer ruled according to the Tao. By flouting 
  the ways of nature and neglecting the balance of yin and 
  yang, they were in danger of losing their right to rule.
  Yü Chi greatly influenced the Taoism master Chang 
  Dao-Ling. He established the Heavenly Master sect in 
  western China, which ruled a province as a virtually au-
  tonomous state for centuries. Chang Dao-Ling divided 
  his theocratic state into 24 districts, each overseen by a 
  grand libationer to whom was assigned a register of servant 
  spirits. Under the rule of Master Chang and his descen-
  dants, this Taoist state repaired roads, drained marshes, 
  and set aside grain collected as taxes for feeding travelers 
  
  50
  and the poor. Convicted criminals had to confess their 
  sins in public and do road repair as penance.
  Legend ascribes many miracles to Master Chang, in-
  cluding trapping demons in pottery jars, raising himself 
  from the dead and ascending to Heaven. His strangest 
  feat, however, was perhaps lengthening his arms to pull 
  a disciple up a cliff. Chang Dao-Ling’s talismans to 
  bring good fortune remain popular throughout China, 
  particularly a talisman that shows the legendary sage 
  riding through the sky on a tiger.
  Other sages revealed more scriptures and founded 
  more sects in the next two centuries. The 
  Shang-ch’ing or “Highest Pure” school, based 
  on the sacred mountain of Mao Shan, became 
  particularly influential. Its founder, Lady Wei 
  Hua-ts’un, wrote (or revealed) the Huang-tin 
  Ching, or Scripture of the Yellow Court, which 
  describes the connections between the five 
  elements, the human body and Heaven. 
  Its meditative regimen shaped much of 
  subsequent Taoist practice. Chinese 
  folklore ascribes many wondrous pow-
  ers to Mao Shan adepts The tradition 
  continues in Chinese fantasy-action 
  movies, in which Taoist adepts can 
  perform feats ranging from leaping 
  great distances to making vampires 
  explode.
  Other schools include Ling-pao 
  (“Spiritual Jewel”) and the P'ei-chi 
  ("Pole Star") sect that became fa-
  mous for its exorcistic prowess. 
  Along with spirit-summon-
  ing and talismans, the 
  scriptures from this 
  period describe 
  ascetic regimens 
  and meditations 
  to increase one’s 
  mystical power, 
  prolong life, 
  e n g a g e  
  i n 
  visionary jour-
  neys to distant 
  realms, com-
  mune with the 
  Tao and ulti-
  mately ascend to 
  Heaven as a divine 
  immortal.
  The Yellow Turbans
  One 2nd century Taoist sect met a violent end. Another 
  Taoist inspired by Yü Chi, named Chang Chiao (no 
  relation to Chang Dao-Ling), founded the Great Peace 
  sect in an eastern province. Like the Heavenly Master 
  sect, the Great Peace school tried to build a new society 
  amid the decay of the late Han Dynasty. Chang Chiao 
  claimed the “blue heaven” of the Han dynasty was end-
  ing and the “yellow heaven” of his new order was about 
  to spread across China. As token of this, his followers 
  wore a yellow headband and so the sect was called the 
  Yellow Turbans.
  Unlike the Heavenly Masters, the Yellow Turbans at-
  tracted the ire of Han government. The Han military 
  crushed the fledgling Taoist state. Somewhat later, the 
  Heavenly Master theocracy accepted imperial vassalage in 
  return for a free hand running local affairs. That would 
  seem to be the end of Taoism as a political force.
  Except it wasn’t. Time and again in Chinese history, 
  mystical movements turn into rebel movements, 
  or rebel movements adopt mystical trappings. 
  Typical ingredients include diet restrictions and 
  avoidance of intoxicants (part of the Taoist 
  regimen to keep the body pure), talismans, 
  peachwood swords, symbolism based on 
  the five elements and their associated di-
  rections and colors, and leaders who claim 
  supernatural inspiration. (Admittedly, 
  their supernatural guidance more often 
  comes from trance mediums than Tao-
  ist masters.) Such rebellious cults and 
  mystical rebels also frequently taught 
  mystical exercises and martial arts 
  drawn straight from Taoism. Some 
  of the more influential secret so-
  cieties include the White Lotus 
  Society (which lasted from the 12th 
  to the 19th centuries), the Eight 
  Diagrams, the Golden Elixir Society 
  and — most of all — the Righteous 
  Harmony Fists, or Boxers. These 
  mystical martial artists’ rebellion shook 
  China from 1897 to 1900.
  These secret societies and rebel 
  movements, in turn, helped create 
  the Triads. These criminal gangs 
  played an important role in the 
  revolution that ended the Manchu 
  dynasty and led to the Chinese 
  Republic. Nowadays, they control 
  much of the heroin trade.
  
  51
  CHAPTER TWO: 
  ,, TRADITIONAL
  ,, TRADITIONS
  So maybe it’s no surprise that the China’s Communist 
  government harasses the Taoist-inspired Falun Gong 
  movement. Its practitioners claim that Falun Gong is 
  nothing more than a system of meditation and light ex-
  ercises for physical and spiritual health, with no political 
  aspect whatsoever. And so it is… for now. But other rebel 
  movements and secret societies started the same way.
  Success and Schism
  During the 5th and 6th centuries, religious Taoism 
  spread throughout China with the help of patron emper-
  ors, and its rites became highly popular with common 
  folk. In this period, scholars also began compiling the 
  proliferating scriptures into a Taoist Canon. The various 
  schools assumed a distinct hierarchy of mystical power, 
  enlightenment and respectability, with some schools 
  considered more orthodox than others. Tales of Taoist 
  masters from this period often feature miraculous jour-
  neys between sacred mountains, to distant regions of the 
  earth, and to the stars and realms of the gods.
  The Sung and Yüan dynasties (10th to 14th centuries) 
  saw a great multiplication of popular Taoist sects and 
  cults. These groups offered magic rather than philosophy 
  or mystic enlightenment, much to the disgust of the 
  leaders of older, orthodox schools. The heterodox cults 
  even perverted Taoist ritual to black magic. The new sects 
  did not actually disagree with the doctrines of the older 
  schools; they differed only in their applications, or in 
  details such as what color an adept visualized when he 
  meditated upon a particular element. Heterodox Taoists 
  did not scruple to use the names of prestigious schools, 
  however, so Taoism still has a large body of “Mao Shan” 
  black magic that has little or nothing to do with the ac-
  tual meditative Taoism of the famous monastery. A new 
  practice called “Thunder Magic” appeared and quickly 
  spread through all the schools and sects, since it provided 
  the best (or only) defense against black magic.
  In time, some measure of order was restored by a part-
  nership of Taoist sages and the imperial government. The 
  imperial government recognized the Heavenly Master 
  sect as supreme arbiter of Taoist orthodoxy and gave it 
  the authority to ordain and rank Taoist adepts. Sects 
  were graded into degrees of initiation and prestige, from 
  popular cults up to the Heavenly Masters themselves and 
  the elite adepts of inner alchemy.
  Modern Taoism
  When the Communists took over China, they tried to 
  suppress Taoism. Many Taoists fled China for Taiwan, 
  Hong Kong and the wider Chinese diaspora. The Heav-
  enly Master sect, still led by the descendents of Chang 
  Dao-Ling, moved to Taiwan along with Master Chang’s 
  Becoming a Taoist
  This broad and diverse tradition de-
  mands an extraordinary range of Skills 
  from practitioners: Academics to interpret 
  ancient scriptures, Crafts (Calligraphy) to 
  compose talismans, Medicine to perform 
  acupuncture and other healing arts, Occult 
  to know the tradition’s vast body of esoter-
  ic lore, Survival to tramp through the wil-
  derness from temple to temple, and even 
  Weaponry to duel with spirits — among 
  other possible Skills.
  As a necessary minimum, however, any 
  character who wants to become an actual 
  Taoist (and not just a person who studies 
  Taoism) requires at least Academics 2 (with 
  a Skill Specialty in Taoism), Crafts 1 (for cal-
  ligraphy) and Occult 2. This is an exceed-
  ingly literate tradition.
  Taoists are religious figures in their com-
  munity. As such, they may have Status. 
  They also have their own hierarchy of rec-
  ognized masters, monasteries and grades 
  of initiation. Taoist Status does not extend 
  past four dots, for figures such as Chang 
  Dao-Ling’s heir or the abbot of a Mao Shan 
  monastery. This hierarchy can also justify 
  Allies, Contacts or a Mentor — indeed, a 
  Taoist must learn from a Mentor, whether a 
  personal tutor or a monastery.
  demon-quelling sword and hundreds of pottery jars con-
  taining trapped demons. Since many Taoists operated 
  without allegiance to any temple or monastery, however, 
  masters continued to teach students right under the noses 
  of the Communist authorities. As the Communist Party 
  relaxed its grip, Taoist temples, priests and monasteries 
  returned to public view. The great monasteries on Mao 
  Shan and other sacred mountains now train as many 
  initiates as ever, and receive a measure of state support 
  as part of China’s cultural heritage.
  Taoism also receives interest from foreign scholars 
  who, at last, are neither colonialists nor Christian mis-
  sionaries — not the most sympathetic of investigators. A 
  foreigner who wants to learn about Taoism — such as a 
  curious mage — actually has a decent chance of learning 
  from an authentic Taoist master.
  
  52
  Magic and Mysticism
  Taoism includes a prodigious range of magical prac-
  tices and mystical devotions. Some of them might carry 
  genuine magical power, or hint at new techniques for 
  the Awakened.
  Talismans
  Chinese tradition describes several ways of working 
  magic, but Taoism emphasizes talismans drawn on 
  colored paper or, less often, wooden plaques. These 
  are called fu, from the old Chinese word for a contract. 
  A proper talisman should be hand-drawn by a Taoist 
  or some other mystical initiate (Chinese Buddhist tra-
  dition now incorporates fu as well), but the Chinese 
  people buy enormous quantities of cheaply printed 
  talismans. Such mass-produced talismans of course 
  have no power whatsoever.
  A basic Taoist talisman consist of a prayer, command 
  or other statement addressed to a suitable god or spirit 
  — most probably a god in the Taoist’s lu, or register of 
  spirit servitors granted by his initiation into the mysteries 
  of a Taoist sect or school. Talismans often include phrases 
  such as, “By imperial order,” or “In accordance with the 
  protocols,” to remind the spirits of their duty to obey.
  Many talismans are written in ordinary Chinese char-
  acters. Some fu, however, use special scripts. The Taoist 
  Canon provides a yang-aspected script whose characters are 
  even more square and angular than regular Chinese script, 
  and a yin-aspected “cloud script” of flowing or wriggling 
  lines. Other talismans carry irregular blobs that bear no 
  apparent relation to writing. These talismans take their 
  inspiration from ancient Chinese shamans and mediums 
  who swiped their bleeding tongues across paper to tran-
  scribe “messages” from the spirits that possessed them. Fu 
  may also include portraits of gods or animals, diagrams 
  that represent constellations, and other figures. A talis-
  man might combine these methods so, for instance, the 
  characters representing the name of a god might be drawn 
  and arranged in such a way as to make a picture of that 
  god (with a few additional brush-strokes if necessary).
  Most talismans are written on bright yellow paper 
  — the imperial color, as if it were an official edict. Bright 
  red is also popular. Some fu, however, use blue, green 
  or other colors of paper, chosen for their association 
  with particular elements and directions. For instance, 
  one set of talismans consists of five slips of paper, one 
  for each of the cardinal directions, colored violet for 
  the East, red to the South, green for the West, blue to 
  the North, and yellow at the Center. (These colors are 
  not consistently applied, though.) Such a set of charms 
  protects a person from every direction and invokes the 
  power of all five elements.
  A true talisman consists of more than ink and paper, 
  though. The Taoist must also infuse it with qi. The Taoist 
  might visualize the god to whom he addresses the talis-
  man. He may also visualize the sun and moon hovering 
  in front of his left eye, or similar invocations of cosmic 
  power. Most importantly, though, he imagines elemental 
  qi flowing from an appropriate internal organ, through 
  his mouth, to the brush and paper to imbue the talis-
  man with magic.
  Once a Taoist finishes scribing a talisman, he stamps it with 
  a cubical stamp whose symbols certify his authority over the 
  spirit world. Wax seals may further embellish the talisman 
  and increase its resemblance of an imperial directive.
  A completed fu may be used in various ways. The Tao-
  ist (or his client) may burn the talisman as a way to send 
  its message into the spirit world. An offering of incense 
  and gold-paper may serve as a bribe to the spirits, in case 
  quasi-imperial and mystical authority fails to provide suf-
  ficient motivation. The talisman’s recipient can paste or 
  nail the fu to a wall, door or post, to deliver an enduring 
  blessing to the house and all who dwell therein. Some fu 
  Timing
  Taoist tradition says that some times are 
  more auspicious than others for particular 
  magical operations (a notion also found in 
  Western ceremonial magic). To see whether 
  a time is auspicious or unlucky, a Taoist 
  examines the eight characters that describe 
  it — four pairs that represent its hour, day, 
  month and year in a 60-year cycle. Any 
  appearances of 4 or 8 tend to be lucky, but 
  the numbers also correlate with the five ele-
  ments. An hour whose numbers conflicted 
  with the elemental character of a working 
  would not be lucky. Some talismans should 
  only be written at particular hours of the day.
  The angle of the Big Dipper also matters in 
  Taoist magic. In some magical operations, 
  the sacred space must be aligned to the 
  direction that the Big Dipper’s handle points. 
  Any serious Taoist magician — Awakened or 
  Sleeper — keeps an ephemeris showing the 
  direction of the Big Dipper’s handle for every 
  hour of the year, or the Taoist works it out 
  from memory.
  
  53
  CHAPTER TWO: 
  ,, TRADITIONAL
  ,, TRADITIONS
  are buried, perhaps to invoke chthonic spirits instead of 
  celestial gods. In some cases, the Taoist tears the finished 
  talisman in half, burns one part and buries the other, 
  forging a connection between Heaven and Earth. This 
  imitates an ancient Chinese form of contract that was 
  torn and one half given to each party. The two halves 
  could be put together again, showing the match between 
  them, as a way to verify the contract.
  Awakened Use of Fu
  Writing a talisman takes time — enough time that it 
  might make an excellent method for extended spellcasting. 
  As a Taoist mage draws the words, special characters and 
  pictures of the talisman, she builds the Imago of the spell 
  and slowly charges it with Mana. The visible, tangible fu 
  provides an aid to concentration and memory. At the 
  end, the mage burns the talisman to release the completed 
  spell, or gives the fu to the spell’s target.
  Fu are especially appropriate for casting rotes. These 
  standardized spells echo the standardized nature of talis-
  mans from the Taoist Canon. A Taoist seldom invents new 
  talismans: He copies the fu found in scriptures written 
  by Taoist masters of long ago. These could, indeed, be 
  grimoires of Taoist rotes: A true master uses handwritten 
  copies handed down from initiate to initiate, sometimes 
  for hundreds of years. Any copy, however, might assist a 
  Taoist mage in reconstructing a rote for his own use.
  Rotes involving fu often use Academics as the Skill 
  component of the dice pool, rather than Craft or Oc-
  cult. Technical skill at calligraphy matters, and so does 
  esoteric knowledge of the spirits and Taoist occult theory. 
  More than those, however, a fu is an official document 
  submitted to the Celestial Bureaucracy. The Taoist must 
  know the proper rules and formulae; and to understand 
  them, he must master a millenium’s worth of scriptures, 
  from the Tao Te Ching onward. He must also understand 
  how the obscure symbols of the fu derive from Chinese 
  characters and star maps.
  Sleeper scholars, however, must take it on faith that 
  cloud script and other symbols are altered versions of 
  ordinary Chinese characters. There’s no working back-
  ward from a talisman that looks like a random scribble to 
  the original characters. These scripts could just as easily 
  be altered versions of glyphs assembled from Atlantean 
  runes. A mage might use fu written in these scripts to 
  extend a spell’s duration, just as with standard Atlantean 
  runes (see Mage: The Awakening, p. 119).
  Talismanic scripts have some advantages compared to 
  Atlantean runes. In Chinese communities, at least, fu do 
  not stand out. Talismans tacked to the doorpost of a build-
  ing or hung on a room’s wall do not attract much notice. 
  (Of course, people may notice if someone affixes fu to a 
  building that belongs to someone else.) Western mages also 
  are not likely to recognize cloud script or blob-symbols as 
  runes. This can be useful if a Taoist wants to plant Atlantean 
  runes on a mage he intends to attack, or annoying if the 
  foreigner and the Taoist want to work together.
  Typical Talismans
  The Chinese people want pretty much the same things 
  from their charms and talismans as anyone else in the 
  world. Charm-sellers offer fu to avert bad luck and attract 
  good luck. Talismans can speed recovery from disease or 
  prevent sickness in the first place. Some fu banish hostile 
  spirits; others rescue ancestral ghosts from torment (the 
  Chinese have a lot of hells) and deliver them to Heaven 
  or reincarnation. Some talismans are very specific: One 
  set of talismans must be placed around a house that has 
  burned, to purge it of bad luck before anyone rebuilds.
  Taoist Rote: Summoning Talisman (Spirit •••)
  Spell: “Greater Spirit Summons” (see Mage: The 
  Awakening, p. 249)
  Dice Pool: Dexterity + Academics + Spirit vs. Resistance
  Unlike the Silver Ladder’s rote, the Summoning Talis-
  man does not depend on sheer force of personality or 
  persuasion; the rote depends on the Taoist’s knowledge 
  of talismans and ability to draw them correctly, freehand. 
  However, the rote only summons spirits who already 
  have personal sigils, and respond to the proper form of 
  the appeal rather than the magician’s personal charisma. 
  Without knowledge of a particular spirit’s talisman, the 
  rote is useless. Of course, a Taoist mage could summon 
  spirits in other ways and strike a pact or compel the spirits 
  to accept their own sigils.
  Taoist Rote: Luck Blessing (Fate •)
  Spell: “Reading the Outmost Eddies” (see Mage: The 
  Awakening, p. 149)
  Dice Pool: Presence + Occult + Fate
  The mage scribes a talisman that includes the name 
  of the person she intends to bless, stamps it, seals it and 
  burns it. Count the number of successes rolled; that de-
  termines the duration factors of the blessing. Whenever 
  the recipient is in a challenging situation (one that calls 
  for a dice roll), the character receives one free success. 
  This happens as many times as the successes rolled, or 
  the duration expires, whichever comes first.
  Lu
  A lu, or “register,” is a roster of spirits assigned to serve 
  a Taoist initiate. Each Taoist school offers different lists 
  
  54
  of spirits; Taoists 
  who attain higher grades of 
  mastery receive a greater selection of spirit 
  minions. Orthodox Taoists generally rely on the spirits 
  of their lu rather than seeking to forge new spirit pacts 
  of their own — and indeed, an un-Awakened Taoist has 
  no choice. Even an Awakened Taoist might prefer to 
  work through a lu for the sake of reliable results. Each 
  spirit in a lu is bound to perform one specific feat when 
  invoked through the proper talisman. As such, a mage 
  with a lu has a source of power that may extend beyond 
  his own Arcana.
  The great Chang Dao-Ling drew up the first lu. Other 
  Taoist masters issued their own lu. A mage could institute 
  his own lu and place it at the disposal of disciples: This 
  would involve forming his own spirit court and possibly 
  creating or reshaping spirits to order (all of which a master 
  of the Spirit Arcanum can do; see Mage: The Awakening, 
  p. 255). Such a program necessarily involves a mage in the 
  politics of the Asian spirit courts that form the Celestial 
  Bureaucracy. The complex etiquette and intrigue of this 
  great court of courts surpasses anything ever found in 
  the mortal imperial court of China. Fortunately, Taoist 
  masters have a reputation for inappropriate behavior 
  that might lead celestial functionaries to overlook minor 
  breaches of decorum… but a prudent mage doesn’t press 
  his luck. The Eight Immortals might get away with giving 
  the Celestial Emperor a bedpan as a birthday present, 
  but anyone less powerful than these mythic arch-masters 
  should show more discretion.
  Merit: Lu (• to •••••)
  Prerequisites: Taoist Skill package (see “Be-
  coming a Taoist,” p. 51), Taoist Status •, 
  Mentor •••
  Effects: A character with this Merit can call 
  upon a roster of minor spirits. Unlike Famil-
  iars, each spirit in a lu performs only one feat, 
  and only when specifically invoked through the 
  proper ritual. A lu might be seen as a sort of 
  collective Familiar — both in the sense of powers 
  spread among a collection of spirits, and in the 
  sense that all the Taoists of a particular school might 
  call upon the same lu. The size of a school’s register 
  of spirits may vary. A very large lu, however, is a sign 
  that a school lost Awakened leadership long ago, 
  never had it in the first place, or just pads out the 
  register with multiple names for the same spirits to 
  sound more impressive. The number of spirits in 
  a lu (or the number of applications, if one spirit 
  can be invoked for multiple functions) is actually 
  quite modest — no lu exceeds the 24 magical feats 
  offered by the register of Chang Dao-Ling.
  • 
  One spirit, for one magical service
  •• 
  Three services
  ••• 
  Six services
  •••• 
  Twelve services
  ••••• 
  Twenty-four services
  The Storyteller decides what services a Taoist can obtain 
  from a lu. At one or two dots of lu, a Taoist can obtain only 
  minor services, from spirits of rank 1. For three to four 
  dots of lu, a Taoist can invoke spirits of rank 2 and obtain 
  somewhat greater services. Only at five dots of lu can a 
  Taoist direct rank 3 spirits to perform feats of considerable 
  power. Typical feats for the spirits of a lu include luck, 
  protection from various hazards or curing disease.
  To invoke the spirits in a lu, a Taoist writes the proper talis-
  man for that spirit at an hour whose eight defining numbers 
  (a pair for the hour, day, month and year) harmonize with 
  the spirit’s nature and function. The Taoist also burns an 
  offering of incense and makes particular mudras while he 
  imagines elementally-charged qi flowing from the proper part 
  of his body into the talisman. The whole process takes an 
  hour. Once he completes the talisman, the Taoist may burn 
  it, bury it or otherwise treat it like any other talisman.
  
  55
  CHAPTER TWO: 
  ,, TRADITIONAL
  ,, TRADITIONS
  The Body Cosmic Table
  Organ 
  Element 
  Direction 
  Season 
  Planet 
  Color 
  Flavor
  Liver 
  Wood 
  East 
  Spring 
  Jupiter 
  Blue, Green 
  Sour
  Heart 
  Fire 
  South 
  Summer 
  Mars 
  Red 
  Bitter
  Spleen 
  Earth 
  Center 
  Late Summer 
  Saturn 
  Yellow 
  Sweet
  Lungs 
  Metal 
  West 
  Autumn 
  Venus 
  White 
  Sharp
  Kidneys 
  Water 
  North 
  Winter 
  Mercury 
  Black, Violet 
  Salty
  When a character invokes his register of spirits, his 
  player rolls Dexterity + Academics + Spirit – the target 
  spirit’s Rank, to see whether the Taoist correctly draws 
  the talisman and performs the associated ritual.
  Sleepers and Sleepwalkers
  A Sleepwalker can have the Lu Merit. This indicates 
  she received genuine Taoist training and initiation from 
  a true master (and so she had the Mentor Merit at the 
  time). Although she did not Awaken, she understood 
  enough to forge a true connection to the spirit world. 
  Since a Sleepwalker lacks access to the Spirit Arcanum, 
  however, her player merely rolls Dexterity + Occult – the 
  spirit’s Rank. For the weak spirits of a lesser initiate’s lu, 
  the chance of success is still quite good.
  Like all talismanic magic, a mere Sleeper has very little 
  chance to invoke the spirits of a lu, no matter how well 
  he performs the ritual or how elegant his calligraphy. 
  The petty spirits of a lu, however, are not very bright. If 
  they should happen to pass by a correctly drawn talis-
  man, the chances are good that they will perform their 
  set task. Thus, even a charlatan Taoist may get lucky 
  now and then. Fortunately, the registers of orthodox 
  Taoist schools only contain spirits for beneficial works. 
  Less fortunately, old books may provide the talismans 
  of heterodox sects who included curses and other black 
  magic in their lu.
  Internal Alchemy: the Body Cosmic
  All things unite in the Tao, but some of the Ten Thou-
  sand Things are more united than others. Taoism posits 
  deep affinities between the realms of Heaven, Earth and 
  Man. Everything in one realm has counterparts in the 
  others. As such, a Taoist’s most important laboratory, 
  temple and instrument of magic is his own body.
  Taoist tradition assigns special importance to five internal 
  organs: the heart, lungs, spleen, liver and kidneys. These 
  five viscera correlate to the five elements, as well as the five 
  directions, five planets, seasons, colors, flavors and so on. 
  They are called Ts’ang, or Zang, “Reservoirs,” because each 
  organ can become a vessel filled with elemental qi.
  The five viscera show their importance through their 
  influence on health. Taoist medical theory says that if 
  one organ has too much or too little qi, this can cause 
  disease. A person can restore balance by eating foods 
  whose elemental character strengthens the organ whose 
  element restrains the element of the offending organ. For 
  instance, the liver connects to Wood while the heart’s 
  nature is Fire. Fire destroys wood; so, if a person became 
  sick because of an overactive liver, a Taoist would prescribe 
  foods that strengthen the heart.
  Taoism also posits a number of purely metaphysical enti-
  ties in the human body. The most important of these are 
  the three “cinnabar fields” located in the head, the heart 
  and the space between the kidneys. The lower cinnabar 
  field may be the same as another metaphysical “organ,” 
  the Yellow Court — the nomenclature of Taoist scriptures 
  is extremely cryptic here, and not at all consistent.
  According to the Yellow Court Scripture and other eso-
  teric texts, a Taoist can perform an “inner alchemy” to 
  produce nothing less than the Elixir of Life itself — the 
  drug of immortality. This involves charging the five 
  viscera with qi, then fusing that qi into new forms and 
  cycling it through the energy channels of the body. The 
  ancient scriptures promise that the internal alchemist’s 
  body will “shine like vermilion, illuminating 1,000 li,” 
  that his bones become like jade, or that he can dissolve 
  his body and ascend to Heaven in a blaze of radiance. 
  Later scriptures offer subtler achievements: By calling 
  elemental qi from various organs into his mouth, mix-
  ing them with solar or lunar energy and imbuing them 
  into the saliva that he then swallows, the Taoist evokes 
  the Three Heavenly Worthies and places them within 
  the three cinnabar fields. Lesser gods dwell in the five 
  viscera, the palaces of his brain and other organs. The 
  Taoist’s body thus becomes identical with Heaven.
  Visionary Journeys
  The scriptures and legends of Taoism tell of sages 
  and masters miraculously traveling vast distances, even 
  to the ends of the Earth, ascending into Heaven and 
  descending in paradises and hells hidden underground. 
  The legends take these stories literally. The scriptures, 
  however, describe these as visionary journeys undertaken 
  in meditation. As the Tao Te Ching says, “The sage can 
  travel the world without leaving his room.”
  
  56
  All this is merely practice, however, for visionary quests 
  the scriptures describe in remarkable detail. Some des-
  tinations are coterminous with real geography. In the 
  material world, for instance, Mao Shan is a hill less than 
  a thousand feet high. In vision, however, its interior holds 
  paradisiacal lands within vast caverns.
  More often, however, the Taoist undertakes a vision-
  ary journey to mystical, mythical realms. The ancient 
  Chinese believed the world was flat and square: At the 
  north, south, east and west poles of the world rose enor-
  mous mountains inhabited by gods, genii, immortals 
  and strange races such as people with the heads of birds 
  or only one arm and one leg. At the world’s center rose 
  the cosmic mountain of K’un-lun, abode of Hsi Wang 
  Mu, Queen Mother of the West, and the peach-tree of 
  immortality. Jeweled trees and terraces of jade and gold 
  further ornament the holy mountains.
  In these visions, the Taoist met the gods of the five 
  directions and received from them “efflorescences” or 
  elixirs of the five elements. For instance, one scripture 
  tells how the sage Lord P’ei visited the Green Hillock of 
  the uttermost East, where he met the Green Emperor 
  who fed him “green efflorescence” (the power of Wood) 
  and “solar water.” Lord P’ei followed this with a journey 
  to the furthest west, where he swam in the White Water 
  and climbed the Mountain of the Void, where the True 
  Man of Great Simplicity taught him to absorb the power 
  of the sun and moon.
  Certain scriptures even provide maps for the cosmic 
  mountains. These “maps” take the form of talismans com-
  posed of squarish black blobs cut by narrow, wriggling white 
  blobs that represent the caverns within the mountains. Red 
  lines represent rivers that flow from the caverns.
  Visionary flights to the cosmic mountains are only 
  the start of a Taoist master’s travels, however. He may 
  also fly to the sun and moon, the five planets and the 
  stars of the Big Dipper. At each location, he encounters 
  more gods, presents tablets of passage and receives new 
  enlightenments and immortalizing divine nourishments 
  of qi. These locations are all, of course, magnificent with 
  gold, jewels, flowers and wonders beyond counting. The 
  sun, for instance, contains a walled city, a Valley of Seven 
  Jewels, a pond of multi-hued water lilies, another pond 
  of Golden Essence in Fusion, the Palace of Universal 
  Yang and the Court of Liquid Fire. The people of the 
  sun grow 24 feet tall and wear red clothes.
  To a skeptical Sleeper, all this may seem like a rather 
  pointless exercise in daydreaming. Mages familiar with 
  astral travel, however, may wonder if the Taoists have found 
  something real — or at least, as real as anything in the subtle 
  planes of mind. After all, meditation doesn’t require an 
  Taoist Immortality
  From ancient times, Taoist doctrine prom-
  ised immortality to its adepts. Internal 
  alchemy was only one method. Taoists also 
  practiced external alchemy: Recipe-books 
  survive that describe diverse pills and drugs 
  meant to grant immortality. Since these 
  drugs were compounds of mercury and 
  arsenic, they would certainly send you to 
  Heaven in short order. The theory behind 
  such lethal elixirs was that if properly ad-
  ministered, they would kill the metaphysical 
  entities responsible for aging and death.
  Early Taoists also sought immortality 
  through fasting and other ascetic practices. 
  They believed that with practice, they could 
  sustain themselves entirely on qi from the air, 
  and by swallowing their own saliva. Con-
  suming talismans and various drugs could 
  help dull the appetite until the body purged 
  the impurities taken from grosser food (and, 
  possibly, gave hallucinations of heavenly 
  ascent). Modern Taoism rejects such extreme 
  methods; contemporary doctrine simply 
  enjoins a well-balanced diet. The ancient 
  doctrine enjoyed a modern revival, however 
  through the “Breatharian” cult.
  Even stranger methods included eating 
  chunks of rock crystal. Somehow, the crystal 
  was cooked so it became soft and ed-
  ible. The recipe has not survived. Over the 
  centuries, however, Taoism has rejected all 
  such attempts to gain immortality by exter-
  nal means. Through meditation, the body 
  and soul create their own immortality elixir. 
  And indeed, Taoist masters seem to enjoy 
  remarkably long and healthy lives. Maybe a 
  balanced diet, martial arts exercises, avoid-
  ing alcohol, tobacco and other drugs, and 
  stress-reducing meditations account for it… 
  or maybe there’s something more.
  Taoist meditation involves a great deal of visualization. 
  The Taoist visualizes colored mists of elemental qi, which 
  he sucks into his mouth, mixes with saliva and swallows 
  to empower the five viscera. He imagines gods living in 
  his body or descending from Heaven.
  
  57
  CHAPTER TWO: 
  ,, TRADITIONAL
  ,, TRADITIONS
  Awakened consciousness. Maybe the Taoists have found 
  — or created — locations in the Astral Planes where they 
  encounter godlike entities. Perhaps those entities even give 
  them gifts of Mana or some other sort of power.
  Crossing the Astral Threshold, however, requires ex-
  pending Mana. How does a Taoist Sleeper acquire Mana? 
  Is it possible that when they imagine imbibing power from 
  the air or the sun, they really do?
  Mages also need to embark on their 
  astral journeys within a Demesne or 
  a powerful Hallow. Surely, very few 
  Taoists would have access to such 
  locations. If Taoist disciplines en-
  able anyone to visit Astral Space, 
  without the need for a mystically-
  charged location, that would be… 
  very interesting.
  Even if these visionary journeys 
  were just elaborate daydreams for 
  most Taoists, other mages would like 
  to know if Awakened Taoists visit 
  astral locations such as the caverns 
  beneath Mao Shan, K’un-lun, or the 
  heavenly palaces of the Big Dipper. 
  Any stable location in the astral 
  planes, which mages have repeatedly 
  visited for more than a millennium, 
  deserves investigation.
  High Ritual Magic
  Even the simplest talisman carries a 
  good deal of ritual in its preparation. 
  The meditations that fill the body with 
  qi and send the mind on astral voyages 
  involve ritual as well. These ceremonies are private. Some 
  Taoist operations, however, involve public performances 
  of magic. The “audience” can range from a single client 
  to an entire town, and the ceremony may take days to 
  complete.
  The Rite of Cosmic Renewal
  The most important of all Taoist ceremonies has a 
  simple name: Chiao, or “Offering.” It takes place in a 
  temple, with images of gods by the score or even by the 
  hundred — but the Chiao is a great deal more than a 
  rite of public worship. In this ceremony, an entire com-
  munity joins a Taoist master in restoring their harmony 
  in the Tao.
  Originally, the Rite of Cosmic Renewal took place 
  every 60 years, at the transition between one cycle of 
  the calendar and the next. Now communities perform 
  it more often, whenever they feel the cosmic order needs 
  reinforcement, such as times of plague or social upheaval. 
  A Chiao is important enough to attract visitors from 
  nearby communities — divine visitors. Other temples 
  send images of their gods to the temple that performs 
  the rite. Mortal visitors come too.
  Merit: Astral Adept (•••)
  Prerequisite: Magical Tradition (Taoist); 
  or Sleepwalker plus Taoist Skill package 
  (see “Becoming a Taoist,” p. 51)
  Effects: An expert at astral projection can 
  meditate her way past the Astral Threshold 
  without the need for a Demesne, Hallow 
  or Mana. For each stage of Astral Space 
  entered, however, the mystic’s player must 
  roll an exceptional success. Reaching the 
  Anima Mundi, therefore, would require 
  three exceptional successes in the course of 
  the extended Meditation roll.
  
  58
  In its classic form, the Chiao takes five days. An ab-
  breviated ceremony may take just three. The entire 
  community joins in the ritual through banners, lion and 
  dragon dances and other festivities. The temple priests 
  conduct many of the subsidiary rituals, decked out in 
  spectacular robes. A proper Chiao, however, requires the 
  participation of a real Taoist master.
  The Chiao begins with an announcement of the 
  ceremony to the gods and spirits. The priests purify 
  the temple and the area around it using holy water, 
  firecrackers, ritual swords and talismanic symbols traced 
  in the air. Actors perform a play about Chung Kuei, the 
  legendary banisher of demons. A new fire is kindled and 
  consecrated, and talismans invoking the five directions, 
  their elements and divine guardians are placed about 
  the temple. Priests read from various scriptures each 
  day. Restless spirits of the dead — the hungry ghosts 
  — are invited in and given offerings, that they may find 
  release, either to reincarnate or ascend to Heaven. The 
  ceremony ends with a final banquet.
  The Taoist master, however, performs the ceremonies 
  that give the Chiao its meaning and power. In the course 
  of the ceremonies, he invokes the Three Heavenly 
  Worthies through his internal alchemy. In this way, 
  he works backward from the Ten Thousand Things to 
  make his body itself a vessel for the archetypal realm of 
  Prior Heaven. In the climactic ritual, however, he expels 
  all the gods from his body: first the lesser gods of the 
  various visceral courts and cinnabar fields, and finally 
  the Three Heavenly Worthies themselves. Emptied of 
  all the forms that evolve from the Tao, he at last may 
  contemplate the Tao itself. He becomes the Tao. Heaven, 
  Earth and Man fuse. The laity, the priesthood and the 
  master join in one rite, along with all the spirits from 
  the Heavenly Worthies to the most wretched ghost. The 
  cosmos returns to its source, and is renewed, placed in 
  balance once more.
  The Rite of Cosmic Renewal is not specifically an act 
  of magic. The Taoist does not seek to achieve a particular, 
  concrete goal; he asserts and reinforces the cosmic order 
  that makes all goals possible. Nevertheless, the Chiao 
  might have some magical applications.
  Storytellers must decide for themselves whether the 
  Chiao has power of its own when performed by Taoist 
  Sleepers. It might. The intense visualization of the Taoist 
  master and the emotional support given by the attendant 
  priests might have a powerful effect on the Astral Plane 
  or in the Shadow Realm, and certainly on Resonance 
  (see p. 23). Spirits may well respond to the ceremonies 
  and offerings; angry godlings may be mollified, and lost 
  souls be persuaded to move on.
  The Awakened might turn the Rite of Cosmic Renewal 
  into a massive act of countermagic, banishing and dispel-
  ling every supernatural force in the area. The preliminary 
  rites give a Taoist mage days in which to accumulate suc-
  cesses for both Potency and area of effect. Of course, the 
  Taoist would use Five-Cycle countermagic (see p. 60); and 
  instead of pitting a single Arcanum against the Arcana 
  of the next element in the cycle, he would invoke every 
  Arcanum in which he had sufficiently high rating, for 
  the broadest possible exorcism of mystic forces.
  The Chiao could be a powerful exorcism against forces 
  of the Abyss. The Rite of Cosmic Renewal asserts the 
  wholeness of the Tapestry and the connection between 
  the Supernal and Fallen Worlds. It is everything the Abyss 
  is not. In this case, the Storyteller might simply apply 
  the Taoist mage’s highest-rated Arcanum in an extended 
  ritual of countermagic against an Abyssal demon, curse 
  or Paradox effect. Even Sleeper Taoists might perform 
  an effective Chiao; the Storyteller might roll the Taoist’s 
  Willpower and apply it as countermagic, without any 
  accumulation of successes.
  Invocation of the Six Chia Spirits
  Some time during Taoism’s period of sectarian strife, 
  fallen Taoist adepts began summoning six powerful 
  spirits and using them for black magic. Some legends say 
  Ch’ih Yu, the first black magician, first summoned these 
  malevolent Chia Spirits but no documentation has been 
  found before the 12th century CE. These six demons are so 
  powerful that their mere presence can desecrate the Rite 
  of Cosmic Renewal and prevent its proper performance. 
  An orthodox Taoist can summon the Chia Spirits, but 
  only to help a deposed emperor regain the throne or to 
  combat other black magic.
  The Chia Spirits, indeed, constitute a small but exceed-
  ingly powerful Lu, and each of the six commands legions 
  of lesser spirits. The ritual to gain control of this register 
  of spirits is correspondingly long and complex — fully com-
  parable to the most elaborate demon-summonings found 
  in European grimoires such as the Key of Solomon.
  The entire process is far too long to describe in detail. 
  In brief, it involves concentric circles of stones represent-
  ing the 64 I Ching hexagrams, banners representing the 
  28 constellations of the Lunar Houses, a central flagpole 
  representing the god of the North Star, a tent of blue-green 
  cloth, and two altars for ritual implements and sacrificial 
  offerings. The complete ceremony takes 60 days, in five-day 
  cycles. Each of the Chia Spirits has its own talisman, of 
  course, which the adept must draw from memory without 
  flaw or hesitation. (They shall not be depicted here, for 
  reasons that should be obvious.) The finished talisman 
  
  59
  CHAPTER TWO: 
  ,, TRADITIONAL
  ,, TRADITIONS
  is stamped with a special seal and burned to invoke a 
  particular Chia spirit. Each ceremony to conjure and 
  bind the spirits must take place on a particular hour and 
  day, with directions set by the handle of the Big Dipper at 
  that time. The Taoist must also perform certain mudras 
  and visualize particular images to “internalize” the spirits 
  — binding them to his own body and life force, to call 
  upon later through their talismans.
  Tradition says, however, that holding the Six Chia Spir-
  its as servitors is a terrible drain on a Taoist’s life force. 
  While most Taoists enjoy long and healthy lives, masters 
  of the Chia Spirits invariably die young. Awakened Taoists 
  fear these spirits might come from the Abyss, for surely 
  they defy the laws of Heaven. If so, the Chia Spirits might 
  claim a price more terrible than a Taoist’s life.
  A mage might be able to abbreviate some of the 60-day 
  ceremony for binding the Chia spirits… or she might not. 
  If a character can gain the Six Chia Spirits as a Lu, they 
  constitute a five-dot Merit. Alternatively, calling on the 
  Chia Spirits is a rote based on “Greater Spirit Summons” 
  (Spirit 3; see Mage: The Awakening, p. 249). The Taoist 
  still must perform a long series of ceremonies as an act 
  of extended spellcasting to summon the Chia Spirits and 
  pact with them, but from then on, she can summon them 
  using the “Summoning Talisman” rote (see p. 53).
  Thunder Magic and the Ho-t’u Dance
  The most powerful Taoist exorcisms call on the power 
  of thunder to banish spirits and break curses. To gain 
  this power, a Taoist must meditate during a spring thun-
  derstorm and draw the charged air into his body. He 
  circulates the thunder-qi through his viscera, energizing 
  each organ in turn, and then collects the thunder-qi in his 
  gall bladder. He can later call on this reservoir of power to 
  “light the furnace” for his alchemical meditations, expel 
  spirits, and turn black magic against its source.
  A basic thunder magic exorcism involves calling qi from 
  particular internal organs, fusing it with thunder-power, 
  and exhaling the resulting mystically-charged breath while 
  making certain mudras. A Taoist master of thunder magic 
  can force gods and demons to vacate mortals they possess. 
  When faced with the Six Chia Spirits, however, a Tao-
  ist resorts to a more elaborate procedure that combines 
  thunder magic with a special dance.
  According to mythology, the divine emperor Yü the 
  Great ended a cosmic flood and repaired the world with 
  the help of talismans of the five cosmic elements and a 
  magical dance. Both the talismans and the dance derive 
  from the magic square, the Ho-t’u that he saw on the 
  back of a swimming dragon-horse. The numbers in the 
  Ho-t’u add up to 15 along every row, column or diagonal. 
  The Ho-t’u also corresponds to the circular arrangement 
  of the eight I Ching trigrams, with the Yin-Yang monad 
  occupying the central box. In the zigzagging dance of 
  Yü, a Taoist steps from box to box of the magic square, 
  counting each number from one to nine.
  To ward an area, a Taoist thunder magician dances 
  the steps of the Ho-t’u 12 times, turning 30 degrees and 
  pacing a ways before repeating the steps. In this way, he 
  traces out a circle infused with thunder-power, shaped 
  by a symbol of cosmic order. Even the Six Chia Spirits 
  cannot cross this barrier. At the Taoist’s command, the 
  thwarted demon must then return to vent its rage on 
  the black magician who summoned it.
  To a mage, the meditation to collect the power of thunder 
  looks a lot like the oblations used to harvest Mana from a 
  Hallow. The power of thunder magic may be that of Mana 
  itself, given the resonance of each element and stored in 
  the five viscera and the gall bladder. The Ho-t’u dance is 
  clearly some form of ward — one of great power against 
  which Chinese demons, at least, are powerless.
  Taoist Rote: Thunder Meditation 
  (Prime •• or •••)
  Spell: “Transform Aura” (see Mage: The Awakening, 
  p. 223) or “Channel Mana” (p. 224)
  Dice Pool: Resolve + Medicine + Prime
  The mage uses a meditative oblation to collect Mana 
  during a thunderstorm. The rote enables her to imbue 
  the Mana with elemental resonances and store it in her 
  viscera, so that motes (points) with different resonances 
  do not mix. This gives the Taoist reservoirs of Mana with 
  whatever resonance she needs for a particular working. 
  Each success changes the resonance of one mote and 
  binds it to a particular organ.
  Taoist Rote: Ho-t’u Dance 
  (Space ••• + Spirit •)
  Spell: “Ban” (see Mage: The Awakening, p. 237)
  Dice Pool: Resolve + Occult + Space
  Unlike the basic rote, however, the Taoist mage imbues 
  the ward with Mana given the resonance of thunder. If 
  the mage allocates all her successes to Potency rather 
  than area or duration, she can evoke a ward powerful 
  enough that even the terrible Chia spirits hesitate to test 
  themselves against it, and consider themselves no longer 
  obliged to attack a victim thus protected.
  Storytelling Hints
  Since China encompasses one-fifth of the world’s popu-
  lation and a large fraction of its geography, one could 
  
  60
  run an entire chronicle set in China, with mages accept-
  ing Taoist doctrines and methods as a matter of course. 
  Unlike the West, a Taoist mage in China can perform 
  some feats of magic openly; exorcism and similar feats 
  remain socially accepted activities for Taoists. A Taoist 
  chronicle could also span a breathtaking range of settings 
  and challenges, from teeming, polluted megacities and 
  the ever-suspicious (but frequently corrupt) officials of 
  the Communist Party, to gorgeous astral domains and 
  grotesque demons like the Six Chia Spirits.
  The widespread Chinese Diaspora, however, means 
  that Taoist characters can appear just about anywhere. 
  An ethnic Chinese mage might well find a Taoist as 
  his first mentor. Even if the Taoist isn’t Awakened, the 
  doctrines and practices resemble magery enough that 
  a novice mage could find their study enlightening. If 
  the Awakened Taoist decides to interact with the wider 
  Awakened community, she brings a distinctively different 
  style of magic to her cabal and Consilium.
  Like other occult traditions, Taoism offers important 
  roles for Sleepers. Taoist doctrine says that power comes 
  from enlightenment, but ordinary people can gain that 
  enlightenment through their own efforts. You don’t need 
  some lightning bolt from Heaven to meditate, scribe 
  talismans and attempt inner alchemy. Storytellers must 
  decide for themselves whether such practices offer any 
  real benefits — but Taoists sure sound like they reach for 
  the Supernal World. Mages accustomed to thinking of 
  themselves as the only people who really know what’s 
  going on may find their Wisdom put to the test when 
  they need to bow before a Taoist Sleeper and humbly 
  ask for his help.
  Although Taoism includes a lot of practical magic, this 
  mystical practice sets contemplative enlightenment as 
  its highest goal. Taoism lends itself to themes of search, 
  teachers and students, and exploration. But although 
  Taoists seek to touch the Supernal, their tradition also 
  values community involvement. After all, Taoism’s high-
  est ritual, the Rite of Cosmic Renewal, involves whole 
  towns. Perhaps the greatest enlightenment is not the 
  ascension into Heaven — or the Supernal World — but 
  the return to Earth.
  Alternate Magic: 
  Yin-Yang Five-Cycle Countermagic 
  (Storyteller’s Options)
  The cycles of elemental production and restriction 
  suggest alternative approaches to countermagic. From 
  a Taoist perspective, using an Arcanum against itself is 
  counterproductive. The elements of reality do not can-
  Story Seeds
  • Southward, Ho! In the course of an 
  investigation, the cabal learns that the infor-
  mation they seek is held by the Old Man of 
  the South Pole — one of the gods described 
  in Taoist visionary journeys and wonder-
  tales. Is there such a personage? Is he a god 
  of the Shadow Realm, or an entity on the As-
  tral Plane? Either way, the characters need a 
  Taoist master to give them directions.
  • Dancing with Demons: A charlatan 
  who sells phony talismans acquires a real 
  talisman of great power, or perhaps even a 
  complete lu. Without knowing it, he releases 
  several potent spirits who start raising 
  havoc (maybe even the Six Chia Spirits). 
  Even if the cabal doesn’t care where these 
  Chinese demons came from, they may need 
  an adept to teach them the Ho-t’u dance to 
  have any hope of banishing the spirits.
  • The Cosmic Offering: A massive 
  Paradox ripped a breach in reality that just 
  won’t close. Things are coming through 
  from the Astral Planes, the Shadow Realm 
  or even the Abyss. Everything around the 
  rip is falling apart, from buildings to respect 
  for laws. Perhaps the Rite of Cosmic Re-
  newal can restore order and harmony to the 
  cel themselves out. For instance, setting Water against 
  Water increases the flood. Instead, a Taoist looks for 
  the element that naturally restrains the dominant force 
  in the phenomenon at hand — matching Yin to Yang, 
  restoring balance. Earth dams up Water, controlling 
  the flood.
  For the Arcana, this means associating each Path and 
  Watchtower with an element in five-cycle theory. To 
  counterspell one Arcanum, use an Arcanum associated 
  with the controlling or restraining element. For example, 
  Earth — the element of stability, in China as in the West 
  — corresponds to the Moros Path, while ever-flowing 
  Water, the sustainer of life, corresponds to the Thyrsus 
  Path. Thus, a Taoist mage would use Death or Matter 
  to counterspell magic of Life or Spirit.
  The way that each element tends to produce the 
  next in the cycle suggests another option. Instead of 
  directly countering a spell, a mage might pull the force 
  of its magic to the next element in the cycle. The power 
  
  61
  CHAPTER TWO: 
  ,, TRADITIONAL
  ,, TRADITIONS
  doesn’t disappear, but it doesn’t follow the Imago set 
  by the caster, either. In this case, the countering mage 
  might even detour the spell’s power into a spell of his 
  own — though this suggests a more advanced degree of 
  arcane mastery. For example, Water produces Wood, so 
  an expert at Forces or Prime might pull away the power 
  of a spell based on Life or Spirit.
  Adding five-cycle countermagic to orthodox counter-
  spells and Prime-based dispelling may seem excessively 
  generous. Taoist mages, however, don’t use traditional 
  counterspells. The choice between two Arcana to work 
  a counterspell still gives Taoist mages broader options 
  than non-Taoist mages enjoy; to compensate, Storytellers 
  can rule that five-cycle counterspelling requires two dots 
  in a suitable Arcanum, instead of only one.
  The mage also needs to purchase the Magical Tradi-
  tion Merit (Taoism). As foci, the Taoist could employ 
  traditional implements such as a paper fan or a sword 
  engraved with the Big Dipper — but Taoist tradition 
  supplies more unusual options. For instance, the Taoist 
  might need Mana with the proper elemental Resonance 
  stored in his viscera.
  Yin-Yang Five-Cycle Countermagic Table
  Path 
  Ruling Arcana 
  Element 
  Controlled By 
  Produces
  Acanthus 
  Fate, Time 
  Metal 
  Fire 
  Water
  Mastigos 
  Mind, Space 
  Fire 
  Water 
  Earth
  Moros 
  Death, Matter 
  Earth 
  Wood 
  Fire
  Obrimos 
  Forces, Prime 
  Wood 
  Metal 
  Water
  Thyrsus 
  Life, Spirit 
  Water 
  Earth 
  Wood
  Five-Cycle Counterspell (Suitable Arcanum at ••)
  A five-cycle counterspell uses the same rules as regu-
  lar counterspells, as described on p. 123 of Mage: The 
  Awakening, with two exceptions. Instead of using the 
  same Arcanum as one found in the target spell, the mage 
  uses one of the Arcana associated with the contrary or 
  controlling element. The mage also must be at least an 
  apprentice of the Arcanum she chooses. Each success 
  rolled reduces the target spell’s Potency by one.
  Five-Cycle Spell Theft 
  (Suitable Arcanum ••••)
  A Taoist adept of an Arcanum can use it to steal the power 
  from another mage’s spell and add it to his own — coaxing 
  his opponent’s power into a new pattern. The mage matches 
  the target spell’s Arcanum with its element, and then invokes 
  an Arcanum associated with the Element that comes next in 
  the productive cycle. Each success rolled reduces the target 
  spell’s Potency by one… and adds that as a spell factor (either 
  Potency, Target, or Duration, chosen by the Taoist spellcaster) 
  to another spell of the same Arcanum, cast as a combined 
  spell with the spell theft. As usual with combined spells, 
  the required Arcanum rating for the concurrent spell rises 
  by one dot, and both the spell theft and combined spell 
  lose two dice from the spellcasting dice pool.
  Resonance
  The correlation between Paths and the five elements 
  also suggest distinctive forms of resonance for Taoist 
  magic. Any spell or enchantment carries the resonance 
  of the elements that correspond to the relevant Arcana. 
  Every spirit also has an elemental association, so a spirit’s 
  powers also leave an elemental trace.
  The table of elemental correspondences (see p. 55) sup-
  plies novel ways a mage could perceive Taoist resonance. 
  While Arcana might be perceived as colored auras, a mage 
  could also perceive a mystical trace as a taste, a direction 
  or a feeling in parts of her body associated with particular 
  elements. For instance, Life magic corresponds to Water: 
  a mage might perceive its trace as wetness, a salty taste, a 
  tugging toward the north, or a twinge in her kidneys.
  Sample Character
  Master Elvis Quan
  Quote: Very good car! Good match for you, very lucky! But… 
  You didn’t come here for a car, did you. Come into my office, 
  sir, and tell me your problem.
  Background: Elvis Quan’s parents fled to Hong Kong 
  after the Communist takeover of China. They thought it 
  auspicious to name their son after a famous person. Young 
  Elvis became interested in Taoism and apprenticed himself 
  to a priest of Shen-Hsiao, or popular Taoism. Elvis soon 
  surpassed his master — not difficult, the man was a complete 
  fraud — and found a true mentor who initiated him into 
  Mao Shan Taoism. After more than a decade of training, 
  including a walking tour of China that took Elvis to Mao 
  Shan itself and several other sacred mountains, Elvis received 
  his ordination from the Heavenly Master in Taiwan. He 
  returned to Hong Kong to become a professional Taoist.
  When Hong Kong returned to Chinese rule, however, 
  Elvis packed up his family and left. His late parents had 
  
  62
  made him swear never to live under Communist rule, 
  and he felt obligated to keep that promise. There wasn’t 
  much call for real Taoist adepts in his new country, so 
  Elvis had a choice: Sell a cheapened, simplified Taoism 
  to the New Age market, or do something else for a living. 
  He opened a car dealership.
  The local Chinese community knows that Elvis Quan is 
  an ordained Taoist. He conducts religious rites in a rented 
  hall or private homes. The few people who still believe 
  in such things also hire him to prepare talismans and 
  exorcise their homes. Every car that Elvis sells, however, 
  has a talisman hanging from the rear-view mirror — “Good 
  luck!” he says with a grin. “Old Chinese custom!” Very 
  few people outside the Asian community believe him, 
  but the talismans are quite real.
  Description: Elvis Quan is a short, plump Chinese 
  man in his early 60s, with silver-gray hair worn short and 
  slicked back. At work, he wears leisure suits with loud ties. 
  When he conducts Taoist rituals, he wears embroidered 
  robes, a black velvet skullcap and a golden coronet. His 
  30-something son assists him in rituals (as well as the 
  dealership), but possesses no special abilities.
  Storytelling Hints: Elvis Quan is a Sleepwalker. He 
  possesses a register of minor spirits through his ordina-
  tion, has a sense for the presence of spirits and has 
  occasionally succeeded at astral travel. He is still work-
  ing on his internal alchemy, which will promote him to 
  the highest grade of Taoism. Elvis does not specifically 
  know of mages, but he believes that internal alchemy 
  will bring him much greater awareness and power than 
  he has now. Nevertheless, Elvis knows a lot and he isn’t 
  afraid to confront demons and other spirits.
  If anyone outside the community comes looking for 
  a Taoist, Elvis denies that he is one. This is standard 
  operating procedure for Taoists, to discourage idle 
  curiosity-seekers. If a character can prove she’s “in the 
  know,” however, Elvis provides whatever assistance and 
  education he feels the seeker is ready to understand, at 
  only a modest fee. If he senses supernatural forces at 
  work, he gets straight to the point.
  If Elvis Quan has a failing, it’s a deeply concealed 
  spiritual pride: Faced with the Awakened, Elvis would 
  try to remove himself, protesting that such enlightened 
  persons do not need his poor skills — thus enabling him to 
  avoid confronting his own limitations. He would have 
  great difficulty resisting any promise that he could gain 
  such power and enlightenment himself, though.
  Dedicated Magical Tool: As a Taoist, Elvis owns 
  a selection of brushes, pens, paper and seals for 
  talismans, a bowl for holy water, censers, a cash dagger 
  and other ritual implements.
  Mental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 4, Resolve 4
  Physical Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 3, 
  Stamina 3
  Social Attributes: Presence 4, Manipulation 3, 
  Composure 3
  
  63
  CHAPTER TWO: 
  ,, TRADITIONAL
  ,, TRADITIONS
  Mental Skills: Academics (Taoism) 3, Crafts (Cal-
  ligraphy) 2, Investigation 2, Medicine 2, Occult 4
  Physical Skills: Athletics 2, Brawl 2, Larceny 2, 
  Weaponry 2
  Social Skills: Empathy 3, Expression 3, Intimidation 
  (Threatening Spirits) 2, Persuasion 2, Socialize 1, 
  Subterfuge 2
  Merits: Astral Adept (see p. 57), Contacts (Chinese 
  Community, Chamber of Commerce), Holistic Aware-
  ness, Imbued Item (Cash Dagger; see below) 4, 
  Language (English, Mandarin; Cantonese is native), 
  Library (Chinese Spirit World, Taoist Lore), Lu 2 (see 
  p. 54), Meditative Mind, Resources 3, Retainer 1, 
  Sanctum 2, Sleepwalker, Status 1, Unseen Sense
  Willpower: 7
  Wisdom: 7
  Virtue: Charity
  Vice: Envy
  Initiative: 6
  Defense: 3
  Speed: 10
  Health: 8
  Weapons/Attacks:
  Type 
  Damage Size Special 
  Dice Pool
  Cash 
  1(L) 
  1 
  Only affects 5
  Dagger  
   
  spirits
  Notes: Elvis Quan’s Lu permits him to grant a variety 
  of protective blessings, such as warding a home 
  against the weakest of hostile spirits, preventing car 
  accidents or general good luck (one extra success on 
  one challenging task within the next week, selected 
  at random by the Storyteller). The most powerful 
  spirit-minion in his Lu is a Rank 2 spirit that can bar 
  ghosts of rank 1 or 2 from a building.
  Cash Dagger (Imbued Item ••••)
  Taoist tradition ascribes exorcistic power 
  to swords or daggers made by stringing 
  coins on a loop of wire emerging from a hilt 
  to form a stylized blade. A “cash sword” 
  is most powerful if all the coins come from 
  the reign of the same emperor, but a “cash 
  dagger” should be made of five coins, each 
  from the reign of a different emperor to 
  symbolize the gods of the five directions. 
  Such weapons can be enchanted with vari-
  ous spells to harm or compel spirits. Elvis 
  Quan’s dagger is enchanted with “Harm 
  Spirit” (Spirit 3; see Mage: The Awaken-
  ing, p. 249). It deals the normal damage 
  of a dagger, but only to spirits that have 
  materialized, exist in Twilight, or possess 
  mortal bodies. The dagger does not harm a 
  possessed mortal’s flesh.
  
  64
  
  65
  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  Chapter Three: 
  Offspring
  “The only reason you’re here is that you’re Awakened. They 
  know that. They think you’re already santo. Otherwise outsiders 
  aren’t welcome.” Miguel’s tone was low, gentle but cautionary. 
  Fuego didn’t seem to get the hint.
  “Like I couldn’t read all about this stuff at my local Bor-
  ders, man.”
  Miguel shook his head. They were approaching the ilé, and he 
  could feel the ashé in the air even as he smelled the herbs and 
  the stink of the goat, the sacriﬁ cial animal for tonight’s ebbó. 
  “You can’t. Not this.” They paused at the top of the stairs. A 
  heavy drum beat pulsed below them, from behind a rickety-look-
  ing wooden door marked with white and red grafﬁ ti. “You can 
  read about what we do, but you can’t read about what it’s like 
  to see the spirits here. You can read about what we believe, 
  but you can’t read about what we see.” He put a hand on his 
  friend’s chest. “If you can keep respectful, man, follow me. If 
  not, there’s a good bar a block up.”
  Fuego stared at Miguel, and focused on the green and yel-
  low beads around his cabal mate’s neck. “How do you stay with 
  this, even after what you’ve seen?” He had stopped wearing his 
  cruciﬁ x the day after he’d Awakened.
  Miguel smiled. “Because this is who I am, man. This is my 
  camino.” He started down the stairs. 
  Fuego watched as he opened the door and felt a wave of 
  power wash over him. There was something behind that door, 
  something in the music, the ﬁ re and the gathered faithful, and 
  it was strong…and aware. He followed Miguel into the ilé, and 
  felt the spirits watching. He clutched at his chest, where his 
  cruciﬁ x had once hung, and hoped he met with their approval.
  
  66
  The traditions in this chapter originated in other, often 
  larger, traditions. Santería is a New World religion that 
  comes from the meeting of African Yoruba and Chris-
  tian Catholicism. The esoteric magical tradition of the 
  Knights Templar is part of the greater Christian religion. 
  Theosophy originated in the 19th century as a mixture 
  of Eastern and Western esoteric traditions. Just because 
  these traditions don’t have the same age-old pedigree or 
  “purity” of older traditions, doesn’t mean they aren’t 
  equally important or potent in their connection to the 
  Supernal trace. Indeed, some of these might even hold 
  more relevant truth for mages in the modern age than 
  occult ideas that have become timeworn with age. But 
  that’s for individual mages to discover for themselves.
  SANTERIA
  LA REGLA DE OCHA
  Pleasing the gods requires knowledge of their individual tastes and histories. All the 
  orichas have a particular four-legged animal that they must eat in the asiento, and with 
  these animals they eat their favorite birds.
  — Michael Atwood Mason, 
  Living Santería: Rituals and Experiences in an Afro-Cuban Religion
  ,
  Put people together, and they mix. It’s an unavoidable 
  fact of human nature. Slaves take on the practices of their 
  masters, hostages come to sympathize with their captors. 
  Two cultures with no common language will form a new 
  one (called, in linguistic terms, a pidgin) and their children 
  will embellish it, adding new words and grammatical 
  rules and solidifying it into a creole. When this happens 
  with religious traditions, even those traditions that, on 
  the surface, seem irreconcilable, the phenomenon is 
  called syncretism. A sociologist might call this a survival 
  mechanism, a way for a people to keep its beliefs at least 
  partially intact in the face of oppression (or, indeed, for 
  an oppressing culture to make its beliefs more appealing 
  to a conquered people). A mage, however, sees a differ-
  ent message in the fact that cultures always seem to find 
  common ground — the truth is there, beyond the Fallen 
  World, and even Sleepers can see parts of it. The bits of a 
  religion (or even a language) that a syncretic system keeps, 
  then, might be fragments of Supernal knowledge.
  Santería is one such syncretic religion. From its roots 
  in West Africa to its evolution in Cuba, it remains a 
  powerful and growing religion in the United States today. 
  The American media often misrepresents this tradition, 
  often portraying it as bloody, barbaric and replete with 
  black magic. The truth, though, is that Santería is no 
  more inherently evil than any religion. Acts for both 
  good and ill can be performed in service to the orishas, 
  should the practitioner so desire. 
  History
  Santería, as stated previously, traces its roots to the Yoruba 
  culture of West Africa, predominantly what is now Nigeria. 
  The religion as it exists today truly began when slave-trad-
  ers from Spain captured Africans (often sold into slavery 
  as punishment for a crime or as debtors) and transported 
  them to various Caribbean islands to work in mines and 
  on sugar plantations. These captives brought their spiritual 
  beliefs with them, but under Spanish law were required 
  to undergo baptism into Catholicism (indeed, the Span-
  ish Slave Code required slave owners to “educate” their 
  slaves, which generally translated solely into instruction 
  in Catholic worship). Unable to legally worship the gods 
  they knew, the slaves syncretized the orishas into Catholic 
  saints. Did they do this in the interest of safety, praying 
  to a saint outwardly but truly directing their energies 
  toward the appropriate orisha? Or did the slaves truly see 
  the similarities between asking an orisha for intercession 
  and praying to the patron saint of a given cause? 
  In truth, it might have been a bit of both. Of course 
  the slaves were oppressed, ripped from their homelands 
  and forced into labor in an environment with such a 
  high mortality rate that it was actually more profitable 
  for the Spanish to import new African workers than to 
  allow them to breed. Of course they clung to whatever 
  remnants of their culture that they could, even if that 
  meant changing some names here and there. It’s worth 
  
  67
  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  Languages and a Brief Glossary
  Santería is largely practiced among Cuban-Americans, and so much of its vocabulary comes 
  from Spanish. Since the religion’s roots are African, however, many of its terms also come from the 
  language of the Yoruba peoples of West Africa. Some of the terms given here have alternate spell-
  ings (“Lucumí,” for instance, is sometimes rendered “Lukumí” or “Lukumi”) that aren’t necessarily 
  any more or less “correct” than the ones given here.
  This glossary is by no means exhaustive, but is meant to present the reader with a few terms 
  that Santería characters can use in reference to their faith. Any good book on the subject should 
  turn up several pages more.
  adura: prayer (Yoruba)
  aleyo: person not initiated into Santería; 
  “foreigner” (Yoruba)
  ashé: power, blood, reality — the es-
  sence of the world itself. Mages within the 
  Santería community often use the term to 
  refer to Mana or Tass (Yoruba)
  asiento: initiation ceremony (Spanish)
  babalawo: male high priest of Santería 
  (Yoruba)
  camino: path or destiny; can also refer to 
  an avatar of the orishas (Spanish)
  ebbó: any ritual involving a sacrifice to an 
  orisha, or the sacrifice itself (Yoruba)
  egun: the dead (Yoruba)
  elekes: beaded necklaces presented to 
  a practitioner upon initiation; the beads 
  are colored in accordance with the orisha 
  appropriate to the person. (Yoruba; called 
  collares in Spanish)
  guerreros: the warriors; refers to the orishas 
  Elegguá, Oggún, Ochosi and Ósun (Spanish)
  ilé: sacred or ritual space, church (Yoruba)
  iyawó: recently initiated person (Yoruba)
  Lucumí: synonym for Santería; also refers 
  to the Yoruba culture or language, or simply 
  the Cuban term for the Yoruba language
  madrina: godmother
  ori: literally the head, but the term is more 
  precisely used to mean the soul (Yoruba)
  orisha: deities that maintain the world, 
  oversee and protect human beings and can 
  be enticed or bribed into performing ser-
  vices for those who know how to supplicate 
  them (Yoruba)
  padrino: godfather
  pataki: a story based on the life of an 
  orisha; a fable or myth (Yoruba)
  registro de entrada: a ritual to deter-
  mine an individual’s guardian spirit; simply 
  “registro” can refer to any consultation with 
  a divination expert (Spanish)
  Regla de Ocha: “rule of the saints,” an-
  other term for Santería (Spanish)
  santero/a: a priest or priestess of 
  Santería, consecrated (“made santo”) to a 
  particular orisha
  noting, too, that unlike in Haiti, where Catholic tradi-
  tions combined with African ones to a much greater 
  degree (leading eventually to the advent of the religion 
  known as Vodoun or Voodoo), in Cuba the slave-owners 
  didn’t make the same effort to Christianize the slaves. 
  This might have been due to previous slave rebellions in 
  Haiti, or to the aforementioned high mortality rate (no 
  point in converting the slaves, after all, if they were just 
  going to die in a few months anyway). But the end result 
  was the same: Without anything but a token attempt to 
  educate the slaves on Catholicism, combined with a high 
  rate of arrival from Africa (and thus a continually fresh 
  supply of practitioners of the native religion), the belief 
  system known as Santería or Lucumí arose. 
  Creation: Olodumare and Atlantis
  In the beginning, say the patakis, was ashé. The uni-
  verse was pure, formed from this sublime energy, the 
  lifeblood of the cosmos. And the name for this energy 
  was Olodumare, the Prime Mover, the Supreme Being. 
  
  68
  It was Olodumare who created all that is and shall be, 
  but he (insofar as the male pronoun is applicable at all) 
  wears many different masks and names. In his guise as 
  Alaaye, he gave life to all of creation. As Olofi, he acts 
  as the personal God of humanity (and it is in this guise 
  that a Christian might see him as God or a Muslim as 
  Allah), and has two other equivalent personas: Nzame 
  and Baba Nkwa. 
  Nzame created the first man (called Omo Oba) after 
  Olofi and Baba Nkwa noted that creation had no intel-
  ligent inhabitants. Omo Oba was formed from mud, 
  much like the creations of the Greek Titan Prometheus 
  (formed from clay) or Adam, the first man of Judeo-
  Christian myth (formed from dust and the breath of 
  God), but unlike other “first persons,” Omo Oba was 
  immortal. This first man eventually grew conceited and 
  proud, fashioned as he was in Nzame’s image, and finally 
  Nzame destroyed all life on Earth with lightning bolts 
  and fire in retribution for this hubris. Omo Oba, how-
  ever, being immortal, was unharmed, and was cast into 
  a fiery pit. He escapes periodically, however, to bedevil 
  and tempt humanity.
  Mages look at this pataki and see many parallels to their 
  own history. The destruction of the world might be a 
  reference to the destruction of the Celestial Ladder, while 
  the creation of Omo Oba might refer to the Awakening 
  or ascension via the Ladder of the Oracles and/or the 
  Exarchs. Given that Omo Oba is supposed to current 
  dwell in a place apart from the physical world but very 
  much apart from the orishas, some mages equate him to 
  the Abyss and the creatures that dwell there. The implica-
  tions of this inference are interesting, given that Omo 
  Oba is, according to the legend, a prototype of humanity 
  itself. If Omo Oba, now dwelling or even embodying the 
  Abyss itself, in a forerunner to the human race, might 
  that shed a bit of light on why Sleepers carry a shard of 
  the Abyss in the form of Quiescence? Might that be why 
  moments of supreme arrogance or miscalculation (that is, 
  powerful Paradoxes) run the risk of summoning a being 
  from the Abyss? Mages who practice Santería sometimes 
  refer to a Paradox as “calling Omo Oba,” whether or not 
  the Paradox actually results in a Manifestation. 
  Another creation myth, though, paints a slightly more 
  flattering picture of humanity. This pataki has Olofi 
  creating the first human (named Obatalá), and making 
  him mortal. When he desired companionship, though, 
  Olofi created the orishas out of smooth stones and infused 
  them with ashé. The orishas almost immediately went 
  to war (Sea against Sky, with the result that no dry land 
  could form), preventing any life from taking hold, until 
  Obatalá intervened and created lands enough for living 
  creatures and plants to flourish. The orishas, curious, 
  set out to explore this new world.
  Again, the parallels here to the mages of Atlantis are 
  obvious (at least to the mages themselves). Obatalá was 
  created as the ruler of the world, originally human, 
  but takes on the role of one of the orishas (and, in a 
  very real sense, architect of the physical world). Is he, 
  therefore, the first of the Oracles, from which all other 
  Awakened beings (i.e., orishas) spring? Or, if the orishas 
  are inhabitants of the Supernal Realms, as some mages 
  suggest (see below), perhaps Obatalá is some kind of 
  cosmic organizer, the being that pointed the Atlantean 
  kings toward the Supernal Realms and inspired them to 
  build the Watchtowers. The diaspora of mages after the 
  destruction of the Ladder and the fall of Atlantis might 
  also be likened to the orishas’ exploration of the world 
  that Obatalá made for them. 
  Cultural Sensitivity
  It bears noting that attempts to identify Olofi with Jesus 
  Christ, Olodumare with God and the orishas with the 
  saints do Santería something of an injustice. Santería owes 
  much more to Yoruba traditions than it does to Western 
  religion, and comparisons are usually made in service to 
  making the religion more palatable and understandable 
  to Christian outsiders. Santería does not actively search 
  for outside converts and the religion does not advocate 
  proselytizing, partially because it has a long history as 
  the religion of an oppressed people (and thus one that 
  needed to be kept hidden). This can make Santería seem 
  exotic, but to many of its practitioners, raised within the 
  faith, it is simply what they know.
  The same is true, then, for santeros who Awaken. A 
  practitioner of Santería who becomes a mage and joins 
  one of the orders of the Pentacle might look at the story of 
  the destruction of the Celestial Ladder and be reminded 
  of Nzame’s destruction of the world in response to Omo 
  Oba’s hubris, but not the other way around. This doesn’t 
  imply that the stories of Atlantis are less valid than the 
  cultural heritage of Yoruba (or vice versa, for that matter) 
  simply that people tend to see things through the lens 
  of their upbringing. 
  Santería Today
  Santería is very much alive today, though demograph-
  ics on the religion are hard to come by. This is due in 
  part because practitioners of the religion aren’t usually 
  as overt about it as religions that require proselytizing 
  and conversion, and in part because, being a syncretism, 
  Santería is often lumped under Catholicism in surveys 
  (likewise, many santeros also self-identify as Catholic to 
  
  69
  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  outsiders to avoid uncomfortable questions, though this 
  depends heavily on the surrounding culture). 
  The religion has a thriving population in Cuba, Brazil 
  (where it is called Candomblé), West Africa (where, of 
  course, many of the Cuban aspects of the religion do 
  not appear) and the United States. The first initiation 
  in the USA was performed in 1961, and since then the 
  religion has grown considerably, especially in areas with 
  high populations of Cuban immigrants, such as Miami. 
  Researching the religion is as simple as a trip to the library 
  or a few hours on the Internet…but this kind of research 
  only provides history and fact. Actually contacting the 
  orishas requires initiation, and sacrifice. 
  The Orishas
  The number of orishas varies depending on who 
  one asks. The orishas listed below are the most widely 
  recognized, but local orishas and familial guardians 
  are not uncommon. Names for such orishas might be 
  Spanish or Yoruba, or even English, depend on where 
  they first appeared. Orishas have different aspects and 
  even different names, especially for the broader and 
  more powerful deities such as Obatalá. A santero might 
  speak of a “path to Obatalá,” referring to, for instance, 
  Yemmu (the feminine aspect of the god) or Airanike (a 
  warrior on horseback). 
  Aganyú: A powerful but lesser-known orisha, Aganyú is 
  the ruler of volcanoes and molten lava and the protector 
  of travelers. Some legends claim he is Changó’s father 
  — he traded passage on his boat for the sexual favors of 
  Yemmu (a female aspect of Obatalá) and the result was 
  the young god. 
  Babalú-Ayé: This orisha is the lord of disease. Often 
  pictured as a lame old man leaning on a staff, Babalú-
  Ayé is capable of inflicting and curing any illness (and so 
  in modern times is sometimes seen as the patron spirit 
  of AIDS victims). It is said that he started a smallpox 
  epidemic long ago in the nation of Benin, and that the 
  survivors of the plague thanked him for his mercy in 
  letting them live. Thus, he is “the king who kills and is 
  thanked for it.” 
  Changó: Changó is the lord of thunder and lightning, 
  and is in many ways the most human of the major orishas. 
  He is the only orisha, for instance, to have died. One 
  legend says that, as the fourth king of Yoruba, he ordered 
  his two brothers to fight a duel (these “brothers” must 
  have been mortal, not orisha). One died, and overcome 
  with grief, Changó hanged himself but ascended to the 
  heavens rather than simply dying. Changó is the patron 
  of vengeance, justice and sexual prowess (he is said to 
  have had forty-four wives and kept them all satisfied).
  Elegguá: The messenger of the gods and the greatest of 
  the four guerreros, Elegguá is the youngest of the major ori-
  shas, but also considered the cleverest. He is the trickster 
  of the orishas, gifted by Olodumare in one legend with 
  the privilege to do whatever he wants, paying no heed 
  to restrictions. He is also the lord of the crossroads and 
  the guardian of pathways, and so some modern santeros 
  consider him the patron of the Internet. He is always 
  invoked first when a sacrifice is made to the orishas, and 
  part of the initiation into Santería involves fashioning 
  an image of Elegguá (see p. 71). 
  
  70
  Ibeyi: Ibeyi is the name for the twins, the children of 
  Changó and Oyá (according to some legends, though the 
  parentage of these and in fact most of the orishas varies 
  depending on which legends one hears). The twins are 
  eternal children, youthful, innocent and exuberant. Their 
  names and genders vary depending on which “path” one 
  takes to the orisha (see above).
  Inle: Intelligent, calculating and cautious, Inle is the 
  patron of physicians and scientists. He is also the lover of 
  Yemayá and the patron of fishermen. Inle has a strange 
  position in the hierarchy of the orishas; although he is 
  much-worshipped, he is also seen as a something of a 
  weakling. The story goes that during his time as Yemayá’s 
  lover, he learned the secrets of her underwater domain 
  and was not allowed to leave until she had cut out his 
  tongue to prevent him talking. He is usually pictured as 
  beautiful but androgynous.
  Obatalá: The most powerful of the orishas, Obatalá 
  was, in some legends, the first being that Olodumare 
  created after the fiasco with Omo Oba. He is the creator 
  (and thus ruler) of all human heads, and so the lord of 
  dreams and thoughts. Santeros pray to Obatalá for clar-
  ity of mind and for peace, as he is also renowned as a 
  mediator and peacemaker. He has many different aspects, 
  forms and names. Obatalá usually dresses in white, as 
  do his devotees. 
  Obba: The wife of Changó and the goddess of marriage, 
  fidelity and neglected wives, Obba is usually pictured 
  wearing a scarf or bandage on her head. This is because, 
  according to legend, she approached her husband’s mis-
  tress Oshún and asked how to arouse Changó’s passion 
  once again. Oshún tricked Obba, telling her to prepare 
  a stew and add her own ear to it. Obba did so, cutting 
  off her own ear for the stew, but when Changó saw this 
  he was repulsed and vowed never to engage in sex with 
  Obba again. In addition to forsaken wives, Obba is also 
  associated with cemeteries and the bones of the dead. 
  Ochosi: Ochosi the patron of lawyers, judges, jailors 
  and those who must appear before such people. He is also 
  the patron of hunters, but, according to some legends, 
  does not hunt himself anymore. The story goes that he 
  was asked by Obatalá to hunt a bird as an offering for 
  Olodumare. Flattered, Ochosi hunted down and shot a 
  beautiful bird and stored it in his hut. His mother visited 
  while he was out and took the bird, reasoning that her 
  skillful son could shoot another. Ochosi returned and 
  found the bird missing. Furious, he fired an arrow into 
  the air and ordered it to slay the thief. He realized his 
  mistake when he heard his mother scream, and vowed 
  never to hunt again. Ochosi is one of los guerreros, and usu-
  ally pictured as a strong man with a bow and arrow. 
  Oggún: Oggún, one of the four warriors, is the god of 
  metal and everything that relies upon it. He is therefore 
  the patron of the military, policemen and even surgeons 
  (since they work with scalpels and other metal objects). 
  He is a cruel god — traffic accidents and train derailments 
  are often laid at his feet, as are casualties of war and vir-
  tually any death in which metal is involved. Oggún lives 
  underground, and is variously considered to be the son of 
  Yemmu or the adopted son of Elegguá. He is the husband 
  of Oyá and the enemy of his brother, Changó. 
  Oko: Oko is the prudent and fair, but naïve, god of the 
  harvest. Celibate (or impotent, depending on the legend), 
  he serves as the arbiter of disputes between orishas and 
  between women. One legend says that Yemayá seduced 
  him for the secrets of a bountiful harvest. The sea-goddess 
  took his knowledge following their tryst and left, never 
  to return — Oko never suspected a thing. 
  Orúnla: The lord of divination and of reading the 
  future, Orúnla is unique in that he does not physically 
  possess his followers, but instead comes to them through 
  oracular methods such as casting cowrie shells. Only males 
  are accepted into his service as diviners (traditionally, at 
  least). He is physically frail, but renowned as an herbalist 
  and healer as well as a diviner. 
  Osain: Osain is the lord of the forest and is a master 
  hunter and herbalist. He is also pictured as deformed 
  — he has only one eye and one leg, and one of his ears is 
  huge and deaf (the other, however, is so sensitive it can 
  hear a leaf falling anywhere in the forest). There are many 
  patakis about how Osain became so deformed. Some say 
  that he was simply born (or grew, like a plant) that way. 
  But others point to a rivalry between Osain and Changó 
  over Oyá, in which the powerful thunder god burned 
  Osain’s forest and left him maimed. Osain also had a 
  rivalry with Orúnla over their respective skills — Osain 
  considered his skilled as an herbalist to be much more 
  important than Orúnla’s as a diviner. These two gods 
  did eventually make peace, however, and even prefer each 
  other’s company. Osain likes to smoke, and often asks 
  others for a light while possessing a worshipper.
  Oshún: Oshún is the goddess of love and relation-
  ships, and though married to Orúnla, she had trysts 
  with Changó, Ochosi and Oggún, among others. She 
  is the orisha to whom santeros pray when they wish to 
  untangle complicated relationships and love triangles, 
  and also when they wish to find love. She journeyed 
  from Africa to Cuba with her children during the slave 
  trade, and again to America during the Castro Revolu-
  tion of 1959. 
  Ósun: Ósun was once the messenger and watchman 
  of the gods, but fell asleep on the job. Obatalá stripped 
  
  71
  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  him of his duties and gave them to Elegguá (who had 
  informed Obatalá of Ósun’s failure), but let him keep his 
  duties as guardian of human heads. Ósun is one of the 
  four warriors, along with Elegguá, Oggún and Ochosi. 
  Oyá: The guardian of the cemetery (along with Obba), 
  Oyá is Changó’s favorite mistress. She is a warrior and 
  the ruler of the wind, and according to one legend she 
  saved Changó’s life when his enemies threatened to 
  overwhelm him. She shaved his hair and dressed him as 
  a woman, allowing him to escape his enemies and rest 
  until he was ready for battle once again. She is Yemayá’s 
  sister, but the two are enemies — one legend says that 
  Oyá once ruled the seas and was tricked into taking her 
  sister’s territory (the cemetery). 
  Yemayá: Yemayá is the goddess of the sea and the mother 
  of the universe. She has been identified as the wife or 
  lover of most of the major orishas, and some legends 
  even state that she birthed the sun and the planets after 
  union with Olodumare himself. 
  Initiation
  Initiation into Santería is actually a four-step process, 
  and not every santero undertakes all four. It is possible 
  to be an active believer in the religion and not progress 
  beyond the first ritual. The exact order of the first three 
  rituals varies from place to place, but the fourth, “mak-
  ing saint,” is always considered the most holy. During 
  the initiation, the iyawó often lives with and receives 
  instruction from a padrino or madrina.
  Receiving the Elekes
  The first step in becoming a santero is often to re-
  ceive the elekes. These ritual necklaces are fashioned 
  from beads, colored to represent the orisha ruling the 
  supplicant’s head (that is, the orisha to which the sup-
  plicant is uniquely suited; this orisha could be viewed as 
  his “guardian angel”). To determine which orisha this is, 
  the supplicant undergoes a divination ritual overseen by 
  a babalawo. This ritual involves casting cowrie shells (the 
  cowrie is a marine snail, and its beautiful shell has been 
  used as currency as well as a divination tool by some cul-
  tures), after which the babalawo interprets the results in 
  conjunction with five of his peers. Although the babalawo 
  determines which orishas will be represented, the madrina 
  actually makes the elekes. Afterwards, the iyawó receives 
  several elekes, including one colored for his “personal” 
  orisha. Again, the order of events can vary.
  Santeros wear their elekes for protection from evil 
  spirits and from bad luck. Whether or not they have 
  such effects depends on who makes them; Awakened 
  santeros are, of course, often capable of constructing 
  necklaces that actually do have protective powers. In 
  any case, santeros remove their elekes during sex, bath-
  ing and (for women) menstruation. If the thread of the 
  elekes breaks, it is considered a dire omen, perhaps even 
  a warning of impending death. 
  Making Elegguá
  During this ritual, the iyawó fashions a representation 
  of the orisha Elegguá to act as a protector of his home. 
  This requires another divination ritual to determine 
  what material Elegguá should be made from (note that 
  when the ritual is finished, the santero considers the 
  figure to be Elegguá, not just an image of him). Possible 
  magical properties of this representation are discussed 
  on p. 77. 
  Receiving the Warriors
  The iyawó receives los guerreros — “the warriors,” a 
  term referring to the orishas Elegguá, Oggún, Ochosi and 
  Ósun — by crafting or receiving iron tools (representing 
  Oggún), a small iron cauldron surmounted by a rooster 
  (Ochosi), and an iron bow and arrow figurine (Ósun). 
  Unlike the elekes, which serve to protect the santero 
  from outside influence, these objects and the orishas 
  they represent are supposed to actually attack enemies of 
  the santero. A santero in possession of such artifacts that 
  actually have magic bound into them is a very dangerous 
  individual indeed. 
  Making Saint
  Undertaking the first three rituals makes one half 
  the saint, but the final ritual — hacer santo (“to make 
  saint”) is a ritual death and rebirth. When the santero 
  has completed this ritual, he is no longer iyawó, but is 
  a priest of Santería. 
  The iyawó spends the week prior to the ritual with 
  his madrina or padrino, undergoing special spiritual 
  instruction and engaging in intense prayer and medita-
  tion. Before the ritual, the madrina or padrino shaves 
  the head of the iyawó and paints circles of blue, yellow, 
  red and white on it as an invitation for the orishas. The 
  iyawó undergoes another round of divination, this time to 
  determine his past and future. At this point, the diviner 
  might discover that the iyawó is destined to be a diviner 
  himself (this sometimes indicates that the iyawó is destined 
  to Awaken, often as an Acanthus, but with some affinity 
  for Fate magic in any case). If this is the case, the iyawó 
  will be taken under the wing of a powerful and respected 
  babalawo after the asiento is concluded. 
  The iyawó is given a name in the faith, not unlike a 
  Catholic Confirmation name. Some santero mages use 
  this name as their Shadow Name among the Awakened, 
  but most do not. The name in the faith is meant to be 
  exactly that — a name used with other santeros. Unless 
  the mage primarily interacts with other Awakened within 
  
  72
  the context of Santería, he will probably choose another 
  sobriquet for use in magical circles. 
  On the final day of initiation, called lerí ocha (“crowning 
  the orisha”), the iyawó is treated much like a child. He is 
  bathed, fed and dressed as a newborn might be, for he 
  has symbolically died and been reborn into the faith. It 
  is during this final ceremony that he is mounted by an 
  orisha — the spirit possesses him, makes demands and 
  exhibits behaviors appropriate to that particular deity, 
  and forms a spiritual contract with him that he will obey 
  for the rest of his life. This contract isn’t always stated 
  in terms that the santero can easily explain, but if the 
  character possesses the Destiny Merit, it is at this point 
  that he typically becomes aware of it (and his Bane). Fol-
  lowing the ceremony, the santero gathers up all of the 
  paraphernalia associated with his orisha and places it upon 
  his personal altar. His madrina or padrino keep a record 
  of spiritual information and practices for the santero, and 
  present this record to him after a year and seven days 
  have passed from the time he has made saint. 
  Reality
  As noted, the particulars of initiation can 
  vary. Sometimes the rituals all take place at 
  once, with the santero receiving the elekes 
  and the warriors in the days leading up to 
  making saint. Sometimes making Elegguá is 
  skipped altogether. Like any religion, Santería 
  evolves and changes depending on region 
  and the teachings of the elders in that region.
  It bears noting, too, that anyone can pur-
  chase the tools to perform these rituals and 
  learn enough about the rituals to perform 
  them through research. Whether the ritual 
  has the same spiritual power if performed 
  by someone who doesn’t have the proper 
  status in the faith is a matter of opinion, at 
  least when magic isn’t involved. Would the 
  orishas actually respond to a ritual per-
  formed by someone other than a confirmed 
  priest of Santería? If they did, how would 
  they treat the iyawó? Likewise, the ritual of 
  making saint isn’t free, and can cost sev-
  eral thousand dollars if the officiating priest 
  wishes to charge thusly. How might the 
  orishas respond to this? Some of them might 
  be offended, while others would simply 
  demand a fair “cut” of the profits. 
  Santería and Awakened Magic
  Magic in Santería is a matter of sacrifice and suppli-
  cation. All magic is actually performed by the orishas, 
  who reveal the secrets of the future through divination, 
  bestow favors in exchange for their favorite foods and 
  drinks, and punish those who offend them. Santeros 
  worship the orishas, but recognize that these gods are 
  not always kind or loving. One story, for instance, says 
  that a man possessed by Oshún began to flirt with the 
  other men present at the ritual (not at all uncommon 
  for the goddess of love). Another man swatted the pos-
  sessed individual on the buttocks and made a comment 
  about his sexuality. Oshún became angry and said that 
  both men — the man who had made the comment and 
  the man she was currently possessing — would be dead 
  in five days. And, indeed, five days later they both died 
  of intestinal problems. Decorum with the orishas is of 
  utmost importance. 
  A certain amount of fatalism pervades Santería. This is 
  because the orishas rule the world, and the orishas have 
  their own desires, idiosyncrasies and agendas. Sometimes 
  these agendas are understandable, and sometimes the ac-
  tions of the orishas seem completely random or cruel, but 
  santeros are taught not to judge the gods. Oggún might 
  kill a family in a car accident, but this is his prerogative 
  as the god of metal. Oshún might lead two soul mates 
  together. Orúnla might send a prescient dream to a man, 
  saving his life. All of these events are accepted within 
  the faith as the wisdom of the orishas. Not for nothing 
  is the religion commonly called the Regla de Ocha — the 
  rule of the orishas. 
  Magic, therefore, isn’t an act of will on the part of 
  the spellcaster, but an invitation to the orishas. How, 
  then, do Awakened mages within the faith reconcile 
  this attitude with their powers? It isn’t as big a leap as 
  an outsider might think. A santero mage simply regards 
  the act of spellcasting — the hand mudras, the chanting 
  in High Speech, the Imago itself — as the act that gets 
  a particular orisha’s attention. The orisha empowers 
  the mage to call down the laws of the Supernal Realms, 
  granting the mage a small portion of his authority for 
  a short time. Hubris, therefore, is especially dangerous 
  within Santería. Excessive spellcasting is seen as an at-
  tempt to usurp the position of the orishas, and mages 
  who rely too heavily on magic tend to be shunned by 
  others within the faith.
  Awakened santeros recognize the 10 Arcana, though 
  they don’t use the standard terms for them (unless they 
  have been schooled by a Pentacle mage, of course). In-
  stead, they are likely to refer to using a given Arcanum as 
  calling upon a given orisha. The Arcana do not exactly 
  
  73
  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  correspond to orishas, though, because any orisha might 
  empower a mage to use any Arcanum. The function of 
  the spell determines which orisha might aid the mage. 
  Healing spells, for instance, might come from Inle, 
  Osain, Orúnla or Obatalá. Spells over metal naturally 
  come from Oggún. Love spells belong to Oshún (or 
  sometimes Changó, if the spell is more about pure sex 
  than love). Spells designed to harm another might come 
  from any orisha, because all of them can be vengeful 
  (some more than others, of course). Since every santero 
  who has undergone the ritual of asiento is consecrated 
  to given orisha, a mage’s preferred spells naturally cor-
  respond to his orisha. That doesn’t mean that a mage 
  who follows Oko is incapable of casting violent spells, 
  just that it doesn’t come naturally to him and he runs 
  the risk of offending the orisha if he makes a habit of it 
  (this is discussed further anon). 
  Who are the orishas, then, to an Awakened santero? 
  Most such santeros don’t change their beliefs in the na-
  ture of the orishas post-Awakening; they are the deities 
  given control of the world and of human lives. Mages 
  who don’t mind subjecting their religion to a bit of scru-
  tiny (particularly those within the Pentacle) sometimes 
  see the orishas as the Oracles. Several legends speak of 
  the orishas beginning as “kings,” after all. Other mages 
  consider the orishas to be powerful Supernal denizens, 
  though most believe that every orisha is present in every 
  Supernal Realm. Some, though, are more powerful than 
  others — Oyá, naturally, is the ruler of Stygia, but Oggún 
  is also powerful there. 
  Mage Sight
  To Mage Sight, a Santería ritual performed by Sleep-
  ers is frenetic and immersing. The mage smells blood, 
  cooking food, spices and sweat. He hears drums (even if 
  they aren’t actually present; if they are, they grow louder 
  and more frantic) and the sounds of stamping feet as 
  the santeros dance. He feels the orishas watching him, 
  which can be comforting (Obatalá), frightening (Oggún) 
  or even arousing (Changó or Oshún). 
  If a mage scrutinizes the Resonance of a Awakened 
  santero, he is likely to see some representation of the 
  orisha(s) being invoke. Lightning and thunder shatter 
  the sky for Changó. The smell of sea salt and a feeling 
  of being lost at sea for Yemayá. If the ritual is extremely 
  potent, the scrutinizing mage might see the orisha’s 
  features superimposed over the santero’s. This is most 
  commonly the case during rituals in which an orisha 
  possesses a santero. In such instances, the santero’s 
  Resonance (and aura) disappear completely, leaving 
  only the orisha). 
  Supernal Symbology
  The orishas are deities, but not creators. They control 
  the world within their own spheres of influence, but 
  they are not omnipotent. They are simply greater than 
  humanity, and capable of putting events into motion on 
  Earth. They are, however, susceptible to bribes, taunts, and 
  flattery. In many ways, the orishas behave like people. 
  Is it any wonder, then, that some mages, even within 
  Santería, look at the orishas as an expression of the 
  power of Awakening? Here are beings with very human-
  like foibles wielding incredible power. If Wisdom is the 
  yardstick, the orishas, who murder, poison and infect ap-
  parently at whim, fall short indeed. While a mage might 
  worship an orisha reverently, the fact remains (whether 
  he wishes to admit it or not) that he cannot emulate the 
  orisha, because doing so would cost him his sanity, and 
  probably his freedom or his life. 
  The orishas, then, are beings to rise above. They have 
  phenomenal power, which they can and do grant to 
  mortals, but that power isn’t any reflection on them 
  morally. To a person raised to believe that an all-power-
  ful being is also all-good, and above human notions of 
  morality, this can be quite a strange notion. But again, 
  Santería evinces a certain amount of fatalism. A man 
  can’t change his camino, and he can’t change the nature 
  of the orishas. All he can do is try to work within the 
  system, to supplicate the gods and receive their favor, 
  and ultimately be ready for their judgment. 
  Foci
  Santería makes use of many different foci, but most 
  of them serve the same purpose: Sympathetic resonance 
  with the orishas, or getting the orishas attention. For 
  instance, every orisha has a particular color that they 
  prefer. Obatalá’s color is white, while Changó (and his 
  brother, Oggún) prefer red. A santero wishing to contact, 
  ask a favor of or especially be possessed by a given orisha 
  should wear the appropriate color. Also, the orishas have 
  foods, drinks and objects that they must have close to 
  hand. Osain requires a walking stick, even if the man or 
  woman he possesses is perfectly capable of walking. He 
  also likes to smoke, and so a cigar or pack of cigarettes 
  must be kept close at hand when the lord of the forest 
  comes calling, lest he be offended. The orishas also have 
  favorite plants and foods that can aid in rituals involving 
  them — Oggún famously prefers rum, Inle likes oranges 
  and yams, and Oshún is notorious for smearing honey 
  across the lips of those she wishes to seduce.
  Animal sacrifice is an important aspect of Santería, so 
  much so that in the United States, the right of santeros to 
  ritually sacrifice animals has been taken to court (normally by 
  
  74
  people who, on the surface, express concern for the well-be-
  ing of the animals, though fear of the religion itself probably 
  plays a greater role). The right of santeros to perform their 
  sacrifices has always been upheld. It bears noting that the 
  animals are not tortured or killed any less humanely than 
  animals used for food — and indeed, sacrificial animals 
  are cooked and consumed during the ritual (normally; 
  in certain propitiatory rites to appease angry orishas, the 
  animal’s flesh isn’t consumed). But the meal is an offering, 
  given up to the appropriate orishas, and every orisha has 
  a particular type of animal it likes to eat. Oshún prefers 
  castrated goat. Elegguá likes goat and rooster. Oggún also 
  likes roosters (and the warriors do prefer to eat together), 
  but also enjoys young bulls and black dogs. 
  Santería also makes heavy use of dance, and ritual 
  drums are commonly used as foci. Again, the style of 
  the dance used at drumming ceremonies (called bem-
  bes) depends on the orisha in question. Babalú-Ayé has 
  lumbering dances befitting the god of disease. Elegguá, 
  the trickster god, enjoys capering, silly-looking dances. 
  It is during a bembe that an orisha is often enticed to 
  possess a santero, and so getting the dance right (the 
  overall tone, if not the specific steps) is crucial. But then, 
  some santeros find that insulting the orisha they wish to 
  entice can work to lure the spirits down. Calling mighty 
  Changó a weakling might get his attention — and then 
  the santero can only hope that he is in a forgiving mood 
  once he sees the feast laid out for him. 
  Ritual Sacrifice and Wisdom
  Santeros make frequent use of animal sac-
  rifice in their rites, and it’s not unreasonable 
  to assume that a mage of the faith would 
  use the blood sacrifice to obtain Mana in the 
  form of ashé. Does that mage run the risk of 
  losing Wisdom, even given what his culture 
  teaches about ritual sacrifice?
  Yes. 
  What the mage’s culture teaches isn’t 
  relevant. The fact is that he is still bleed-
  ing a living creature to death for magical 
  energy, and that is an act of hubris. Now, if 
  the mage did not accept the ashé himself, 
  but released it into the world to feed the 
  orishas, therefore making the offering a true 
  sacrifice, does the character still check for 
  degeneration? It’s not an act of hubris, but it 
  might still be construed as an act of cruelty, 
  particularly if the animal is conscious when 
  its throat is slit. It certainly shouldn’t be as 
  severe a sin as blood sacrifice usually is; 
  perhaps Wisdom 6. 
  
  75
  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  Finally, as mentioned, Santería makes use of cowrie 
  shells for divination. These are normally kept in a set of 
  18, though only 16 are thrown during a reading (two are 
  set aside to “stand guard”) over the others. The patterns 
  in which they fall, and the number that land “mouth 
  up,” with the dentated openings facing the reader, deter-
  mine the message that the diviner receives. The spirits 
  of the dead, as well as the orishas, send these messages 
  to the diviner
  Santeros
  Once a santero’s patron orisha has been identified, it 
  isn’t uncommon for others in the faith to refer to him 
  by the orisha’s name. One might be called “an Elegguá,” 
  for instance, in the same way that someone might be 
  referred to by his Western astrological sign. The orisha 
  that claims a santero also imparts certain personality 
  traits (again, as a zodiac sign supposedly does). For the 
  most part, these resonate with the orisha in question. 
  An Elegguá is clever and vigilant, while a Changó is 
  volatile and lusty.
  For mages, the patron orisha doesn’t determine Path, 
  but it often means more to them than Path does. The 
  orisha who guards a mage’s ori is seen as the way in 
  which he works magic, and thus is the way in which 
  Path is expressed. A Moros who follows Oggún is likely 
  to work more with Matter than with Death, while a 
  Necromancer watched over by Oyá is probably the sort 
  who raises zombies and commands ghosts. 
  Below is a list of the orishas and the Paths with which 
  they most easily resonate. These aren’t hard and fast 
  rules; it’s possible for an Obrimos to follow Inle or an 
  Acanthus to enjoy Osain’s protection. Remember that 
  the function of the magic a spellcaster uses is what de-
  termines which orisha is entreated, so the orisha that 
  watches over a mage probably guides what Arcana and 
  spells he learns. 
  Aganyú: Obrimos 
  Babalú-Ayé: Thyrsus, Moros, Obrimos 
  Changó: Obrimos, Acanthus
  Elegguá: Acanthus, Mastigos 
  Ibeyi: Acanthus
  Inle: Mastigos
  Obatalá: Any
  Obba: Acanthus, Moros 
  Ochosi: Obrimos, Mastigos 
  Oggún: Moros, Mastigos 
  Oko: Acanthus, Thyrsus 
  Orúnla: Acanthus, Mastigos 
  Osain: Thyrsus
  Oshún: Acanthus, Mastigos
  Ósun: Mastigos
  Oyá: Mastigos, Moros 
  Yemayá: Any
  As for order, if a santero joins one of the Atlantean 
  orders it is because he agrees with the tactics that the local 
  representatives of the order use and because he feels his 
  orisha encourages it. The Adamantine Arrow probably 
  serves as the best home for santeros, especially those 
  who claim one of los guerreros as their patron orisha, but 
  a practitioner of Santería might join any of the orders 
  in the right circumstances. 
  Rotes
  Rotes in Santería spring from a variety of times, places 
  and cultures. Some stem from West Africa and draw on 
  practices that are centuries old, while others were cre-
  ated in Cuba either by slaves or in the years since slavery 
  ended. Still others originated in America since 1961, when 
  the first initiation into Santería occurred. In any event, 
  these rotes are only taught to mages who have been made 
  santo, and usually only to mages whose guardian angel 
  approves of the rote in question. For instance, while an 
  Oggún might learn Tribute of Iron, a follower of gentle 
  Oko never would. 
  Elegguá’s Notice (Fate •••) 
  A santero who is menaced or even annoyed by a rival 
  can try and attract the notice of Elegguá, the trickster 
  god, onto the enemy. Elegguá, once his notice is drawn, 
  watches over the mage, making sure if his rival menaces 
  him directly, the rival suffers for it. 
  Practice: Fraying
  Action: Extended and contested; target rolls Resolve 
  + Composure reflexively
  Duration: Prolonged
  Aspect: Covert
  Cost: None
  Dice Pool: Manipulation + Persuasion + Fate
  If the spell is successful, the rival suffers the following 
  effects:
  • If the rival has the Destiny Merit, he cannot make 
  use of its benefits during the scene in which he menaces 
  the mage. The Storyteller can, however, apply the effects 
  of his Bane (and probably should).
  • A number of the rival’s rolls equal to the mage’s 
  Fate rating are reduced to chance dice during the scene. 
  Dramatic failures involve some spectacularly bad run 
  of luck.
  
  76
  While normally this spell has a duration of Prolonged 
  (one scene), most santeros use the Conditional Trigger 
  effect (see p. 151 of Mage: The Awakening), provided 
  they know Time 2.
  To cast this spell, the mage must have fashioned a 
  representation of Elegguá under the guidance of another 
  santero (usually, this is done during the initiation rites 
  anyway). The mage writes the rival’s name on a piece of 
  paper and places it underneath Elegguá’s head, and then 
  spends hours in meditation, dance and vocal entreaty 
  to the orisha. 
  Invitation to the Orishas (Spirit ••) 
  In one of the most basic spells of Santería, an Awakened 
  santero can call down one of the orishas and allow the 
  deity to possess him. The orisha can then use its powers 
  through the mage’s body, dispense godly wisdom…or, 
  unfortunately, wreak punishment on anyone who hap-
  pens to offend it. Although this rite is considered a sacred 
  act as well as a useful practice, santeros do understand 
  that they risk their lives by trucking with the orishas. 
  But, characteristically, they realize that if they should 
  die while being ridden by an orisha, they have become 
  a great ebbó. Some traditions even hold that if someone 
  dies while being ridden by an orisha, that person can 
  become an orisha. 
  Practice: Ruling
  Action: Extended (target number = mage’s own Stamina 
  + Resolve; see below)
  Duration: Prolonged (one scene)
  Aspect: Covert
  Cost: None
  Dice Pool: Presence + Athletics + Spirit
  The mage dances a bembe, and he must be accompanied 
  by ritual drums. Often, other santeros dance with him, and 
  this ritual usually follows an ebbó. The mage continues 
  to dance until his mind and body are overwhelmed by 
  the exertion of the bembe and the drums, and the orisha 
  enters him. In game terms, the player must accumulate 
  a number of successes equal to the mage’s Stamina + 
  Resolve, and if the character possesses the Iron Stamina 
  Merit, those dots are also added to the target number of 
  successes. Each roll equates one minute of dancing, and 
  the player can only make a number of rolls equal to the 
  mage’s Stamina + Athletics (after which the mage is too 
  exhausted to dance properly). 
  Once the player has accumulated the proper number 
  of successes, the orisha possesses the mage. At this point, 
  the mage begins to behave like the orisha in question. 
  Osain limps and leans on a walking stick. Changó is lusty 
  and belligerent, while Oshún is flirtatious. The orishas 
  demand their tribute — many of them try to take bites 
  of the raw flesh of the ritual sacrifice, and all must have 
  their special foods and items (see Foci), or else they depart 
  and the spell ends. 
  While the mage is being possessed, the orisha speaks 
  and acts through him. The other santeros present can ask 
  the orisha for advice or intercession. If any are Awakened, 
  they can ask the orisha for magical understanding (this 
  can be used to justify an increase in Gnosis or Arcana 
  ratings), even learning rotes from the orisha. Occasion-
  ally, a mage channels one of the warlike orishas (Changó, 
  Oggún, Elegguá, Ochosi, or Oyá) to help him fight in 
  an upcoming battle. 
  The game effects of this possession vary depending 
  on the Storyteller’s decision of what the orishas are and 
  what role they fulfill in the chronicle. In general, this 
  spell allows an effect similar to Coaxing the Spirits (Spirit 
  1), but with farther-reaching effects. The mage receives 
  a number of bonus dice to a given task based on how 
  satisfied the orisha is with the sacrifice, the items offered 
  to it, and the bembe the mage performed (the Storyteller 
  should take all of this into consideration and then make 
  a roll for the player, probably Manipulation + Socialize, 
  and use the successes for the bonus dice). These dice can 
  be used on any roll that the task involves, but the player 
  does not know how many he has to work with (just as 
  the mage doesn’t know how far the orisha’s influence 
  will carry him). At some point, the capricious orisha’s 
  attention fades, and the mage is on his own again.
  Tribute of Iron (Prime ••• + Death •) 
  Anyone who dies by metal, whether shot, crushed by a 
  car or stabbed with a knife, belongs to Oggún. Horrible 
  accidents and casualties of war are often considered the 
  god of metal taking his tribute in blood from the world 
  of men. One story, though, has it that a santero enslaved 
  in Cuba rose up with a spade and slew several of his 
  keepers in a burst of rage. He saw his masters’ relatives 
  coming to kill him, and begged Oggún for help. The 
  story says that Oggún answered him, telling him to taste 
  the blood of his victims. The slave did so, and he found 
  his strength replenished. He killed many of the slavers 
  before they finally brought him low, and as the bullets 
  pierced his heart, he uttered his thanks to Oggún and 
  promised his blood and soul to the orisha.
  Practice: Weaving
  Action: Instant 
  Duration: Lasting
  Aspect: Covert
  Cost: None
  Dice Pool: Strength + Occult + Prime
  
  77
  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  Modern santeros are loath to 
  use this spell often, because it 
  requires another human being 
  to die by metal (though it does 
  not require the caster to kill the 
  victim himself). The santero 
  must taste the blood of the dead 
  or dying. If the spell is successful, 
  the mage can gain ashé (Mana) 
  as if he had performed a blood 
  sacrifice (see p. 78 of Mage: The 
  Awakening). Casting this spell 
  by itself doesn’t cause degenera-
  tion, though killing someone to 
  facilitate it certainly does.
  The casting mage must carry 
  or wear a piece of metal, but no 
  Oggún would ever be without 
  such a focus anyway. Many mages 
  using this spell dip a blade in the 
  victim’s blood and lick it off while 
  casting, but this isn’t necessary.
  Magic Items 
  Santería is a religion that grew across continents and 
  centuries. It doesn’t have a Holy Grail or an Excalibur, 
  but it does have many charms and items that might be 
  useful and powerful on a day-to-day basis. Mages within 
  the faith, however, look at the legends of the orishas and 
  wonder how much is pure fiction and how much has a 
  historical basis, especially with antecedent events before 
  the fall of Atlantis. Sometimes, research turns up refer-
  ences to something like Ochosi’s Arrow, below, which is 
  assuredly a powerful and unique item…if it exists. 
  Image of Elegguá
  Most santeros create a representation of the trickster 
  god Elegguá as part of their initiation. The materials 
  out of which this statue is created, revealed during a 
  divination for the iyawó, say much about him. In the 
  case of a mage (or a mage-to-be), it’s not unknown for 
  the materials traditionally associated with a Path to 
  appear as the components for that mage’s Elegguá. A 
  Mastigos might fashion his Elegguá out of brass, while 
  a Thyrsus carves hers from stone. In any case, once it is 
  constructed, that statue is Elegguá, at least as far as the 
  santero is concerned.
  The point of the statue is protection, both from intrud-
  ers in the home and enemies outside. Some mages use 
  this statue as part of casting the Elegguá’s Notice spell 
  (see p. 75). Others use the Prime Arcanum to imbue the 
  statue with certain protective spells. It’s not unknown, for 
  instance, for a mage to use Prime 3 and another Arcanum 
  of his choice to infuse the statue with an armor spell. If 
  someone attacks him in his home, he has only to call out 
  to Elegguá for assistance and the armor spell suddenly 
  takes hold (he must be in the same room as the statue, 
  of course, or else weave Space 2 into the spell). 
  Ochosi’s Arrow
  The tragic legend of the hunter god Ochosi is related 
  earlier in this chapter (p. 70). Some mages look at this 
  story with keen interest, for they believe that the story 
  has a literal antecedent in Atlantis. The story, taken from 
  fragments found in a temple discovered in modern-day 
  Benin, tell of a man renowned as a great hunter who ac-
  cidentally killed his mother (translation uncertain; some 
  Mysterium linguists argue that the word might actually 
  translate as “wife,” but given the incestuous natures of the 
  Yoruba pantheon it might not matter) while attempting 
  to slay a thief. The “arrow” that he used to do this (which 
  might not have been a literal arrow, but possibly an African 
  throwing blade) was never retrieved, because the hunter 
  decreed that it would bring tragedy to whoever wielded it 
  with anything less than perfect faith in his abilities. 
  Since discovering the fragment, the Mysterium has 
  searched for the “arrow” itself, not necessarily with the 
  intent of letting anyone use it as a weapon (because whose 
  
  78
  confidence doesn’t waver occasionally?), but with the in-
  tent to study it and gain some insight in how events before 
  the Celestial Ladder filtered into Sleeper legend. 
  Below are three possibilities for how Ochosi’s Arrow 
  might function as magical item:
  • Enhanced Item: The “arrow,” in whatever form it 
  actually takes, is simply a superlative example of a weapon 
  of its type. Increase its Durability by 5 and add five dice 
  any attempt to use it. Any failure, however, is treated as 
  a dramatic failure when using Ochosi’s Arrow. 
  • Imbued Item: Ochosi’s Arrow was Imbued with 
  several spells somewhere along the way. In particular, 
  using it allows the wielder to ignore up to five dice of 
  penalties due to environmental conditions (darkness, 
  smoke, cover, etc.) from the Space “Spatial Map” spell; 
  it inflicts lethal damage to spirits and ghosts per the 
  Death “Gossamer Touch”/“Touch of the Grave” spells, 
  and the wielder adds 5 to his initiative if he has the 
  weapon drawn and ready (a Ruling Time spell). A failed 
  roll when using the weapon, however, invokes a Havoc 
  Paradox — the weapon veers off and strikes a different 
  target, possibly the wielder.
  • Artifact: The Arrow is a Supernal artifact, probably 
  crafted in either the luminous aeries of the Aether or 
  the mindbending hell of Pandemonium. In either case, 
  it seeks whatever target it is instructed to seek, rounding 
  corners and chasing the target until it strikes. It inflicts 
  aggravated damage and inflicts 5 damage dice instead of 
  whatever damage a weapon of its type would normally 
  cause. It ignores non-magical armor entirely. Every time 
  the weapon is used, the wielder’s player must spend a 
  point of Willpower and roll Resolve + Composure. If 
  this roll fails or if the wielder uses the weapon and does 
  not spend the Willpower (either because he chooses 
  not to or because he has run out), Ochosi looks unfa-
  vorably upon this cretin making the same mistake he 
  did. The Arrow itself falls to the ground and will not 
  budge for its former wielder (though a new master may 
  now claim it). The former wielder now suffers from a 
  Bane as presented in the Destiny Merit (Mage, p. 81), 
  save that he doesn’t gain the benefit of Destiny. The 
  Bane is “agents of justice” and is the equivalent of a 
  5-dot Destiny Merit. That is, whenever the character 
  encounters an agent of justice, the Storyteller has 10 dice 
  in penalties to apply. This curse lasts until the character 
  can somehow appease Ochosi. 
  Storytelling Hints 
  Santería is a living tradition, and therein lies one of the 
  biggest advantages for the Storyteller. A trip to the library 
  can provide detailed information on this religion, how it 
  views magic and destiny, its heritage, its history and even 
  recordings of its music. Since Santería is “real” (insofar, 
  as with any religion, as people practice and believe in it) 
  including it in a Mage chronicle can be an interesting 
  way to show that Awakened magic does filter into the 
  non-hermetic traditions of the world, and it functions 
  just as well in them as in the magic of the Pentacle. 
  Santería Story Hooks
  • War of the Gods: The spirit world in the characters’ home city goes haywire. The various spirit 
  courts seem to be reinventing themselves, changing to accommodate a new order. The spirits are 
  now aligned based on which orisha they serve. The characters will need to learn about Santería 
  fast if they stand any chance of altering or even comprehending this occurrence. But is there any-
  one in town who is willing to teach them?
  • Sanctuary: A young mage of the Mysterium — also a santero — discovers an artifact in his 
  order’s collection that he believes belongs to his faith. He steals it and flees back to his home town 
  of Miami, where Santería runs deep and strong in the Cuban community. The Mysterium asks the 
  characters’ cabal to retrieve it, but it’s guarded by an entire neighborhood now, some of whom are 
  Awakened and powerful. And what’s so important about the artifact, anyway? 
  • Sacrifice: This story requires that one of the characters or one of their allies has a Familiar. 
  A powerful babalawo decides that the Familiar would make the perfect sacrifice for his patron 
  orisha. He isn’t swayed by talk of the Familiar being a sentient being, because a cowrie reading 
  revealed to him that the Familiar is destined to give its life for the ebbó. What’s so important that 
  the santero is willing to invest his life and energy into making this sacrifice? Does he wish to bring 
  torture and harm to an enemy? Save the life of a friend or relative in another country? Bring his 
  love back from the dead? It all depends on which orisha he’s trying to bribe. 
  
  79
  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  Sample Character
  Papa Congri
  Quote: “Tell Papa where it hurts.”
  Background: Born in Cuba in 1946, Fernando Ortiz 
  grew up with the orishas. His father died when he was 
  very young, and his mother refused to remarry, dedicating 
  herself to her work as a madrina. Over the years, Fernando 
  saw many santeros and santeras receive the orishas. His 
  mother, though not Awakened, was a skilled herbalist, 
  healer and cook, and the feasts that she prepared for the 
  holidays were legendary. 
  In 1958, Fernando’s mother received a dream from 
  Orúnla. It told of coming war, strife and persecution. 
  She didn’t tell her son of her dream, but arranged for 
  the young man to travel to America to live with her late 
  husband’s brother. The next year, the Castro Revolution 
  began, and Fernando watched from another country as 
  the land of his birth changed. He begged the orishas for 
  help, asking Oggún to spare his mother, asking Orúnla 
  for advice and asking Obatalá to intervene and bring his 
  mother to him. But when Fernando’s uncle, a powerful 
  babalawo in his own right, cast the shells to determine 
  Fernando’s personal orisha, it was Osain the herbalist 
  who the shells identified. 
  Fernando was unable to understand this turn of events 
  at first. Then he learned that his mother had been killed 
  in Cuba. He fell into a deep depression and took a huge 
  dose of an herbal sedative, seeking to die and end his 
  pain. He slipped into a coma and found himself in a deep, 
  dark forest, walking behind an old man with one leg. The 
  orisha Osain talked to him, and told him that everyone 
  had their pain to bear. Osain’s pain was his missing limbs, 
  while Fernando’s was his grief as his mother’s death. In 
  that moment, Fernando was humbled, because he knew 
  that his pain would subside in time, but Osain’s never 
  would. He pledged himself to the orisha of the forest, 
  and returned to his body, Awakened. 
  Over the next several decades, Fernando became a 
  respected healer and priest of Santería. He encountered 
  mages of the Pentacle and developed a loose understand-
  ing of the orders, but consistently refused offers to join 
  them — until the local Adamantine Arrows asked him 
  to join not as a student or a soldier, but as a teacher and 
  consultant. Within the space of a year, the Arrow had 
  several santero members, and these mages made sure 
  that no harm or harassment comes to “Papa Congri” 
  (the Shadow Name comes from a Cuban dish called 
  “congri,” made of black beans and rice) or the Sleeper 
  adherents of the faith. 
  Santería can seem exotic, but as mentioned before, it’s 
  only exotic to people who haven’t grown up with it. It 
  would be an interesting story that required the characters 
  to become initiated in order to fulfill some goal, even 
  if they only received a cowrie reading and perhaps the 
  elekes. As the characters become immersed in this tradi-
  tion, they find people who live their lives by their own 
  caminos, subservient to the will of the orishas yet quite 
  willing to bribe, trick and cajole their gods into service. 
  This relationship with otherworldly beings might be 
  something quite different from what a typical Western 
  mage is used to, and might be quite eye-opening. 
  Alternative Magic 
  (Storyteller’s Options)
  • Orisha Chooses the Path: When a person Awakens, 
  he usually travels to a Supernal Realm and forges a sym-
  pathetic connection to the Watchtower there, allowing 
  him to draw down the laws of that Realm into the Fallen 
  World, and thus perform magic. But to the santero, there’s 
  an extra step: The orishas must allow the spell to occur. In 
  that sense, all the connection to a Watchtower does is give 
  a mage a direct line to an orisha, and it is the orisha who 
  actually casts the spell. To simulate this in Mage, consider 
  replacing the notion of “Path” with “Orisha.” An Oggún, 
  for instance, might find it easier to use the Arcana of Matter 
  and Forces, while an Obba might use Life and Mind. The 
  non-Ruling Arcana require a “bribe” of ashé (Mana) for the 
  orisha, or, instead of the Mana expenditure, might require 
  an additional turn to cast as the mage dances or otherwise 
  pleads with the orisha. Alternately, a mage might garner 
  a bonus of two extra dice if he uses foci that are appropri-
  ate to the orisha being called upon — possibly more if he 
  performs a ritual sacrifice. It might be more in keeping 
  with the beliefs of Santería, though, to apply a penalty if 
  the mage doesn’t use the appropriate foci. 
  • Divination Works: This option presumes the exis-
  tence and near-omniscience of the orishas and the egun. 
  When a babalawo performs a divination, regardless of 
  whether he is Awakened or has the requisite Arcana to 
  perform such spells if he is, have the player roll Intelli-
  gence + Occult. This roll functions as the Dream Merit, 
  except that the hints are usually brief flashes rather than 
  involved visions. An alternative would be to make this 
  action extended, allowing the babalawo to clarify the 
  question by asking the person for whom he is performing 
  the divination for more information. The target number 
  of successes should be set by the Storyteller and reflect 
  the complexity of the matter and how helpful the orishas 
  or egun are willing to be.
  
  80
  Description: Papa Congri is a handsome man in his 
  late 50s. He has dark skin and speckled gray hair, and is 
  missing most of his teeth. He has a hearty laugh and a 
  warm demeanor, even with people he dislikes. He carries 
  a walking stick, though he does not need it to walk — it 
  is a symbol of his devotion to Osain. He usually wears 
  green and brown, and is never without his elekes. 
  Storytelling Hints: Papa Congri regrets never having 
  children of his own, and regards every iyawó for whom he 
  acts as padrino as an adopted child. He has no particular 
  regard for the Atlantean orders other than the Arrow. It 
  bears noting, though, that this is mostly because of the 
  adherents to Santería who belong to the order in his 
  area, rather than the order itself — Arrows from another 
  community might well spoil his perceptions, even induce 
  him to leave the order. Likewise, members of another 
  order who showed interest or knowledge of Santería 
  would certainly bolster his opinion of the Pentacle. Papa 
  Congri is distrustful of Americans, but his door is open 
  to santeros of any nationality. 
  Dedicated Magical Tool: Walking stick
  Real Name: Fernando Ortiz
  Path: Thyrsus
  Order: Adamantine Arrow
  Mental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 3, Resolve 3
  Physical Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 2, 
  Stamina 2
  Social Attributes: Presence 4, Manipulation 2, 
  Composure 4
  Mental Skills: Academics 2, Crafts (Clay) 3, In-
  vestigation 2, Occult (Santería) 4
  Physical Skills: Stealth 1, Survival 1, Weaponry 
  (Knife) 2
  Social Skills: Animal Ken (Birds) 1, Empathy 3, 
  Expression 3, Persuasion 2, Socialize 3, Streetwise 2, 
  Subterfuge 2
  Merits: Allies (Adamantine Arrow) 3, Destiny (Bane: 
  Ochosi’s Arrow) 3, Magical Tradition (Santería), 
  Resources 1, Status (Santería Priest) 2 
  Willpower: 7
  Wisdom: 8
  Virtue: Prudence
  Vice: Gluttony
  Initiative: 6
  Defense: 2
  Speed: 9
  Health: 7
  Gnosis: 4
  Arcana: Fate 3, Life 4, Mind 1, Spirit 5
  Rotes: Fate — Winds of Chance (•), The Evil Eye (••), 
  Elegguá’s Notice (•••); Life — Healer’s Trance (•), 
  Heal Flora and Fauna (••), Healing Heart (•••), 
  Enfeeblement (••••); Spirit — Exorcist’s Eye (•), 
  Lesser Spirit Summons (••), Exorcism (•••), Spirit 
  Possession (••••)
  Mana/per turn: 13/4
  Armor: 5 (“Organic Resilience,” Life ••)
  
  81
  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  THE TEMPLAR 
  TREASURE
  My soul is protected by the armor of faith, just as my body is protected by the armor of 
  steel. I am thus doubly armed, and I fear neither demons nor men.
  — Adapted Templar catechism of St. Bernard of Clairvaux
  Introduction
  The Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of 
  Solomon, as the Templars are formally known, are one of 
  the most storied knightly monastic orders to arise from the 
  Middle Ages. At one time in European history, the workings 
  of the Templars affected the everyday life of every European 
  citizen, so integral was the order to finance and religious 
  function. Shrouded in mystery, conspiracy, and allegations of 
  foul witchery, the Templars are the stuff of modern popular 
  fascination, a medieval bogeyman illustrating the fear of fa-
  naticism or the ultimate failing of organized religion as a tool 
  for oppression. Movies feature skulking Templars, whacked-
  out pseudo-occultists use Templar trappings for their own 
  crackpot theories, and conspiracy authors pin all manner of 
  diabolical machinations to the dogma of the order.
  The truth of the Templars is bitter and far subtler, 
  however. The order never truly recovered from its 
  disbandment at the hands of political enemies. The 
  centuries intervening between the order’s dissolution 
  and its modern incarnation as a scattered relic clinging 
  to solvency have made its story a sad one of nadir.
  Making the story even more sorrowful is the fact that 
  the Templars aren’t the cackling villains of popular fic-
  tion or French Royalist propaganda, rubbing their hands 
  and plotting heresy or debasement. The Templars were a 
  righteous chapter of warrior-monks who truly discovered 
  the light of God, but in striving for the divine, fell prey 
  to the treacheries of desirous temporal envy.
  History
  The history of the Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and 
  of the Temple of Solomon begins in 1128 with the Cis-
  tercian Bernard of Clairvaux, who authored the rule of 
  the order. In truth, the order came into being some 10 
  years prior, formed by Hugh de Payens with the intention 
  of protecting Christian pilgrims in the Holy Land. King 
  Baldwin II of Jerusalem approved this initial charter, and 
  the support of Bernard of Clairvaux (a nephew of one 
  of the original nine Knights Templar) recognized and 
  confirmed the order at the 1128 Council of Troyes.
  With their approval by the Church, the Templars 
  enjoyed immediate success, most often in the form of 
  noble donations. The knights made their requests for 
  donations in the name of their mission of protection: 
  they asked for money, land, even noble sons who would 
  become knights in the interests of St. Bernard’s Rule. As 
  a monastic order, the knights took a vow of poverty, and 
  thus any of their own noble possessions (such as land, 
  chattel, and cash) became assets of the order itself.
  Although they originally served as warriors in the Holy 
  Land, contributing to many battles during the Crusades 
  and the Reconquista, the Templars made a far more sig-
  nificant contribution to medieval culture in the form 
  of banking. Since their members swore oaths of poverty 
  and donated their assets to the order, the Templars had 
  a great deal of money readily on hand at their chapter 
  houses, which they began loaning to pilgrims in 1135. 
  Pilgrims were also able to leave their own valuables in 
  the possession of the Templars, for safekeeping during 
  the period of pilgrimage.
  As record of these valuable deposits, the Templars is-
  sued letters of credit. These letters assured other Templars 
  of the pilgrim’s wealth and could be used to withdraw 
  funds from any chapter house along the way to the Holy 
  Land and, eventually, across Europe. The temple knights 
  both certified and encrypted these letters of credit, so 
  they couldn’t be easily forged.
  As a result of noble contributions and interest made on 
  loans to pilgrims, the Templars soon found themselves 
  in control of vast sums of money. The letter of credit 
  represented a new form of banking, and the suspicious 
  ease with which the Templars avoided condemnation for 
  usury made the order an extremely profitable venture.
  The fall of the Knights Templar came as a result of 
  filthy lucre. Most historians believe that, jealous of the 
  Templars’ moneys and in need of financing for his own 
  wars, the French King Philip IV convinced his childhood 
  friend and then-Pope Clement V to declare the Templars 
  heretics. King Philip then arrested hundred of French 
  Templars, seized the order’s assets, and disbanded them. 
  
  82
  Of significant note is the fact that Philip was already greatly 
  indebted to the Templars, and grew incensed when the 
  order refused to loan him additional money. Additionally, 
  Clement’s actions against the order occurred during the 
  Babylonian Captivity, when a succession of French Popes 
  resided in France, not Rome. In 1312, Pope Clement 
  issued the edict formally terminating the order’s rule. 
  The Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple 
  of Solomon, officially at least, were no more.
  The story becomes even darker than a simple tale 
  of aristocratic greed, however. Under the investigation 
  begun by Pope Clement — which almost certainly con-
  sisted of physical torture — many Templars admitted to 
  heresy. These heresies included acts of homosexuality, 
  idol-worship, denials of the sacraments, defilement of 
  the cross, consorting with the Adversary, and veneration 
  of a sublime entity known as Baphomet.
  At the point of their dissolution, the Knights Tem-
  plar scattered into anonymity in hopes of safety. Their 
  treatment at the hands of the French king was by far 
  the most severe of all European countries, especially 
  in comparison to investigations and trials in England, 
  where many knights of the order were arrested and tried 
  but ultimately found innocent. Elsewhere, the Knights 
  Templar either found their order absorbed into other 
  orders or just vanished. Estimated numbers of Templars 
  across Europe before Philip and Clement’s collusion 
  were in the tens of thousands, with perhaps 3,000 in 
  France alone. The number arrested in France was but a 
  fraction of this greater figure. Where they went remains 
  a mystery.
  What is certain, however, is that Philip IV and Clem-
  ent V made a brutal example of the Templars who were 
  indeed arrested and “brought to justice” in the king’s 
  fashion. After Grand Master Jacques de Molay realized 
  the futility of the situation, he and Geoffrey de Charney 
  recanted their torture-induced confessions. For this, 
  Philip IV had them both burned at the stake.
  Philosophy: Baphomet
  Banking and warcraft aside, the true interest of the Tem-
  plars to both mages and mortal occultists is in the order’s 
  secret rituals and inexplicable devotion to Baphomet. 
  Historians generally agree that Clement’s antagonism of 
  
  83
  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  the order occurred largely at the behest of the extremely 
  powerful Philip IV, and that most of the heresy charged 
  were inflated, if at all extant. The Church itself considers 
  the treatment of the order inappropriate, and Clement 
  managed to prosecute the order’s termination as a result 
  of exerting his own authority over the findings of inves-
  tigatory councils and a potent Inquisition.
  Where the reputation of the Templars doesn’t emerge 
  as a politically motivated fabrication is in the order’s 
  devotion to the being or ideal referred to as Baphomet. 
  Supposedly, one of the idols, or “Heads” as they are 
  sometimes called in context worshiped by the heretical 
  Templars was named Baphomet. The problem arises in 
  exactly what Baphomet is supposed to be.
  Some historians believe “Baphomet” to be a poor-integ-
  rity translation of the name of the prophet Mohammed 
  to Old French. These historians suggest that the Templars 
  converted to Islam after contact with it in the Outremer 
  chapter houses, that the root of their heresy was the 
  abandonment of the Christian faith. Theology doesn’t 
  bear this out, however, as Islamic faith also forbids the 
  worship of idols; if the Templars were so keen to adopt 
  Islam, why would they make up their own ersatz version 
  of it?
  Close to the same Arabic sources, some suggest that 
  “Baphomet” is a coarse Westernization of the term 
  “Abufihamat.” If the Templars came into contact with 
  Sufism or Sufi mysticism during the Crusades, which 
  they almost certainly did, they may have been introduced 
  to the concept of Abufihamat, which means “father of 
  wisdom,” in reference to an accomplished Sufi mystic.
  If the Head the Templars worshiped was truly a head, 
  and not simply an idol, the rumored Templar possession 
  of John the Baptist’s head takes on a grotesque cast. In 
  this scenario, “Baph” and “Metis” provide a rough Greek 
  translation of “baptism of grace.” Were this the case, a 
  true accusation of heresy might be able to be made, if 
  the Templars genuinely revered John the Baptist on the 
  level of an idol.
  Indeed, most of the accusations of idol-worship prob-
  ably involved the veneration of relics. The Templars may 
  well have possessed the head of John the Baptist, and 
  they may have even called it Baphomet, but they didn’t 
  necessarily elevate it to the status of a god or idol, any 
  more than any observation of relics does so. This misun-
  derstood reliquary may have combined with a potential 
  conscious choice of substituting the Orthodox Eucharist 
  for the Catholic Eucharist (which might have also been 
  the source of accusations of debased sacraments).
  In the World of Darkness, the truth of the matter is 
  less sinister, as odd as that seems. The Grand Masters 
  of the Templars, in moments of supreme but fleeting 
  clarity, caught a glimpse of the Supernal. They called 
  this peering into vast, unknowable truth Sophia, after 
  the Greek word for wisdom and the Gnostic concept of 
  Man’s perception of the light of God. In order to keep 
  the devoutly Catholic knights of the Poor Fellow-Soldiers 
  of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon from fearing 
  that this Supernal spark was heresy, the Grand Masters 
  of the order hid the concept beneath a veneer of worldly 
  observance. That is, to keep their knights from looking 
  askance at the light of God through the flawed and dim 
  minds of mere Men, the Grand Masters simply told them 
  it was something else. They had their chaplains translate 
  “sophia” using a primitive Hebrew cipher, resulting in the 
  neologism Baphomet.
  It’s a lapse in reasoning, to be sure, but these were 
  soldiers in hostile lands, first and foremost. Their faith 
  was greater than their theology. The Templars privy to 
  this secret of universal order failed to understand that 
  a holy truth venerated under false pretenses results in 
  false faith. In their hubris — for that’s what it was, even 
  if none of them were willworkers in true — they turned 
  the light of God into a graven idol. In the ultimate irony, 
  they were undone by mostly untrue claims of more pe-
  destrian idolatry.
  As well, not every member of the Templars’ order was 
  an initiate of the so-called magical tradition of the order. 
  The original Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the 
  Temple of Solomon were disbanded far too soon for 
  the order as it initially existed to conduct much magical 
  experimentation and research. Most of what today’s 
  “Templarism” makes possible has come as a result of 
  mages’ quiet study and practice in the intervening cen-
  turies, away from the disapproving eyes of the order’s 
  Sleeper critics.
  The Philosophy Today
  Despite the order having been formally disbanded seven 
  centuries ago, in the World of Darkness the Knights 
  Templar still claim a few members worldwide. A scholar 
  would hardly confuse the mages’ modern incarnation with 
  their medieval precedent, however. Today’s Templars are 
  esoteric collectors of the arcane, not warrior-monks or 
  avid bankers, whether they’re mages or Sleepers.
  As well, today’s Knights Templar remain avidly Chris-
  tian, devoted to the purpose of witnessing the light of 
  God. They have little use for Hermetic “magic,” and 
  indeed disdain the concept of magic as most modern 
  (Sleeper) occultists define it. If forced to put a term to 
  what they seek, they might describe it as thaumaturgy or 
  Sephiroth (see Chapter Two for more information on 
  
  84
  Sephiroth and Kabbalah). An especially liberal-minded 
  modern Templar might describe the Baphomet as theurgy. 
  A notably traditional Templar would likely describe the 
  Eucharist and Novena as evidence of the Baphomet.
  Fundamentally, the “magic” of the Templar legacy 
  is a regimen of protection and fortification. This is an 
  outgrowth of the order’s original purpose of protecting 
  pilgrims — under such blessings, the Templar himself 
  is the pilgrim and the light of God serves as his armor, 
  shield, and sword. Unfortunately, the very rubric of pro-
  tection probably served to ignite some of the accusations 
  of heresy and witchcraft against the order. In the act of a 
  Templar’s binding of a “demon,” an ignorant onlooker 
  would only have seen the “demon” and the Templar 
  and thus assume that the knight was trafficking with 
  an evil spirit. The medieval mind was superstitious and 
  fearful, and the other rituals to which the Templars were 
  privy likely seemed just as alien and heretical as Islam or 
  diabolism to the uninitiated, earning the Templars the 
  ire of the Church (not withstanding the financial ire of 
  King Philip IV).
  Sleeper Templars’ current heuristic model is that of the 
  archetypal lone magician. Templars don’t often congregate 
  anymore; a chapter house today is likely the nigh-aban-
  doned manor of an obscure European minor noble or the 
  forgotten study chamber beneath a church or library, where 
  an aged acolyte pursues his craft in quiet anonymity. Gone 
  are the days when a force of hundreds of knights would 
  take to the battlefield, clad in the armor of God. Today, 
  the Templars are solitary knights-errant, waging their own 
  pilgrimages to the shrines of holy enlightenment.
  Sleeper Templar “Magic”
  The theme, both Resonant and metaphorical, of 
  Templar magic is the light of God. Thus, “magical” acts 
  performed by Sleeper Templars occasionally shimmer with 
  numinous halos of such light. In cases like this, however, 
  the light appears muted and indirect, as if viewed as an 
  emanation from behind a sacristy door. It sometimes 
  softens the visible “focus” of the Sleeper working what 
  he believes to be a ritual. It is in these moments that the 
  omnipotent, unknowable God seemingly lets His gaze 
  fall upon the knight, and the radiance of His attention 
  washes over the Templar like a beam of virgin sunlight.
  Arcana
  The Templar tradition, as understood from the point 
  of view of a genuine mage, is as medieval as its origins 
  suggest. It naturally has no comprehension of the full 
  nature of the Tapestry, and concerns itself with only 
  two Arcana, Prime and Spirit. Given that these are both 
  subtle Arcana, the Templars’ understanding of them 
  is incomplete at best, and certainly imprecise. Where 
  Sleeper practitioners of the tradition hone their craft, 
  they see miracles, manifestations of God’s light. Their 
  unreliable ability to view this light fits utterly with the 
  Christian ideal of God working “in mysterious ways.” 
  When a Templar mage performs a spell, he’s not creating 
  the effect himself, he’s submitting a humble request that 
  God shine a bit of His light on the Templar. If the spell 
  fails or succeeds, it’s because God — if He even heard 
  the Templar beseeching Him — actively chose to grant or 
  deny the request. (Tangentially, it’s for this reason that so 
  few of the Templar tradition truly Awaken. Where most 
  mages of the Atlantean craft understand that magic is 
  the imposition of the will on the universe, Templars see 
  magic as a force applied by their divine superior.)
  The whole matter is a point of minor contention for 
  religious mages who are aware of the existence of the 
  Templar tradition. The presence of what the Templars 
  claim to be the light of God argues in favor of the exis-
  tence of God, or at least some higher power, but the fact 
  that mages perceive this light of God to be a duality of 
  two Arcana causes some degree of a lapse of faith. In this 
  sense, either the mages or the Templars are right, and 
  with their greater understanding of what’s happening, 
  it’s likely to be the mages. That doesn’t lessen the power 
  or value of what the Templars have discovered, it simply 
  means they’re wrong, in a Supernal sense, about where 
  that power comes from. While this doesn’t by any means 
  deny the existence of God, it does mean that the Tem-
  plars have an outlook that doesn’t mesh neatly with the 
  Supernal dialectic. For that reason, many mages choose 
  to avoid the Templar tradition, as belief in its efficacy 
  almost demands a deliberate delusion of the self.
  Assuming, of course, that the Supernal aren’t lesser 
  manifestations of a greater God. That’s a point of 
  theology and cosmology for mages to debate, though, 
  and hardly the bailiwick of the comparatively humble 
  Sleeper Templars.
  For its part, the Templar tradition doesn’t pretend to 
  concern itself with the full breadth of “available” Arcana. 
  Even when mages scrutinize the Arcana of Prime and 
  Spirit, their revelations miss... something when placed in 
  the context of all the Arcana’s more comprehensively 
  defined magical relationships. Put simply, Templar mages 
  sometimes deliberately overlap in their distinctions 
  between Prime and Spirit (on the occasions when they 
  use those words as such). To a Templar, certain magical 
  miracles occur as a result of seeing the light of God. 
  Templar mages often acknowledge these miracles in the 
  context of one “Arcanum,” (and, again, they don’t use 
  that word), and it’s the light of God.
  
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  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  In general, Obrimos mages tend to sympathize more 
  strongly with the Templars than the Thyrsus mages, 
  despite equal importance falling on both the Prime and 
  Spirit Arcana in the Templar idiom. That’s not to say that 
  Thyrsus mages don’t relate at all, just that the Templar 
  doctrine cleaves a little more closely to the Obrimos’ ce-
  lestial inclination than to the Thyrsus’ animistic outlook. 
  Indeed, Templar Sleepers might even decry the Thrysus 
  reverence for spiritualism as heresy, because in Templar 
  dogma, there is no god but God.
  Divergent Philosophies and Other Mysteries
  Many organizations claim descent from the Knights 
  Templar, but the Supernal spark that remains precipi-
  tously — if capriciously — among those few real mages 
  who practice the tradition of the Poor Fellow-Soldiers 
  of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon so far seems to 
  have eluded these derivatives. Separating these related 
  traditions from popular misconception is perhaps the 
  greatest difficulty a student of the Templar tradition 
  faces. Indeed, in some cases, popular perception forms a 
  truth of its own, subsequent to the suspected connection. 
  Myth becomes truth. With a history as deep, as cultur-
  ally resonant, and as thrilling as that of the Templars, 
  it’s bound to happen.
  That doesn’t mean they work, however. Of the numer-
  ous factions claiming descent from the Knights Templar, 
  none of them has succeeded in capturing the ability to 
  reflect or selective shine the light of God as have the 
  Templar mages. While they may echo the ritual and adopt 
  the processes, they lack that resonant, divine spark that 
  sets the Templars apart. Indeed, the lack of Resonance 
  endemic to these tangential philosophies allows mages 
  to separate the wheat from the chaff. Since divergent 
  practices to date have lacked any trace of the Supernal, 
  mages have felt safe waving a hand at their collection. 
  The Temple scholar must beware, though, for not only 
  is such blanket dismissal crass, it can be dangerous if one 
  of these parallel traditions turns out to resonate with a 
  mote or more of greater power.
  Organization
  The Templars today have the merest fraction of their 
  former numbers, and they’re scattered even further 
  across Creation than they were during their heyday of 
  the Middle Ages. While any number of false practitioners 
  claim some sort of heritage involving the Templar legacy, 
  historians among the Templars estimate the number of 
  worldwide members at something around 200.
  Modern Templars do retain some of the anachronistic 
  ways of their medieval heritage, notably in their relation-
  ships with other Templars. For example, most Templars are 
  loath to share their mystical knowledge, even among fellow 
  members of the order, like the alchemists of old, unless 
  they know the colleague in question quite well. They reason 
  that, with no central governing body, anyone can claim to 
  be a Templar, so only the ones personally known to the 
  practitioner have any reliable degree of authenticity.
  Indeed, this decentralization contributes to the waning 
  health of the tradition. While the Poor Fellow-Soldiers of 
  Christ and of the Temple of Solomon no longer exists, 
  only the magical tradition in its wake means anything 
  any longer. Thus, anyone who can convince an existing 
  member of the order to make him a “knight,” whether 
  a Sleeper or a mage, has the opportunity to call himself 
  a Templar. After all, this is no longer truly a knightly 
  order; it’s a collective of marginalized nobles and talented 
  scholars united by their common interest in arcane 
  practice. Thus, anyone who fortuitously comes across 
  the magical notes of a Templar (living or dead) — some 
  can even make those notes reveal the light of God — can 
  legitimately make a claim to the Templar legacy.
  In game terms, a character need not be a mage to become 
  a member of the tradition, though he must naturally be a 
  mage to practice actual magic. Because the characters in 
  the World of Darkness don’t have access to each other’s 
  character sheets, many of these Templar titles are thus 
  honorific. A Templar who can make magic is as much a 
  Templar who is just a Sleeper who can witness the Super-
  nal via Unseen Senses, and they’re both potentially on 
  an equal level with the Templar whose family has been 
  attached to the order for seven centuries.
  Where the Templars may exercise some degree of 
  control over the tradition’s destiny is apprenticeship, but 
  again this shows a great deal of medieval mindset. Few 
  Templar mentors would apprentice a female, though a 
  few progressive knights, seeing the nadir of the order have 
  brought women into the tradition — often to the disgust 
  of more conservative members of the order. Likewise, 
  some mentors will take only suitably aristocratic appren-
  tice-squires, who are able to prove both their magical 
  acumen and their distinguished breeding. Still others 
  make poor teachers, encumbering the already oblique 
  esoterica of the tradition beneath layers of quasi-feudal 
  obligation and mystical mumbo-jumbo, none of which 
  is relevant to the modern practice of the tradition. In 
  the end, finding a mentor who’s not mired in his own 
  delusions of what the order is can be an exercise in 
  futility, and a would-be Templar might occasionally be 
  better off by translating one of the order’s documents 
  and learning its tenets by process of trial and error. In-
  deed, it’s often (and ironically) easier for a mage to find 
  
  86
  Templar tutelage than a Sleeper. Once an Awakened 
  individual can make the magic work, he won’t have to 
  answer to anyone about the validity of his interest or 
  potential. Meanwhile, so many Sleeper Templars vigor-
  ously protect their knowledge from curious outsiders, 
  heedless of the fact that their jealousy of others winnows 
  the tradition’s vitality.
  One of the greater results of the lack of a central, 
  governing body in charge of the order’s consistency 
  of practice is the utter absence of any sense of rank or 
  qualification. Everything occurs at the pace and approval 
  of one’s local master or mentor. Thus, while modern 
  members of the order may claim a knightly rank, that 
  rank may or may not accord to actual magical ability. It 
  may have been bestowed by a noble member of the order, 
  or it may have been granted by a self-styled master whose 
  understanding of the order is based on interpretation of 
  medieval journals instead of true knightly ennoblement. 
  For example, an Awakened mage might find himself 
  possessed of a title below a Supernally impotent Master, 
  simply because of heredity or the standing of the mage’s 
  mentor. The Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the 
  Temple of Solomon no longer have a Grand Master, or 
  at least they don’t have one recognized by every active 
  member of the tradition. Their titles and ranks have no 
  common meaning. That’s because even the members of 
  the order itself don’t have any metric by which to judge 
  membership or accomplishment, even among themselves, 
  other than the ability to make the magic work. It’s a dying 
  tradition, suspended from obscurity only by the handful of 
  devotees who practice it in ever-dwindling understanding 
  of the greater legacy. A high-ranking Templar might be 
  magically impotent or even a quack, while a mage who 
  can truly shed the Light of God with his willworking 
  labors anonymously beneath a theoretical Master.
  Symbology
  The Templars observe a comparatively small collection 
  of arcane symbols, though this actually reflects their 
  narrow focus and devotion to singular purpose. The 
  wise mage knows better than to take this as a sign of 
  simplicity on the tradition’s behalf, however, for these 
  symbols are exceptionally powerful in their use. Awak-
  ened mages point to the inherent power of the symbols 
  as an example of trace Supernal influence translating 
  into the Sleeper craft.
  The Baphomet
  Perhaps the best-known image of the Templars’ key 
  symbol is the illustration rendered by Eliphas Levi, 
  
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  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  depicting a goat-headed creature of decidedly demonic 
  cast. This is somewhat misleading, however, as few of 
  the Templar tradition think Levi had actually achieved 
  any of the mysteries of the Templars. Levi’s illustration 
  actually exceeds the concept of the Baphomet as Sophia, 
  depicting what appear to be the dualistic aspects of the 
  Sophia and the Logos, the Light and the Word. Levi’s Ba-
  phomet has both female and male features, and makes a 
  gesture implying “as above, so below,” which is a far more 
  hermetic ideal than the Templars subscribe to.
  It is odd, then, that the most recognized image of the 
  pivotal Templar symbol is so distant (though subtly so, to 
  the untrained observer) from genuine Templar doctrine. 
  In the estimation of some scholars of Templar mages, 
  though, this is a masterstroke of misdirection. It leads 
  those who would discern their mysteries for their own 
  purposes away from the actual philosophy of the Tem-
  plars. Levi’s Baphomet is more in line with Crowley’s 
  Thelema, hermeticism, and astrology.
  The functional Baphomet of the Templars’ actual 
  veneration is rarely depicted as a symbol. In practice, 
  the word itself serves as much as a symbol as anything 
  else. Given that the word is an encrypted translation, all 
  of the power inherent in a symbol already exists in the 
  word itself. In fact, one of the most common uses of the 
  symbol in Templar ritual is the inscription of the word 
  upon the air before the practitioner, which many mages 
  see as having parallels to their own use of mudras.
  Occasionally, the Baphomet is given a graphical de-
  piction, but only rarely, such as in situations where the 
  Templar wants to leave a symbol of her passing for other 
  members of the order, or where openly writing BAPHOM-
  ET might attract the wrong sort of attention. In cases 
  such as these, the Baphomet is sometimes represented 
  as a star (for the light of God), a head (lending credence 
  to the connection between the Templars and the relic of 
  John the Baptist), or a fountain (presumably a fountain 
  of wisdom, and perhaps another misinterpreted symbol 
  leading the Templars to condemnation for heresy).
  The Holy Cross
  Templars are very particular about the use of the Holy 
  Cross in magical practice (whether in true Awakened 
  magic, or in the empty ritual of Sleepers). Specifically, 
  the Cross is often used to depict the presence of a magical 
  effect, but never the result of a magical effect. Metaphori-
  cally, the Holy Cross represents the light of God shining, 
  not what it shines upon.
  Some degree of this can be seen in the practical ap-
  plications of Templar “magic.” A Templar might hold a 
  crucifix when establishing a protective ward against some 
  otherworldly entity, but he wouldn’t wave it around as a 
  symbol of faith to strike fear into such creatures.
  Templars also distinguish between the Holy Cross 
  that represents Christianity and the specific Holy Cross 
  that represents the light of God in magical practice. 
  The former is the cross lay folk are used to seeing, the 
  universally recognized T-shaped cross. The Holy Cross 
  associated with Templar magic is the Gnostic cross, a 
  cross within a circle (known as the sun cross or Odin’s 
  cross in some cultures).
  Templars often carry these crosses or at least have local 
  access to them, much as a faithful Catholics carry a string 
  of rosary beads. Indeed, most Templars, being Catholic, 
  carry both their rosaries and their Holy Crosses.
  Codes and Ciphers
  Encryption has long been a part of the Templar tradi-
  tion, from the codes it used to protect pilgrims’ assets 
  to the translated and encrypted name of the Sophia as 
  Baphomet to the imperfect recording of the whispered 
  fragments of the Word transcribed into the low tongues 
  of a post-Babel world. Although by no means as reli-
  ant on codes and numerology as Kabbalah (q.v. on p. 
  32), the Templar tradition does occasionally involve 
  writing hidden prayers as entreaties to God. Likewise, 
  Templars sometimes create amulets in case they think 
  they might not be able to speak a prayer to God in 
  certain dire circumstances.
  These encoded prayers typically find their form at 
  either end of the spectrum of magical practice, both 
  functional and Sleeper. Sometimes they’re quick-and-
  dirty “insurance policies” that make sure the magician 
  will at least be able to make the prayer when situations 
  align against him (such as when dying on a torturer’s 
  rack or being caught beneath a rockslide while searching 
  
  88
  for the Temple of Solomon). Of course, the Templars 
  themselves would never deign to call such amulets some-
  thing so crass as an insurance policy, but the analogy 
  works somewhat. On the other end of the spectrum, 
  Templars occasionally undertake vast rituals, where 
  inscriptions and codes play a critical part in the ritual’s 
  invocation. Indeed, the “grimoires” of many Templars 
  are these very types of talismans, transcriptions of long 
  and involved prayers.
  Rotes
  In most cases, rites and magical ceremonies practiced 
  in the Templar tradition can be learned by mages as rotes. 
  They involve shining the light of God on a certain being 
  (as with protection rotes or rotes of binding) or awaken-
  ing the latent light in an object (such as a holy relic). For 
  this reason, the Templars have codified a handful of the 
  spell effects outlined in Mage: The Awakening, though 
  they obviously don’t cast them as improvised spells, like 
  a true willworker does.
  Templar rites can be used as a basis for the following 
  pre-existing rotes: Divining the Relic (Analyze Enchanted 
  Item, Mage: The Awakening, p. 219); Exalting the Relic 
  (Activate Enchanted Item, Mage: The Awakening, p. 
  221); Recording the Light (Inscribe Grimoire, Mage: The 
  Awakening, p. 220); the Sword of Archangel Michael 
  (Celestial Fire, Mage: The Awakening, p. 224); Identify 
  the Interloper (Exorcist’s Eye, Mage: The Awakening, 
  p. 245); Hallower’s Prayer (Place of Power, Mage: The 
  Awakening, p. 247); and Banish the Interloper (Exorcism, 
  Mage: The Awakening, p. 248).
  Templars also have access to the following unique rotes.
  Girding the Champion’s Faith (Prime •••)
  The Templar invokes a brilliant armor forged from the light 
  of God to turn back the blows of his most ardent enemies.
  Practice: Shielding
  Action: Instant
  Duration: Prolonged (one scene)
  Method: Vulgar
  Cost: None
  The Templar gains two points of armor for the duration 
  of the rote. Additionally, the Templar, illuminated by 
  the light of God, can withstand even the most heinous 
  perils that his foes would inflict on him: While under 
  the aegis of this spell, the Templar downgrades any ag-
  gravated damage he suffers to lethal damage. (This does 
  not affect the upgrade of lethal damage to aggravated if 
  the Templar has already suffered his full Health points 
  in lethal damage, however. See p. 175 of the World of 
  Darkness rulebook for more information on this.)
  The foci for this spell are the Baphomet and a cipher. 
  First, the Templar encodes his own name in a cipher of 
  his choosing, thus protecting his identity with the cipher 
  just as he seeks to protect his body with the spell. The 
  Templar also traces the sign of the Baphomet in the air 
  before him as he casts the spell.
  Dice Pool: Wits + Occult + Prime
  The journals of the Templars indicate that this spell was 
  most commonly used in preparation for a physical conflict 
  with otherworldly enemies, when the knights would face 
  hostile “angels” or entities from beyond most realms of 
  perception. Tales of knights in shining armor, whether 
  among actual military accounts, or even folkloric legends 
  such as Beowulf or the Volsung Saga might have involved 
  kennings related to this spell’s function, even though 
  those sources clearly predate the Templar order.
  While it works fine as a standard armor spell, most 
  mages would likely eschew it as such, since it’s not as ef-
  fective as the armor rotes of many other Arcana (offering 
  less in the way of protection for skilled mages of those 
  Arcana) and it’s plainly vulgar. On the other hand, the 
  protection it offers from aggravated supernatural damage 
  is certainly a boon.
  Communion with the Messenger 
  (Prime ••, Spirit ••)
  The Templar calls out to seek the audience of an “an-
  gel” in its literal definition from New Testament Greek 
  as a messenger.
  Practice: Ruling
  Action: Instant and contested; target rolls Resistance 
  reflexively
  Duration: Prolonged (one scene)
  Aspect: Covert
  Cost: None
  The foci for this spell are all three of the hallmark 
  Templar symbols: the Baphomet, the Holy Cross, and 
  a cipher. First, the Templar creates the sign of the Holy 
  Cross on the ground where he wishes to commune 
  with the angel — the cross in the circle serves as a sort 
  of beacon to the angel in question. Next, the Templar 
  speaks the name of the angel after it has been encoded 
  as a cipher. The more important the “messenger,” the 
  more elaborate the cipher must be. Finally, the Templar 
  makes the hand-sign of the Baphomet when the angel 
  arrives, proving to the angel that he is worthy of witness-
  ing the light of God.
  The Templar casting this spell makes a single call to a 
  single, specific “messenger” angel (whose name he may 
  have procured from any number of sources, liturgical 
  or lay, but it must be the angel’s true name). The angel 
  
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  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  who heeds the call (if the spell is successful) is from the 
  loftier regions of the Shadow Realm but has a singular 
  connection to the Aether, or “Heaven” as the Templar 
  understands it. Obviously, the “angel” is not from the 
  Aether proper, but is savvy to what has occurred there in 
  an up-to-date sense. In the communion with the angel, 
  the Templar may ask the angel any questions that he 
  wishes, and the angel responds with whatever informa-
  tion is salient.
  Of course, mere men surely cannot grasp the full 
  import of what occurs in the Realms Supernal, and the 
  angel’s answers may seem obtuse, incomprehensible, or 
  chaotic. As well, the angel might simply deem the answer 
  to a given question as one the Templar’s mind cannot 
  possibly understand, and may deliberately occlude or 
  withhold information (though it will never lie outright). 
  “What does God look like?” is not a viable question for 
  this spell to answer, nor is “What is the meaning of life?” 
  In response to this first question, the angel might loose a 
  torrent of incomprehensible Enochian syllables, answer-
  ing the question honestly, but in the language only the 
  angels can understand. The second question might yield 
  an almost rhetorical response, such as, “To live in righteous 
  imitation of Christ.” The angels will not be fooled by vain 
  men’s attempts to divine the secrets of heaven.
  Information that may be legitimately gleaned is infor-
  mation that the angel believes men have the context to 
  understand. For example, “Is God angry that we seek the 
  Ten Commandments” is a question that would receive 
  a concise answer, while “How does God feel about our 
  quest for the Ten Commandments” would elicit either 
  an answer incomprehensible to the Templar or a simple 
  rebuff that “It is beyond your capacity to know.”
  The answers asked of the angels need not always con-
  cern the loftier realms. “Is the Temple Mount the true 
  site of the Temple of Solomon?” is a fine question to 
  ask (the answer to which depends upon the individual 
  chronicle). So is “Where have the Templars stored their 
  treasures?” Indeed, so is, “Where are my car keys?” but 
  such a flippant question may well serve to stoke the ire 
  of the angel, and the anger of angels isn’t something any 
  mortal is likely to emerge from unchanged. To this end, 
  it’s worth noting that summoning the angel in no way 
  offers any protection from it, should its divine graces be 
  mocked, challenged, or denigrated. 
  Dice Pool: Presence + Persuasion + Spirit vs. Resistance
  The Templars believe that the evolution of this spell 
  occurred during New Testament times. They note that 
  Abraham, Isaac, Moses, and other key Biblical figures 
  had to use nothing of the sort to commune with God, 
  
  90
  it, and to what end. The occultists John Dee and Edward 
  Kelley claimed to know the speech of Angels, but neither 
  of them is associated with the Templar tradition.)
  Magical Items
  It is curious but fitting that the Templars have no 
  magical items laid claim by the organization itself. The 
  foremost reason is that modern Templars are simply too 
  few and far between to maintain any vast treasure troves. 
  Although they certainly held significant stores of relics 
  and mundane riches in the past, the fracturing and dis-
  solution of the order contrived it so that any wealth or 
  artifacts held by any Templar today is a result of his own 
  luck or initiative, not a factor of Templar affluence.
  Still, those artifacts of history may have secretly been 
  passed down through family lines or discovered among 
  hidden caches of private Templar treasures. What follow, 
  then, are a few examples of magical items that the Tem-
  plars were once rumored to possess. If they still reside 
  among the private collections of modern Templars, only 
  he who possesses them knows for sure.
  Since all the relics once possessed by the Templar 
  order were literal, religious relics, they’re all considered 
  to be Artifacts, owing to their miraculous origins. The 
  Templars were never great practitioners of enchanting 
  items, though religious and magical relics certainly cap-
  tured their attention.
  The Shroud of Turin
  When the Shroud of Turin first appeared in history, it 
  did so in the hands of Jeanne de Vergy at some point in 
  the middle 14th century. De Vergy was the widow of Geof-
  froi de Charny. De Charny’s primary claim to fame was 
  his treatise on the finer points of chivalry, a work of great 
  cultural import alongside those of Chretien de Troyes.
  Geoffroi de Charny also had an uncle, Geoffrey de 
  Charney, who was a prominent figure among the Tem-
  plars, serving as Preceptor of Normandy. Geoffrey de 
  Charney also burned alongside Jacques de Molay after 
  King Philip’s condemnation of the order.
  Speculation among conspiracy theorists and some mages 
  seems to be that de Charney gave the Shroud of Turin to 
  his nephew for safe-keeping, anticipating the turning of 
  fate against the Templars. When de Charney met his cruel 
  end and after de Charny’s own passing, Jeanne de Vergy 
  found her husband’s secret treasure among his estate. The 
  Shroud of Turin then changed hands frequently through-
  out history, finally ending up where it resides today, in the 
  Cathedral of St. John the Baptist in Turin, Italy.
  The shroud is believed to be the death-shroud of Jesus 
  Christ, the cloth that wrapped His entombed body after 
  Dangerous Knowledge
  The ability to learn the secrets known only 
  to Heaven represents a facet of the Mage 
  game that eclipses any easily defined rules. 
  The Templar tradition is included in this 
  book as a way to explore the relationship 
  of faith in the modern world, especially 
  through the lens of the waning ways of the 
  temple knights. We’re seeking to create a 
  sense of Christian mysticism; since these 
  games are written for a predominantly 
  Western audience, we want to reach into 
  that common well of cultural origin and 
  faith so many of us have. We don’t mean 
  any slight to any other religion in this. We 
  just want to present the Templars as a tra-
  dition that has encountered the True Word 
  of God. From their origins as a critical pres-
  ence in the Age of Faith to their dwindling 
  relevance in these modern, cynical times, 
  the Templars “got it,” even if their under-
  standing of how it works or was achieved is 
  less then perfect.
  So, while it’s easy to use the Templar 
  tradition to answer nagging questions that 
  come up over the course of a chronicle, 
  our intent is thematically larger than that. 
  If mages think they have the answers, but 
  these primitive medieval thaumaturges 
  have methods that exceed the mages’ abil-
  ity to understand or codify them, what do 
  the mages really know?
  while later figures such as Simon Magus had to use the 
  same sorts of formulae that the order itself must. Of 
  course, Simon Magus met his end after challenging 
  God’s supremacy, but the Templars are certainly capable 
  of learning from the mistakes of others.
  Some Templars have taken it upon themselves to learn 
  the celestial speech of the angels, potentially in hopes of 
  tricking the angels to answer their questions with a language 
  they assume the mortals not to comprehend. Again, the 
  angels aren’t so simple as this. If an angel suspects a man 
  might have learned the divine tongue, it might simply 
  respond that the answer to a particularly dire question 
  isn’t for men to know. And again, attempts at fooling the 
  angels rarely work out well for the would-be trickster.
  (Of course, that begs the question as to whether a man 
  might even learn the Enochian language, where he’d learn 
  
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  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  He was taken down from the cross. Skeptics believe the 
  shroud to be a medieval forgery, like the finger-bones 
  of so many supposed saints, though true believers insist 
  that the shroud is indeed the funereal garb of Christ and 
  bears His image upon its weave.
  Whether the Shroud of Turin is real or not depends 
  on how the Storyteller wishes to use it. If it’s false, so 
  be it; it’s simply a hoax relic pursued by those ignorant 
  of its falsehood or who have interest in it as a historical 
  item as opposed to a holy artifact.
  If it’s a true artifact, however (and if the one in Turin is 
  the real one and not a fake planted by some enterprising 
  occultist or religious zealot who wanted it for himself), 
  its powers are surely estimable.
  The Shroud of Turin may be able to restore life to a 
  deceased individual, bathing the departed in the light 
  of God and allowing that fallen individual to experience 
  the Resurrection as did Christ. This probably isn’t the 
  case, however, as it discounts the divinity of Christ and 
  the miracle of His death and return to life. Alternatively, 
  it may indeed represent such power of life eternal, an 
  earthly symbol of God’s immortal reward, such as in 
  Christ’s miraculous revivification of Lazarus.
  More likely, the Shroud, as a symbol of Christ’s time 
  on Earth, possesses some ability to reproduce the miracles 
  He performed. In this case, it almost certainly exceeds 
  the humble magics of the Templars and brings a full 
  spectrum of godly wonder to the world. It may heal the 
  sick and repair the injured, as Christ tended to the lep-
  ers, or it may produce a bounty from a meager meal, as 
  with the miracle of the loaves and fishes.
  In the end, the power of such an artifact is truly in 
  the hands of the Storyteller, as an item of such power 
  and significance is doubtless beyond the codification of 
  rules as they exist in Mage. We mention the Shroud of 
  Turin only because of its connection to the Templars, 
  who were likely only the bearers of the artifact; it’s 
  certainly not an artifact created by their own imperfect 
  magical practices.
  The Cursed Crowns
  As Jacques de Molay burned to death on his heretic’s 
  pyre, he whispered a quiet curse upon his malefactors, 
  King Philip IV of France and Pope Clement V. Although 
  the Avignon Papacy would have troubles of its own, it 
  seems that King Philip suffered the true brunt of de 
  Molay’s rumored curse.
  Philip IV died within a year of de Molay’s execution. 
  Thereafter, his three sons succeeded him with astonishing 
  rapidity. His son Louis assumed the throne after he died. 
  Louis X’s reign was short and undistinguished, notable 
  only for the posthumous birth of his son, Jean, who lived 
  only five days, but for those five days was king. Thereafter, 
  Philip IV’s other son, Philip V, assumed the throne and 
  ruled for six years. Philip V produced no heir, and was 
  thus succeeded by another of Philip IV’s sons, Charles. 
  Charles IV ruled for six years and also died without heir. 
  Upon his death, the Capetian dynasty ended.
  While rapid succession occurs throughout history, the 
  details surrounding “the Accursed Kings” are certainly 
  strange. How curious it was for Philip IV to die within 
  a year of de Molay’s curse, and then to have his dynasty 
  utterly eradicated within a scant 15 years afterward.
  While the mortal world looks askance at such notions 
  as curses, that is indeed what happened here. Although 
  de Molay probably didn’t know he had the power in 
  him, he did render a profound judgment on the House 
  of Capet, and the crowns worn by those Accursed Kings 
  still bear the touch of that quasi-divine vengeance to this 
  day, should anyone find them.
  Each of the crowns worn by the last doomed scions of 
  the Capetian Dynasty is considered a cursed item, un-
  surprisingly. (See pp. 336-337 of Mage: The Awakening 
  for more information on cursed items.) Should anyone 
  be so foolish as to don one of the cursed crowns, an ill 
  fate will befall him: Not only will he die within the year, 
  but his direct descendents will die within seven years. 
  If those descendents have progeny, those children will 
  die within seven years of their parent, and so on down 
  through the line of family. It should be noted that only 
  those with a direct bloodline traceable to the crown wearer 
  Templar Magic and 
  Christian Theology
  The exact function of the Abrahamic God 
  isn’t necessarily reducible to Supernal-only 
  phenomena. A mage deals with the Super-
  nal World because his Awakening ties his 
  soul to that higher reality. But there might 
  well be other higher (or lateral, or lower) 
  worlds, and a Sleeper might actually be 
  more free to experience these other realities, 
  since his Name isn’t written on a Watch-
  tower, as he hasn’t signed a contract.
  With that in mind, we’re not trying to 
  define Christian reality in the terms of the 
  Supernal Realms. For more information on 
  the intentional blurring of these lines, see 
  the Storytelling section below.
  
  92
  are affected; relations by marriage are left untarnished 
  by the crown’s deadly legacy.
  Exactly how many of these crowns exist is a mystery. 
  Some followers of Templar mysteries suggest that only one 
  cursed crown exists, that it was the curse laid on Philip IV 
  that provided the withering of the line of descent. Other 
  suggest that each crown worn by each of the kings, from 
  Philip down through Charles — even the tiny coronation 
  ringlet worn by the infant Jean I — possesses the taint of 
  de Molay’s dying exhortation. The fractured nature of 
  the modern Templar tradition further conspires to keep 
  this mystery unanswered, and even those who claim to 
  own one of the cursed crowns may or may not possess 
  one of the actual artifacts.
  Of additional curiosity is the fact that the magics 
  suspected to lie within the cursed crowns aren’t those 
  with which the Templars are readily identified. While 
  the Templars are most commonly associated with the 
  Arcana of Prime and Spirit, those mages keen to the 
  legend of the cursed crowns suspect that the magic 
  empowering them combines aspects of Fate and Time. 
  Explanations for this abound, with almost as much weight 
  of conspiracy as popular Templar myth attributes to the 
  order. Some mages believe that the crowns are powered 
  by divine wonders that exceed Supernal magic, and thus 
  have no definition within the Atlantean idiom. Others 
  suggest that the original crown was crafted by a mage who 
  resented the treatment of the Templars at the hand of 
  the king, and the curse is a product of that mage’s ire. 
  Exactly who this oracle of Fate and Time might be, who 
  was also masquerading as an ironmonger or jeweler at 
  the time, eludes this theory.
  Storytelling 
  The Templars as a concept present a broad base of cultural 
  myth upon which to draw, and then debunk or confirm 
  as the Storyteller chooses to employ. They’re perfect for 
  tales with a gothic tint, as their history is rife with madness, 
  heresy, barbarism, and medieval overture. They’re also well 
  suited to tales that contrast the modern with the arcane, 
  as Mage is designed to do by nature. An interaction with 
  Templars can be a high-action rampage of armored knights 
  fighting against corrupt philosophies, or it can be a sublime 
  revelation of God’s will for His Creation.
  The centuries-long degradation of the Templar charter 
  and purpose provides a ready-made backdrop for sto-
  ries with themes about corruption, decay, and decline. 
  The grand principles to which the Templars originally 
  aspired, both worldly and divine, have crumbled as a 
  result of greedy men and the Templars’ own defeatist 
  isolation. Today the Knights Templar are but echoes 
  of their former glory and grandeur. This has occurred 
  not through any overt evil of their own, but of external 
  forces. The Templars are the remains of a tower, once 
  besieged in an era of legend, now left to crumble and 
  decay under exposure to modernity. Is there a place for 
  the Templars’ archaic practice and dauntless faith in a 
  venal, modern world?
  The Templars can also serve as the basis for a story or 
  chronicle with plenty of rollicking derring-do, digging 
  up the relics connected to the order and rescuing the 
  Ark of the Covenant from shifty-eyed heretics or more 
  chthonic threats crawling in from the Abyss. This can 
  be pulp action (in a cinematic archaeological context 
  you’re no doubt familiar with), tense mystical espionage, 
  or an academic race against time and the minions of the 
  hoary Aether.
  Most importantly, though, the Templars serve as the 
  vehicle by which to examine the interplay between the 
  living religion of Christianity and the conjectural meta-
  physics of Atlantean magic. The magic theory of the mages 
  works almost without a hitch — every idea has its proper 
  place, every Arcanum has its key relationships. But the 
  power of divinity eludes the Atlantean model. It places 
  “gods” among the Aether, claiming them to be the stuff 
  of power itself, attributing to them the meta-Arcanum 
  of Prime. The God of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam 
  trumps this Atlantean rubric. At least, we assume so here, 
  for the sake of the game, and the emotional response 
  you and your troupe have to that notion is the founda-
  tion for a chronicle with the Templars at the center. The 
  Templars themselves represent this parallel power theory 
  — mages understand Templar magic only in the context 
  of their own Atlantean perspective. Mage assumes that 
  the Atlantean perspective is correct, but this treatment 
  of the Templars assumes that the Abrahamic perspective 
  is also correct. Thus, we present the one in terms of the 
  other without suborning the importance of either.
  Alternative Magic 
  (Storyteller’s Options)
  The key to Templar magic is in combining aspects of 
  Atlantean magic into a functioning whole. From the 
  Atlantean perspective, the Templar understanding of 
  what they call magic combines aspects of the Arcana 
  of Prime and Spirit. From the Templar perspective, of 
  course, “Arcana” are a foreign concept — there is only 
  the “light of God.”
  As such, few Templars would be well disposed to see 
  what they wish to do and what mages actually achieve as 
  one in the same. Surely, they wouldn’t argue against the 
  wonder of the mages’ craft, but they would argue that the 
  
  93
  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  Story Seeds: The Templars
  Among the many conceptual hooks presented in Templar magic, history and philosophy, a num-
  ber of other ideas come out of the tradition and are worth a few thoughts on the Storyteller’s part if 
  she chooses to involve them.
  • The Templar Treasure: Of all the money and private belongings held in the Templars’ many 
  chapter houses, much of it became the property of other religious orders, the state, and in a rare 
  few instances, its original owners. That doesn’t account for every valuable belonging or parcel of 
  land held in Templar treasury or knight’s name, however. When the Templars were disbanded, 
  vast amounts of money, valuables, land deeds, and religious artifacts simply vanished by dint of 
  going unaccounted for. Who knows what the contents of each chapter house were? In addition, 
  one item that the dissolution of the Templars never saw admitted into posthumous evidence was 
  the archive kept by the order, detailing those very holdings and assets. This can spawn a number 
  of stories, from the material (“As it turns out, much of France actually belongs to the Vatican as 
  of 1299, according to this parcel of fief-deeds we found beneath the Comte’s wine cellar.”) to the 
  spiritual (“Does anyone else find it strange that everyone who goes to that church in Midtown since 
  that priest from Europe arrived has been calling for an exorcism of the old chapel?”) to the overtly 
  magical (“That guy with the cross on his shirt and the case full of 13th-century scrolls just bound a 
  demon, but he’s not using any Atlantean ritual I’m familiar with”). Indeed, an entire chronicle can 
  spring from seeking an answer to the question, “Just what is the Templar Treasure?”
  • The Templar Fleet: Another vanished enigma, a vast fleet of ships once belonged to the 
  Templar order. Historical records claim that a score of ships registered to the Poor Fellow-Soldiers 
  of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon had been docked at La Rochelle on the western coast of 
  France the day before King Philip’s agents arrested hundreds of members of the order. The next 
  day, the day of the knights’ arrest, all of the ships had vanished, leaving no records of their desti-
  nation. Where did this fleet go, and whom and what did it bring with it?
  • The Temple of Solomon: After receiving their initial charter from King Baldwin II of Jerusalem, 
  the Templars were allowed to make their base at the Temple Mount, which is believed to be the 
  location of the original Temple of Solomon, itself built in the age of antiquity to house the Ten Com-
  mandments. It is also believed to be the site where Abraham formed his covenant with God, where he 
  slew a ram instead of his son Isaac. Obviously, the Temple Mount is of great significance to all of the 
  Abrahamic faiths, and remains a site of many modern pilgrimages (today it is the site of the al-Aqsa 
  Mosque). While the Temple Mount has been explored thoroughly (revealing a network of tunnels 
  beneath the structures there, some of which lead to the mosque that was once the Templar chapter 
  house), actual, physical evidence of the Temple of Solomon has never been satisfactorily discovered. 
  If the Temple of Solomon still exists in the world, in a ruined state or somewhere pristine and un-
  touched by man, and if it truly houses the Ark of the Covenant and the Ten Commandments, imagine 
  what other divine wonders it contains, and what mysteries of the human condition it reveals.
  sources are similar. What the Templars do focuses upon 
  the glory of God and the grandeur of heaven. Templar 
  “magic” (and many hesitate to call it that, for fear of the 
  very argument we posit here) is the art of conversation 
  with angels, exalting the Kingdom of God, and bearing 
  witness to miracles on Earth. It has no place for time 
  dilations, tricks of probability, or mind-control. While 
  it doesn’t deny those things, it considers them on a level 
  other than that of working miracles.
  To represent the single-Arcanum adaptation of Su-
  pernal magic to the Templar tradition, an option the 
  Storyteller may wish to exercise in the use of Templar 
  magic is to negate the increase in the relevant Arcana and 
  heightened Gnosis that normally applies to combined 
  spells, as described on pp. 128-129 of Mage: The Awak-
  ening. Because Awakened Templar magic is designed to 
  intermingle the effects of the Prime and Spirit Arcana, 
  Templar understanding of them is conjunctive. Thus, the 
  
  94
  requisite Gnosis to cast a Templar-tradition rote combin-
  ing the aspects of Spirit and Prime would be the number 
  of Arcana it combines, and the knowledge of the Arcana 
  in question would have to be only at the level required 
  to create the single-Arcanum effect. For example, the 
  Communion with the Messenger Rote would require 
  only Spirit 2, Prime 2, and Gnosis 2, instead of Spirit 2, 
  Prime 3, and Gnosis 3. Speaking with the Angels, hear-
  ing the Word of God and seeing His Light is the core 
  ability of the Tradition, and keeping the basic functions 
  of the tradition out of the hands of most of its (true) 
  practitioners makes the tradition too esoteric.
  Sure, you could argue here, that it’s not supposed to be 
  easy, but we’re not trying to make it easy. The Templars 
  in question still have to be possessed of the Gnosis, 
  Prime, and Spirit prerequisites to cast the rotes — they 
  still have to be mages. This isn’t something everyone in 
  the world can do by throwing a hand sign and wearing 
  a cross. It’s something that initiates into the tradition 
  do, and the doing of that makes them valued members 
  of the tradition.
  Storytellers seeking to adapt this principle beyond 
  the Templar idiom should have no difficulty in creating 
  other philosophies that merge the functions of multiple 
  Arcana into a single meme. Consider a “natural force” 
  principle that combined the principles of Forces and 
  Life, for example. Indeed, Storytellers may wish to ex-
  pand the Templar portfolio to include other Christian 
  miracles, such as by adding Life to Prime and Spirit 
  in the interests of synthesizing Christ’s purification 
  of the lepers, or the healing powers of the blessed 
  Merovingian Kings.
  The main idea is to allow cumulative effects that exceed 
  the focus of a single Arcanum. The admixture of Arcana 
  provides a bit of breadth to the tradition whose power 
  hinges upon these combinations, but it comes at the cost 
  of precluding understanding all other Arcana. While 
  that’s not a problem for the true mage, true mages are 
  as rare as hen’s teeth, and the more-common “normal” 
  scholars of these traditions are thereby bearing witness 
  to the greater light of “all magic” through the prism of 
  their own understanding, whereby the light separates 
  into the colors they perceive.
  Sample Character
  Rossello Viotti, Barone di Petra Longa, 
  Preceptor of Petra Longa
  Quote: I never chose to seek the light of God; it sought me.
  Background: An inheritor of minor fortune and fame 
  from birth, Rossello Viotti inherited the life of a baron. 
  More accurately, he inherited the titles and moneys of 
  an extinct Italian barony. It was a largely outdated title 
  in a fief that had been sold more than 500 years ago, 
  but it was by rights his.
  Rossello’s father had other anachronistic ties to lapsed 
  historical offices as well, and upon his death, his father 
  bequeathed not only the title of barony but also the pro-
  tectorate of Petra Longa under the Knights Templar.
  The inherited knighthood struck Rossello as just as 
  frivolous and outdated as the barony, but when he went 
  over the books and journals held in his father’s secret 
  cache — some dating to more than 300 years ago — Ros-
  sello understood. It made sense to him all of the secrecy 
  in which his father had kept him and his brother, and 
  why his too-modern mother succeeded in gaining her 
  annulment. Rossello’s father was a sorcerer.
  With the comfortable lifestyle established by the es-
  tate, Rossello turned his attention inward to the family 
  history. As it turned out, his family was one of the last 
  few remaining families ennobled in the original Templar 
  tradition. A devout Catholic, Rossello delved readily 
  into the mysteries of the warrior-monks, and considers 
  himself one of the vanguards of the order today. He is 
  well-read, knowledgeable of many of the order’s legends 
  and interests, and willing to personally lead (and fund!) 
  an expedition into the order’s lost assets, provided he 
  can find trustworthy companions.
  Description: A distinguished man of 50 or so years, 
  Rossello is just starting to take the paunch of middle age. 
  He’s tall and stocky, with classical features softened by 
  a life of luxury amid local scandal. All of his clothes are 
  made for him by local tailors or Savile Row ateliers, so 
  he always looks ready to accept even the most esteemed 
  of company. The only time Rossello is without his Holy 
  Cross pendant is when he showers or shaves.
  Storytelling Hints: Most of the time, Rossello is good 
  natured and affable, ready with a joke and a smile for all 
  of the residents of his rural barony. He especially enjoys 
  foreign visitors, with whom he kids that “the problem 
  with Italy is that it’s governed by Italians.” When it comes 
  to matters of Catholic faith or Templar magic, however, 
  Rossello is serious, but open. He enjoys meeting real 
  practitioners of magic, in hopes of comparing notes — but 
  only if those fellow-knights (of other orders, as he sees 
  them) are Christians. He has no interest in “paganism” 
  or “witchcraft” or “diabolism.” The great shames of his 
  life are his mother, whom he cannot forgive for her ill 
  treatment of the sacrament of marriage, and his brother 
  Lamberto, who joined the rival knightly order the Pious 
  Brothers of the Abbey of Theleme, out of spite for the 
  family custom.
  
  95
  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  Real Name: Rossendo Viotti 
  Mental Attributes: Intelligence 3, Wits 3, Resolve 2
  Physical Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 2, 
  Stamina 2
  Social Attributes: Presence 4, Manipulation 2, 
  Composure 2
  Mental Skills: Academics (History) 4, Computer 1, 
  Investigation 2, Occult 3, Politics 2, Science 2
  Physical Skills: Athletics 1, Brawl 1, Firearms 1, 
  Stealth 2, Survival 1
  Social Skills: Empathy 2, Expression 2, Intimida-
  tion (Rank and Privilege) 2, Persuasion 3, Socialize 
  (High Society) 3, Streetwise 1, Subterfuge 3
  Merits: Allies (Government) 3, Allies (Local Police) 2, 
  Contacts (Occultists, Military) 2, Fame 2, Languages 
  (Arabic, English, Greek, Hebrew, Latin) 5, Meditative 
  Mind, Resources 4, Retainer 1, Status (Aristocracy) 3, 
  Unseen Sense 3
  Willpower: 4
  Morality: 7
  Virtue: Faith
  Vice: Pride
  Initiative: 4
  Defense: 2
  Speed: 9
  Health: 7
  THEOSOPHY AND 
  ITS INHERITORS
  A little judicious theosophy seems on the whole a most excellent thing. 
  — Aldous Huxley, Letters 
  A culture used to meaning, used to the certainty of 
  human significance, faces the realization that the universe 
  is vast and uncaring. Suddenly, the great scientists of 
  the age turn everything upside-down. The hand of the 
  creator is withdrawn; suddenly, man is no more than 
  another animal, part of a system with no meaning beyond 
  its own adherence to the laws of nature. This cannot be, 
  thinks the savant. The savant has faith in science, but 
  he knows there is something more. It's only waiting for 
  science to explain it. 
  This attempt to provide empirical proof of metaphysical 
  and religious meaning reached its height in the Victo-
  rian era, and the result was theosophy, the practice of 
  “spiritual science”. 
  Surviving cranky beginnings, bitter schisms and bizarre 
  scandals, the theosophical movement went on to become 
  the touchstone of the New Age. The practice of channeling, 
  the occult history of Atlantis and Lemuria, the investiga-
  tion of auras, the belief in a brotherhood of adepts and 
  masters, the attempt to syncretize Eastern and Western 
  religions, all these things really began with the brainchild of 
  Mme. Helena Blavatsky. Hundreds of esoteric movements 
  exist today, all because of a strange lady from Russia who 
  brought with her news from nowhere. 
  
  96
  News From Nowhere
  Darwin's discoveries changed the way we see the world, 
  and the way we see ourselves. With The Origin of the Species, 
  the hand of the creator had suddenly been withdrawn 
  from the world. Suddenly, mankind inhabited a vast im-
  personal system in which there was no meaning, and in 
  which the human race is no more central than any other 
  animal. To the affluent Victorians of the West, who had 
  long believed that Civilized Man was the center of the 
  universe, such a revelation was a great psychological blow. 
  A new era of spiritual inquiry began. A particularly overt 
  and theatrical kind of spiritualism was all the rage. Vision-
  ary groups split from the established Christian churches, 
  and Westerners began to investigate the religions of the 
  East: Hinduism, Buddhism, Islam and Taoism, mining 
  them for whatever wisdom they could find. 
  Enter Helena Petrovna Blavatsky, known to friends and 
  enemies alike as HPB. In 1848, aged 17, she'd married the 
  Russian Governor of the Caucasus. Within a few weeks 
  she had run away. 25 years later, she turned up in New 
  York with barely a penny to her name. No one knows 
  for sure what happened to her in the time between. Her 
  own accounts are wild and strange. She'd been the lover 
  of a series of famous men, she said. She fought alongside 
  Garibaldi in Italy. She rode bareback in a circus. She had 
  evaded Indians in Canada and narrowly escaped voodoo 
  magicians in New Orleans, she said. She'd owned an ink 
  factory in Odessa and imported ostrich feathers in Paris. 
  She'd traveled across the world as a spirit medium. And 
  then there was her time in Tibet. 
  She had, she claimed, been visited as a young woman 
  by one of the Great White Brotherhood, the hidden 
  masters of the world. This led her to Tibet, where she 
  spent seven years studying under the Masters Morya and 
  Koot Hoomi, immeasurably ancient beings who had the 
  key to all hidden knowledge. They had chosen her to 
  reach the highest level of occult initiation available to 
  a living human being. By the time she arrived in New 
  York, she was ready, she said, to begin her greatest work. 
  This was her news – plucked from the ether. She was the 
  herald of a new age. 
  Blavatsky claimed to be in constant touch with the 
  Masters. Neatly addressed letters from them would 
  appear from nowhere when she was around, literally 
  dropping into the lap of their intended recipients. She 
  could precipitate objects out of nowhere. Small spirits 
  would surround her, sometimes playing tricks on her, 
  such as tying her to her bed while she slept. 
  Or, at least that’s one side of the story. Others said 
  she was a charlatan. Sometimes, when caught out, she'd 
  freely admit using trickery to get people's attention. But 
  she always maintained that the visions were true. By the 
  beginning of the 1870s, Blavatsky had the attention of 
  a lot of people. 
  HPB soon produced Isis Unveiled, her first manifesto 
  of “spiritual science.” She claimed that pages of the 
  manuscript appeared overnight, created by unseen hands. 
  Depending on the reviewer, it was either a revelatory tome 
  of spiritual science or a piece of hackwork cribbed from 
  a dozen different religious and philosophical sources. 
  At HPB's instigation, her friend Colonel Henry Ol-
  cott founded the Theosophical Society, In a New York 
  drawing room in September 1875. The people present 
  at the occasion found the name “theosophy” by flipping 
  through a dictionary. 
  No one had called themselves a theosophist for 
  hundreds of years. The Philalethians, third century 
  Neo-Platonists from Alexandria, had invented the word, 
  and Jacob Boehme had used it to describe his own blend 
  of esoteric cosmology. Nobody was really sure what it 
  actually meant. 
  Blavatsky had her own ideas. 
  Schisms and Inheritors
  The newly minted Theosophical Society became im-
  mensely popular. HPB set up her Theosophical world 
  Headquarters in Adyar, near Madras (now Chennai), and 
  branches of the Society started up in Australia, England 
  and across Mainland Europe. Blavatsky's second volume, 
  the vast and convoluted Secret Doctrine, made her more 
  converts and more enemies. 
  Helena Petrovna Blavatsky died – or ascended as a 
  True Adept to join the Masters – in 1891. Theosophists 
  around the world had already begun to develop and 
  interpret her vast and often contradictory body of work. 
  The Theosophical Society developed schisms. Theosophy 
  spawned movements with similar philosophies but very 
  different practical outworkings. 
  Annie Besant and Charles W. Leadbeater, the two 
  Britons who took control of the Society after Olcott and 
  Blavatsky were dead, took HPB's free-wheeling, messy 
  cosmology and transformed it into something much 
  more formal, much more hierarchical. Blavatsky had 
  drawn a great deal of her ideas from Hinduism; Besant 
  and Leadbeater consolidated that. Funded by bequests 
  and benefactors, they set up dozens of clubs, orders and 
  esoteric societies within the Theosophical Society, each 
  more spectacular than the one before. And then, at the 
  dawn of the twentieth century, they discovered Krish-
  namurti, a teenager from Adyar who they claimed was the 
  incarnation of the Maitreya, the new World Teacher. 
  
  97
  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  Not everyone liked the direction the Theosophical 
  Society had taken. In California, Katherine Tingley, one 
  of the American leaders of the Society, formed a “back to 
  Blavatsky” splinter group, and founded what amounted 
  to a personality cult in Point Loma, California. 
  Rudolf Steiner, head of the German branch of the 
  Society, had long been disaffected with the Theosophi-
  cal Society's growing move into ceremony and hierarchy. 
  The unveiling of Krishnamurti was the last straw, and he 
  formed his own group, the Anthroposophical Society. 
  Anthroposophy is now far more influential than theosophy 
  ever was, thanks to Steiner putting his views on agriculture, 
  medicine and education into practice. Steiner (or Waldorf) 
  schools exist all over the Western world now. 
  Other groups had no formal links with theosophy, but 
  much in common. In their own way, they were theosophy's 
  errant stepchildren. George Ivanovich Gurdjieff talked 
  his way across Europe in the first half of the twentieth 
  century, teaching his followers to have absolute faith in 
  him and his intimate contact with the Source. JG Bennett 
  and PD Ouspensky followed his lead, and other teachers, 
  such as Rodney Collin and Idries Shah, have followed in 
  turn. As an adult, Krishnamurti may have denied that he 
  was the Maitreya, but even after he severed his links with 
  the Theosophical Society, he still taught what amounted 
  to a development on theosophy. 
  A darker side of theosophy existed. This had its inheri-
  tors too: Savitri Devi's attempts to create a synthesis of 
  esoteric Hinduism and neo-Nazism, although not strictly 
  theosophical, could never have come into being without 
  the existence of theosophy's own religious syntheses. 
  In the present day, theosophy's family tree is vast and 
  diverse, ranging from respectable quasi-academic societies 
  all the way through to extremist cults. The work of individu-
  als as diverse as Tony Neate, Doreen Virtue, Betty Shine 
  and David Icke all could never have developed the way it 
  has if it hadn't been for HPB. The New Age that Madame 
  Blavatsky predicted may not have happened exactly as she 
  expected, but it's here, in a thousand different ways. 
  Doctrines, Secret and Otherwise
  Theosophy, anthroposophy and their offshoots are 
  vast fields of study. Madame Blavatsky's writings alone 
  fill several thousand pages. Rudolf Steiner's lectures and 
  books fill more than 300 volumes. And none of that 
  is dogma. Belief has never been a prerequisite for the 
  theosophist. 
  The only thing that a theosophist needs is an open, 
  inquiring mind and the earnest desire to investigate these 
  things. A potential theosophist doesn't have to believe; 
  she has to want to believe. Skeptics might think that this 
  amounts to pretty much the same thing, but there really 
  is a difference. 
  Still, there are several main themes which run across 
  theosophy. Many of these have much in them to fascinate 
  the Awakened. 
  Where to Start?
  Reading more about theosophy can be dif-
  ficult: there's just so much of it! HPB's own 
  writings are all but impenetrable (although 
  the curious should note that all of her work 
  is freely available in several places online, 
  including http://www.theosociety.org/pasa-
  dena/ts/tup.htm). C. Jinarajadasa's First 
  Principles of Theosophy was first published 
  in 1921 and is extremely dated, but it does 
  put across in relatively straightforward lan-
  guage some of the general ideas of theoso-
  phy, and, more importantly, its quasi-sci-
  entific attitude (find it online at http://www.
  austheos.org.au/clibrary/bindex-0.html). 
  An Introduction to Anthroposophy: Rudolf 
  Steiner's World View by Francis Edmunds 
  is a good general guide to the main Theo-
  sophical offshoot.
  If you have the time, Rudolf Steiner's 
  Cosmic Memory is well worth a read (online 
  at http://wn.rsarchive.org/Books/GA011/
  CM/GA011_index.html). It isn't central by 
  any means, but it's a fascinating source for 
  Mage Storytellers and players, since it gives 
  a detailed and very odd overview of Stein-
  er's (and Blavatsky's) idiosyncratic view of 
  human evolution. 
  Meaning and Faith
  More than anything else, the one underlying assump-
  tion that nearly all theosophists hold is that human 
  beings matter. The whole point of theosophy as “spiritual 
  science” is to find a validation for what we believe or 
  want to believe: that there is a benevolent force guiding 
  humankind. That humanity is unique. That human life 
  has meaning and significance beyond the simple material 
  facts of existence. 
  Theosophy and anthroposophy alike posit that all 
  religions hold a glimmer of truth in them. There is a 
  great Intelligence at the center of everything, and this 
  being, this Lord of Everything, governs all fate, all destiny. 
  
  98
  Because every religion has some part of the truth, the-
  osophy attempts to bring them together into that grand 
  synthesis. The existence of God is a given, although the 
  actual conception of God is very vague, and depends a 
  lot on what religion any given theosophist favors.
  The issue is that while all religions may theoretically 
  be equal, in practice theosophical thinkers tend to take 
  one religion and its esoterica and look at others through 
  the lens of that religion. Blavatsky and Besant after her 
  concentrated on Hinduism. Leadbeater preferred Bud-
  dhism. Steiner found his truth in esoteric Christianity. 
  Gurdjieff colored his mysticism with Sufi Islam. 
  This mysticism often marries itself to a somewhat 
  Victorian attitude towards science. Theosophists and 
  anthroposophists alike still often attempt to catalog these 
  observations through empirical observation and dedicated 
  study. A theosophically minded individual believes that 
  natural and supernatural phenomena are both simply 
  things which can be studied and measured, if only we 
  knew how. It's part of the reason why so many theosophists 
  worked so hard investigating reports of fairies, ghosts and 
  psychic powers in the first half of the 20th century. 
  Awakened mages can find this all very attractive, 
  particularly if they were already of a religious persua-
  sion before they Awakened. Reluctant to abandon his 
  religious beliefs, a mage (particularly a Christian or 
  Hindu) could well find theosophy or anthroposophy a 
  perfectly reasonable way to make sense of his experiences 
  with the Supernal Realms and the ancient lore peddled 
  by the Orders. Likewise, a mage whose approach to his 
  magic is academic and methodical may well find that a 
  theosophical approach helps to crystallize his attitude 
  to magic. Whether scientific or religious, the revelation 
  that comes with the Awakening, that there's a Supernal 
  World beyond anything we know, causes many to develop 
  the belief that there's a meaning behind it all. 
  The Three Aims of the 
  Theosophical Society
  The Theosophical Society states 
  its three aims as: 
  1. To form a nucleus of the Universal 
  Brotherhood of Humanity without distinction 
  of race, creed, sex, caste or color. 
  2. To encourage the study of Comparative 
  Religion, Philosophy and Science.
  3. To investigate unexplained laws of Na-
  ture and the powers latent in humanity. 
  The Invisible Government of the World
  Madame Blavatsky claimed that there was a hierarchy 
  of Ascended Masters or Mahatmas, who formed what she 
  referred to as the Great White Brotherhood. According 
  to Blavatsky and her successors, an order of Ascended 
  Adepts inhabits Tibet. From there, they use their pow-
  ers and agents to guide humanity into the next stage of 
  spiritual (and in some views literal) evolution. 
  In Blavatsky's scheme, the Lord of the World, highest of 
  the Masters, descended spiritually from Venus to inhabit 
  the ageless body of a teenage boy, who made his home 
  at Shambhala. His assistants were Buddha, Manu, Mala-
  chohan, and Maitreya, and each of those was assisted by 
  another Mahatma. Jesus Christ, the Count Saint Germain, 
  Solomon, Cagliostro, Moses and Plato were all members. 
  Koot Hoomi (who, in a previous incarnation was Pythago-
  ras), and El Morya were assigned with the founding of the 
  Theosophical society. They, Blavatsky said, were the source 
  of her knowledge. She frequently received letters from Koot 
  Hoomi and El Morya. Most of her books were allegedly dic-
  tated by these Masters. CW Leadbeater, meanwhile, heard 
  from the Master Djwal Khul; other theosophical leaders 
  had their own favored givers of occult knowledge. Helio 
  Arcanaphus, an Atlantean king, apparently sends messages 
  to channelers in the United Kingdom even today. 
  As time has gone on, the list of Cosmic Masters has 
  exploded. Depending on the list, it includes potentially 
  hundreds of others, including Mother Theresa, Pope John 
  Paul II, Padre Pio, Princess Diana and Adolf Hitler. 
  Hitler gets referenced more frequently as a servant of 
  the less well-described but just as ubiquitous Lords of the 
  Dark Face, the Great White Brotherhood's eternal opposi-
  tion. They're the force that seeks to keep mankind off the 
  spiritual path. They would keep us from final Ascension 
  to the company of the Mahatmas. Their way is chaos. Ru-
  dolf Steiner gave them names: he called them Lucifer and 
  Ahriman. Lucifer, he said, was a spirit of pride. Ahriman 
  was the spirit of materialism. Between the two of them, 
  they kept humankind sleeping. The writings of David Icke 
  concerning a conspiracy of giant reptilian beings with 
  psychic powers draw on a similar well of ideas. 
  How real are the Masters and their opponents? To 
  some of the inheritors of theosophy, the Masters are ab-
  solutely, literally real, New Age superheroes who contact 
  the chosen, fight the forces of darkness on a cosmic level 
  and guide humanity through good and bad to a final, 
  shining future. But even in Blavatsky's day, people found 
  other ways of looking at them. 
  The poet William Butler Yeats, who dabbled with 
  theosophy for a while, thought that there were four 
  explanations for HPB's Masters. Maybe they were living 
  
  99
  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  occultists with amazing powers, he thought. Maybe they 
  were psychological artifacts, dramatized forms of her 
  visionary trances. Maybe they were spirits. Maybe they 
  were symbolic faces attached by visionaries and psychics to 
  forces of nature. He never settled on a single answer. 
  The whole cycle of teachings surrounding the Masters 
  appeals to many of the Awakened on a gut level. The 
  Oracles are said by the old Orders to have been responsible 
  for the erection of the Watchtowers and the preservation 
  of magic in the Fallen World. But since then, they've been 
  more or less silent. The idea that maybe they do exist, that 
  maybe they're out there, disguised as these Masters, taking 
  a hand in history? That's incredibly tempting. Likewise, 
  to identify the Lords of the Dark Face with the Exarchs 
  doesn't take an enormous amount of effort. 
  Rumors of theosophical Seers of the Throne who 
  consider the Exarchs to be the Masters and the Oracles 
  to be the Lords of the Dark Face are, as is always the way 
  with the Seers, just rumors. 
  Even if they're not literal beings, the Awakened mage 
  can use the Masters as a focus. The theosophical mage 
  with a metaphorical bent pictures his chosen Mahatma 
  as a kind of avatar or representative of his Awakened 
  soul, a vehicle in his mind's eye for his magic, and the 
  supernatural insights he holds. 
  A picture or a symbol of a Mahatma can be a powerful 
  focus for either kind of theosophical mage. The mage 
  meditates on the Master in his working, creating an Imago
  in the shape of the Ascended One. Any number of magi-
  cal effects can be performed by a mage “channeling” a 
  Mahatma, real or imaginary. 
  Shambhala and Agharti
  The legend of the Mahatmas often gets tied up with 
  the legends of the hidden city of Shambhala, and the 
  underground realm of Aghartha. In Buddhist legend, 
  Shambhala was shaped liked a lotus. Its people were 
  beautiful. They had the secret of longevity. Villages were 
  happy and prosperous. A million sages lived in golden 
  palaces and contemplated the wisdom of the Buddha. 
  With the birth of modern theosophy, the myth took on 
  a life of its own. 
  Madame Blavatsky claimed Shambhala was in the 
  Gobi desert. Other mystics write that it's in the Hima-
  layas. The painter Nicholas Roerich led an expedition 
  looking for Shambhala in 1926, only for the British to 
  turn him back at the Tibetan border. The SS sent Ernst 
  Schaefer's expedition to seek the Original Source of the 
  Aryan Race in 1938. Schaefer made it to Lhasa, but he 
  never found Shambhala. 
  
  100
  The myth was complicated by Victorian tales of Agharti, 
  a vast underground world, a spin off from the various 
  hollow earth theories made popular in Europe and the 
  US towards the turn of the 20th century. The connection 
  between Shambhala and Agharti is unclear. Is ancient 
  Shambhala the capitol of hidden Aghartha? Are they 
  even the same place? 
  And is Shambhala even a place where a mage would 
  want to find? Some versions of the legend of Shambhala 
  and Agharti describe it as something less than a paradise, 
  a vast, hellish world that stretches beneath all the nations 
  of the world, and inhabited by anything from people 
  possessed by ultra-terrestrial entities through to Richard 
  Shaver's “Deros”, degenerate beings enslaved by evil and 
  addicted to negative psychic emanations. 
  Opinions on Shambhala among the Awakened are 
  as varied as anyone else's. Maybe it's a real place, inhab-
  ited by archmasters who have a direct conduit to the 
  Oracles. A friend-of-a-friend story that cropped up in 
  the Mysterium in recent years tells of a doorway in the 
  heart of Shambhala leading directly to the dwelling of 
  the Oracles. Or maybe the Exarchs. The story isn't clear, 
  probably because of the uncertainty of who the Mahat-
  mas actually are. Mages across the world have certainly 
  battled creatures on occasion that resemble the Deros, 
  but that's no proof that Agharti exists. 
  Revelations from the Source
  The Great White Brotherhood isn't, in theosophical 
  terms, the only way to get information. Some esoteric 
  teachers claimed to get it directly from the Source, from 
  the vaguely-defined natural phenomenon they identi-
  fied as God. Gurdjieff, for example, said that he was an 
  Ascended Master, directly inspired by the Source.
  Even those who get their information from the Mas-
  ters have the chance to access the Akashic Record, the 
  astral library of all conscious thought. Literally “written 
  on the air”, anyone with properly developed perception 
  can read it. 
  Again, it's an attractive idea for the Awakened. There 
  are many ways a mage can gain knowledge. A theosophi-
  cal mage creates an Imago of reading the information 
  he finds in the air. Even those mages who don't have 
  any theosophical background can find the idea of an 
  aetheric record of everything a useful thing to visualize 
  when working magics of knowing.
  Evolution
  HPB owned a stuffed baboon. It stood in her office, 
  wearing a wing-collar, shirt, jacket and tie. Under its arm 
  was a copy of Darwin's Origin of the Species. That about 
  summed up Blavatsky's attitude to Darwin. Not that she 
  didn't believe in evolution. Her problem with Darwin 
  was that Darwin drew a connection between man and 
  animal, the logical conclusion being that man was simply 
  a very clever animal. 
  To the theosophist, man is unique. It's impossible to 
  fully explain the theosophical theory of evolution in brief, 
  but generally, the theosophist saw evolution as a function 
  of the connection of everything to everything else. 
  To explain: everything came, way back in the beginning, 
  from inchoate elemental forces. All matter, energy and life 
  came from the same source. Guided by the central intel-
  ligence of creation, those elemental energies solidified 
  into matter; the matter gained life and became vegetable 
  matter; the vegetable matter evolved into animals; the 
  animals evolved into higher beings. 
  Base matter evolves into different kinds of vegetable 
  matter. Here's where the spiritual part comes in: every-
  thing beyond mineral being has a group soul, a kind of 
  general evolutionary consciousness. So there's a group 
  soul for oak trees, a group soul for roses, a group soul for 
  elephants, a group soul for house cats, and so on. When 
  a creature dies, its experiences return to the group soul, 
  allowing the rest of its kind to benefit and evolve. Dif-
  ferent kinds of being evolve in different ways. At some 
  point, a vegetable progenitor became a dinosaur, which 
  became a bird. The bird eventually evolved into a fairy, 
  which is actually a nature spirit. In theosophical jargon, 
  that's called a “minor devic force.” Different kinds of 
  nature spirit evolve from different animals, and each of 
  these kinds of nature spirits might one day evolve further 
  The Daksha and the Dhyanis
  One Legacy of mages, called the Daksha, 
  draws much of its philosophy from the 
  stranger, crankier teachings of theosophy's 
  inheritors. Obsessed with being the means 
  by which the Awakened evolve into the next 
  Root Race, the Daksha allegedly get a lot 
  of their teachings from Dhyanis, reclusive 
  archmasters whose true headquarters are, 
  the Daksha say, unknown. More information 
  on the Daksha can be found in Legacies: 
  the Sublime. 
  Perceptive mages within the Mysterium, 
  the Daksha's favored order, take note that 
  the more influential Daksha do everything 
  they can to discourage expeditions to Tibet. 
  Maybe they're trying to hide something.
  
  101
  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  Anthropogenesis
  The detail of Blavatsky's theory of human evolution 
  is vast. Humanity, she said, is destined to exist in seven 
  Root Races, each of which is divided into seven sub-races, 
  each evolved from the one previous to it and often co-
  existing with its predecessors and successors. William 
  Scott-Elliot and Rudolf Steiner added more and more 
  detail, creating a vast and bizarre literature. 
  The first Root Race were the Polarians, beings of 
  energy living in the primeval world, as shapeless as 
  the planet Earth itself was. They evolved into the Hy-
  perboreans, shapeless beings who eventually solidified 
  and and became the third Root Race, the beings of 
  Lemuria. Originally, the Lemurians were huge, brutish 
  hermaphrodite beings, possessed of a third eye and in-
  nate psychic abilities. Some undefined sin, combined 
  with a new stage in the “solidification of the planet” led 
  to the sexes being divided by the time they became the 
  fully human inhabitants of Atlantis. The first Atlanteans, 
  the Rmoahals, were giants with blue-black skin. As time 
  went on, they became smaller and changed color. The 
  Atlanteans had amazing powers of memory, but little 
  reasoning capacity. Their psychic powers were incredible. 
  They had harnessed the power of vril, the life force and 
  used it to power amazing wonders of science, many of 
  which are impossible now, because the planet's gravity 
  and atmosphere are not what they were. When Atlantis 
  fell, the fifth Root Race, the Aryans – modern Indo-Eu-
  ropeans — arose. The psychic powers so common on the 
  sunken island were lost to all of humanity, Atlantean, 
  Lemurian and Aryan alike. 
  Living in a world where school textbooks and main-
  stream encyclopedias divided the human race into three 
  sub-species, it's not surprising that Steiner, Blavatsky and 
  Scott-Elliot identified black people with the remnants of the 
  third Root Race, East Asian and Native American people 
  with the fourth Root Race and Indo-Europeans with the 
  fifth. These days, this part of the story gets ignored. 
  For many of the Awakened, the tale of a long-forgotten 
  past where magic was real is foundational to what they 
  are. Theosophy adds a further explanation of the loss of 
  the greatest Atlantean magics: it was partly because of 
  a sin, but also because the world has changed in form. 
  This can be something of a comfort and a frustration. 
  The Akashic Record can reveal amazing things. If they're 
  impossible, that's too bad. But it isn't a modern mage's 
  fault. It's just the way things are. 
  Reincarnation and the Augoeides
  Theosophists maintain that there is no human group 
  soul. Human souls are unique. Over and over again, 
  into the form of a greater deva (which is more or less the 
  same as what most people would think of as an angel). 
  Humans are different. They're separate from the rest 
  of creation, because they've been guided by the Lord of 
  Creation, and by the Manus, who are archetypal beings 
  entrusted with overseeing human evolution. Humans don't 
  have a group soul. They have an individual soul, which 
  can ascend. Before he ascends, a human has to reincarnate 
  until he finds his way onto the Path of the Adept. 
  The implications of this for the Awakened are vast. If 
  spirits , fairies, angels and demons are really evolved from 
  animals, surely it could be possible to find a single magic 
  capable of evolving or devolving any creature? Surely, truly 
  understanding the interconnectedness of all things could 
  lead to unlocking the key to the one magic that governs 
  all life, all spirit, all matter and all forces? 
  
  102
  the soul turns the Karmic wheel and, every six hundred 
  years, incarnates in a new life. Each new incarnation 
  can be either male or female. Some souls are destined 
  to incarnate together, re-living close relationships over 
  and over again. A man and a woman in love in one life 
  might be father and son in another. Friends, enemies 
  and lovers appear over and over again with varying rela-
  tionships to each other. 
  The soul's true form is as an Augoeides, an idealized, 
  shining, sexless human figure encased in an ovoid of light. 
  Between incarnations, the Augoeides retreats into the 
  Presence of God, however God is conceived. The Augoe-
  ides is a constant in Western occult thought, going back 
  to the Platonists. Many traditions apart from theosophy 
  have their own take on it. Although theosophy itself isn't 
  strictly magical, there are Western traditions which have 
  created complicated ritual spells for the summoning of 
  an Augoeides, both one's own and the one of someone 
  who has died. Given the cross-pollination of theosophy 
  with practically every kind of esoteric wisdom out there 
  over the course of the twentieth century, an Awakened 
  theosophist shouldn't have a great deal of trouble learn-
  ing one of these spells. 
  The Problem of Race
  It's pretty inescapable: the theosophi-
  cal ideas of culture and race were founded 
  in the work of people who, by modern 
  standards, really were racist. Having said 
  that, the culturally-bound prejudice that 
  produced the more extreme racial views of 
  Madame Blavatsky and her various suc-
  cessors wasn't deliberate, as such, and 
  theosophists and anthroposophists these 
  days mostly concentrate on the idea of the 
  Brotherhood of Man, interpreting the Root 
  Races less in terms of actual physical evolu-
  tion and more as “cultural epochs”, stages 
  of spiritual history. 
  This is not to say that there haven't been 
  open racists – Savitri Devi, for example 
  – whose theories have owed a huge debt 
  to theosophy. But in general, theosophists 
  have moved on, thankfully in line with the 
  culture in which they live. 
  
  103
  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  CW Leadbeater's Lives of Alcyone
  In 1910, Charles Leadbeater began a 
  series of articles in The Theosophist, which 
  were later published as a book with the title 
  The Lives of Alcyone. The Lives purported 
  to be the biographies of the thirty previous 
  incarnations of Krishnamurti, then still a 
  boy, beginning in 22,622BCE and running 
  up to 624CE. 
  As the biographies were published, it 
  became apparent that the figures who were 
  reincarnated around “Alcyone” happened 
  to be Leadbeater's contemporaries in the 
  upper echelons of the theosophical hierar-
  chy. Having a place in the Lives was for a 
  time a source of great personal pride (and 
  a fair deal of oneupmanship) among cer-
  tain members of the Theosophical Society's 
  more influential membership. 
  Character Creation
  Theosophy is an easy tradition for the Awakened to 
  use. A lot of its ideas – the sanctity of the soul, Atlantis, 
  the existence of cosmic Awakened figures with superhu-
  man powers – only slightly differ from those passed down 
  among the old Orders for millennia. That's something of 
  a cause for wonder in itself: how did Madame Blavatsky 
  know so much? How did she get so close to so many 
  Awakened secrets? After all, in the end she was just a 
  Sleeper. Wasn't she? 
  Members of some Atlantean orders find theosophy 
  easier to countenance than others. The very fact that 
  Blavatsky, Steiner and the others were so close in so many 
  ways gives members of the Guardians of the Veil jitters. 
  As a “spiritual science,” theosophical investigation is 
  often open for anyone who would listen. The idea that 
  mage would practice as a theosophist and possibly even 
  share secrets, even minor secrets in a diluted, cryptic 
  form, doesn't cut much ice with many Guardians. Having 
  said that, some post-theosophical groups are more secre-
  tive than others, and it's possible that a Guardian might 
  throw his lot in with one of the more reserved esoteric 
  societies. Other Guardians of the Veil find theosophical 
  groups as excellent places to disseminate disinformation 
  along with rare, precious jewels of truth.
  Theosophy in its purest form has a tradition of pacifism. Not 
  all of theosophy's inheritors were pacifists (GI Gurdjieff and 
  Savitri Devi certainly weren't), but traditionally, theosophists 
  and anthroposophists themselves eschew the use of violence as 
  a solution. The Adamantine Arrow, on the other hand, exists 
  to fight. That Arrow mages have little to do with theosophical 
  mages shouldn't come as much of a surprise.
  On the other hand, theosophical ideas about the hierarchi-
  cal nature of the world, evolution and spirituality fit right in 
  with a lot of Silver Ladder mages, both where they are and 
  where they would like the Sleepers to be. A theosophical 
  teacher has to be willing to help his pupils pull themselves 
  up to a higher plane by their metaphorical bootstraps, and 
  a Silver Ladder mage is so very likely to think she's the adept 
  for the job. Some mages believe that the Mahatmas who con-
  tacted HPB were actually mages in disguise, their intention 
  the revelation of barely veiled truths to the Sleepers. 
  Mages belonging to the Free Council, although not 
  always quite so enthused by Atlantis stuff, still have a lot 
  of time for theosophy. The idea of spiritual science, of a 
  discipline through which religious belief, supernatural 
  phenomena, scientific and quasi-scientific observation 
  and personal experience appeals to mages modernist and 
  religiously inclined alike. 
  Of all the orders, the mages most sympathetic to 
  theosophy come from the Mysterium. Theosophy, an-
  throposophy and the esoteric systems that grew up after 
  them are about knowledge. A Mysterium theosophist 
  takes pleasure in re-reading and re-interpreting the great 
  theosophical writings, investigating fortean phenomena 
  and scouring the Akashic Records for clues. 
  Of the Paths, Acanthus, Mastigos and Thyrsus mages 
  are those who find theosophy's esoteric disciplines easi-
  est to practice, as the theosophist finds magics of Mind, 
  Time and Spirit surpassingly useful. Moros mages who 
  specialize in talking to ghosts and Obrimos mages who 
  know how to manipulate vril (the Atlantean power source, 
  which some mages identify with mana) find uses for their 
  skills, but their favored magics tend to be less focused 
  towards theosophy's peculiar spiritual disciplines. 
  Leading an Esoteric Society
  Theosophists work best in groups, and an Awakened 
  theosophist's insights into reality give him an ideal op-
  portunity to set up a group of his own. Members of a 
  group like this respect their teacher and can be expected 
  to provide aid, supplying him with small one-time gifts 
  of money, a place to stay if necessary, practical help, or 
  any of a hundred different kinds of material aid. 
  The player of a theosophicallly-inclined mage can du-
  plicate all of these things with applications of different 
  Merits and Skills. 
  Retainers represent the most faithful members of the 
  group. Others might just as well be Allies or Contacts. 
  
  104
  With a group that counts as one dot of Allies (Esoteric 
  Society), the character leads a handful of people. 
  With a total of two or three dots of Allies, Retainers, 
  or Contacts, the society is either based in a single com-
  mune or teaching center, or it is spread out across the 
  state or region in small groups, each numbering no more 
  than a handful. The group has no more than a hundred 
  members. At this level, the mage might also think about 
  tying in extra dots in Sanctum and Library, representing 
  buildings that are at the mage's disposal. 
  With dots in Allies, Retainers, Contacts, and other Merits 
  totaling no less ten, then the organization is better known, 
  with a nationwide spread and membership in the hundreds. 
  The player can tie dots in Sanctum and Library to the society. 
  One dot in the Fame Merit might also be justified. 
  With more than about sixteen total dots in various 
  Merits (including five dots in Allies), the organization 
  could have an international following. Its membership 
  is in the thousands. It might have other resources, too, 
  such as a small printing press or an international center 
  owned by the group rather than the teacher, like the 
  Theosophical HQ in Adyar, for example, or the Anthro-
  posophical Goetheanum at Dornach. 
  None of this presupposes that the teacher is making 
  any money out of the group, although subscription fees 
  and benefits for the group can be the source of the Merit: 
  Resources. Gurdjieff, despite his undeniable charisma, 
  lived in penury for years at a time (no more than one 
  dot of resources). On the other hand, the late Rev. Mark 
  Prophet (a more recent channel for the Masters) lived 
  very comfortably indeed (four or five dots). 
  An Esoteric Society needs to have come from some-
  where. A teacher who leads another, older society can be 
  a Mentor, as Gurdjieff was, for example, to Ouspensky. 
  Running a society is potentially very useful. It gives the 
  players' characters a space to be based, and a reason to 
  exist beyond just “doing magic and stuff.” It gives the 
  Storyteller the chance to create subplots and storylines 
  based around the people in the society. 
  This kind of support doesn't come for free. A charac-
  ter needs to maintain his group, with regular meetings 
  or bulletins from wherever it is the character draws his 
  authority. No one gets a reputation as a teacher without 
  teaching people stuff. 
  Abuses of the group's goodwill can backfire, causing 
  people to leave or for outsiders, such as investigative jour-
  nalists or church action groups, to denounce the Esoteric 
  Society as a cult. Of course, an esoteric teacher must also 
  live up to his teachings, at least publicly. Getting caught 
  in deception can be potentially disastrous. A failure to 
  The Lonely Death of 
  Peter Damien Ouspensky
  In 1947, the esoteric teacher PD Ouspen-
  sky chaired a series of question-and-answer 
  sessions before the full membership of his 
  own Historico-Psychological Society. In the 
  last meeting, tired and irritable, he told his 
  assembled followers that his teachings were 
  worthless, that he and his followers had 
  wasted the last thirty years. His followers 
  should forget what they learned and strive 
  for self-knowledge, he said. That was all. 
  Shortly after that, he died, surrounded by 
  still-adoring followers, but very alone. 
  A large proportion of Ouspensky's follow-
  ers decided that he knew that he was about 
  to “ascend” and that his apparent denial 
  of his “System” was an act of trial. He was 
  testing himself and them, only rejecting the 
  System as they had inadequately under-
  stood it. He hadn't failed, and his System 
  hadn't, they said. They had, and it was their 
  duty to carry on studying it. 
  The lesson here is simple: anyone char-
  ismatic enough to start an esoteric group 
  – especially a mage, who has the mystical 
  prowess to back up claims of supernatural 
  knowledge – should beware. Groups like 
  this can often be more single-minded than 
  the people who start them up. 
  Finding the Masters
  All it takes is for a venturesome cabal of 
  mages to find a journal or some other shred 
  of evidence which shows that the Masters 
  really existed, that they knew about the true 
  history of magic, and that they disseminated 
  it among the theosophists. Even if it doesn't 
  take the cabal to Shambhala, it leads them 
  to discover the identity of the Masters. 
  But who were they? Archmasters? Mages 
  who actually ascended (and is “ascension” 
  the same as joining the Mahatmas)? Spirits? 
  Ghost mages from lost nations? Or some-
  thing else entirely? And are they still alive?
  
  105
  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  observe any of these things can cause the character to 
  lose dots in the various Merits that represent the society 
  as word gets around the group and people leave. 
  Theosophical controversies are fierce, and esoteric 
  groups are notoriously fissive. A teacher needs a strong 
  personality to keep a group from falling apart. Other 
  mages might want to manipulate the group. Other rival 
  groups might cause problems. The Guardians of the Veil 
  run groups like this... and introduce moles into groups 
  that interest them. 
  Finally, esoteric groups sometimes develop a mind of 
  their own. Even the most charismatic leader can find 
  zealous followers getting out of hand, particularly if the 
  followers do things in the teacher's name that are wildly 
  at variance with what he actually wants. 
  Magic
  Theosophy isn't a magical tradition. Its Sleeper follow-
  ers don't do magic. It isn't a religion either. It's a given in 
  theosophy that belief comes from insight and experience. 
  Theosophy isn't about performing miracles. It's about 
  understanding them. The uncanny miracles that HPB 
  performed are, for the most part, in the past now. This is 
  not to say that an Awakened theosophist can't do magic. 
  Magics of knowing, perceiving and understanding all have 
  their place, often proving to be the difference between 
  success and failure for the esoteric adept. 
  Unlike the paraphernalia of other Western traditions, 
  the tools used in theosophical spells are rarely elaborate. 
  The Awakened theosophist uses mundane objects, 
  such as watches, pens, pieces of jewelery, plants, pieces 
  of paper or books as concentration points. Often, he 
  performs his magics through meditation, and lengthy 
  concentration on one particular point. The theosophi-
  cal movement was the first to popularize channeling in 
  the West, and still practices channeling today. It can 
  be a useful and powerful tool for discovering truths, 
  no matter how real the entities channeled might be. 
  Theosophical disciplines take time and concentration, 
  and most tradition rotes count as ritual castings for an 
  Awakened theosophist.  
  In game terms, most theosophical rotes are extended 
  castings, even if the original spell could be cast instantly. 
  A theosophical mage can use the instant version of the 
  spell, but only either as improvised magic or by learning 
  the rote again from her order (meaning that the player 
  has to pay the experience points for it over again).
  Theosophical magics have a clear, bright kind of 
  resonance. They feel clean, but they also feel somehow 
  “foreign,” as if they came from far away, or long ago.
  Past Life Regression 
  (Mind ••• + Time •••)
  To find one's way through past lives is often to find out 
  the key to the present. A mage with this spell can bring 
  himself and others through other past lives, reliving one 
  or more of their previous sojourns on earth. 
  Practice: Patterning
  Action: Extended
  Duration: Prolonged 
  Aspect: Covert
  Cost: 1 Mana
  The mage can cast this spell on himself with Mind 
  ••• and on others instead of or as well as himself with 
  Mind ••••.
  Success allows the subjects of the spell (who must be 
  living) to experience events in one or more previous lives, 
  experiencing the events if they were there. Their past life 
  adventure might appear to take a long time (perhaps 
  taking a whole game session for the players), but it only 
  really takes a few minutes for the present-day character 
  or characters.
  The spell is subject to the usual modifiers for extended 
  castings (see Mage: The Awakening, p. 120). It takes a 
  psychological toll on its subjects, and can only be cast on 
  any given individual once in a 24-hour period. 
  Mysterium Rote: Pre-Incarnation
  Dice Pool: Manipulation + Occult + Mind
  The Mysterium investigate every shade of being they can. 
  The few Mysterium mages who travel through apparent 
  past lives have come back with powerful insights. 
  Theosophical Rote: Path of the Augoeides
  Dice Pool: Presence + Occult + Mind
  It's a long, drawn-out process. The spell needs a quiet, dark 
  room and a relaxed atmosphere. The caster induces trance 
  in himself and/or his colleagues. Perhaps he hypnotizes each 
  of them with a watch or a pendulum in turn. Perhaps he 
  chants. The mage calls on one of the Mahatmas to appear 
  and show the subjects their past lives. They perceive the 
  Master as a presence, leading each of them in turn out of the 
  room and into a former memory. The process of inducing 
  the trance and taking the subjects back into their previous 
  lives takes a whole lot longer than the actual experience, 
  although the subject doesn't perceive it that way. 
  The Life of the Senses (Life •)
  Spell: “Pulse of the Living World” (see Mage: The 
  Awakening, p. 181)
  Dice Pool: Wits + Science + Life (extended)
  The very first anthroposophical exercise involves medi-
  tating on the force of energy within a living plant. The 
  
  106
  mage needs to find a place of silence and contemplates 
  a living plant, observing its every contour and purpose 
  with the utmost care, gradually becoming aware of the 
  green force within it. Having reached a point of enlight-
  enment through observation, the mage understands life 
  that much better for a while. 
  Etheric Lens (Mind •)
  Spell: “Aura Perception” (see Mage: The Awakening, 
  p. 205)
  Dice Pool: Wits + Empathy + Mind (instant)
  The mage sees without seeing, closing his eyes for a 
  moment and concentrating on the individual in front 
  of him. In his mind's eye he sees the aura of the subject, 
  like the colors that appear on the back of the eyelid after 
  staring too long at the sun. 
  Ajna (Mind •)
  Spell: “Third Eye” (see Mage: The Awakening, p. 206)
  Dice Pool: Wits + Occult + Mind (extended)
  The mage meditates for a time, closing his eyes and 
  focuses his being on the center of his forehead. Suddenly, 
  his third eye opens, like a flower unfolding its petals. 
  The Presence of the Teacher (Mind ••)
  Spell: “Emotional Urging” (see Mage: The Awaken-
  ing, p. 207)
  Dice Pool: Presence + Persuasion +Mind vs. Composure 
  + Gnosis (extended)
  During the Russian Civil War, Gurdjieff and his commune 
  fell foul of the Bolsheviks while trying to escape Russia. In 
  danger of being shot where he stood, the Master managed 
  to not only convince the Reds that he and his friends were 
  a legitimate archaeological expedition, but talked them into 
  giving him money for shovels and picks. His possibly super-
  natural powers of persuasion got him safe passage letters 
  from both White and Red armies, written on the two sides 
  of a single sheet of paper. Such was his hypnotic power. 
  Getting Away With It
  In 1884, Madae Blavatsky left Adyar for a 
  trip to Europe. While she was away, Emma 
  Coulomb, a member of staff who had 
  recently had a serious argument with HPB, 
  threatened to blow the Theosophical Society 
  wide open with accusations of trickery and 
  the production of incriminating letters. She 
  even told the Theosophical Society's Board 
  of Trustees where HPB's props were hid-
  den. They all went to the shrine room to 
  investigate. One of the trustees banged his 
  fist against the shrine, saying, “You see, it is 
  quite solid,” at which point the middle panel 
  flew open, banging the poor man in the face 
  and revealing a secret compartment con-
  taining all of HPB's guilty secrets. 
  Despite the charges, Blavatsky got away 
  with it. Some charges she freely admit-
  ted. Some she laughed off. Some she flatly 
  denied in the face of overwhelming evidence. 
  And somehow she managed to get through 
  the scandal with the bulk of the Theosophical 
  Society still convinced of her powers. Maybe 
  she really did have mystical powers – just 
  not the kind everyone originally thought. 
  So Reincarnation Happens, Then?
  Just because there's a spell that allows 
  characters to experience past lives, it doesn't 
  mean that reincarnation actually exists. A trip 
  through past lives thanks to the spell could as 
  easily be a symbolic means of allowing the 
  spell subject to access useful information from 
  the Supernal Realm. In the end, it's up to the 
  Storyteller exactly how real reincarnation is.
  Running a past life story can be a fun way 
  to change the pace of a story. Characters 
  living past lives have the same Traits. Traits 
  that wouldn't exist in the past disappear or 
  turn into similar Traits. Drive, for example, 
  could turn into Ride; Firearms could be-
  come a skill in shooting other, more ancient 
  weapons. Otherwise, the characters can 
  change sex, relationship with each other 
  and social station. Nothing that happens 
  in the vision can directly affect a character 
  undergoing regression: injuries that happen 
  to the past-life character don't affect the 
  present-day character, for example. 
  This spell can be abused, and a savvy 
  Storyteller whose players learn this spell 
  might wish to have a few ideas for past 
  lives (and how they apply to the story at 
  hand) ready and written up. Alternatively, 
  the Storyteller is well within her rights to 
  disallow the spell. 
  
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  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  The mage who uses this power, like Gurdjieff, fixes 
  the subject with his eyes and talks to him at length, us-
  ing the full force of his will, the cadences of his speech 
  and the subtle cues of his posture to talk anyone into 
  nearly anything. 
  Transmission of Brilliance and Energy (Mind ••)
  Spell: “Opening the Lidless Eye” (see Mage: The 
  Awakening, p. 209)
  Dice Pool: Presence + Persuasion +Mind (extended)
  When Annie Besant first met Madame Blavatsky, HPB 
  didn't say a word to her about anything occult at all. They 
  spoke for half an hour, and when it was time for Mrs Besant 
  to leave, the older woman fixed Mrs Besant's gaze and said 
  only this: “Oh my dear Mrs Besant, if only you would come 
  among us.” At that moment, Mrs Besant's perceptions were 
  altered. This was the moment of her conversion. 
  By talking to the subject about anything at all, the mage 
  can implant a tiny suggestion. A single trigger phrase, 
  right at the end of the conversation, instantly expands 
  the subject's perceptions. Suddenly, everything looks 
  new and strange. 
  Thought Forms (Mind •••)
  Spell: “Universal Language” (see Mage: The Awaken-
  ing, p. 213)
  Dice Pool: Wits + Expression + Mind (instant)
  Annie Besant and CW Leadbeater pioneered the use 
  of thought-forms: pictorial representations of shapes 
  and emotions, encoded in any music, language or work 
  of art. The mage holds his pen tightly and meditates on 
  the thing he wishes to translate for a moment. Then 
  sketches the shape of the thoughts he sees in his mind's 
  eye on a piece of paper. The resulting series of abstract 
  shapes can be understood by anyone who sees them, at 
  least for a little while. 
  Call Augoeides (Mind ••••)
  Spell: “Supreme Augmentation” (see Mage: The 
  Awakening, p. 216)
  Dice Pool: Resolve + Occult + Mind (extended)
  The mage can bring his own Augoiedes to the sur-
  face, becoming able to access skills and potential locked 
  within it, at least for a while. It takes a long time to do 
  (it's always a ritual casting). The mage needs to meditate 
  in his sanctum and needs to avoid all other contact. He 
  adopts a comfortable position and trains his third eye 
  on the center of his being, before thrusting his percep-
  tion outwards towards the God-principle at the center of 
  everything, linking himself with the whole. If successful, 
  he becomes aware of his own Augoeides as a shining 
  figure at the corner of his perception, which separates 
  from him, and then merges again. The wisdom of dozens 
  of past lives floods to the mage's surface consciousness, 
  allowing him to access greater psychic reserves than he 
  normally could use.
  Precipitation (Space •• + Matter ••)
  Spell: “Apportation” (see Mage: The Awakening, p. 234)
  Dice Pool: Dexterity + Occult + Space (extended)
  Madame Blavatsky used to receive letters from the 
  Mahatmas. Sometimes the Masters would have letters 
  for her friends, too, which used to appear in thin air 
  and drop into the laps of HPB's bewildered pupils. She 
  was good at making other things appear, too: small china 
  saucers, little trinket and the like. It's not incredibly hard 
  to cause little things to drop out of thin air. All it needs 
  is a bit of time spent visualizing the object in the third 
  eye. A clever mage can even hold a conversation while 
  visualizing the object's form, although he can't do much 
  else, allowing the effect to appear much more sudden 
  than it really is. 
  Spirit Guide (Spirit •••)
  Spell: “Greater Spirit Summons” (see Mage: The 
  Awakening, p. 249)
  Dice Pool: Presence + Expression + Spirit vs. Resis-
  tance (extended)
  When Madame Blavatsky was completely alone, she 
  was able to call upon the Mahatmas Koot Hoomi and 
  El Morya. Her relationship with them was cordial. She 
  could, apparently, call up other things, devic forces of 
  various kinds that did her bidding. A theosophical mage 
  can do much the same. Meditating in absolute solitude, 
  chanting, perhaps using a crystal or a book as a focus, 
  the mage can call a spirit to her. It might be a Mahatma, 
  or one of the Masters' servant beings. It might be a be-
  ing that resembles a “fairy” or an “angel”. It could be a 
  spirit from Atlantis (some of the Awakened say that a 
  few Rmoahals retreated into the Shadow, for example). It 
  might even be one of the Manus, the archetypes of each 
  of the Root Races, still extant in the company of the Lord 
  of All Creation and ready to answer questions. 
  Overshadowing (Spirit ••••)
  Spell: “Spirit Possession” (see Mage: The Awakening, 
  p. 253)
  Dice Pool: Manipulation + Persuasion + Spirit vs. 
  Resistance (extended)
  To be overshadowed is to be controlled, worn like a 
  glove. In séance conditions, the theosophical mage can 
  make a spirit enter her (or someone else) and for a time, 
  
  108
  overshadow her. The séance doesn't need all of the para-
  phernalia of the séance, but it does take time. The mage 
  might meditate silently, or maybe she chants or repeats 
  a spoken formula. Maybe things happen to the room. 
  The lights flicker. The table shakes. There's a knocking 
  on the walls or at the window. The subject of the spell 
  stiffens, and begins to speak with a strange, impossibly 
  altered voice. The victim has been overshadowed. Mages 
  with sense order themselves or their subjects (who must 
  be willing) to be strapped or tied down until such time as 
  the spirit leaves. The kind of spirits that the theosophists 
  call upon themselves are usually benevolent, but it's best 
  not to take chances. 
  Guide To What Is (Time ••)
  Spell: “Augury” (see Mage: The Awakening, p. 258)
  Dice Pool: Intelligence + Occult + Time (extended)
  There's a kind of Clear Light that infuses everything, 
  containing the potentiality of all things. Meditation al-
  lows one to enter that light and merge with it. A mage 
  whose can both lose himself and retain control of his 
  spiritual direction, allowing him to ascertain threads of 
  cosmic direction for people, places and objects. 
  Akashic Reading (Time ••)
  Spell: “Postcognition” (see Mage: The Awakening, 
  p. 260)
  Dice Pool: Wits + Academics + Time (extended)
  The Akashic record is like a vast library, an ephemeral 
  computer, and the mind of God. Anyone can read it if he 
  only knows how. The mage stills his body, regulates his 
  breathing and empties his mind, entering a hypnagogic 
  state where his perceptions are able to read the spiritual 
  data that overlays a place or object as if it were words 
  written on the air. 
  Storytelling 
  Theosophy is quite easy to slip into a Mage chronicle: 
  the assumption of significance and the myths of Atlantis 
  are already part of an Awakened orthodoxy. Now mix in 
  a small faction of mages who operate within an esoteric 
  tradition, and suddenly the society of the magicians goes 
  beyond the Awakened. Sure, the inheritors of theosophy 
  can be misfits and outsiders, but they can also be frighten-
  ingly knowledgeable. The fact of unearned knowledge can 
  pull the rug out from right beneath a character's feet.
  
  109
  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  Consider a mage who, searching for the tomb of some 
  Atlantean adept-king, finds himself approached by a Sleeping 
  stranger who knows his name and claims to have a message 
  for him from the ancient long-dead mage. And then, imagine 
  the mage's surprise when the information put across in that 
  short, cryptic message turns out to be completely accurate. 
  Maybe there are Sleepers in theosophical (or like-theosophy-
  but-not-actually-theosophical) groups who really are being 
  contacted by someone or something. Are the Masters real 
  beings? Are they Oracles, reaching across the Abyss to contact 
  the Sleeping? Have the Sleepers come across a sure-fire means 
  to access some cosmic source of wisdom, using the Masters as 
  convenient thought pictures to dramatize the process? 
  Alternative Magic 
  (Storyteller's Options)
  What if it were all true?
  The stakes would be different: Real Masters and real 
  Lords of the Dark Face battle for the evolutionary destiny 
  of humanity. More than that: they're in touch. A lot. 
  Communications from the Mahatmas and the Enemy 
  Story Hooks: Isis Unveiled
  • The Lives of Alcyone: A cabal of mages facing a terrible enemy discover evidence that they've 
  faced their opponent together in previous lives, perhaps seeing portraits of versions of themselves in 
  a book of ancient lore, or hearing a supposedly mythical tale that parallels their own struggle in too 
  many ways to be simply coincidental. Perhaps they start having dreams. A theosophical mage who 
  knows the rote “Path of the Augoeides” helps them to discover past lives, going all the way back to 
  Atlantis. The mages experience a series of brief vignettes (or even complete stories) where they have 
  different relationships with each other, different stations in life, different faces and names and possibly 
  even different genders, each time finding a different weakness or a different facet of their trans-incar-
  national enemy, who could be a Sleeper enemy, an ancient conspiracy, a spirit, another re-incarnated 
  mage who has taken the road of the Scelesti in each of her previous lives, or even one of the Bound. 
  • Oh, Look. Another Schism: A theosophical mage, perhaps a member of the cabal, meets 
  with his Sleeper allies only to find that his thunder is being stolen by another esoteric teacher with 
  a subtly different but seductive system (such as one which leads the way to occult racism or to 
  acts of violence, for example). The mage hasn't met the newcomer, and the Sleepers, who are 
  leaving the mage in droves for the newcomer, are reluctant to let the mage near their new favor-
  ite teacher. Who is leading the Sleepers astray? Is the other person a charismatic Sleeper, a rival 
  mage, or a vampire with an interest in things theosophical? Is the new teacher necessarily all that 
  bad? And what will the character have to do to regain the trust of his pupils? There may well be a 
  temptation to abuse his powers with these Sleepers. That way leads to the Abyss. 
  • Cataloging Fairies: The cabal are asked to face a malicious spiritual force – spirits, per-
  haps, or actual fairies. Unfortunately, their efforts are opposed by a well-meaning theosophical 
  mage who wishes to study the phenomena, and considers the creatures' destruction a violation 
  of “evolved devic forces.” Is this mage misguided, or is he on to something? Are the creatures less 
  malevolent than they appear, or will it all end in tears? 
  are everywhere. They arrive in mysterious letters from 
  nowhere. Bearded, smiling Brahmins appear in locked 
  rooms and give clues to the future. And Sleepers get the 
  message, too. The problem – and this is a problem that 
  Leadbeater, Besant, Tingley and the others had – is that 
  the messages are contradictory. Whose side are the Masters 
  on? Are the Lords of the Dark Face guiding the Seers 
  of the Throne and the Mahatmas guiding the Pentacle? 
  Or is it the other way round? Or are the Masters and 
  the Dark Ones both guiding individuals on both sides 
  at the same time? 
  Real Masters living in a real planetary HQ means a real 
  Shambhala, and possibly a real Agharti, and if that's the 
  case, the questions surrounding them might one day be 
  settled. The Watchtowers might be real earthly places, 
  albeit real earthly places that a mage can visit astrally, 
  the HQ of the Masters. What if a different cabal of Ma-
  hatmas made its home in each Watchtower? And what if 
  the Watchtowers themselves held the key to the Supernal 
  Realm? Finding Shambhala could mean ultimate power. 
  It could mean the end of everything, as the balance is 
  upset and the evolutionary plan is jeopardized. 
  
  110
  Magic would change subtly. The “Spirit Guide” 
  and “Overshadowing” rotes might become useful for 
  contacting the Masters themselves. Meanwhile, the inter-
  connectedness of all spirits, animals and vegetation could 
  mean that magic could affect evolution itself. Consider 
  what an archmaster's Practice of Evolving could achieve. 
  Forces could be made into actual living mineral beings, 
  minerals into hive-sentient vegetation... and animals into 
  spirits, spirits into angels, people into higher spirits... and 
  people could be made to Awaken. With the right mix 
  of Arcana, anything could become anything else: with 
  Life 6+ and Spirit 6+ a bird could be made to become a 
  fairy; with Matter 6 + and Life 6 + a rock could become 
  a living, walking being made of vegetation. 
  If all knowledge were available on the Akashic Record, 
  a talented enough mage would be able to learn rotes 
  directly from the Akasha. He'd have to have the means 
  of reading it (namely Time 2), but essentially, like all 
  learning, rotes are there for the taking, which means all 
  sorts of other implications. An order's library of rotes 
  wouldn't be useless, but it would be less vital. Meanwhile, 
  Acanthus mages, with their power over Time magic, could 
  become powerful repositories of knowledge. 
  Sample Character
  Abayakoon
  Quote: The emanations? Oh yes. They're particularly strong... 
  here. No, not there, idiot! Here. 
  Background: Jyotishi Anand's father was a doctor, 
  one of the wave of medical professionals who moved to 
  the United Kingdom from India in the 1950s and '60s. 
  Jyotishi was a teenager when London began to swing, 
  and threw himself into the scene, much to his dad's 
  disapproval. 
  As the 60s wore on and London swung in a psyche-
  delic direction, Jyotishi became, like many of his fellow 
  hipsters, mixed up with a number of gurus and esoteric 
  teachers, more because it was where the beautiful people 
  were than because he had any interest in watered-down 
  Hinduism. In the end, transcendental meditation only 
  took him so far. His Awakening came at a Strawberry 
  Alarm Clock gig. Having consumed a prodigious quantity 
  of acid, he went on a trip straight to the Watchtower of 
  the Stone Book. He signed his name on a guest list for 
  a party he could never leave. 
  Jyotishi took a step back from the London scene. 
  He tried to make sense of what had happened to him 
  through the lens of the half-remembered Hinduism he'd 
  abandoned years before. By the time the Mysterium 
  found him, he'd become conversant with the works of 
  Madame Blavatsky and her followers, and when his new 
  friends explained their take on history to him, he found 
  his interest in theosophy validated. 
  Nearly four decades later, Abayakoon (the name of 
  Jyotishi's maternal grandfather, who himself was a minor 
  spiritual teacher) is a prominent figure in theosophical 
  circles across the British mainland. He's not particularly 
  senior in the Mysterium, but he is certainly well-known. 
  He's got a small esoteric school of his own, running 
  correspondence courses for Sleepers in such things as 
  “Psychic Self-Defense” and “Self-Actualization Through 
  Meditation”, and travels around the country giving talks 
  to esoteric students, New Agers and theosophical groups. 
  Often, his travels are an excuse to do his own research. 
  Description: Tall, straight-backed and noble of feature, 
  Abayakoon looks upon friend and enemy alike with an 
  enigmatic smile. Now in his early 60s, he is clean-shaven 
  and always immaculately groomed, preferring to wear 
  tailored suits and ties, sometimes in an Indian style. 
  Abayakoon's good looks and sense of authority allow 
  him to get away with lapses of personal etiquette that 
  would get other men beaten up. 
  Abayakoon's nimbus is a gentle corona of multicolored 
  light that temporarily obscures the details of his face and 
  makes the colors and shapes around him seem to waver 
  and blur into one another for a second, before snapping 
  back into sharp focus. 
  Storytelling Hints: Although genial, Abayakoon is 
  sometimes breathtakingly rude. His personal magnetism 
  (and a dash of magic) helps him to get away with it. He 
  often says exactly what he thinks of people to their faces, 
  
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  CHAPTER THREE: OFFSPRING
  although he knows when to be gentle. He's very percep-
  tive. His criticism is often right on the mark. 
  Abayakoon's youthful curiosity and zest for experimen-
  tation grew, as he matured, into a desire to investigate. 
  Usually, his travels bring him to places where unusual 
  phenomena have been reported. He is particularly 
  interested in sightings of fairies, or creatures that look 
  like fairies, such as Chhaya-Ji, the spirit that became his 
  familiar. He would much rather understand these “devic 
  forces” than assault them. He has sometimes obstructed 
  the actions of other mages who would destroy what they 
  perceive as a supernatural threat, but what he sees as an 
  opportunity for study.
  Dedicated Magical Tool: A calling card featuring the 
  Theosophical emblem. 
  Real Name: Jyotishi Anand
  Path: Thyrsus
  Order: Mysterium
  Mental Attributes: Intelligence 4, Wits 2, Resolve 3
  Physical Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 2, 
  Stamina 2
  Social Attributes: Presence 4, Manipulation 3, 
  Composure 3
  Mental Skills: Academics 3, Computer 1, Investigation 
  (Fortean Phenomena) 3, Occult (Theosophy, Esoteric 
  Hinduism) 3, Medicine 1, Politics 1, Science 1
  Physical Skills: Drive 2, Larceny 1, Stealth 1
  Social Skills: Animal Ken 1, Empathy 2, Expression 
  (Writing) 2, Persuasion 1, Socialize 2, Streetwise 1, 
  Subterfuge 1
  Merits: Allies (Theosophists) 2, Contacts (Theo-
  sophical Study Groups, Fortean Investigators, 
  Vedanta Movement), Familiar (Twilight), High 
  Speech, Languages (English, Hindi, Sanskrit – his 
  native language is Tamil), Library (Fairies), Magi-
  cal Tradition (Theosophy), Resources 2, Status 
  (Mysterium) 2
  Willpower: 6
  Wisdom: 7
  Virtue: Charity
  Vice: Pride
  Initiative: 5 
  Defense: 2
  Speed: 9
  Health: 7
  Gnosis: 3
  Arcana: Life 3, Mind 4, Spirit 4, Time 3
  Rotes: Mind — Alter Aura (••), Read the 
  Depths (••••); Spirit — Coaxing the Spirit (•)
  Tradition Rotes: Life — Life of the Senses (•); Mind — 
  Etheric Lens (•), Third Eye (•), Thought Forms (•••),
  Path of the Augoeides (Mind •••• + Time •••); Spirit
  — Spirit Guide (•••), Overshadowing (••••); Time 
  — Guide To What Is (••), Akashic Reading (••)
  Mana/per turn: 12/3
  Armor: 3 (“Organic Resilience”, Life ••)
  Chhaya-Ji
  Abayakoon's familiar, Chhaya-ji, appears 
  in Twilight as a strange cross of bottom-
  of-the-garden fairy and Hindu avatar: a 
  perfect, tiny representation of a slim, beauti-
  ful, naked woman, no more than a foot tall, 
  with sky-blue skin and smiling features, 
  wreathed in gentle light. She has brightly-
  colored butterfly wings and shining black 
  hair, clipped back with minute stars. She 
  speaks from Twilight with a voice that is 
  low and musical, like gentle chimes. 
  Attributes: Power 2, Finesse 3, Resistance 2
  Willpower: 5
  Essence: 10 (10 max)
  Initiative: 5
  Defense: 3
  Speed: 11
  Size: 1
  Corpus: 3
  Influence: Light 1
  Numina: Wilds Sense (Dice Pool 5)
  Ban: Chhaya-Ji must spend the whole 
  night, every night in the open air. She can-
  not remain under a roof between the hours 
  of sunset and sunrise. 
  
  112
  
  113
  CHAPTER FOUR: THE FRINGE
  Chapter Four: 
  The Fringe
  “Ma told us to bring you these eggs, Miss Sairey,” the taller of 
  the two little boys said, his voice a little trembly as he looked up at 
  the conjure woman who stood in the doorway of her small cabin.
  “That’s kind of your Ma, Robby,” the old woman said. She smiled at 
  the smaller of the boys, who stood in his mud-stained overalls a little 
  behind his older brother. “Take your thumb out of your mouth, Lewis, 
  you’ll grow warts!” she said. Lewis immediately jerked his thumb from 
  between his lips and wiped it dry on his overalls’ leg. 
  “Here,” she said, handing the older boy a wire-wrapped crystal 
  hung from a ribbon soaked in broccoli water for three nights. “Have 
  her wear this next week when she goes to the hospital for her chemo,” 
  Sairey said, hoping she had imbued the crystal with enough Life magic 
  to buy the boys’ mother a few more good years. 
  A big, ﬂ uffy orange-tabby tomcat came to the door from inside the 
  house and twined himself around Sairey’s legs. “Here’s Ginger,” she 
  said. “Go ahead and pet him like you do the other times you’ve come by.” 
  First Robby, then his little brother gently stroked the big cat on the 
  top of his head and repeated the verse Sairey had taught them, “Kitty 
  be nice, Kitty be good. Kitty keep me from ﬁ re and ﬂ ood.” Another 
  week’s protection for two active, precious boys, Sairey thought as she 
  watched them turn and run back down the path until they disappeared 
  from sight as they entered the forest toward their home.
  Her magic was harder here; wrapped in rituals as it was, it took 
  more time. Still, there was something satisfying in the rhymes and 
  repetitions, the poultices and hoodoo bags. More importantly, the 
  Seers wouldn’t look for her among the superstitious mountain folk of 
  West Virginia. Not for a good long time. 
  
  114
  Although many magical traditions are considered 
  by their more orthodox sibling or parent religions to 
  be illegitimate or bastardized versions, some magical 
  traditions are even more denigrated than others. These 
  exist on the fringe, barely considered traditions at all, 
  or are thought by some to be outdated and ridiculous 
  relics of older times. And yet, these traditions have as 
  much potential to convey Supernal truth as any, if one 
  can get past preconceptions about their legitimacy or 
  seeming lack of gravitas. Two such “fringe” traditions 
  are the hoodoo magic from the hills and hollows of the 
  American Appalachians, and the entheogen cults that 
  have risen in the wake of the ’60s drug-based explorations 
  of consciousness.
  APPALACHIAN 
  HOODOO 
  All ye things and spirits of evil, I forbid you this house and home; I forbid you, in the 
  three holy names, our blood and ﬂ esh, our bodies and souls; I forbid you all the nail 
  holes in this house and home, until you have traveled over every hillock, waded through 
  every water, till you have counted all the leaﬂ ets of the trees and counted all the starlets 
  in the sky, until that beloved day arrives when heaven comes upon this earth.
  —Manly Wade Wellman, The Old Gods Waken
  From the Hills 
  Hexery, conjure women and root doctors call up im-
  ages from a time before the modern world and its science 
  displaced folk remedies and “superstitions.” Flourishing 
  in the 19th and early 20th centuries in the Appalachian 
  mountains   and as far north as Pennsylvania Dutch 
  country, hoodoo practitioners and powwowers served 
  as healers, charmers and hexers for much of the rural 
  population. Often revered, more often reviled or feared, 
  the men and women who practiced — and in some of the 
  mountains’ hidden places still practice — spiritualist magic 
  most often found power in the connections between the 
  natural world of herbs, roots and simple objects and the 
  objects of their spells. 
  But are these backwoods practitioners really gone? Have 
  they been consigned to history or do they still work their 
  mountain hoodoo behind the backs of the scientists and 
  debunkers? What is their history, their folklore, their 
  system of beliefs? And what is their attraction for mages 
  of the Atlantean traditions?
  To seek out these folk mages of the Appalachian moun-
  tains is to travel backward in time to an era marked by 
  small communities locked away in their mountain fast-
  nesses, far from the conveniences of city dwellers. Amid 
  the lonely calls of the whippoorwills and the long silences 
  of a darkness far from sounds of traffic and gunfire, a 
  magic born of nature casts a dim but vibrant reflection 
  of the Supernal World. 
  History of Hoodoo
  The word “hoodoo” comes from an African word as-
  sociated with root magic, but the practice itself derives 
  from a combination of African beliefs, Native American 
  herbal and plant knowledge and European folklore. 
  Though hoodoo men and women hail from the 19th 
  and 20th centuries, the traditions they draw from are 
  much, much older. Once practiced throughout much 
  of colonial America, particularly in areas where African, 
  Native American and European knowledge came together, 
  it became associated with the magical practitioners of the 
  Southeast and Appalachian regions. During its heyday 
  in the 1800s, root doctors, conjure women and witches 
  or hoodoo workers could be found almost anywhere by 
  someone looking in the right places hard enough and 
  long enough. As civilization moved into the mountains 
  and rural places where hoodoo prospered, the conjure 
  woman’s clients turned to science to cure their ills, psy-
  chobabble to help them find love and “get rich quick” 
  scams to bring them riches. Though the tradition has 
  diminished in numbers of adherents, a few still exist, 
  mostly in the Appalachian mountains and other out-
  of-the way places where the modern world has not yet 
  completely erased the old connections.
  Hoodoo magic is traditionally passed down from 
  mother to daughter or father to son, and outsiders who 
  want to learn this tradition have to prove themselves 
  worthy and willing. The study of hoodoo can take years, 
  
  115
  CHAPTER FOUR: THE FRINGE
  and those not born to the tradition often learn it in bits 
  and pieces. Hoodoo mages generally learn the ways and 
  words as children from the practicing parent. By the 
  time they are old enough to use the spells and workings, 
  they have had a lifetime of exposure — a familiarity that 
  cannot be duplicated by outsiders. It is almost impos-
  sible to learn hoodoo from books and research, even 
  for Awakened mages. 
  Mix and Match Magics
  Because hoodoo comes from such varied ethnic and 
  cultural backgrounds, trace connections exist between it 
  and other magical traditions. The African elements cross 
  paths with the voudon or “voodoo” tradition, sharing 
  similar concepts of mojo (or gris gris) bags, fetish objects 
  and potion working. Native American shamanic and 
  herbal magical practices are echoed in hoodoo through 
  the use of plant or root cures, ritual baths and burning 
  of herbs. Hoodoo resembles the European magical or 
  pagan tradition in its attention to nature and weather 
  magic. Lastly, hoodoo has incorporated Christian symbols 
  and textual references into its practices, thus preserving 
  it from the persecution suffered by the practitioners of 
  other traditions.
  In short, the amalgam of folk traditions and beliefs that 
  make up the practice of hoodoo has become a uniquely 
  American — predominantly southern American — form 
  of magic, complete with its own trappings, vocabulary 
  and belief system. 
  From Atlantis to Hoodoo
  Though hoodoo does not have one common mythol-
  ogy or one single origin, the idea of a world that has 
  fallen from grace or perfection figures strongly in its 
  background. The memories of Atlantis become longings 
  for the Garden where Adam and Eve dwelled. In fact, 
  Biblical figures sometimes populate many underlying 
  hoodoo myths. The Fall of Atlantis survives in the story 
  of the Exile from the Garden of Eden. The Abyss or 
  outer void that separates this world from Eden or Heaven 
  takes the form of Hell. 
  For those who approach hoodoo from the African 
  traditions, many of the spirits revered by voudon believers 
  also stand guard over the magical practices of hoodoo. 
  In particular, the spirit known sometimes as Legba, 
  sometimes as Eshu and sometimes as the “dark man” 
  has an affinity for crossroads and represents the one 
  who opens the way. This spirit is often confused with 
  the Devil (or Satan) of Christian beliefs, but is actually 
  more of a trickster or tempter. 
  Some Atlantean mages see the Crossroads as a symbol 
  of the intersection between the Supernal and Fallen 
  worlds, and, therefore, the source of hoodoo magic. 
  Since crossroads consist of two roads intersecting at right 
  angles, ideas of Euclidean geometry and the magic of 
  measurements and relationships come into play, extend-
  ing the invisible lines of history back into the distant 
  past. Crossroads as centers of power are also seen as the 
  intersection of two ley lines, forming natural Hallows 
  where Mana collects and contributing to the eerie feeling 
  many people get when they encounter a true Crossroads. 
  And it may be the Crossroads itself that stands for the 
  memory of Atlantis, for it is both a place of power and 
  a potential site of doom or destruction. The mage at the 
  Crossroads may choose the path that leads to knowledge 
  and guardianship of the magic at the root of the world 
  or she may follow the road to delusion and destruction, 
  re-enacting the primal fall of Atlantis in her own life.
  Hoodoo and the Magical World
  Though it draws from three distinct cultures — the 
  European magical tradition, Native American shaman-
  ism and plant lore, and African root and spirit magic 
  — Appalachian hoodoo has a surprisingly unified outlook 
  on the world. To put it simply, the world is a place filled 
  with magical potential and responds to the workings of 
  the practitioner.
  Having expressed the unified vision, the belief system 
  backing up the hoodoo tradition consists of several 
  disparate principles. These principles are not unique to 
  the hoodoo tradition; some of them are not even what 
  most mages consider “true” magic. Taken together and 
  unified through the worldview of a magical, responsive 
  universe, all these ideas come together into a magical 
  tradition that has flourished since the early days of 
  colonial America.
  Sympathy: Like Affects Like
  The notion that all things are connected by a common 
  force or energy lies at the heart of sympathetic magic. 
  To a hoodoo practitioner, bonds of sympathy aren’t just 
  used with Space magic to affect distant targets; they are 
  also exploited for healing purposes as well as for hexing 
  and attraction spells. Knives, axes and other sharp imple-
  ments become tools to “cut” the pain in the hands of a 
  conjure woman. The sharp object is placed under the 
  bed of a woman in labor or a child suffering from the 
  pain of a broken limb. The color green, represented by 
  green candles or a dollar bill figures in magic to attract 
  wealth. A stone may be used to harden someone’s heart, 
  either physically or emotionally.
  “Measuring,” “passing,” and “transference” are other 
  forms of sympathetic magic that make use of relation-
  
  116
  ships between an object and the target of the magic. 
  Taking the measure of a person involves outlining the 
  person with a cord which is then sealed or fused shut. 
  The person possessing the “measure” literally controls 
  the life of the person measured. Cutting the cord could 
  have very serious, possibly lethal, effects while burning or 
  singing the cord could cause great pain in the person it 
  represented. Another form of measuring involves cutting 
  a stick to the height of a person, usually a child. As the 
  child outgrew the stick, he would outgrow the condition 
  that the stick was used to treat, such as childhood asthma 
  or other physical weakness. 
  “Passing” is a method of sympathetic magic that makes 
  use of the physical action to denote a metaphysical pas-
  sage. Passing a child back and forth between her parents 
  three times was used to cure childhood sicknesses, making 
  visible the “passing” of the child from one state of health 
  (sickness) to another (wellness). Other forms of passing 
  require that the target be passed underneath an animal, 
  such as a cow or horse, handed through the twin trunks 
  of a split tree, passed from a dark room into a lighted one 
  and similar activities, each geared to the desired effect 
  through a sympathetic connection.
  “Transference” refers to the idea that an illness or a 
  condition can be transferred from one object to another. 
  The idea of transference is a very old one, fraught with 
  religious meaning for many followers of the Judeo-Chris-
  tian religions. The sins of the world were transferred to 
  Christ and were thus forgiven; an animal to be sacrificed 
  often bore sins or gifts or petitions from the physical 
  world to the supernatural one; a scapegoat received the 
  blame for a mistake, misfortune or some evil deed. Ap-
  palachian hoodoo makes the most use of transference 
  in healing illnesses, passing them along to an animal or 
  an inanimate object.
  The Rule of Three
  The old adage “the third time’s the charm” is nowhere 
  more true than in Appalachian hoodoo — and in European 
  magics as well, thus confirming one part of hoodoo’s 
  origins. Whether stemming from the Christian trinity of 
  Father, Son and Holy Spirit, or the pagan trinity of Maid, 
  Mother and Hag or, as some more modern symbologists 
  decree, the nuclear family of mother, father and child, the 
  practice of repeating an action or reciting a verse three 
  times or in multiples of three has deep roots in hoodoo 
  magic. The book by John George Hohman, called Pow-
  wows or Long-Lost Friend, thought my many to be one of 
  the most definitive compilations of Appalachian hoodoo, 
  is subtitled “a Collection of Mysterious and Invaluable Arts 
  and Remedies for Man as Well as Animals…” and through-
  out its pages, the following injunctions (or variations) 
  proliferate: “this must be repeated three times…”; “Break 
  off three twigs from a cherry tree…”; “say three times in 
  the same breath….”
  Other cures and spells involve repeating an action for 
  three days, three times each day, for a total of nine times, 
  which is one of the strongest uses of the power of three 
  and invokes the Pythagorean theories of mathematics 
  involving the squares of numbers. Atlantean mages, 
  when they work within the tradition of Appalachian 
  hoodoo, often find that judicious use of the trinomial 
  power can act as a focus for their rotes even when no 
  other materials are at hand.
  Charms, Talismans and Hexes
  The use of charms, either material objects or recited 
  words, and talismans, always material, to “fix” or focus 
  magic is common to many traditions, including Appa-
  lachian hoodoo and its African cousin, voudon. Worn 
  talismans or amulets also appear in many religions, and 
  include the Catholic practice of wearing a saint’s medal 
  and the occult use of the talisman against the evil eye. In 
  hoodoo magic, the charms are often made from simple, 
  ready-to-hand materials. Diseases such as epilepsy or fevers 
  of various kinds are treated by writing a phrase such as 
  “sickness leave me” on a scrap of paper, folding it, wrap-
  ping it in a piece of red cloth or unbleached linen, tying 
  it with a leather thong and wearing it around the neck. 
  Similar pouches, called “hoodoo bags,” can contain a lock 
  from someone’s hair for a love charm or various herbs 
  for protection from a number of physical or spiritual ail-
  ments. Talismans are often made from stones or crystals 
  and wrapped with wire and hung from a strip of leather, 
  a silver or gold chain or a ribbon of a particular color. 
  These objects are either imbued with power (or Mana) or 
  else they draw their energy from the wearer’s own body. 
  These often serve as protections, such as the wearing of 
  a cross is thought to protect against vampires.
  The widespread familiarity of talisman use is found 
  in sources such as the English ballad “All Around My 
  Hat,” in which the singer wears green willow around 
  his or her hat for “a twelve month and a day” to keep a 
  wandering lover true, and in the American song “She 
  Wore a Yellow Ribbon,” which echoes the sentiment of 
  its British cousin.  
  Hoodoo and the Arcana: 
  an Awakened Interpretation
  When an Atlantean mage embraces the trappings 
  of Appalachian hoodoo magic, she uses her Arcana 
  by filtering them through hoodoo’s accepted forms in 
  order to get the benefits of the tradition. She can always 
  
  117
  CHAPTER FOUR: THE FRINGE
  cast spells in the normal fashion but doing so gains no 
  special benefits.  Many Awakened mages who opt for 
  Appalachian hoodoo do so because they live in an area 
  where such magic is less likely to draw the attention of 
  Seers, Banishers or other witchhunters.
  Though Appalachian hoodoo reached its peak in 
  the early years of the 20th century, diminishing as the 
  Appalachian region “caught up” with the science and 
  technology that so often displaces magic, a renewal of 
  the old ways is taking place as more and more educated 
  individuals reject the proliferation of technology and 
  try to recapture the values imbued in the knowledge of 
  their elders. Some believe that Atlantean mages are at the 
  heart of this renewal; others feel that the Awakened are 
  merely taking advantage of hoodoo’s rebirth to hide in 
  plain sight from rivals or enemies who might be focusing 
  so strictly on Atlantean magic that they miss or belittle 
  hoodoo’s homespun variety.
  When looked at through the principles of Appalachian 
  hoodoo, the Arcana sometimes undergo a distinctive 
  transformation in feel and emphasis, if not in effect.
  Death
  Ghosts are taken seriously in Appalachian folklore, 
  and Awakened mages who use the Death Arcanum are 
  both feared and respected because of their perceived 
  control over the realm of the dead. While some Atlan-
  tean mages might use Death magic to get rid of rivals 
  or to intimidate those around them, those who seek 
  credibility within the hoodoo community use Death 
  magic to lay ghosts (“haints”) to rest or to help, in some 
  circumstances, in solving mysteries surrounding the 
  death of an individual. 
  Spells like Death 1 “Forensic Gaze” (see Mage: the 
  Awakening, p. 134), used by an Awakened conjure 
  woman to determine the cause of death, might require 
  some ritual action involving either measuring the victim 
  or some other type of sympathetic magic to effect. Death 
  1 “Speak with the Dead” (p. 135) might have to take place 
  within a limited time after death or only during certain 
  times of the night or month in order to fit within the 
  confines of hoodoo. In a like fashion, Death 2 “Ghost 
  Summons” (p. 137), allowing the mage to call a specific 
  
  118
  ghost, would have similar conditions placed upon its use. 
  Death 3 “Quicken Corpse” (p. 140), the spell used to 
  create zombie servants from corpses, might borrow some 
  trappings from African elements of hoodoo magic.
  Fate
  The Fate Arcanum enables an Awakened mage to per-
  ceive the threads that link objects, places and creatures 
  together and, with that knowledge, to catch glimpses of a 
  likely future occurrence. To the hoodoo man, this insight 
  is known as the “second sight.” Even in Sleeper circles, 
  where magic is outright disbelieved or else shunned, 
  people with an uncanny sense of what the lucky lottery 
  numbers are or what days are best for taking certain ac-
  tions are often accepted at face value. The Awakened mage 
  keeps this in mind when he casts spells involving Fate, 
  for his is the power of prophesy and in the Appalachian 
  region, there is no shortage of prophets.
  Spells such as Fate 1 “Quantum Flux” (p. 148) and 
  “Reading the Outmost Eddies” (p. 149) may require only 
  that the Awakened mage acquire a reputation as some-
  one with the “second sight.” Other spells such as Fate 2 
  “Exceptional Luck” (p. 151) and “The Evil Eye” (p. 151) 
  may require visible components such as the wearing of a 
  talisman or the passing of an object between two people 
  or through another object. The passing of talismans or 
  charms also figure in spells such as Fate 3 “Bestow Excep-
  tional Luck” (p. 155) and “Grant Fortune’s Protection” 
  (p. 155), in keeping with the image of the wise man or 
  root woman handing out amulets or hoodoo bags to her 
  clients for their protection or to bring them luck.
  Forces
  Hoodoo magic has always enjoyed a reputation for 
  being connected with weather magic, finding water (dows-
  ing) and otherwise dealing with the world of elemental 
  forces. Whether acting as a rain bringer or predicting 
  a storm, calling lightning or seeking the best place to 
  sink a well, the conjure man has been able to help his 
  clients make their lives better. The hoodoo mage can 
  also use the power of wind and water, lightning and fire 
  to call down wrath upon her enemies. In order for an 
  Awakened mage to channel the Forces Arcanum through 
  the ways of Appalachian hoodoo, certain visual actions 
  or verbal charms must solidify the spell’s effects in the 
  mundane world.
  By chewing on the root of a nightblooming flower, an 
  Awakened mage can channel the Forces Arcanum for 
  casting Forces 1 “Nightsight” (p. 163). Forces 2 “Influence 
  Fire” (p. 166) may require the recitation of verses enjoin-
  ing the fire to stop, purify, or take some other action. 
  For other purposes, such as erecting a protective ward 
  against fire damage through Forces 2 “Unseen Shield” (p. 
  167), the mage may require the client to wear a particular 
  hoodoo bag containing a series of words arranged into a 
  diagram. To direct the elements to do the bidding of the 
  mage as in Forces 3 “Control Fire” (p. 168), the hoodoo 
  mage may need to recite a verse while passing three times 
  around the fire to be controlled.
  Life
  In many ways, Life magic is among the easiest of the 
  Arcana to cast within the purview of Appalachian hoo-
  doo. Perhaps 75% of the charm books that contain the 
  directions or spells used by conjure women and root 
  doctors throughout the mountains are involved with 
  healing everything from colic in babies to tapeworm 
  in animals and epilepsy in anyone. The ingredients 
  involved in doing Life magic include potions and teas 
  to drink, verses to be chanted, poultices for application 
  or some form of sympathetic magic as described above. 
  The persona of the healer commands great respect not 
  only in the mountains, where hospitals have been few 
  and far between until recent years, but in the lowlands 
  as well, where alternative medicines of all kinds are 
  enjoying a revival. 
  Spells like Life 1 “Healer’s Trance” (p. 181) require 
  little in the way of material amplification other than put-
  ting a hand to a sick person’s forehead or conducting a 
  cursory examination (for show) of a wound. A hoodoo 
  mage’s clients accept his diagnostic powers thus lower-
  ing any incidence of Paradox. Life 2 “Heal Flora and 
  Fauna” (p. 182) and “Purify Bodies” (p. 183) form one of 
  the staples of Appalachian hoodoo, for the root doctor 
  or conjure woman spends a great deal of time making 
  plants and herbs flourish, serving as a veterinarian for 
  the small-time farmers in the mountains and providing 
  cures for hangovers, and other bodily toxins, including 
  snakebite and drug overdoses. Many of the folk remedies 
  found in books such as Long Lost Friend (see above) pro-
  vide detailed instructions for how to conduct purges of 
  toxins or how to ease the ills of horses, goats, dogs and 
  other animals. Whether preparing a special mash for a 
  colicky horse or a wrap for a foundered mare, fixing a 
  foul-tasting herbal tea for a man poisoned by bad moon-
  shine or giving a farmer a charmed verse to take home 
  to recite over his chickens to make them lay more eggs, 
  the likelihood that Life magic in the guise of hoodoo 
  performed by an Awakened mage will succeed is often 
  greater than its probability of failure. Life 3 “Banish 
  Plague” (p. 185) and “Healing Heart” (p. 186) provide 
  even greater examples of healing, allowing the mage to 
  deal with cases of multiple outbreaks of sickness before 
  they become epidemic in nature or to staunch the wounds 
  
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  CHAPTER FOUR: THE FRINGE
  of humans and cause them to heal quickly and cleanly. 
  Many of these cures include prayers and supplications 
  to God and the saints, a deep-seated testimony to the 
  power of religion in this tradition.
  Matter
  The Matter Arcanum concerns itself with non-living ob-
  jects, including the elements, alchemical materials, made 
  and naturally-occurring objects, and the transformation 
  of one thing into another. Where Fate magic may help 
  you win the lottery, Matter magic can turn rocks into 
  coin or paper into 100 dollar bills — at least in theory. 
  Although primarily called upon to heal or harm others 
  or to help in matters of love and money, hoodoo mages 
  are sometimes asked to make or find things, such as 
  money, metal or water. This type of magic requires more 
  props for the Atlantean descendant to use as a means of 
  focusing Mana. Those who seek out a conjure man to 
  help them fine an ore lode beneath their property expect 
  to see him out there with a metal finding stick (wand) 
  or some other item of magical sensing.  
  Matter 1 “Detect Substance” (p. 195) can serve the 
  Atlantean mage as a basis for both finding metals or 
  dowsing for well-quality water. The difference is in the 
  composition of the “wand” or dowsing stick used in the 
  process or the verse used when performing the search. 
  Long Lost Friend contains directions for crafting a wand 
  for finding metal or water, including when and where to 
  find an appropriate forked stick, how to hold it (by the 
  two forked ends) and what prayers or verses to recite. An 
  interesting and popular use of the Matter 2 “Transmute 
  Water” (p. 197) spell involves the clandestine business 
  of distilling moonshine. With the power of the Matter 
  Arcanum, a hoodoo mage can mix up her own form of 
  moonshine without a fancy still (or even a clunky cobbled 
  together one). All she needs is something to appear as 
  the effective transformative tool. A cheap coffee maker 
  will do in a pinch. Matter specialists can make a local 
  name for themselves as “makers” and “fixers.” The spell 
  Matter 3 “Repair Object” (p. 199) enables the mage to 
  repair broken objects, some of them utterly beyond 
  help without magical assistance. While pure Atlantean 
  magic requires only that the mage touch the object to be 
  repaired, hoodoo magic requires some actual work (or 
  the appearance thereof) on the object.  
  Mind
  The bulk of Appalachian hoodoo concerns itself with 
  physical substances — healing the body, finding water or 
  rare metals, or nudging the laws of probability. When 
  using the hoodoo tradition, Atlantean mages use another 
  side of the tradition to draw on the Mind Arcanum. Al-
  though “second sight” also falls under the aegis of Fate 
  magic, hoodoo mages call on Mind to read a person’s 
  emotional state of being or general mental health, to 
  sense the presence of others, to determine if a mind is 
  still present in an otherwise dead body or to affect and 
  control the minds of others, including animals. Mind 
  magic is behind mental attacks on another person and 
  defending oneself against such attacks. It is one of the 
  forms of magic most feared by the locals and gives the 
  conjure woman or root doctor such a palpable aura of 
  power and, often, menace.
  Mind 1 “Aura Perception” (p. 205) enables the Atlan-
  tean hoodoo mage to diagnose an individual’s current 
  state of mind, thus assisting in further treatments (either 
  mundane or magical) of the person’s condition. In order 
  to effect this spell through the hoodoo tradition, the mage 
  needs to use some physical trigger, such as a feather to 
  brush over the person’s face or an ointment to place in 
  her own eyes to “open their sight.” In a similar fashion, 
  the spell Mind 1 “Third Eye” (p. 206) enables the mage, 
  using appropriate physical or verbal triggers (verses or 
  rhymes), to sense whether others in the vicinity are using 
  supernatural powers such as telepathy, clairvoyance or 
  other mental forms of perception. This allows the hoodoo 
  mage to discover others like her or potentially like her. 
  She can also tell from this whether or not anyone else is 
  interfering with or otherwise affecting her own workings. 
  An Atlantean hoodoo mage casts her own Mind 2 “Mental 
  Shield” (p. 208) by reciting a verse calling upon the Trin-
  ity to protect her mind from attack, with the caveat that 
  only a person who is stronger than “the Father, Son and 
  Holy Spirit” may attack her. Hoodoo mages from pagan 
  traditions substitute their own trinity. This incantation 
  usually requires a battery of prayers afterward to ensure 
  its efficacy. Using Mind 3 “Mental Wall” (p. 211), the 
  mage can extend this protection to another person who 
  might be under attack. Provided she has some item to use 
  as a focus for sympathetic magic, an Atlantean hoodoo 
  mage can conduct her own mental and psychic attacks 
  using Mind 3 “Psychic Assault” (p. 212). 
  Prime
  According to the hoodoo tradition, just as in Atlantean 
  magic, the world contains a wealth of power. Whether 
  detecting power residing in an item or person or find-
  ing the lines of power that criss-cross the earth, hoodoo 
  mages know they depend on the ambient power of the 
  world (though they may not call it that) and Atlantean 
  practitioners realize that Prime magic enables them to 
  keep in touch with the Supernal World. When people feel 
  they are under attack by a witch or by malign spirits, they 
  sometimes seek out the local conjure man or woman for 
  
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  assistance, and by using the magic of Prime, the Atlantean 
  hoodoo mage can give that protection to another.
  Through using Prime 1 “Analyze Enchanted Item” (p. 
  219), an Atlantean hoodoo mage can detect the presence 
  of charms or hexes on another person and can thus 
  advise a petitioner to rid herself of “that bauble given 
  to you by the man you think is courting you” or to use 
  some of her own magic to counter a hexed item. Prime 
  1 “Supernal Vision” (p. 221) gives the mage the ability to 
  see the magical resonances that lace the world, including 
  ley lines, sources of Mana and other magical essences. 
  The strictures of the hoodoo tradition require the use of 
  enchanted talismans or ointments to enable this sight. 
  Similar to Mind 2 “Mental Shield,” above, the hoodoo 
  mage can use the spell Prime 2 “Magic Shield” (p. 222) 
  to protect herself from outside magic of any variety, 
  whether from a magical bolt of lightning or a psychic 
  attack. Again, the mage must use the proper formulaic 
  verse, often combined with a physical sign, such as the 
  brandishing of crossed fingers or pointing a finger. If 
  the attacker is known, inserting his name into the verse 
  (“Adamarius, your works cannot stand against me by the 
  protection of the Lord…”). By using Prime 3 “Armor of 
  the Soul” (p. 223), a mage can shield another person 
  from attacks against their soul by malignant spirits or 
  Death mages. The mage needs to write a sacred verse 
  from the appropriate page of her spellbook onto a piece 
  of paper and give it to the victim to carry on his person 
  at all times or until the danger is over.   
  The potency of wielding Prime as an attack through the 
  use of Prime 3 “Celestial Fire” (p. 224) is not lessened in 
  the hoodoo tradition. Casting a ball of pure Prime requires 
  a physical trigger such as a specially made wand as well as 
  an empowering verse, often in the name of the Trinity, 
  and it is no less vulgar than doing so using Atlantean 
  magic alone. Nevertheless, when two opposed mages are 
  duking it out or when a hoodoo mage faces a Twilight 
  enemy that cannot otherwise be hurt, considerations of 
  vulgar magic’s repercussions often go by the boards.
  Space
  Space magic is one of the most practically useful mag-
  ics in terms of its application in daily life. Some conjure 
  mages or root doctors have a sideline as a “finder,” or 
  person who finds lost objects or people. Space magic, with 
  its premise that distance is an illusion of perception and 
  that all spaces are linked together and are essentially the 
  same space, makes the use of sympathetic and other forms 
  of magic more powerful when used in conjunction with 
  this Arcanum. Thus, the hoodoo mage who is versed in 
  the Space Arcanum can find what is lost, track items or 
  people and even ease a journey for the journeyer.
  Using the spell Space 1 “Finder” (p. 233), the Atlantean 
  hoodoo mage can track down a lost item within her im-
  mediate range. This is also known as the “lost keys” spell, 
  and is useful for hunting down objects that may be hard 
  to spot otherwise. A simple verse such as, “Come hither, 
  come hither in foul or fair weather,” repeated three times 
  while concentrating on the desired object might be all 
  that is necessary for this working. With the acquisition 
  of another dot in the Space Arcanum, the hoodoo mage 
  can combine this spell with some sympathetic magic to 
  find an object regardless of how far away it is. The further 
  addition of the Life Arcanum enables the mage to locate 
  a missing person, whether a runaway child or a fugitive 
  from the law. Space 1 “Correspondence” (p. 232) enables 
  the mage to determine the existence of and the strength 
  of sympathetic connections that exist between people, 
  places and things, thus finding out if a client who comes 
  to her for help is sympathetically (in the magical sense) 
  bound to a person who might wish her harm. This spell 
  can also suss out people sent to spy on the mage who 
  are magically connected to the person they are working 
  for. A verse for recognizing enemies or seeing the “ties 
  that bind” may be necessary for this spell in the hoodoo 
  tradition. The Atlantean hoodoo mage can use Space 2 
  “Scrying” (p. 235) to view another place by employing 
  any of the hoodoo tradition’s typical scrying devices, 
  such as a bowl of water that has been passed three times 
  through a flame, or a crystal ball blessed in the name 
  of the Trinity. Space magic can also serve to destroy the 
  threads of a sympathetic connection through Space 3 
  “Destroy the Threads” (p. 237). The magic is activated 
  through the use of a verbal charm such as “Whether ye 
  go on horse or heel, your magic is severed, your wicked-
  ness revealed. Begone, begone, begone!” 
  Spirit
  Appalachian folk tradition is riddled with tales of 
  ghosts, while both Native American and African folk 
  tales deal with the spirits of animals and plants, as well 
  as spirits of the dead and malevolent or benevolent 
  spirits from the over- or underworlds. Legends of spoiled 
  milk caused by mischievous “fair folk” or “little people” 
  abound as well as tales of demons possessing otherwise 
  good people and causing them to perform all manner 
  of wicked deeds. The Spirit Arcanum is one of the most 
  useful types of magic an Atlantean mage can know when 
  working in the hoodoo tradition, which deals as often 
  with healing the spirit as with healing the body or mind. 
  This is the magic that deals in protections against the 
  evil of the Abyss (in Atlantean terms) or the demons of 
  Hell (in the Judeo-Christian terminology more familiar to 
  the Appalachian region). On the darker side, this is the 
  
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  magic used by hoodoo witches to call upon malevolent 
  spirits to empower them or do harm to their enemies. 
  Appalachian hoodoo sees Spirit magic as something to 
  be dealt with almost every day.
  The spell Spirit 1 “Coaxing the Spirits” (p. 245) al-
  lows the Atlantean hoodoo mage to nudge the spirit 
  sleeping in a material object so that certain tasks can 
  be performed easier. Some folk believe that a hoodoo 
  man or woman’s locks never rust, her clocks always run 
  on time and her whittling knife never loses its edge or 
  its accuracy. There are little tunes or ditties that the 
  hoodoo mage hums or sings under her breath to boost 
  the spirits (so to speak) of her household items to coax 
  them to work more efficiently. Spirit 1 “Exorcist’s Eye” 
  (p. 245) allows the mage to determine whether or not an 
  animal or human is possessed by a malignant spirit. This 
  is usually done through the use of holy names and the 
  sprinkling of pure or blessed water on the subject. This 
  is usually done prior to an exorcism (see below). Spirit 2 
  “Ephemeral Shield” (p. 246) can protect the hoodoo mage 
  from attack by spirits. Casting this spell is accomplished 
  Atlantean Paths and Hoodoo: Matches Made in Heaven
  Appalachian hoodoo covers a lot of territory, and, as with any broad field of study, specialists 
  exist who focus most of their attention on a particular aspect of hoodoo magic. For Atlantean mag-
  es who choose to work within the Appalachian hoodoo tradition, these specialties often (though not 
  always) correspond to the mage’s Path.
  Mages who follow the Path of Acanthus, which treats primarily with Fate and Time, often focus 
  their hoodoo magic on charms and hexes, dealing in both good and bad fortunes. They also use 
  the Time Arcanum for predictive purposes, looking into the future for their clients. They are the 
  most likely to set themselves up as the modern day version of the traveling snake oil salesman, 
  with real snakes and bona fide oil!
  Followers of the Path of Mastigos, with their emphases on the Mind and Space Arcana, may 
  excel in certain forms of divination and scrying as well as in treating mental problems and magical 
  bindings. They may also create charms and potions to change the minds of others, creating love 
  potions and other mind-affecting items.
  Mages belonging to the Path of Moros, who focus on the Death and Matter Arcana, may deal 
  with ghosts and their summoning or banishing, or they may set themselves up as “fixers,” who can 
  take something broken and make it better than new. 
  Obrimos mages, with their propensity for Forces and Prime, often become weather witches, or 
  dowsers, using their affinity for power sources and the elements to call rain (or stop it) or to find 
  good water under the ground. 
  Lastly, mages of the Path of Thyrsus, who study Life and Spirit, usually find themselves attracted 
  to the ways of folk healing and herbal lore as well as the summoning and banishing of spirits.
  These divisions are not mandatory, of course. Instead they provide ways for players of mage 
  characters who wish to investigate the Appalachian hoodoo tradition to tailor their characters and 
  personalize their spells.
  through speaking words of power (either names of God, 
  saints’ names or other revered deities) and the use of a 
  ritual ablution or bath (not necessarily full immersion) 
  that washes significant parts of the body, usually those 
  involving openings such as eyes, ears, nose, mouth and 
  anal/genital regions, but also including heart, hands and 
  feet. Afterwards, precious oils or herbal tinctures are ap-
  plied to the body and the protective verses are spoken. 
  The actual spell Spirit 3 “Exorcism” (p. 248) enables the 
  hoodoo mage to drive a spirit out of a living body or a 
  material object. The ritual actions needed to evoke Spirit 2 
  “Ephemeral Shield” (p. 248) are also part of the exorcism 
  ritual if they have not already been performed. The actual 
  driving out of the spirit involves a stern admonition of 
  the spirit by the exorciser and sometimes involves physi-
  cal actions such as the striking of the body with a switch 
  taken from a living willow tree and immersed three times 
  in pure water. Causing harm to the possessed entity is 
  not the object of the blows, but the transference of the 
  exorcising power from the exorciser to the spirit takes 
  place when the switch strikes its target.  
  
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  Time
  The mountains of Appalachia may hold many time-
  less qualities, but the Atlantean mage working in the 
  hoodoo tradition can certainly make good use of the 
  Time Arcanum in his spell workings. While mages of 
  any tradition, Atlantean or Sleeper folk tradition, are 
  usually reluctant to tamper too blatantly with the past 
  or the future — enough cautionary tales exist to warn 
  about that — most mages with some abilities in the Time 
  Arcanum don’t mind tinkering about with small incre-
  ments of time or participating in the “look, but don’t 
  touch” theory of time “travel.” 
  The Time 1 “Perfect Timing” (p. 258) spell is useful as an 
  augmentation to the performance of other time-dependent 
  tasks. Herbs that must be gathered at precisely the full of 
  the moon or within five minutes of the sun’s passage from 
  Cancer to Leo, verses that must be said at specific times of 
  day to maintain a ward or enchantment or even knowing 
  when to release a dart in a local game at the county fair are 
  possible uses for the spell. The use of fast-growing herbs 
  or the recitation of a particular verse three times in one 
  breath can be used to trigger the spell. A hoodoo mage 
  can look briefly into the future through the spell Time 2 
  “Augury” (p. 258) to find out if a certain action will take 
  place, such as a marriage between two people or whether 
  or not a murderer will kill again. As with Space 2 “Scry-
  ing,” the mage generally uses something like a mirror or 
  bowl of water to effect this spell, which can be augmented 
  for greater accuracy by the addition of a sympathetic tie 
  between the mage and the person whose future is in 
  question. Time 3 “Divination” (p. 263) enables a much 
  more extensive and accurate prediction of the future and 
  requires a more elaborate method of casting, with more 
  complex recitations, strong sympathetic ties and a specially 
  prepared focusing device (mirror, bowl, etc.).
  The Symbols of Appalachian Hoodoo
  Born from a mixing of European folk, Native American 
  shamanic and African root magic, Appalachian hoodoo 
  borrows symbols from all its ancestral traditions. While 
  these symbols are many and varied, there are a few 
  commonalities that bring them together in some broad 
  categories.
  Religious Iconography
  The use of prayers, religious writings, the cross, the Bible 
  and other symbols of the Christian religion (though not 
  exclusively) are common to Appalachian hoodoo. Many of 
  its European practitioners were Christians, at least until 
  the Church declared them witches and heretics, and the 
  symbols of Christianity held both meaning and power 
  Merit: Seventh Son/Daughter of a 
  Seventh Son/Daughter (••••)
  Effect: Your character was born on the 
  verge of Awakening and has a natural af-
  finity for magic. He seems to live a charmed 
  life, since his status as seventh son of a 
  seventh son is known to everyone in the 
  community, or at least to friends of the fam-
  ily. He may Awaken in the normal course of 
  events, either due to some traumatic event 
  or through a natural occurrence. He may 
  even join the community of Pentacle mages, 
  associating himself with an order and fulfill-
  ing a role appropriate to his Path.
  The real benefits of his birth order, how-
  ever, come when he embraces the Appa-
  lachian hoodoo tradition as his method of 
  working magic. Here, his affinity for magic 
  really shines and he pulls ahead of his 
  Atlantean peers. This Merit, when used in 
  conjunction with hoodoo magic (and the 
  Magical Tradition Merit), provides the fol-
  lowing benefits for the caster:
  • +1 dot to any protection spell against at-
  tacks using Mind, Prime or Spirit. The mage 
  treats his magical defense as being one dot 
  stronger than it would be otherwise.
  • +1 to the dice pool for any rolls involv-
  ing scrying, divining or locating.
  • Once per story, the character can roll Wits 
  + Composure and gain an effect similar to the 
  Time 1 “Perfect Timing” spell (see Mage, p. 
  258), representing natural good luck. 
  for them. The Bible itself became a symbol of power, not 
  so much for the words it contained, but because it was 
  a sacred book, one that had accrued magical energy or 
  Mana through many centuries of being associated with 
  the “word of God.” Another reason that the Bible is 
  powerful, apart from its strictly Judeo-Christian associa-
  tion, is the fact that it is a book — and not just any book. 
  The Bible, in Appalachian hoodoo, with its stories of 
  patriarchs and prophets calling down the wrath of God 
  and its message of good prevailing over evil, is a hatching 
  book for spells.
  Crosses and other religious symbols, particularly those 
  that pertain to the Trinity, also carry a heavy weight 
  
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  CHAPTER FOUR: THE FRINGE
  in Appalachian hoodoo. They are used as protection 
  against evil spirits and evil creatures, as wards against 
  disease and as reminders that they are on the side of 
  good. Practitioners of a darker sort of hoodoo may use 
  the obverse of these symbols to cast hexes and curses or 
  avert their enemies’ gaze. 
  Herbal Vocabulary
  A good part of Appalachian hoodoo is involved with 
  herbs and herbal concoctions. Many instructions for cast-
  ing spells involve finding or preparing certain herbs and 
  using wood from certain trees. Some spell books used in 
  Appalachian hoodoo read more like recipe books than 
  books of arcane directions. Herbs and plants mentioned in 
  Hohman’s Long Lost Friend include rose seeds, iron-weed, 
  cherry wood, blackberry bushes, knot-grass, spicewort, 
  cloves, flax-seed, mulberry, stinging nettles, millifolia, 
  heliotrope (sunflower), swallow-wort and birch bark. 
  Not only do the herbs have meaning in their healing 
  or harming properties but they also have a symbolic 
  meaning harkening back to the language of flowers and 
  herbs used in the Middle Ages.
  Numbers of Power: the Seventh Son
  The power of three has already been noted as important 
  in Appalachian hoodoo. One of the most highly regarded 
  numbers in Appalachian hoodoo, however, is seven, par-
  ticularly when used in combination with birth order. Thus 
  the seventh son or daughter or the seventh son of a seventh 
  son (or daughter) is regarded as a person of destiny and 
  power, one born to the ways of hoodoo magic, a natural 
  healer, a prophet or any number of other things. 
  Foci
  The herbs used in what might be called “recipe spells” 
  are one type of focus necessary for the casting of hoodoo 
  magic. Mostly used in healing spells or potions for hu-
  mans and animals, herbs are also used as magical wards 
  against creatures or spirits that are repelled by them or as 
  attractors in love potions or charms. Appalachian hoodoo 
  uses not only the herbs known by European witches but 
  also the plants and herbs familiar to the Native Ameri-
  can shamans and the root magics of Africa. Ginseng or 
  “sang,” John the conqueror root or Ipomoea jalapa, are 
  two of the most common magical herbs. 
  
  124
  Wands are also used in Appalachian hoodoo for a 
  number of purposes. The most well-known “wand” is the 
  dowsing stick, which, according to one source, must be 
  made from a tree of one year’s growth. Dowsing sticks 
  or rods can find not only water, but precious metals as 
  well. Wands are also used for divination.
  Not only are books like the Bible and spell books used 
  as sources for magical knowledge, the books themselves 
  are often a focus for magic. An enjoinment at the end 
  of Long Lost Friend states a list of protections that cover 
  anyone who carries the book with him. In this case, the 
  book itself becomes the focus, just as if it were a charm 
  or amulet. 
  Prayers and rhymes are often used as foci and many 
  spells depend on their precise repetition either a certain 
  number of times or at certain times of the day, month or 
  season or in a single breath. The ancient view of words 
  as inherently powerful survives in Appalachian hoodoo. 
  In some instances, Sleeper believers may serve as foci, 
  particularly if a spell centers upon them.  
  Rotes
  Locate Node (Prime ••)
  The African spirit Eshu often appears to travelers at 
  places where two roads cross. Similarly, Hermes (for the 
  Greeks) or Mercury (for the Romans) was associated 
  with crossroads, as was the Christian St. Simon. Magic 
  or Mana gathers here in larger clusters than at normal 
  crossings, for crossroads are not just where two roads 
  meet. They are where two ley lines or lines of power 
  intersect one another, called a “node” by mages. Using 
  a wand made specifically for this purpose, the mage can 
  locate the nearest ley line node.
  Practice: Unveiling
  Action: Instant
  Duration: Prolonged (one scene)
  Aspect: Covert
  Cost: None
  Successes apply to the spell’s duration factors. While 
  the spell is active, the mage can make instant-action Wits 
  + Occult perception rolls to scrutinize the immediate 
  area’s Resonance (within sensory range) for the tale-tell 
  signs of a node, where two or more ley lines meet. 
  Hoodoo Rote: Find Crossroads 
  Dice Pool: Wits + Occult + Prime
  This rote must employ a wand created specifically for 
  this purpose, though it can be used over and over so long 
  as it remains dedicated to finding crossroads. The wand 
  must be made from a tree made by the natural joining of 
  two saplings of different types. It must lie beneath a full 
  moon for three consecutive nights in three consecutive 
  months. When looking for the crossroads, the mage 
  must speak the name of whichever crossroads deity or 
  saint she holds dearest, followed by “show me the way 
  of power” three times before starting out.
  Bind the Wayward Body 
  (Life •••• + Space •)  
  The mountains have harbored many a fugitive in its 
  hollers and caves thoughout the years. Some have never 
  been brought to justice. Others have fallen prey to this 
  powerful piece of hoodoo magic. This spell enables the 
  mage to literally stop a fugitive in his tracks, rendering 
  the person unable to move forward or backward for a 
  period of time that is usually just long enough for his 
  pursuers to catch him.
  Practice: Unraveling
  Action: Instant and contested; target rolls Resolve 
  + Gnosis
  Duration: Transitory against mages, Prolonged against 
  Sleepers (until released by the caster)
  Aspect: Vulgar
  Cost: 1 Mana
  Success means that the target cannot move more 
  than three yards in any direction from the place he was 
  standing/sitting when the spell takes effect. If he’s a 
  mage, the spell lasts for only one turn. If he’s a Sleeper, 
  the spell lasts for one scene or until he’s released by the 
  following phrase from the mage’s own mouth: “As you 
  have been bound, now you are free.” Of course, by that 
  time, the fugitive should be free only to accompany his 
  captors to jail.
  A Life 3 version of this spell targets animals.
  Hoodoo Rote: Pillar of Salt
  Dice Pool: Manipulation + Persuasion + Life vs. Re-
  solve + Gnosis
  The mage must follow the fugitive, who needs to be 
  within line of sight (unless Space 2 is added to the cast-
  ing). As she travels, she repeats a prayer similar to the 
  following: Peter, Paul and all the Apostles, be my witness to 
  God’s power which binds all rogues, thieves, murderers and 
  fugitives who seek to hide from justice. In particular, let Thy 
  power find [name of fugitive or some other form of specific 
  identification, such as “the man who robbed the Big Ivy 
  branch bank last night”] and bind him with fetters of guilt. 
  Let him not step forward. Let him not step backward. Let him 
  breathe but not speak until such time as he is released by me.
  The mage must say this prayer (or whichever one she 
  uses) three times. When she comes in sight of the fugi-
  
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  tive, she must point her hand and clench it into a fist. 
  As her hand tightens, the muscles of the fugitive will 
  tighten until he cannot move.
  Magic Items
  Objects play a big part in Appalachian hoodoo, from 
  hoodoo bags, amulets, dowsing wands and written charms 
  to musical instruments, sacred books and other more 
  powerful items. Below are a few sample magic items, some 
  of which are presented in more than one format. 
  Harp of the Highlands
  The series of Silver John novels by Manly Wade Well-
  man tell of a wandering storyteller and balladeer famous 
  for his songs and his silver-strung guitar. Though the 
  author does not directly mention any power associated 
  with John’s guitar, the implications are strong that it is 
  something more than just a normal instrument. Music 
  plays a large part in Appalachian culture and many 
  people, regardless of their daytime careers, play an in-
  strument. Much of Appalachian history is wrapped up 
  in its ballads, so keeping the singing tradition alive in 
  the region is one way of maintaining a dynamic history 
  of the area. It is only natural to suppose that, over the 
  years, some instruments have been crafted by mages to 
  augment or focus their magic. Some of these items are 
  initially destined to be magical; others are later imbued 
  with a spell or spells. Still others fall prey to some evil 
  working or tragic circumstance and act as a container 
  for a malevolent spirit.
  The Harp of the Highlands hails not from the High-
  lands of Scotland but from the town of Highlands in 
  Western North Carolina. It is a lap harp of masterwork 
  quality, made from seven different woods inlaid in in-
  tricate designs reminiscent of the outlines of leaves and 
  mountains. The strings of this harp never seem to need 
  tuning and it fits naturally and comfortably on the lap of 
  its owner. The sounds that come from the harp are true 
  and haunting and sometimes it seems to have its own 
  voice, harmonizing with the singer. Few who listen to the 
  harp come away from it untouched, as the instrument 
  seems to radiate the emotions inherent in whatever song 
  is being played upon it. 
  Harp of the Highlands as Artifact (••••)
  Durability 3, Size 2, Structure 5
  Mana Capacity: maximum 12
  Said to be brought to the Appalachians from Arca-
  dia by a lord of the fae, this elegantly made lap harp 
  contains the voice of the lord’s human lover, a woman 
  with a wondrous voice who, when she knew she was 
  dying of a wasting disease, asked that her voice live 
  on after her. 
  Whoever plays this harp, if he is Awakened, gains the 
  benefits of any one of the following spells per song played: 
  Mind 1 “Third Eye” (see Mage: the Awakening, p. 206), 
  Mind 2 “Emotional Urging” (p. 207), Mind 2 “First Im-
  pressions” (p. 208), or Mind 2 “Misperception” (p. 209). 
  Simply holding the harp gives the possessor the benefit 
  of a Mind 2 “Mental Shield” (p. 208). Finally, the harp 
  provides the user with the answers to three lore-based 
  questions per week, pulling up a ballad that contains the 
  information, though sometimes in a cryptic fashion. 
  The harp cannot be broken by normal means and 
  demonstrates an odd capability of healing itself, filling 
  in scratches and nicks overnight. It also occasionally gives 
  its possessor visions of a place that might be Arcadia as 
  it still exists in the Supernal World.
  Harp of the Highlands as Cursed Item 
  Let no one draw forth music from these strings without 
  remembering his darkest day or his greatest loss. Let each song 
  draw forth his life in misery so that he ends his days before his 
  appointed time. Let my fate be his fate.
  Jubal Curtis was a carver of instruments and a player 
  of them as well. Deciding to seek his fortune as a travel-
  ing musician, he poured his heart into the creation of a 
  lap harp meant to seal his success. As he made a name 
  for himself, he forgot the people who helped him on his 
  way to success. He even forgot that part of his talent lay 
  in the virtuosity of his instrument. 
  One night, a second-rate musician even more unprincipled 
  than Jubal entered his hotel room one night and stabbed 
  him, grabbed the harp and turned to flee. As his life blood 
  poured from him, Jubal uttered a dying curse that opened 
  the doorway for a spirit of anger and vengeance to take up 
  residence in the harp. Since then, the instrument has success-
  fully ruined the lives and caused the early deaths of everyone 
  who has ever come into ownership with it. It frequently turns 
  up in pawn shops, where it rarely stays for more than three 
  days before someone lovingly carries it away.
  This lap harp is handsomely crafted from seven differ-
  ent kinds of inlaid wood: cherry, rosewood, ash, ebony, 
  mahogany, teak and cedar. It has never been known to 
  go out of tune, nor has one of its strings ever broken. No 
  one remembers precisely when it was made. 
  Every one who has claimed this harp as their own has 
  died from profound depression, suicide or violence within 
  a year of taking the harp. Jubal’s dying curse opened the 
  way across the Gauntlet for a Twilight spirit who has 
  made his home within the harp and is able to coax the 
  life from its player and torment his memories as well. 
  
  126
  Rank: 2
  Attributes: Power 3, Finesse 3, Resistance 2
  Willpower: 6
  Essence: 15 (max 15)
  Initiative: 5
  Defense: 3
  Speed: 7
  Size: 3
  Corpus: 5
  Influence: Anger (murderous)
  Numina: Fetter, Harrow
  Ban: The spirit may only attack someone who has 
  acquired the harp and wants to use it to further 
  his career.
  The Book of Safe Journeys
  Brought to the mountains of eastern Tennessee by one 
  of the region’s earliest settler families of Celtic stock, 
  The Book of Safe Journeys, or Charms and Receipts [sic] for 
  the Well-Being of Body and Soul in Its Passage Through Life
  is a potent catalogue of hoodoo spells, herbal healing, 
  protection rituals and instructions for making wands, 
  hoodoo pouches, poultices and other useful and magical 
  items. Handed down from seventh child to seventh child 
  until the family line stopped suddenly in the mid-1920s, 
  the book disappeared from sight and, with it, some of 
  the precious knowledge contained within. Every now 
  and then, someone reports hearing of a hoodoo witch 
  or conjure man who possesses a copy, but all attempts 
  to find it have resulted in failure. Though some fair cop-
  ies of the book exist, made with the permission of the 
  family that owned the book and likewise handed down, 
  only the original book is said to hold power apart from 
  its contents. 
  The Book of Safe Journeys as Artifact (•••••)
  Durability 2, Size 1, Structure 3
  Mana Capacity: maximum 15
  An old legend tells how when God drove Adam and 
  Eve from the Garden of Eden, one of the angels took 
  pity on them and placed into their hands a scroll that 
  contained the knowledge necessary for these first humans 
  to survive in an unfriendly and unfamiliar world. As the 
  years passed, the scroll changed form until it became the 
  
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  CHAPTER FOUR: THE FRINGE
  leather-bound volume that arrived in Tennessee in the 
  early 1700s. 
  The possessor of this book gains the benefit of all 
  the shield spells, including Death 2 “Entropic Guard” 
  (see Mage: the Awakening, p. 136), Fate 2 “Fortune’s 
  Protection” (p. 152), Forces 2 “Unseen Shield” (p. 167), 
  Life 3 “Organic Resilience” (p. 183), Matter 2 “Unseen 
  Aegis” (p. 197), Mind 2 “Mental Shield” (p. 208), Prime 
  2 “Magic Shield” (p. 222), Space 2 “Untouchable” (p. 
  235), Spirit 2 “Ephemeral Shield” (p. 246) and Time 
  2 “Temporal Dodge” (p. 261). In addition, any spell 
  contained in the book, when cast exactly as written, has 
  no chance of failing (always has one success). The book 
  itself is impervious to the effects of physical decay and 
  cannot be destroyed by non-magical forces. In the hands 
  of a seventh son or daughter, the book reveals the true 
  form of anyone who come within 30 feet of it. 
  The Book of Safe Journeys as Cursed Item 
  Everything in these pages is yours for an agreed upon payment. 
  Don’t complain about my asking prices. I’ve already paid a 
  price you would never pay.
  The Cottaher family of Windswept Gorge, Tennessee, 
  were well known as healers and hoodoo makers and Papa 
  Cottaher even kept ties with folk from all over Europe. 
  Word had it that most of Papa Cottaher’s hoodoo came 
  from a book he brought with him from the Old Country, 
  a hide-bound collection of loose papers called The Book 
  of Safe Journeys. 
  When Jerub Cottaher took up the gift after the death 
  of his father, in the mid 1800s, things changed. Jerub 
  wasn’t anywhere near the conjuror his daddy was. The 
  fancy folk stopped visiting, and Jerub was heard to say 
  that he was better off without them. 
  Only he wasn’t. His charms failed, his healings didn’t 
  take. Even his love potions backfired. Then he started ask-
  ing for money for his spells, which his father never did. 
  One night a neighbor saw Jerub leave his cabin with 
  his book tucked under his arm and a white goat tied to 
  a rope he held in his other hand. Jerub returned home 
  without the goat but with a smile on his face.
  After that, his magic worked every time. His prices 
  went up and people paid them, but no one considered 
  him a friend. Jerub never married or had children. One 
  morning his body was found rotting in his cabin, a look 
  of terror on his face. The book was missing. 
  Jerub’s actual tale is a sad but cautionary one. Unlike 
  the other mages in his family, Jerub never Awakened. 
  Despondent and greedy, he went to the crossroads and 
  sacrificed the white goat. A spirit from the Abyss appeared 
  and took possession of the book and of Jerub’s soul. As 
  he aged. Jerub realized what he had done, but it was too 
  late. He died in agony and terror, his soul a victim of his 
  own deal with the “devil.”
  The Book of Safe Journeys is really a collection of loose 
  parchments wrapped in a handsome, soft grey leather 
  binding and tied with a cord of sturdy silk and silver and 
  gold thread and wire. When touched, it seems to vibrate 
  and a distinct feeling of unease travels into the person 
  touching the book. 
  An Abyssal spirit of Corruption inhabits The Book of 
  Safe Journeys, turning it into a book of foul workings. 
  Anyone who claims the book immediately gains a false 
  Awakening and is able to cast any of the spells in the book. 
  Though every spell works, each spell has a drawback. A 
  healing spell may rid the target of his fever, but lay the 
  groundwork for an emergence of cancer the next year. 
  The book also depletes the life of its holder, who ages 
  prematurely and dies in terror. To break this curse, the 
  spirit that inhabits the book must be named and driven 
  out by an Awakened mage. 
  Rank: 3
  Attributes: Power 4, Finesse 2, Resistance 2
  Willpower: 6
  Essence: 15 (max 15)
  Initiative: 4
  Defense: 4
  Speed: 6
  Size: 1
  Corpus: 3
  Influence: Corruption  
  Numina: Fetter, Ill Luck, as in Fate 3 “Monkey’s 
  Paw” (see Mage, p. 155), Terrify
  Ban: The spirit may only work through the book 
  and cannot act outside the limitations of the book’s 
  contents — except to drain the life from the possessor 
  of the book.
  Dr. Hardy’s Comfort Packets
  In an age of holistic, homeopathic and herbal medi-
  cines, aromatherapy and essential essences, many people 
  turn to these cures to help them in everything from reliev-
  ing stress to losing weight to curing cancer. Dr. Hardy, 
  an Awakened medical doctor who also dispenses herbal 
  cures taught to him by his conjure woman mother, has 
  developed these small pouches or “packets” of herbs and 
  other substances which he gives to needy patients for 
  the cost of the ingredients. These comfort packets can 
  perform any one of a number of magical effects when 
  used according to the doctor’s directions. Among their 
  effects are: healing one Health point per packet (no more 
  
  128
  than two per week can be taken without suffering from 
  total exhaustion due to the strain on the body’s healing 
  system); raising one Attribute for 24 hours (no more than 
  two packets can be used on the same Attribute in any 
  given week); relieving mental stress; relieving headache 
  or toothache; suppressing appetite; and bolstering the 
  immune system. 
  Storytelling
  One of the best sources for ideas for running a Mage: 
  The Awakening Chronicle involving Appalachian hoo-
  doo are the Silver John stories of Manly Wade Wellman. 
  They include The Old Gods Waken, After Dark, The Lost 
  and the Lurking, The Hanging Stones and The Voice of the 
  Mountain. These tales depict southern Appalachia in the 
  last half of the 20th century, a place of ever quickening 
  pace, encroaching modernization and dark, shadowy 
  secrets. While John does not fit the mold of either an 
  Atlantean style mage or a true practitioner of Appalachian 
  hoodoo — at least not to its fullest extent — he does carry 
  Appalachian Hoodoo Story Hooks
  • Finding a Missing Mage: The characters hear of a missing Life mage named Carianna who 
  possesses lost information vital to their current mission. Rumors that she is hiding in the Appala-
  chians after a cabal of Seers blew up her home in the characters’ home city lead the characters to 
  the mountains, where they hear of a reclusive healer woman who lives deep in the hills and who 
  possesses powerful “hoodoo.” This eventually leads the characters to Sairey, who can teach them 
  hoodoo magic, give them an appreciation of the mountain culture and, ultimately, enable them to 
  help defend her from a group of Seers who have tracked her down. 
  • The Long Lost Artifact: A high-ranking member of the characters order or of the local Consil-
  ium has heard that a valuable piece of Atlantean lore — a book of spells — lies somewhere in the 
  heart of Appalachia, in the possession of a local root doctor. Asked to track down the artifact, the 
  characters encounter several practitioners of Appalachian hoodoo, allowing the Storyteller to in-
  troduce her players to root doctors, conjure women, mojo workers, crossroads conjurers and other 
  varieties of hoodoo mages. Each person has some precious item, from a translation of a German 
  book of charms (i.e., Rohman’s Long Lost Friend) to an amulet made of rare gems that look like no 
  other gems on earth and appear to “sing” with resonance at certain times of the night, month or 
  year. What the characters ultimately find is up to the Storyteller, who may use the item to launch 
  the next phase of her chronicle or as an excuse to introduce the characters to tradition magic, Ap-
  palachian or otherwise. 
  • The Root Shop: The characters have some reason to be in the Appalachian region, either 
  traveling through or thinking of taking up residence. In a little mountain town, they come across 
  an unobtrusive store called “The Root Shop.” Inside, they find not only herbs and roots for herbal 
  and homeopathic medicines, but anyone using one of the Mage Sight spells can sense magical 
  energy emanating from many of the herbs and from the shop in general. Further investigation leads 
  the characters to a group of hoodoo mages who have come together to combat a hoodoo sorcerer 
  whose powers are greater than theirs. The characters, if they stay, get caught up in a local hoodoo 
  war and must learn the ways of hoodoo magic to stay alive. 
  around a copy of Long Lost Friend and uses it to fight the 
  good fight against evil forces. Some of the characters he 
  encounters, however, give good thumbnail sketches of 
  various types of mages in the Appalachian hoodoo tradi-
  tion, some healers and warriors for the light and others 
  servants of the darkest powers or slaves of their own greed. 
  Ideas for plots abound in these novels and can point the 
  way for Storytellers to expand on their own ideas.
  Libraries can also provide information on Appalachian 
  hoodoo or folktales, while the proliferation of Southern 
  writers such as Gail Godwin, Leigh Smith, Reynolds Price 
  and others can help Storytellers translate the atmosphere 
  of the modern Southeast to a game setting. Movies like 
  Nell and Songcatcher provide good takes on the scenery 
  of the Appalachians and the tenor of the people who 
  live there.
  The backwoods and mountains of the Appalachians 
  stretch, incidentally, from north Georgia to Pennsylvania 
  and continue on through to Maine and Newfoundland 
  before leapfrogging over the Atlantic, stopping briefly at 
  
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  CHAPTER FOUR: THE FRINGE
  Greenland, before settling down in the Scottish High-
  lands and the north of England. Evidence now places 
  the origin of the Appalachian range as somewhere in 
  Central America, but that’s just a nicety of geographic 
  accuracy. Within the hidden places of these mountains 
  exists ample room for strange people, places, creatures 
  and things that the rest of the world turns away from. 
  In Appalachia, myths and legends still live, and good 
  hoodoo mages are always in need.
  Sample Character
  Arabelle
  Quote: I suppose I could make me up something for you to 
  take home with you and use, but if it don’t work the way you 
  need it to, you must bring it back to me and no one else. 
  Background: Ever since she was little, growing up near 
  the town of Clyde, in Haywood County, North Carolina, 
  Jennylou Tweedy loved nothing better than watching her 
  father fix things. She was a smart child, the only living 
  child after three stillbirths and three late-term miscar-
  riages, and her parents adored her. Even her witchy old 
  Granny Tweedy, who everyone said was a conjure woman 
  and who lived way up in the hills in a cabin with no 
  electricity and no inside bathroom, called her a miracle 
  child and predicted great things for her.
  All Jennylou wanted to do was take things apart and 
  put them back together again. Though her family wasn’t 
  rich, Jennylou’s father did a thriving business in his 
  repair shop. People paid in kind rather than in money, 
  though, so although they had wood for the wood stove, 
  gas for their truck, handmade clothing for Jennylou, 
  smoked ham for Easter, turkey for Thanksgiving and a 
  big goose for Christmas, all from the people who patron-
  ized Tweedy’s Fix-It Shop, the family hardly had money 
  to spend or save. When Jenny was thirteen, her mother 
  died of ovarian cancer. Her father did not remarry.
  Jennylou did well in public school and expressed an 
  interest in going to college to be an engineer. Jennylou’s 
  father tried to explain to the teenager that there wasn’t 
  money for college. Jennylou tried her best to understand, 
  but could only see her world suddenly grow very small. 
  Then her father went to visit his mother, Granny Tweedy 
  and a miracle happened shortly afterward.
  The principal of Jennylou’s high school called to say 
  that he had managed to get Jennylou a full scholarship 
  to NC State, for their engineering program. She would 
  be gone east for six years — four for college and two for 
  her Master’s in Engineering. 
  Six years later, she was home to stay, complete with 
  her engineering degree. Her expertise allowed her father 
  to expand the business to take on some construction 
  and engineering projects instead of just repairs and 
  their finances improved. She made a point of visiting 
  her Granny Tweedy once a week until the old woman 
  passed away, leaving her cabin and all her belongings to 
  her only grandchild, her son’s seventh child. When her 
  father passed away three years later, Jennylou sold her 
  father’s shop and moved away from Clyde. Though no 
  one knew it, she went to her grandmother’s cabin, now 
  hers, spent some of the shop money on bringing indoor 
  plumbing and electricity to the cabin, and took up practic-
  ing conjure magic like her Granny had taught her during 
  their weekly visits. To it, she added her own abilities to 
  fix things and has been busily adding her own spells to 
  her Granny Tweedy’s Book of Useful Knowledge. 
  In all the years since she’s been back, Jennylou has said 
  nothing of what she experienced in college or why she 
  is so content to forget that part of her life. 
  Her junior year in college, Jenny went to a party where 
  some seniors accosted her, drugged her and, she suspects, 
  raped her. She doesn’t remember what they did. What 
  she does remember is that she awoke on a vast gray plane 
  above which rose a massive tower that looked, at first as if 
  it were made of lead. As she neared it, she saw that it was 
  actually an intricate machine tower that was no longer 
  functioning because it was missing an essential piece. 
  She examined the tower, even as she entered it in search 
  of its inner workings. She saw many names inscribed 
  into the surfaces of the tower. When she finally came 
  to the center, she saw that the machine wasn’t working 
  because it was completely depleted of oil — except Jen-
  nylou realized it wasn’t oil that was needed, but blood. 
  Hers. Without another thought, she sliced her wrist on 
  a jagged piece of metal and let her arterial blood flow 
  into the machine. The last thing she saw before she lost 
  consciousness was her name appearing on the surface 
  of the tower’s innermost chamber.
  When she awoke again, it was to the real world and to 
  the knowledge that whatever had happened to her after 
  the party, she had Awakened either because of or despite 
  it. She found a teacher in the head of the engineering de-
  partment who informed her that she had found the Path 
  of Moros, that she had traveled to Stygia and that he would 
  love for her to join his order, the Free Council, which had 
  less problems with the modern world’s high-tech gadgetry 
  than many other orders. She took the name Arabelle, her 
  mother’s little used middle name, for her magic name.
  Now, as Arabelle, she practices hoodoo magic, bring-
  ing help to the people who come to her. She also fixes 
  things for her clients, charging only what they can afford 
  in cash or kind.
  
  130
  Description: Arabelle is a sturdily built woman in her 
  mid-thirties. Her sandy brown hair is cut short in the 
  summer but is allowed to grow long enough to braid in 
  winter. She would be pretty if her face didn’t have so 
  many harsh lines, as if something bitter had taken away 
  most of her joy. She dresses according to the needs of 
  the moment — long dresses for days spent in her cabin 
  doing chores or mixing up some of her herbs, jeans and 
  work boots for hiking through the woods with her finding 
  stick and dark green coveralls for working on her truck 
  or on her neighbors’ cars. 
  Her nimbus manifests as the distant sounds of ma-
  chinery, like the chugging of an old car. 
  Storytelling Hints: Arabelle has resolved never to 
  marry, since she’s afraid of being reminded of the horrors 
  of her pre-Awakening traumatic ordeal. She has taken 
  to collecting big dogs to warn off any potential suitors. 
  She is mostly content to practice her magic in the old 
  tradition of her Granny Tweedy, but she knows that if her 
  order needs her for some critical mission, she will most 
  likely answer them. She is currently looking around for 
  someone to groom to be her successor since she knows 
  that her family line has ended with her.
  Dedicated Magical Tool: A length of lead pipe that 
  stays with her whenever she works magic or makes her 
  repairs.
  Real Name: Jennylou Tweedy
  Path: Moros
  Order: Free Council
  Tradition: Appalachian Hoodoo
  Mental Attributes: Intelligence 4, Wits 2, Resolve 2
  Physical Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 3, 
  Stamina 2 
  Social Attributes: Presence 2, Manipulation 2, 
  Composure 2 
  Mental Skills: Academics 2, Crafts (Repairs) 3, 
  Investigation 1, Occult (Appalachian Hoodoo) 3, 
  Science (Engineering) 3
  Physical Skills: Drive 2, Survival 1, Weaponry 
  (Lead Pipe) 2
  Social Skills: Animal Ken (Big Dogs) 2, Intimida-
  tion 3, Subterfuge 1
  Merits: Allies (Free Council) 2, Book of Spells and 
  Simples, Magical Tradition (Appalachian Hoodoo), 
  Resources 1 
  Willpower: 4
  Wisdom: 7 
  Virtue: Fortitude
  Vice: Wrath
  Initiative: 5
  Defense: 2 
  Speed: 10
  Health:  7
  Gnosis: 5  
  Arcana: Death 4, Life 3, Matter 5, Prime 3, Space 1
  Rotes: Death —Forensic Gaze (•), Entropic Guard (••), 
  Destroy Object (•••), Enervation (••••); Life 
  — Healer’s Trance (•), Heal Flora and Fauna (••), 
  Healing Heart (•••); Matter — Craftman’s Eye (•), 
  Alter Accuracy (••), Repair Object (•••), Alter Ef-
  ficiency (••••), Self-Repairing Machine (•••••); 
  Prime — Locate Crossroads (•), Activate Enchanted 
  Item (••), Imbue Item (•••); Space — Finder (•) 
  Mana/per turn:  14/5
  Armor: 4 (“Forensic Gaze,” Matter ••)
  
  131
  CHAPTER FOUR: THE FRINGE
  ENTHEOGEN 
  CULTS
  Under the inﬂ uence of DMT, the world becomes an Arabian labyrinth, a palace, a more 
  than possible Martian jewel, vast with motifs that ﬂ ood the gaping mind with complex 
  and wordless awe. Color and the sense of a reality-unlocking secret nearby pervade the 
  experience. There is a sense of other times, and of one's own infancy, and of wonder, 
  wonder and more wonder. 
  — Terrence McKenna, Food of the Gods
  In a dank basement, a handful of men and women eat 
  dried mushrooms so that they can speak to the strange 
  beings that live in the building’s ventilation system. Half 
  a world away, in the middle of a rainforest paddock, a 
  pair of sisters drink a potent tea brewed from the Vine 
  of the Dead, hoping to commune with the world’s spirit, 
  a thing that some call Gaia, others call God, and a few 
  believe to be the Devil herself. The drugs break apart the 
  mind, forge new connections, allow one to realize things 
  that could previously not be realized. Eyelids are ripped 
  open, made to see hyperdimensional travelers creeping 
  slowly across the night sky. Ears hear the chatter of plants, 
  animals, and machines. The nose smells out the corrup-
  tion born in a man’s heart, and can suss out conspiracies 
  and connections that seem alien and impossible. Is it all 
  in the imagination? Some of it, yes. But some of it is real, 
  too. Welcome to the cults of the entheogen.
  Neoteric Shamanism
  Shamans have been a part of the world since early 
  civilization. A tribe’s shaman acts as a mediator between 
  the unseen world and the known world, appeasing or 
  battling indefinable spirits. He works to tie the subtle 
  threads of fate for the good of his people. He risks his 
  soul and sanity to gain knowledge that aids the tribe. 
  To accomplish this, many shamans attempt to enter 
  alternate states of consciousness through various means. 
  Such means include drumming, fasting, sweating, or danc-
  ing. It also might include use of entheogenic substances 
  – i.e. psychoactive substances taken from nature (various 
  hallucinogenic mushrooms, vines, leaves, cacti). 
  The term “entheogen,” referring not only to natural 
  psychoactives but to artificial ones as well, indicates by 
  its etymology a substance that “brings God within a 
  person.” It is religious, spiritual, a shift in consciousness 
  that is divine and multi-dimensional. A drug taken for 
  purposes of recreation is not, at its core, entheogenic. 
  The same drug taken for purposes of enlightenment or 
  spiritual awakening is an entheogen.
  The ancient tradition of imbibing or ingesting psychoac-
  tive substances for spiritual purposes is not relegated to 
  the distant past or primitive cultures. Use of entheogens 
  is alive and well in modern society, given over to secret 
  sects and hidden cults. These cults are disparate in most 
  ways – in the drugs they prefer (ayahuasca, psilocybin, 
  LSD), the goals they seek (mental evolution, world con-
  sciousness, forbidden knowledge), and in the entities 
  with which they supposedly commune (hyperdimensional 
  UFOs, so-called ”machine elves,“ or the soul of the entire 
  world). But for all that separates them, much unites and 
  defines them, as well. Psychoactive substances kick open 
  the doors to their pre-defined perceptions, knocking 
  them permanently off their hinges. Entheogenic cultists 
  speak with entities (or believe they speak with entities) 
  about which normal man is plainly unaware. And they 
  attempt to do their own kinds of magic – psychic ma-
  nipulations, astral travel, prophesying – through this 
  neoteric shamanic tradition.
  Does the potential for real magic, or magic found 
  accidentally, exist through entheogens? Does previously-
  inaccessible knowledge become accessible to those who 
  are willing to sacrifice bits of established perception and 
  sanity on this mad shaman trip? Mages may find that the 
  diffused light of supernal truth waits in this tradition, but 
  FYI
  We aren’t advocating the consumption of 
  illegal drugs. Mage: the Awakening is a 
  fictional game, and this is a fictional ex-
  ploration of one aspect – one tradition – of 
  magic. So, stay in school, drink your milk, 
  and don’t do drugs.
  
  132
  becoming a part of it and seeing it laid bare is not so simple 
  as eating magic mushrooms and going on a head trip. No, 
  the journey to the heart of this tradition is a labyrinthine 
  one, signposted with a number of powerful personalities, 
  lunatic dogma and incomprehensible rituals. A mage can 
  learn much from the entheogen cults. But she can lose 
  much to them, as well – including herself.
  History
  Shamanism, as noted, has been around for thousands 
  of years. This particular tradition, however, where any-
  body can arguably consume an entheogenic substance 
  and perform certain rites and customs to gain a kind of 
  magical awareness, is fairly modern. One could further 
  argue that its origins lie in the invention of Lysergic acid 
  dithylamide (LSD) in the late 1930s. The drug, along 
  with psilocybin mushrooms, saw use as an aid to psy-
  chotherapeutic treatments. Doctors dosed the mentally 
  ill – schizophrenics in particular – to help open up and 
  explore the disease. At the same time, the drug found use 
  in less altruistic avenues: both the British and American 
  governments used LSD as a tool to ameliorate the effects 
  of brainwashing and interrogation techniques, generally 
  without the consent (or knowledge) of the dosed.
  In the early 1960s, two Harvard psychology professors, 
  Drs. Timothy Leary and Richard Alpert, studied the ef-
  fects of LSD on students and professors in a consensual 
  analysis. The results suggested that the drug opened a 
  doorway to spiritual enlightenment; not entirely strange, 
  given that psychoactive substances have been a part of 
  religious ceremonies throughout cultures both extant 
  and extinct. Leary, already having taken psilocybin-laced 
  tequila in Mexico years before, became a champion of 
  the drug’s effects, even after it was banned in 1967. He 
  was later fired from Harvard.
  Until his death in 1996, Leary ended up the most 
  public proponent for the entheogenic experience. Flitting 
  around the world (often hounded by the authorities), 
  Leary proselytized hallucinogens, tying them at times to 
  Eastern philosophy, the occult magic of Aleister Crowley, 
  and both virtual reality and the Internet. While Leary was 
  the most public proselyte of the entheogenic experience, 
  however, he was far from the only one. 
  Cults of Personality
  The entheogenic movement is marked by a series of 
  strong personalities. These personalities shepherd their 
  individual entheogenic movements as a central figure who 
  designs some of the movement’s core dogma. Some are 
  willing leaders, others end up as powerful personalities 
  only by default.
  Terrence McKenna is often considered as much a 
  godfather to the entheogenic movement as Leary. Leary’s 
  partner, Richard Alpert, remains a potent spiritual leader 
  (now calling himself Baba Ram Dass). A more modern 
  proponent of the neoteric shamanic tradition is Daniel 
  Pinchbeck. We don’t have the room to describe these 
  strong personalities and their visions here; doing so could 
  take more pages than this book has in its binding. For a 
  good primer, we recommend Terrence McKenna’s True 
  Hallucinations and Daniel Pinchbeck’s Breaking Open 
  the Head. Both are useful in that they combine a kind 
  of travelogue “adventure” with shamanic, entheogenic 
  theory. This combination should be what drives the 
  Mage: The Awakening story, as well.
  Bottom line is, assume that every cult is guided by the 
  firm hand and strange mind of a powerful personality. This 
  personality is the one who sets the tone for the cult’s habits, 
  beliefs, and ceremonies. The way that Supernal truth shines 
  upon these cults is through such a strong cult leader. He is 
  the prism that refracts it. The truth becomes his.
  Researching the Cults
  Certainly research can help a mage break 
  into some rudimentary understanding of the 
  entheogen cults. A base research attempt 
  requires six successes, with each roll rep-
  resenting 30 minutes of research. That only 
  provides a place to start, however – some 
  names, maybe a news story or two, pos-
  sibly a blog or three. The entheogen cults 
  walk a fine line in that they want people to 
  know about them, but they don’t want to 
  bring the authorities crashing upon them. 
  And so they leave behind a kind of bread-
  crumb trail. A mage must follow this trail 
  (and more of this is described below under 
  the Storytelling section).
  Assume that from that jumping off point, 
  the mage’s research must be conducted 
  largely through interview and actual experi-
  ence. All of this represents a path marked 
  by trial: the mage will be tested by the 
  cultists to determine her value and commit-
  ment to uncovering these new ideas. It will 
  certainly involve the intake of psychoactives.
  Culture and Philosophy
  Below is an exploration of the cultural and philosophi-
  cal cornerstones of the entheogenic cults.
  
  133
  CHAPTER FOUR: THE FRINGE
  Drugs and Magic
  At a cult’s core lies a simple truth: mystical power is 
  within reach for those willing to consume psychoactive 
  substances. Entheogenic drugs open the doors to percep-
  tion, and once those are open, theoretically anything is 
  possible. Some term it “magic,” others think it as evolu-
  tion, psychic ability, or powers granted by entities from 
  beyond this reality. The thing to remember is that every 
  psychoactive substance is different, providing effects at 
  least slightly different from one another. As such, some 
  cults adopt a tack that assumes certain rituals (or spells) 
  can only be completed with certain reagents (meaning 
  particular entheogens). A rote to commune with nature 
  spirits may involve consuming natural mushrooms 
  – psilocybin or fly agaric. One that demands speaking 
  with ghosts or summoning internal power equivalent to 
  that of a panther might necessitate the consumption of 
  a tea brewed from ayahuasca (also known as the “Vine 
  of the Dead”). Ibogaine alkaloids may figure into a rote 
  that completely and utterly changes the self, meant to 
  hone the mind, sharpen reflexes and purify the spirit. 
  While some cults rely on the use of only one particular 
  substance (something DMT-based, for instance), others 
  open the field and accept that the varied effects of different 
  entheogens grant access to unique magic abilities. (The 
  following sidebar will help provide some varying mechani-
  cal effects for different psychoactive substances.)
  Revelations of the Entheogen
  Different cults advocate different mystical paths to 
  enlightenment. When designing an entheogenic cult, 
  pick as many of these as you feel are suitable for the 
  group’s habits and traditions.
  Evolution: A number of entheogenic proponents come 
  to believe that the enlightenment brought on by the 
  consumption of psychoactive substances pushes mankind 
  to mental, spiritual, social, and even physical evolution. 
  Terrence McKenna, for instance, purported the “Stoned 
  Ape” theory, in which apes came down from the trees 
  to pursue the ingestion of hallucinogenic mushrooms. 
  Psychoactive Systems
  The systemic effects for consuming a hallucinogenic substance are found on p. 177 of the World 
  of Darkness Rulebook. However, not every entheogen provides the exact same effects. Below are 
  a number of psychoactives, with rules dictating how they might vary from the base level hallucino-
  gen system. This list is not exhaustive, providing only a sampling for your game.
  DMT: Dimethyltryptamine is a naturally-occurring chemical that is also present in the human 
  body in small amounts (used for metabolism). It can also be synthesized in the lab. Most com-
  monly taken from the ayahuasca vine (South America). Dice penalties up to minus five dice, but 
  trip only lasts for (60 minus Stamina + Composure dots) minutes. 
  Ibogaine: Alkaloid found in dogbane plants. Causes intense trip. Character suffers -5 dice pool 
  for up to (48 minus Stamina) hours. Has profound effects: cures opiate or nicotine addictions, and 
  with a successful Resolve + Composure roll, can cure one mild derangement (roll made at trip’s 
  end). Character can also choose to change his Virtue or Vice after his first ibogaine trip. 
  LSD: Mild chemically-synthesized hallucinogen. Mild to moderate dosage causes -2 dice pen-
  alty. Strong dosage assumes -3 dice penalty. Penalty doesn’t apply to any Physical roll. Lasts for 
  (8 minus Stamina) hours. Secondary effects lasts for (24 minus Stamina) hours, where character 
  gains +1 to any Wits or Composure rolls, and -1 to any (non-Composure) Social rolls.
  Mushrooms: So-called “magic mushrooms” or “shrooms” are generally of the psilocybin or fly 
  agaric varieties. Can cause ataxia, conferring a -2 penalty to all Physical rolls, but it can increase 
  mental acuity, granting +1 to Mental (and Perception) rolls. Lasts for (7 minus Stamina) hours.
  Peyote: Taken from small ball cactus (Mexico and American Southwest). Can cause -2 to Physi-
  cal rolls, -1 to Social, and +1 to Mental (and Perception) rolls. Lasts for (13 minus Stamina) hours.
  At the end of any trip, a character should roll Resolve + Composure. Failure indicates suffering 
  Hallucinogen Persisting Perception Disorder for one week. Dramatic failure means that HPPD is 
  permanent (until cured). Information on this derangement can be found in the sidebar on p. 137.
  
  134
  These mushrooms also gave the apes greater mental 
  awareness and visual acuity. The primates who partook 
  of the mushrooms were therefore subject to evolutionary 
  advantages. Other evolutionary assumptions are that the 
  mental and spiritual shifts brought on by entheogens will 
  become so profound that those who partake will not be 
  human, but “transhuman.”
  Prophecy: Some cults incorporate prophecy into their 
  rituals. This prophecy can be a reinterpretation of old 
  prophesying (Nostradamus, the Mayans, Edgar Cayce) or 
  may involve using entheogens to contribute new insight 
  using psychoactive divination. A few cults are apocalyptic, 
  studying or channeling prophecy that foretells the end of 
  the world. Most see the end of the world as a thing that 
  is good, or at least can be made good (a transhumanist 
  perspective). A rare few, however, see the end as a bad and 
  permanent thing that either must be stopped, or cannot be 
  stopped and therefore demands a moral-free ecstatic exis-
  tence (or “ride”) until it all comes crashing down. Daniel 
  Pinchbeck, for instance, believes that 2012 is the year the 
  world will end, requiring a transhumanist shift.
  Entities: Some entheogenic practitioners believe that 
  they commune with entities from outside this world. 
  Such entities may be the ubiquitous “machine elves” 
  seen as a part of most DMT-based experiences, while 
  others may see angels, demons, gods, UFOs, aliens, 
  ghosts, or totemic animals. Some see a language that 
  only they can understand. This language, known as the 
  Logos, is often seen written on the ground or on walls, 
  and many believe it is the world (sometimes known as 
  Gaia) communicating with them.
  Conspiracy: The ingestion of illicit substances can 
  lead to two effects, one good and one negative. The 
  good is an increased awareness and level of perception. 
  The bad is that it sometimes stirs paranoia or enflames 
  mental illness. Combine these two effects, and sometimes 
  users are able to see elements and connections that are 
  either there but are difficult to see, or are able to “see” 
  connections that don’t actually exist. Because of this, 
  some cults end up rather conspiracy-minded, seeing con-
  nections between events that may be true, or may suffer 
  from the fallacy of the single cause. Some conspiracies 
  are simple, focusing on the government’s crackdown 
  on entheogenic substances (the assumption being that 
  entheogens might make a once-passive population res-
  tive), while others are elaborate conspiracies about 9/11, 
  UFO cover-ups and abductions, assassinations, foreign 
  policy, or mind control. 
  Occult: Some cultists explore 
  variant magical traditions to add 
  to their own understanding. One 
  cult may fold the workings of 
  Crowley into its ethos and ritu-
  als, while another may invoke the 
  occult stylings of any of the other 
  traditions found in this book. 
  Shamanism: Many cults con-
  tinue the shamanic traditions 
  of aborginal peoples, whether 
  performing the Ibogaine rituals 
  of the Bwiti or the peyote sweat 
  lodges of the Sioux. They com-
  mune with nature and its spirits. 
  They also generally believe that 
  the planet has a single conscious-
  ness, sometimes called Gaia.
  Fortean: Entheogenic adher-
  ents may grow focused on strange 
  coincidences in nature as well 
  as other Fortean or paranormal 
  phenomena. Given that a user 
  may witness things that normal 
  man cannot see, it becomes easy 
  to believe in UFOs or Bigfoot or 
  other unusual phenomena. 
  
  135
  CHAPTER FOUR: THE FRINGE
  Glimpses of Atlantis
  Terrence McKenna’s “Stoned Ape” theory of evolu-
  tion is one way of imagining the Atlantis myth as viewed 
  through the many lenses of entheogen cults. While not 
  all cults ascribe to the exact nature of the Stoned Ape 
  theory, many do believe that ancient civilizations were 
  granted wisdom, even magic, through the consumption 
  of entheogenic substances. Dionysus drank the entheo-
  gen wine in the mythical mountainous valley of Nysa. 
  The psychoactive wine (based off of ergot, like LSD) 
  called kykeon saw use in The Iliad, The Odyssey, and in the 
  ceremonial practice of the Eleusinian Mysteries (which 
  some theorize gave its participants mystical power due 
  to the powerful properties of the entheogenic drink). 
  Kykeon, having been given to the Greeks by the gods 
  – or, in alternate modes of thought, having been con-
  cocted by man to honor Demeter – is a perfect example 
  of how wisdom from on-high is given in the form of a 
  hallucinogenic substance. Soma, in the Rig Veda, is both 
  a drink and a god, helping men become immortal and 
  destroying “mortal man’s deception.” 
  One cult might suggest that the entheogens were given to 
  them by gods so that they may commune with gods, while 
  another may claim that entheogens are a gift from aliens so 
  that we may commune with the aliens. One theory even sug-
  gests that the ancients themselves, obviously far wiser than 
  we are now, speak to only those cultists who have ingested 
  the psychoactives. The drugs are a conduit to wisdom. This 
  conduit was forged long ago, by the ancients.
  Are the ancients the Atlanteans? Specifically, no, but 
  generally speaking? Possibly. Many cults posit stories re-
  garding ancient civilizations (Lemuria, Mu, Hyperborea) 
  where the people were possessed of great wisdom borne 
  of entheogens. Were the original sorcerers more power-
  ful because of mind-opening psychoactive substances? 
  Was the fall of Atlantis preceded by a sudden dearth of 
  these substances, similar to how McKenna believes that a 
  shortage of entheogenic mushrooms turned the evolving 
  man back to brutality and primitiveness? Mages may find 
  that some of these cults possess old bits of parchment 
  or painted sheets of slate that reveal this theory of an 
  evolved man devolving in this way – sometimes while a 
  grand city sits in ruins. 
  Worth noting, too, is that some cults believe they’re 
  gathering messages from these fallen civilizations and 
  ancient teachers by shifting their perceptions to differ-
  ent dimensions. The drugs “tune” them to different 
  frequencies, and allow them perceptive access to these 
  alternate realities. Are they seeing the Shadow? The wide 
  gulf of Astral Space? Or are they simply hallucinating, 
  their minds inventing this tale wholecloth? 
  Shifting Symbology
  The symbology of the entheogen cults is not etched 
  in stone and is not universally shared between all the 
  sects and groups. The entheogenic tradition is somewhat 
  unique in this, because as it stands, the potent person-
  alities shepherding these cults are also the personalities 
  that earmark which symbols (and, by proxy, which foci) 
  are most significant to that particular cult.
  For instance, a cult focused on interaction between its 
  members and hyperdimensional UFO beings is going to 
  have a wildly different symbology than a sect of urban 
  “rust” shamans who communicate with a city’s “spirit” 
  through massive doses of LSD. 
  The UFO cult may hold important the symbols of 
  bright, flashing lights (symbolizing not only what they 
  see when they commune with aliens, but also represent-
  ing that kind of “flash of enlightenment” as experienced 
  by Saul on the road to Damascus in the Bible). They 
  may keep fetish objects to use in rituals (foci) such as 
  a keychain with a gray alien’s face as the fob, a massive 
  crop circle that counts as an “altar,” or even small bits 
  of twisted shrapnel found in the earth and believed to 
  be from some hyperdimensional spaceship. 
  The urban shamans may believe that the map of the 
  subway lines represents the synaptic map of the city’s 
  “brain,” and may believe the subway itself is a crucial 
  focus for all the magic it performs in and for the city 
  proper. The leader may wield a rusty hunk of conduit 
  as a scepter of power, and may weave for his children a 
  quilt of “sacred” rags picked up off the streets.
  Some cults focus on mythological symbology: the 
  2012 apocalyptic date is from the Mayans, and so Mayan 
  ideas and symbols work their way into the entheogenic 
  tradition with the same frequency as those from Greek 
  mythology (like Eris, the goddess of chaos with her apple, 
  or like Demeter the Earth mother and Dionysus the 
  bacchanalian reveler). 
  One thing to note is that every cult counts as a focus 
  some kind of psychoactive substance. Usually, each sect 
  holds crucial one or two predominant drugs as its magi-
  cal foci of choice. A cult in the deserts of the American 
  Southwest is likely to consider peyote its sacred substance 
  (though it may occasionally import yage tea from the 
  Amazon jungle, too). A city sect may use LSD or lab-made 
  DMT. A group of hipster “witches” might concoct heady 
  brews of Fly Agaric mushrooms or even nightshade. The 
  entheogen is key to the magical tradition. Assume that at 
  least some of the symbology espoused by a cult (and more 
  importantly the chief personality of that cult) is often 
  born of the visions experienced from the consumption 
  of such divine hallucinogens.
  
  136
  Magic and Mushrooms
  Those within the entheogenic tradition don’t gener-
  ally know of “real” magic as the Awakened do, but one 
  can assume that what they hope to achieve (or what 
  they believe is “possible” through the consumption of 
  psychedelics) is demonstrated by a number of Major 
  Arcana. Life, Mind, Space and Spirit are probably key 
  to the mindset of this tradition. Fate, Prime and Time 
  are interesting abstractly, but one can argue that what 
  the tradition knows (or thinks it knows) about magic 
  is simply too rudimentary to be exemplified by these 
  Arcana. Death and Matter might be considered Minor 
  Arcana in that they simply don’t concern themselves 
  with the gross physicality of this world or of the entropic 
  winnowing of life.
  The Reality of Unreality
  Most, mages included, assume that what occurs to a 
  person while undergoing a psychoactive experience is 
  false. It is hallucination; utterly unreal. This is true most 
  of the time. Sometimes, though, the purported illusions 
  of a head-trip are more real than one might expect. They 
  certainly feel real while under the influence. Does this 
  somehow make them real? Or do the drugs truly allow 
  one to access new realities? Below are a few ways the 
  “doors of perception” might be thrown open, revealing 
  different glimpses of unreality made real. (These are 
  certainly not exhaustive, and as player or Storyteller 
  you’re encouraged to think up your own glimpses of the 
  supposedly imaginary.)
  Into Astral Neighborhoods
  The drugs might allow the user’s consciousness to 
  travel astrally for a time. Rules for astral projection ap-
  ply, although no Demesne is required. Alternately, the 
  headtripper’s consciousness stays in the material realm 
  but he is somehow able to perceive astral elements – the 
  journeys of others, for instance, like silver ghosts flitting 
  in the sky or stars above – but fails to actually achieve 
  the journey himself.
  (Some headtrippers refer to “astral neighborhoods,” and 
  claim that entire worlds – trees, bricks, clouds – can be 
  born of thought and ideas. Is it true? Can ideas somehow 
  be used to craft seemingly physical items? Isn’t that what 
  magic is, or at least what magic can sometimes do?)
  Shaman Sees Twilight
  The shaman knows he sees entities in this world existing 
  in a state different from that of the physical. Of course, 
  someone doing drugs may not be so aware as a primeval 
  shaman, and may not know that what he’s seeing isn’t a 
  hallucination but a ghost or elemental or fly-spirit. En-
  theogens can pierce this veil at times, making invisible 
  beings visible to the user.
  What about the Shadow? Do entheogens allow for 
  a user to cross over to the Spirit Realm? Not usually, 
  though it’s not impossible. Some verges do exist that 
  have “keys,” or certain conditions that must be met be-
  fore they will open. Sacred entheogens coursing through 
  one’s system is one such key for a rare few verges, and 
  woe to the unaware user who crosses the Gauntlet by 
  dint of being dosed.
  Supernal Journey
  Some mages claim that entheogens – particularly strong 
  ones like ibogaine, or mild ones made strong through high 
  doses – can open the door to a rare Supernal journey, in which 
  great wisdom and information is parlayed to the user. 
  The veracity of such a claim is highly debatable. The 
  mage who believes he has undergone such an experience is 
  obviously changed in some way, but mortals who trip out 
  on their first hit of acid often feel that they are radically 
  different, too. Could it be the drugs simply doing their 
  job? Can the psychoactive experience mimic a seemingly 
  real journey to enlightenment? 
  Most mages refuse to believe it’s possible. They expect 
  that, if it’s not born of the drugs, then it’s spirits play-
  ing havoc with the user’s perceptions, or worse, a trip 
  to the Abyss. 
  Places That Do Not Exist
  Some mages claim to have seen realms and vistas while 
  tripping on an entheogen, planes of existence that few 
  others (or no other) has witnessed. One Free Council 
  mage believes to have seen a place where machine and 
  flesh works together, blood pumping through rubber hos-
  ing, gears turning in a great God Machine made partly of 
  skin and bone, with holy fire fueling the place in a vast 
  furnace. Another mage claims that “magic mushrooms” 
  allowed him to delve within a wide expanse of thorns, 
  and a hazy realm beyond it that looks of something out of 
  a dream (but the mage could not traverse the briar maze 
  without the thorns snagging on his skin and soul). 
  Are these places real? It seems like no, they can’t be, they’re 
  just manufactured from the interaction of drugs with an 
  Awakened soul. But some mages certainly think they’re 
  real. And some have returned with real, tangible evidence of 
  such trips – an odd leaf that smells of blood and cinnamon, 
  a black coin with a dried human eye pressed and flattened 
  into the metal. Some haven’t returned at all, which is the 
  most damning proof that sometimes psychoactives open 
  the door to places nobody wants to see.
  
  137
  CHAPTER FOUR: THE FRINGE
  trips. Perhaps it’s a soothing voice or calming presence, 
  or maybe you’ve just been through enough entheogenic 
  experiences to know what effects are going to hit the 
  user, and when. In your presence, a user can ignore up to 
  two dice of penalties while undergoing her trip. If you’re 
  present at the end of the experience, as well, the user 
  gains +3 dice to the Resolve + Composure roll made to 
  resist Hallucinogen Persisting Perception Disorder (see 
  sidebar below).
  Entheogenic Resonance
  As noted earlier in the book, a magical tradition con-
  tains enough glimmers and sparks of Supernal wisdom 
  to shift Resonance both subtly and not-so-subtly. Below 
  are brief descriptions as to how they might happen 
  from both mortal and mage action.
  Sleeper Resonance
  Not everybody who takes a psychedelic 
  drug believes in the entheogenic tradi-
  tion. Few truly do. But those who are 
  given over to the experience, embracing 
  the spiritual and religious aspect of it, can 
  alter Resonance. The Resonance takes on mild 
  effects of a hallucination – a mage might see trails, 
  vibrations, or experience synesthesia. Some things 
  might become anthropomorphized for a moment, 
  and seem to be alive when they are not. A mage might 
  feel watched. Or she might see lights in the sky, ala UFOs 
  or hyperdimensional travelers.
  Mage Resonance
  When a mage performs magic under the Supernal 
  wisdom of the entheogenic tradition, the magical stamp 
  is quite apparent (even if one does not know what it 
  Merits
  Below are Merits potentially possessed by members of 
  the entheogenic tradition.
  Entheogenic Synesthesia (•)
  Effect: While under the effects of a psychoactive drug, 
  the character experiences synesthesia, where her senses 
  blur together (she can “taste” music, perhaps, or “hear” 
  colors). This grants her an added level of awareness, as 
  her perceptions are bolstered by more than one sense. 
  While on the drug, she not only experiences no dice 
  penalties to her Perception rolls, but also gains +1 to 
  any Perception rolls.
  Trip Sitter (•••)
  Prerequisite: Composure •••
  Effect: Your character has some skill when it comes 
  to guiding others through intense psychoactive head 
  Hallucinogen Persisting 
  Perception Disorder (mild)
  This derangement causes the character to 
  suffer lingering visual effects – trails, halos, 
  floating spots in the eye, mixed-up colors. 
  (The severe version of this derangement is 
  Schizophrenia, found on p. 99 of the World 
  of Darkness Rulebook.)
  Effect: If a character’s roll fails, she is 
  overwhelmed by subtle but persistent vi-
  sual hallucinations. For the remainder of the 
  scene, she suffers -1 to all Mental rolls except 
  Perception, which suffer a -3 dice penalty.
  
  138
  indicates). A spell might reveal the perceptive divinities 
  behind the rote (a ghostly image of Bacchus squeezing 
  grapes into his mouth or Xoxopelli doing a hypnotic 
  dance while orbited by shimmering flowers). Others see 
  the plants behind the magic – rings of mushrooms, fat 
  coils of ayahuasca vine, cacti dribbling golden fluids. 
  Entheogenic Rotes
  The rotes below represent key ceremonies of the entheogen 
  cults. Note that, for the most part, such rotes are performed 
  by mortals and as such do not achieve much – if any – magical 
  effect. When some glimpse of magic is achieved, the results 
  can be dangerous and damning to a cultist’s soul and sanity 
  (but, for some, it can also be enlightening).
  Playback Vision (Mind ••)
  The mage can “record” a hallucinogenic vision (though 
  it needn’t be purely visually-driven, and can feature input 
  from all the senses) and “play it back” to himself or to 
  another individual. 
  Practice: Ruling
  Action: Instant (subtract target’s Resolve)
  Duration: Prolonged (length of vision; likely one scene)
  Aspect: Covert
  Cost: None
  The mage can playback one hour of the hallucinatory 
  experience per success. (Most trips can therefore be re-
  played by a single success, but more intense and lengthy 
  trips such as those experienced under Ibogaine might take 
  several attempts with this spell to accurately revisit.) 
  Note that the target, be it the mage himself or a target 
  victim, experiences the entire hallucination; with that 
  come any of the systemic effects of the drug’s presence in 
  one’s system except for the chemical signatures. In other 
  words, the target would still gain any bonuses and suffer 
  any penalties from the hallucination. However, a drug test 
  would reveal no psychoactives in the target’s system.
  The only difference is that the target is fully aware 
  that she is experiencing a hallucination. She can easily 
  differentiate between reality and vision.
  If the target is willing to receive the vision, her Resolve 
  is not subtracted from the mage’s casting roll.
  Tradition Rote: Shamanic Communion
  Dice Pool: Stamina + Expression + Mind
  In times past, a shaman would communicate with and 
  do battle with spirits to gain the knowledge his village 
  needed. However, the village could not properly parse 
  the knowledge as the shaman understood it. Moreover, 
  such information could not be conveyed meaningfully 
  through mere words or miming. 
  As such, the village would gather together to experience 
  what the shaman experienced. To do so, they all drank 
  from a cup of the shaman’s urine. The urine delivered 
  unto them the magic of the experience (and, as some 
  scientists suggest, traces of the psychoactive chemical 
  leaving the bloodstream via the waste). 
  This rote is much the same. The chief “shaman” (likely 
  the cult leader) delivers unto the sect his urine. They 
  drink it. They gain the visions he experienced.
  The urine is, of course, the chief focus here. Some 
  other “blessing” mechanism must come in play, similar 
  to the Catholics aspergillum. Some shake a bone over the 
  cup, others might wave a rusty pipe over it, or a branch 
  from a purportedly “sacred” tree. 
  The final focus is, as always, the entheogen in the 
  bloodstream.
  The Divining Spirit (Spirit ••• + Time •••)
  The mage summons a greater spirit from the Shadow 
  Realm, likely unknown to her. This spirit is not drawn from 
  the current Shadow Realm, however, but is drawn from 
  the Shadow’s past or future for divinatory purposes.
  Practice: Weaving
  Action: Extended (target number = Rank spirit sought) 
  and contested; roll target’s Resistance
  Duration: Prolonged (one scene)
  Aspect: Vulgar
  Cost: 1 Mana
  The spirit called is generally unknown, and is drawn 
  from the local area Shadow Realm’s past and future 
  (unless the mage uses Space 2 to extend his senses). The 
  time period by which the spirit is called is also unknown 
  – it may be summoned from the recent future or the 
  distant past. 
  The mood of the spirit is often confused and maddened, 
  though usually the dizzying effect upon the spirit keeps it 
  from being outright hostile. That being said, the spell does 
  not provide any kind of protection against the spirit; if it 
  chooses to bring harm in some way to the participants, 
  the spell offers no bulwarks against such an action.
  The spirit summoned remains near the mage for the 
  spell’s Duration, unless the sorcerer allows it to leave.
  Tradition Rote: Mystery of the Barley Wine
  Dice Pool: Manipulation + Persuasion + Spirit vs. 
  Resistance
  This rote provides a modern refashioning of the cer-
  emonies at Eleusis, particularly those that initiated a 
  participant into the Eleusinian Mysteries. 
  In the Greek rites of old, the cultists drank from a heady 
  entheogenic brew of what was believed to be barley, water, 
  
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  and pennyroyal (a slightly toxic variety of strong mint). 
  Honey was often added for flavor, and the modern ver-
  sion has it, as well. Some speculate that the entheogen 
  of the brew came from empurpled barley, whose color 
  was granted by the psychoactive ergot fungus that grew 
  upon it. Others believe it the combination of the toxic 
  mint and the fermentation of the brew contributed 
  toward visions.
  Here, modern participants of this ritual add their own 
  hallucinogen – most prefer to add something natural 
  (mushrooms, extract of ayahuasca, peyote), but some will 
  add synthetics like LSD or lab-DMT to the brew. 
  The drink provides the first focus of the rote, and to a 
  point, the hallucinogen in the drink is the second focus. 
  Participants must gulp, not sip, the brew. The third focus 
  is a copy of one of Homer’s books: likely The Iliad or The 
  Odyssey, though the anonymous (but oft-attributed to 
  him) Homeric Hymns work just as well. The caster must 
  read from random passages from the text. The nature of 
  the passages matters little. The simple repetition of these 
  ancient words is believed to form a conduit between past, 
  present and future through which the gods can travel.
  (Note that some mages set a conditional duration 
  upon this spell for the sake of safety. That condition is 
  met when the Homeric text is closed. With the clap of 
  the book’s closing, the “god” is banished.)
  Note that this rote does not have a condition of envi-
  ronment (it can be performed anywhere, whether in the 
  middle of a circle of stones or in a dark attic strewn with 
  old toys), but it does have a temporal condition. It must 
  be performed at dawn or dusk; at any other time, the rote 
  fails. Improvised casting has no such restrictions. 
  Gleaning the Crowd (Mind ••••)
  With this spell, the mage psychically projects his con-
  sciousness into Twilight amid a crowd of gatherers. Once 
  there, he can plumb the depths of the crowd’s aggregate 
  minds, creating in some fashion one giant brain (crowd 
  represents new synapses, and the caster forges between 
  himself and the crowd new synaptic connections, making 
  a massive – if temporary – neural network). 
  Practice: Patterning
  Action: Instant
  Duration: Prolonged (one scene)
  Aspect: Vulgar
  Cost: 1 Mana
  The rules are the same for the Psychic Projection spell 
  (pp. 215-216, Mage: The Awakening). However, while 
  moving about Twilight, the mage’s projection can move 
  seamlessly through the gathered minds, learning new 
  things. After the scene is over and the mage returns to 
  his body, he learns a number of new Skill points equal 
  to his Gnosis score, with the player essentially adding 
  temporary dots to the character’s current or non-existent 
  Skill ratings. No more than two dots can be added to a 
  single Skill in this way.
  
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  The Skill boost is temporary, lasting for 24 hours. After 
  the 24 hours, the Skill dots “burn off” at the rate of one dot 
  per hour (Storyteller’s choice as to what order they fade). 
  With Storyteller approval, however, this spell may make a 
  good excuse for spending XP to purchase and keep the Skill 
  points gained. If no XP is spent, no points are kept.
  Tradition Rote: Surfing the Sacred Convergence
  Dice Pool: Presence + Occult + Mind
  Entheogenic cults are known for their ceremonial festi-
  vals – from the Harmonic Convergence in the late 1980s 
  (a moment that supposedly began the world’s temporal 
  trek to the year 2012 when humanity would either end 
  or evolve), to the current annual Burning Man Festival. 
  The goal of the gathering matters little (Burning Man of-
  fers a generic focus on creativity, self-reliance, and ecstasy 
  while something like the Harmonic Convergence was 
  a conscious attempt to turn humanity’s collective soul 
  toward positive karma and dharma), but the gathering 
  of people is a focus. Also important is that a number of 
  the gatherers must be operating with some manner of 
  psychoactive in their bloodstream (the number of dosed 
  individuals isn’t a hard or fast number, but one can as-
  sume that approximately 1/4 of the attendees should 
  have recently imbibed some kind of entheogen). 
  Another focus of the festival is a key symbol that serves 
  as the literal center of the activities. At Burning Man, it 
  is obviously the giant effigy (which may actually burn or 
  may be a figure comprising neon tubes and car parts), 
  while at other ceremonial festivals it may be a central 
  tree representing Axis Mundi or a sacred figure (such as 
  Om, some kind of Buddhist mandala, or a figure from 
  Native American or Japanese symbology) laid across or 
  etched into the ground. 
  Music is the final focus. It may come from a drum circle, 
  or may instead be trance music pulsing from a tower of 
  speakers. It doesn’t matter what kind of music it is, only 
  that it’s loud enough for the crowd to hear it.
  The caster then literally surfs the crowd – they pick 
  him up and carry him about. While atop the crowd, he 
  projects psychically, his limp body carried by the crowd 
  until the scene’s end.
  Magical Item: Soma
  What is Soma? Mythically, it’s an Indo-Iranian drink 
  with the earmark of an entheogen. In both Hindu and 
  Zoroastrian myth, the drink is believed to be both a god 
  and the product of a god. It could grant a mortal man 
  a number of divine qualities as well as providing him 
  with visions. 
  Does Soma exist in the real world? Does it have botani-
  cal origins? Some speculate that Soma might be a brew 
  of Fly Agaric mushrooms, while others ascribe it to a 
  number of medicinal plants (such as Ephedra) that grant 
  stimulating or hallucinogenic effects. Does it grow in dry 
  mountain passes, or is it a golden reed that lurks at the 
  river’s edge? Few know, and for the purposes of the two 
  magical items below, it matters little. These items exist, 
  one created by god, one created by sorcerer. (One last 
  connection worth noting in regards to the entheogen 
  cults is that Soma is also the name of the narcotic tran-
  quilizer used in Brave New World, a book often found in 
  the collections of tradition cultists.) 
  Whether a mage is using the two versions noted below 
  or some other mythic and magical version, all types of 
  Soma have a few common effects beyond the magical ones 
  listed. First, Soma is a mild hallucinogen. In this case, 
  however, the psychoactive properties bring no downsides. 
  The trip is mild, providing aural and visual hallucina-
  tions that can be distinguished from reality without a 
  roll, and as such they provide no dice penalties. These 
  mild psychoactive effects also grant a +1 to the drinker’s 
  Perception rolls for the remainder of the scene.
  The drink is also very fragrant (attempts to perceive 
  it by scent gain a +3 bonus to that Perception roll), and 
  has an overpowering taste of honey. The taste is so sweet 
  that a character must succeed on a Stamina + Resolve roll 
  to keep from throwing it up (however, throwing up after 
  consumption does not obviate the drink’s effects). 
  Soma as Artifact (•••••••)
  This Soma is that from Hindu myth. The Rig Veda 
  describes it thusly: “We have drunk Soma and become im-
  mortal; we have attained the light, the Gods discovered.” 
  In legend, true Soma is no longer accessible by mortals 
  for the gods have removed it from this world. However, 
  it is believed that some mages possess the capability of 
  apologizing to the gods (and using magic and perhaps 
  entheogens to ensure that the apology reaches their dis-
  tant or alien ears) and thus once again gaining access to 
  the powerful divine drink of Soma. Assume that those 
  seeking Soma must brave a number of dangers to find 
  it. The Soma is always guarded by a door that only those 
  under the spell of a psychoactive substance will recognize 
  as a door. The mage must apologize to the door using 
  passages from the Rig Veda to access.
  The artifact itself is a small urn filled with the golden 
  liquid. The artifact contains enough for only two drinks. 
  Once imbibed, the artifact is rendered null (though 
  some say that the urn itself is perhaps a whole other 
  artifact). 
  The immortality posited by this drink is not so simply 
  a measure of man’s length of life, but instead refers to the 
  
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  CHAPTER FOUR: THE FRINGE
  nature of divinity. Divinity is everlasting, even if the body is 
  not. This drink allows the imbiber to reach one of the general 
  goals of the entheogen cults, which is a kind of evolution. 
  Upon taking the drink, the Soma is permanently bound to 
  the blood and soul. The mage may, once having consumed 
  the Soma, choose a single legendary or mythical shape (see 
  both Life ••••• spells Fantasia and Greater Shapechang-
  ing for ideas) for herself. This shape, once chosen, is coded 
  into her blood, written upon her soul with the raw fire of 
  godliness. Once per day, she can change into this shape for a 
  single scene. This is persistent and does not end, providing a 
  permanent benefit to the mage until the end of her life. She 
  has, in some way, transcended her humanity and become 
  something akin to the immortal gods who delivered Soma.
  Soma as Imbued Item (•••••)
  From the texts of the Zoroastrian Avesta, Soma (also 
  called Haoma) grants “speed and strength to warriors, 
  excellent and righteous sons to those giving birth, and 
  spiritual power and knowledge to those who apply 
  themselves to study.” Haoma as a magical item is focused 
  predominantly on that latter portion regarding spiritual 
  power and knowledge.
  It is a golden liquid that comes usually in an unadorned 
  green bottle with a teardrop shape. Accessing its power 
  only requires the consumption of a single drop upon the 
  tongue, thus granting the item a relatively long life of 
  use. (Though some, upon encountering it, might greedily 
  suck it down – an act which grants no additional benefit 
  beyond that gleaned from the one-tongue drop.) 
  The item, contingent upon drinking a single drop, 
  provides two benefits in tandem, and one side-effect that 
  isn’t really a benefit or a detriment.
  The first benefit counts toward the “spiritual power.” 
  It cloaks the drinker in an invisible yet palpable aura of 
  power. Upon performing the drop-drinking trigger, the 
  caster’s player makes the spellcasting roll (equal to caster’s 
  Gnosis + two dice for this Mind effect). Successes on 
  this roll can be added as extra dice to any Presence rolls 
  made until the effects end.
  The second benefit is that the caster gains the 9 Again 
  rule on any Intelligence or Wits rolls made for the dura-
  tion of the drink’s effects. (Mind •••)
  The side effect is that the character’s Vice shifts to 
  Pride for the following week. If her Vice already was 
  listed as Pride, then nothing changes. At the end of the 
  week, her Vice shifts back, as to her means of gaining 
  Willpower accordingly.
  The drink’s primary effects last for a single scene. It 
  can only be used once per day in this manner. It requires 
  no Mana expenditure to use.
  Storytelling
  It’s true that every entheogen cult is a little different 
  from the next, but each sect still upholds some universal 
  themes and traditions that you can grab hold of for use 
  in a Mage: The Awakening story.
  Wonderland, Of Sorts
  It might be easiest to pattern a story involving en-
  theogenic traditions a little bit after Alice’s Adventures 
  in Wonderland. The Lewis Carroll story involves eating 
  strange substances (tea parties, “Eat me,” and “Drink me”), 
  meeting bizarre characters (cultists, hyperdimensional 
  spirits, abstract entities), suffering hallucinogenic visions 
  (floating feline grins, hookah-smoking caterpillars, a baby 
  that changes into a pig), and encountering madness in 
  many forms (Mad Hatter, insane logic, riddles without 
  answers). So too with dealing with one of these cults.
  A mage trying to penetrate a cult for her own purposes 
  is likely to encounter a similar journey. It may involve 
  going down some kind of “rabbit’s hole” into an un-
  derworld either physical (a basement or a subterranean 
  club) or metaphorical (a criminal or countercultural 
  underground). The mage is likely to encounter several 
  odd, even dangerous personalities, and be put through 
  various tests of trust (instead of a cake reading “Eat me,” 
  it’ll likely be some kind of psychoactive substance). 
  It’s not a journey with an easy or fast end. The mage 
  won’t simply be allowed to meet the cult’s central figure 
  on the first day – no, the character or characters must 
  chase this central figure like the story’s White Rabbit. 
  Trials must be persevered. The ego must be damaged or 
  destroyed. The mage must change a small part of her-
  self – or at least fake it really well – to be allowed into 
  see the White Rabbit (or, for a different allusion, The 
  Wizard of Oz). 
  The thing to remember about these cults is that they’re 
  not generally isolated. They, as modern shamans, see 
  themselves as having knowledge and wisdom that the 
  world needs. This wisdom is technically meant to be 
  free, but it’s only free to those who want it. The cults 
  generally believe that deceitful elements seek to undo 
  their good work. In some cases, this breaks down to con-
  spiracy-level thinking (“the government is trying to numb 
  our brains so that they can keep us passive”), but often 
  enough it’s simply the practical thinking of drug users 
  (avoiding jail time for possession of illicit substances). 
  Hence, characters must prove to the sect that they truly 
  wish to possess the wisdom obtained by the cult and 
  that, perhaps more importantly, they aren’t working for 
  any kind of authority real or imagined. Does this mean 
  
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  taking the substances the cult holds dear? Definitely, and 
  probably in sometimes troublesome quantities. But it’s 
  more than that. It’s about a willingness to show change, 
  to have one’s mind and spirit shift, to have those internal 
  (and mystical) doorways open. 
  It’ll be difficult for some mages. Mages are children 
  of hubris, by and large, and may not easily admit that 
  these humans possess wisdom that the mages themselves 
  do not. 
  Sample Cults
  The following example cults can be fleshed-out and 
  dropped into any Mage: The Awakening game using the 
  entheogenic tradition in its story.
  Sacrament of the Earth Temple
  On the surface, the Earth Temple seems to be a peace-lov-
  ing community in the deserts of the American Southwest, 
  committed to its universalist “church” where peyote pro-
  vides the primary sacrament. Composed predominantly 
  of white, once-middle class citizens who have come to 
  desire a “liberation” of flesh and mind from “preconceived 
  reality,” the Earth Temple members have grown more and 
  more isolated since its inception over a decade before. The 
  reality is, however, that they condone peace only in the 
  broader sense, and until it can be achieved, they believe 
  that violence is a solution to enduring peace. The Earth 
  Temple stockpiles weapons. Its members engage in fraud, 
  violent protests, and have plotted (but not yet performed) 
  a handful of assassinations. Oh, and then there’s all that 
  peyote going around. While some churches have managed 
  to make peyote consumption legal for themselves, the 
  Earth Temple hasn’t provided a cogent enough defense 
  of its drug use to earn itself the right. The Earth Temple 
  is a profoundly conspiracy-minded organization that also 
  believes that it communes regularly with Mother Earth and 
  Great Spirit. Both of whom encourage them to take back 
  this world – violently, if necessary. (What’s more frighten-
  ing to some is that occasionally the evidence mounts that 
  suggests the people of the Earth Temple are at least partially 
  right about their conspiratorial suspicions.)
  Of particular interest to mages is what the Temple calls 
  the “Natal Tipi,” a conical dwelling found somewhere 
  out in Arizona’s Sonoran Desert. Missives from over 200 
  Story Hooks
  • A cabal of mages, with little direct interest in learning about or joining the entheogenic tradition, 
  discovers that a local entheogen cult holds what may be a book of ancient Atlantean lore. Other ru-
  mors suggest that this book was actually penned by one of the cultists themselves while tripping out 
  on DMT. To investigate, the mages must infiltrate the group which will surely involve them partak-
  ing in the consumption of the sacred psychoactives. Can they maintain their sanity? Can they realize 
  that some glimpses of true magic exist in what the cult purports as its own “truth?”
  • The cabal finds itself between two warring entheogen cults. At first, the war was ideological 
  – an urban shamanic group went vocally toe-to-toe with a group of radical environmentalists who 
  speak to “Gaia” and believe that the world is going to end in 2012 during a terrible apocalypse. 
  Does it matter who’s right when both sides are attracting the interest of mortal authorities? When 
  they start waging violence against one another, does the cabal step in? Can the mages convince 
  these groups that, in some way, both are right? What happens when the groups find out about the 
  mage meddling, and doses the character unknowingly with psychoactives?
  • Upon exploring the truth of a local entheogen cult, the cabal undergoes the psychoactive ex-
  perience. And thus begins the story. The entire story, which may take many sessions to play out, is 
  told as one massive hallucination. The story provides an epic backdrop with great wisdom coming 
  from on high. Battles with powerful spirits may be front and center, as is a potent war of metaphor 
  against metaphor. Have fun with this story. Evoke crazy imagery. Subvert expectations (maybe the 
  players don’t know that it’s all a hallucination until it begins to build by the third or fourth session). 
  That’s not to say that this story is meaningless – no, what happens in the vision really occurs, 
  even if it doesn’t “happen” on any physical plane. But what they do changes things in the world 
  around them, even when they wake up from the trip and realize that, despite having been “gone” 
  for weeks, only an hour has really passed. (A story like this should provide at least one Arcane 
  Experience point. More if the journey was particularly profound.) 
  
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  CHAPTER FOUR: THE FRINGE
  years before indicate that the Patayan tribe of the desert 
  found this tipi here, and believe it has been here for 
  thousands of years. Those who partake of peyote while 
  inside the tipi find that their trip’s length is doubled, 
  and they suffer no dice penalties while within the tipi. 
  A stranger benefit is given to those who give birth inside 
  the dwelling. Both mother and child gain two unusual 
  benefits permanently: the Unseen Sense and Eidetic 
  Memory Merits. The Temple claims that this enhanced 
  perception is a gift from Great Spirit.
  The Advocates
  The Advocates represent something of an intellectual 
  entheogen cult. Unwilling to label their experiences with 
  hard and fast certainties, they take a somewhat scientific 
  approach (“somewhat” being the key; it only falls to such 
  scrutiny when convenient) to the psychoactive experience. 
  The group maintains an anonymous blog online, and 
  publishes a fine-tuned print version of the blog articles 
  once every couple of months. The Advocates themselves 
  are generally young post-academics, though a few aging 
  hipsters linger in their ranks.
  The head of the Advocates is a young intellectual, 
  a relative neophyte to the world of entheogens. Shell 
  Delacroix was once an investment banker with a bright 
  future in finance who dabbled in the haute drug culture 
  here and there. A few acid and mushroom trips later, 
  however, seemed to rewire Delacroix’s white collar destiny. 
  He became, as his group’s name suggests, an advocate for 
  psychoactive use, believing it to be a healthy experience 
  that has a great potential for opening spiritual awareness 
  and aiding psychological ills. 
  Rumor is, though, that Delacroix is into some strange 
  business. Even his own Advocates don’t know what he’s 
  entirely up to, if they even suspect at all. Truth behind 
  these rumors is that Delacroix has been making a push 
  to rediscover the mythic brews said to be truly divine. He 
  seeks the recipes that open the door to powerful abilities 
  or allow the gods to manifest in this reality. He hopes to 
  uncover the true ingredients behind the Hindu’s Soma, 
  the Zoroastrian Haoma, the Kykeon of the Greeks, or 
  the mushroom meads of South American curanderos. 
  What Delacroix is missing, however, is real magic. If he 
  could ally himself with a mage who could complete the 
  faint but potent gaps in his recipes, he might be able to 
  recreate the entheogenic brews.
  Psychic Liberation Army
  The Psychic Liberation Army (PLA) is listed as a terrorist 
  organization by the FBI. Fronted by a mysterious character 
  known as Betty Blue, this cult believes that an invisible 
  war exists, except the predominant participants – normal 
  citizens – don’t know it even exists. This invisible war has 
  been detailed partially in photocopied manifestos or odd 
  fits of rambling propaganda that the group’s hackers place 
  over existing websites. This war, loosely detailed, seems to 
  involve a massive conspiracy involving reptilian humanoid 
  aliens (who have invaded the government) and ancient 
  Mayan gods, both of whom seek to imprison man in his 
  own ignorance and mediocrity. The PLA, however, believes 
  it works on the side of a whole other race of hyperdimen-
  sional beings that appear as flashing lights preceded by 
  the sound of gears rattling. These beings, which the PLA 
  refers to collectively as “The Consciousness,” has long 
  been trying to help mankind ascend to the next stages 
  of psychic awareness. However, the conspiracy by other 
  beings has kept humanity from evolving any further, and 
  instead hopes to invoke devolution.
  The PLA is, of course, also a massive entheogen cult. 
  They use and distribute massive quantities of various 
  psychoactives, and its members have been arrested all 
  around the world. Worse, however, is the PLA’s tactic in 
  “freeing minds.” Its members kidnap unwitting victims 
  and dose them liberally with powerful hallucinogens (of-
  ten a combination of several substances). It then abandons 
  the victims, leaving them just enough clues to find the 
  PLA when the time is right for “enlightenment.” 
  Betty Blue, the group’s leader, has never been photo-
  graphed, and very few can claim to have ever seen her 
  up-close (it doesn’t help that she wears a variety of Hal-
  loween masks wherever she goes). A number of mage 
  cabals have long speculated that she herself is a mage, 
  perhaps a member of the Free Council, perhaps with her 
  own Legacy. No proof of this exists, however.
  One rumor has persisted. Betty Blue, by some reports, is 
  missing one of her eyes and has it replaced with a glass eye. 
  However, some within the Guardians of the Veil believe 
  that this eye is actually a scepter-stone taken from an old 
  Atlantean artifact. Some say it allows half of one’s vision 
  to travel back in time and see old Atlantis. Is it true? Does 
  Betty know what she has if it is true? Or, if she possesses 
  such a thing, has she entirely misinterpreted these visions 
  as being something that’s happening today in this strange 
  “invisible war” in which the PLA believes? 
  Sample Spirit
  Users of psychedelics often experience sightings of 
  unusual creatures. Below is one such creature, a spirit. 
  Machine Elves
  Quote: (high-pitched whine)
  Background: After consuming DMT, a potent psycho-
  active, the headtripper often is able to see spirits known 
  
  144
  as “machine elves” (or in the parlance of other entheogen 
  pioneers, “tykes,” “self-transforming machine elves,” or 
  “fractal elves”). They seem to be carriers of ideas (as Ter-
  rence McKenna puts it, “meme traders”), infecting those 
  they visit with new ideas. Some speculate that they are 
  literally messengers from entities that cannot be visible 
  or are unable to visit any of the “local” planes of reality, 
  and the elves’ goal is therefore to infect the mind of 
  the witness with the meme, or viral idea, that the more 
  powerful and distant spirit desires to be present in this 
  world. Such distant entities want things that seem ben-
  eficial (reduce pollution), while other times they seem to 
  provoke abstract or outright destructive ideas that make 
  little logical sense (disfigure one’s own body, steal 99 keys, 
  transmit James Joyce’s Finnegan’s Wake over pirate radio). 
  Sometimes, headtrippers have a singular name for this 
  distant entity, and they call it The Logos.
  Description: Preceded by strange sounds (mechanical 
  whine, the sound of plastic tearing), the elves themselves 
  are often little more than odd shapes moving erratically 
  about. Occasionally one sees the shadow of a small body, 
  or the turning gears of delicate clockwork, but mostly it’s 
  all blurs and smears of movement accompanied by the 
  sound of electrical systems or motors working.
  Storytelling Hints: Never travel alone. Swarm the user. 
  Infect with idea at any cost.
  Rank: 1
  Attributes: Power 2, Finesse 4, Resistance 2
  Willpower: 4
  Essence: 7 (max 10)
  Initiative: 6
  Defense: 4
  Speed: 16
  Size: 2
  Corpus: 4
  Influences: Ideas •••
  Numina: Gauntlet Breach, Innocuous, Living Fetter, 
  Meme Infection (see below)
  Bans: Cannot appear to a character unless that character 
  is experiencing some kind of entheogenic experience.
  New Numina: Meme Infection
  This Numina compels a victim to hold a certain idea 
  important, but the key is that the victim believes the idea 
  came from within his own subconscious mind and not 
  from any outside force. Curiously, it doesn’t force the 
  victim to act on the idea, exactly, only that they keep it 
  and consider it somewhat important (a person can be 
  for animal rights but still eat meat, just as a person can 
  believe murder is just without actually killing anybody). 
  
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  CHAPTER FOUR: THE FRINGE
  Spend two Essence and roll the spirit’s Power + Finesse 
  versus the opponent’s Resolve + Composure score. If 
  the spirit wins the contest, then the victim maintains 
  this idea as important for one month. If the victim wins 
  the contest, the meme fails to take hold. Note that if a 
  meme is particularly bizarre or goes wildly against the 
  victim’s belief system, the spirit may suffer up to -3 dice 
  against the Power + Finesse roll. The spirit regains a 
  spent Willpower point whenever it successfully infects 
  a tripping individual with a meme. 
  Option: Things That Are Not
  It’s not impossible that Machine Elves 
  are from a place that isn’t the Shadow, 
  that isn’t an Astral realm, but is something 
  else entirely. A realm that mages haven’t 
  yet encountered (see earlier in the chapter, 
  “Places That Do Not Exist”). 
  If you choose to go this route, Spirit magic 
  will not work on the Machine Elves, which 
  is a terrible discovery and proof that mages 
  only know part of what’s actually going 
  on “out there.” For maximum weirdness, 
  what if mortal practitioners of this tradi-
  tion do know how to deal with and affect 
  the Machine Elves? That can be a blow – a 
  much-needed one, for some – to a mage’s 
  hubristic ego.
  Alternative Magic 
  (Storyteller’s Options)
  Below are a number of “variable” magic rules you may 
  use in part or in total to slightly alter the metaphysics 
  present in your story. 
  Entheogenic Beneﬁ ts
  Each entheogen is a little like an ingredient in a recipe; 
  like how flour thickens a gravy or how citric acid can curdle 
  milk, adding in these specific psychoactive ingredients 
  into magic can subtly alter the process of that magic. 
  A character may discover this on accident (simply by 
  performing magic while on a specific substance), or may 
  find this information bound up in old tomes, perhaps 
  indicating that the sorcerers of Atlantis imbibed and 
  ingested certain substances to achieve unique magical 
  effects. Even without Atlantic figuring into the equa-
  tion, various indigenous cultures use drugs for varying 
  ceremonial and spiritual purposes, and a mage may be 
  able to glean possibility from that fact.
  Note that, unless the Storyteller deems otherwise, all 
  these benefits are available only to those who possess 
  the Magical Tradition: Entheogens Merit. The physical 
  bonuses described earlier in the chapter do not require 
  the Merit; the magical bonuses do. 
  Ayahuasca: Consuming the “Vine of the Dead,” usu-
  ally in a tea such as yagé, grants a +1 bonus to any magic 
  rolls requiring the Death Arcanum. 
  Fly Agaric: The Amanite muscaria mushroom (Fly Agaric) 
  puts the user deeply in touch with nature, conferring a +1 
  bonus to any magic rolls requiring the Life Arcanum.
  Ibogaine: It is suggested that Ibogaine so removes a 
  person from his own identity for a time that during the 
  duration of the trip, any sympathetic spells cast against 
  the user are penalized for an additional -2 dice, blurring 
  the sympathetic conduit (see pp. 114-115, Mage: The 
  Awakening). 
  LSD: The tweaks to one’s awareness allows for the user 
  to gain +1 to any  rolls to scrutinize Resonance.
  Peyote: Peyote buttons allow a user to reach beyond 
  the veil between worlds, thus providing a +1 bonus to 
  any magic rolls requiring the Spirit Arcanum. 
  Psilocybin: The inwardly-oriented intensity of these 
  mushrooms provides the user with a +1 bonus to any 
  magic rolls requiring the Mind Arcanum.
  Touch of Madness
  Entheogens are unpredictable. Nobody experiences 
  the same exact effects twice, thus ensuring a personal 
  journey as unique as a fingerprint or snowflake. Magic 
  in many cases relies on recipe, on rote, but entheogens 
  don’t necessarily serve that purpose.
  As such, assume that magic performed while on any 
  psychoactive substance suffers a -2 dice penalty if the 
  magic performed is from a rote effect. This doesn’t apply 
  to any of the tradition’s own rotes, which are meant to 
  be performed while under the influence of psychoactive 
  drugs. However, also assume that improvised spells gain a 
  +2 bonus. The randomness of the entheogenic trip opens 
  the mind, unfetters the possibility – hence the bonus.
  Off the Grid
  Mortals belonging to the cults of the entheogen often 
  drop “off the grid,” leaving the world behind in their 
  journey. They aren’t connected to the Internet, phone 
  system, and may not have social security numbers, credit 
  cards, or anything else to connect them to the “system.” 
  Assume that mortals can therefore purchase and use 
  (to an extent) one dot of the Occultation Merit (p. 86, 
  Mage: The Awakening); they cannot purchase more 
  than one dot, though 
  
  146
  Accessing Dreams
  Assume that any mage consuming a psychoactive 
  substance temporarily gains one automatic dot of the 
  Dream Merit (p. 82, Mage: The Awakening) in addition 
  to any dots already possessed. Moreover, the secret Wits 
  + Composure roll made by the Storyteller on behalf of 
  the character gains +2 dice. Entheogens are a certain way 
  to access this primordial sense of self and connect to the 
  larger social, global, and metaphysical consciousness. 
  Mortals can buy this Merit, as well, but it is only possible 
  to activate when on a hallucinogenic substance.
  Mage Sight
  Entheogens open the senses, both physically and 
  spiritually. Assume that any human who partakes of an 
  entheogen is sometimes able to view Resonance, similar 
  to the effects of one random Arcanum’s Mage Sight spell 
  (a list can be found on p. 110 of Mage: The Awakening). 
  The mortal rolls a standard Intelligence + Occult roll (as 
  per “Unveiling Resonance”) to access this, but generally 
  doesn’t understand the results. He can describe them, to 
  a point, but has little reference as to what it all means. 
  However, psychedelic drugs can also enhance a mage’s 
  own Mage Sight spells when seeking to scrutinize reso-
  nance. The mage gains a +2 bonus to the Intelligence + 
  Occult roll used to unveil resonance (pp.277-280, Mage: 
  The Awakening). 
  Sample Character
  Tabernanthe
  Quote: This is going to be tough, mon capitán. But if you 
  want to hang with me, we’ve got to first kill that little ego of 
  yours. I’ll give you ten minutes to say goodbye.
  Background: Tabernanthe – once Stuart Smith 
  – was a heroin addict with a shattered life. His family 
  was in ruins in the wake of his addiction. He ended 
  up broke and homeless, living on the streets, doing 
  whatever ugly act was necessary to earn him the 
  next fix. Upon overdosing and nearly dying, Smith 
  found himself in the hospital with no family will-
  ing to visit him. Only an old college professor of his 
  from NYU, Carl Grunberg, dared to visit. Grunberg, 
  an anthropology professor, set Smith on a journey that 
  would change his life and end his addiction. He put 
  Smith on a plane, and accompanied him to the Bwiti 
  people of Africa. There, the Bwiti dosed him with a tea 
  brewed from extracts from the root of the Iboga tree. 
  The dose was massive. 
  Ibogaine, an alkaloid found in the root of the tree, 
  is a powerful and long-acting psychoactive. The Bwiti 
  use it as an initiation into the tribe, and make it a fun-
  damental part of various tribal ceremonies. Ibogaine is 
  also useful in interrupting opiate addictions, routing the 
  dependency wholesale. 
  It worked, but the trip wasn’t easy. The effects of the 
  entheogen lasted well over 48 hours. Smith experienced 
  awful physical side effects: vomiting, ataxia, and seizures. 
  The mental experience was harrowing, as well – Smith 
  
  147
  CHAPTER FOUR: THE FRINGE
  witnessed the steady crumble of his life through each of 
  his five senses, but at the end of the hallucinations he was 
  greeted with a powerful being made of white light and 
  tree leaves. The entity looked upon him with a thousand 
  eyes and told Smith that he was now Tabernanthe, and 
  was made clean. The entity then entered Tabernanthe, 
  taking “residence” within him. Afterward, a Bwiti tribes-
  man explained only by saying a phrase common to his 
  people: “In Church, they speak of God. With Iboga, 
  you live God.”
  That was five years ago. Since that time, Tabernanthe 
  has become something of a prophet, a central figure in a 
  small urban sect that believes the trip of the ibogaine root 
  is necessary to know God and His powers. He doesn’t 
  espouse a Christian God, not exactly, but believes that 
  all entities (especially those he witnesses on his various 
  psychoactive trips) are part of the same pantheistic be-
  ing. He allows these beings into his body, possessing 
  him for as long as they care to allow. He encourages his 
  people to do the same, destroying their egos so that such 
  divinity can take up temporary residence within their 
  hollowed-out psyches.
  Description: Tabernanthe is tall, thin, with playful 
  eyes that overlook gaunt cheeks. He keeps his hair closely 
  shorn to a faint stubble, but maintains a long goatee that 
  he braids. He wears whatever retro-stylish clothing he can 
  find at the local Salvation Army. 
  Storytelling Hints: Despite espousing the death of the 
  ego, Tabernanthe is something of an egomaniac these days. 
  He’s very self-righteous, believing that he holds powerful 
  truths that can help anybody overcome their demons, 
  addictions, and frailties. To those who will listen to him, 
  he is utterly kind and friendly. To those who give off even 
  a hint of disbelief in him and his “powers,” he utterly 
  dismisses until they perform some act of attrition to get 
  back into his good graces. (Note that, if encountering a 
  mage, he won’t hear anything about a mage’s alternate 
  ideas of reality, magic, or psychoactive substances. It is, 
  essentially, his way or the highway. Opposing modes of 
  thought are unwelcome.)
  Mental Attributes: Intelligence 4, Wits 3, Resolve 3
  Physical Attributes: Strength 2, Dexterity 3, 
  Stamina 3
  Social Attributes: Presence 3, Manipulation 4, 
  Composure 2
  Mental Skills: Academics (sociology) 3, Computer 1, 
  Crafts 1, Investigation 2, Medicine 3, Occult (shaman-
  ic) 3, Politics 1, Science 1 Physical Skills: Athletics 2, 
  Larceny 2, Stealth 1, Survival 3
  Social Skills: Empathy 1, Expression 2, Intimidation 1, 
  Persuasion (double-talk) 4, Socialize 3, Streetwise 1, 
  Subterfuge 3
  Merits: Fast Reflexes 2, Holistic Awareness, Inspiring, 
  Language (Bwiti), Meditative Mind, Unseen Sense
  Willpower: 5
  Morality: 5 (Hallucinogen Persisting Perception 
  Disorder, mild)
  Virtue: Faith
  Vice: Pride
  Initiative: 7
  Defense: 3
  Speed: 10
  Health: 8
  Ego Death?
  Death of the ego generally refers to the 
  point during a head trip where the user 
  loses the sense of boundary between him-
  self and his environment. He is the world, 
  and the world is him. 
  
  148
  
  149
  CHAPTER FIVE: GLOBAL MYSTIQUE
  Chapter Five: 
  Global Mystique
  They swept through the village like ghosts from a time 
  long past, curious crosses hanging like pendants around their 
  necks. Something old accompanied them, an air of antiquity. 
  Although they rode through the rough streets of town in a 
  new Aston Martin, dust followed them as if their car were a 
  horse charging through the Levant. Alternately they peered 
  over each other’s left shoulders and looked at the ground, then 
  up to the night sky.
  They prayed often, around their cold campﬁ re that they 
  favored instead of the run-down hostel where many of the 
  pilgrims to this almost forgotten village took their rest. 
  To be so obviously rich, and yet to sleep on the ground like a 
  vagrant.... No one could guess what they sought, and if they 
  understood the local language, they certainly never spoke in 
  it. It was all Romance languages for them, in prayer and in 
  conversation. They bought bread and cheese by pointing and 
  waving euros around.
  Someone great must have heard their prayers, for on a 
  curiously cold night in August, a chorus of voices sang from the 
  very air itself. They were the voices of angels, the unremembered 
  language of the world before men built the tower in affront to 
  God. It was music, a song of heavenly ﬁ re, a reverie recorded 
  in tones, not words.
  The next morning they had gone, and their “horse” had left 
  no tracks in the dust. All that remained behind them was a 
  broken tablet with an inscription no one could read, a clay tab-
  let the size of a man’s forearm. A hole in the ground marked 
  their passage, similarly unreadable, but it bore the lingering 
  sense of great wealth.
  
  150
  From that place we can understand Zen Master Un Mun when he says: “Buddha is dry 
  shit on a stick” or when Zen Master Dong Sahn says: “Buddha is three pounds of ﬂ ax.” 
  We don’t need to do meditation for many, many years and wait and wait and wait until 
  this place appears. There is no place that is not Buddha’s place. There is no place that 
  does not have Buddha nature. Even though everything we see, hear and smell has Buddha 
  nature, we don’t recognize it, because of all our thinking. If we put it down, all of our 
  thinking, completely put it all down, then we become one with the whole universe. Then 
  everything we see, hear, smell… is Buddha. Everything has Buddha nature.
  — Zen Master Seung Sahn, “My Dharma Speech Is Already Finished”
  already know about these quirks and accept them. Many 
  of the Legacies from Legacies: The Sublime and Lega-
  cies: The Ancient exemplify this approach; see those 
  books for examples. In a similar manner, the Awakened 
  might know that Taoist mages, kabbalists, santeros and 
  other traditionalists all have a few tricks of their own. In 
  this case, the Storyteller’s challenge lies in balancing a 
  tradition’s special advantages with limitations, to explain 
  why every mage doesn’t follow a particular tradition. Or 
  maybe they do, but no tradition offers any systematic 
  advantage over any other. This approach gives Awakened 
  society a third dimension of distinctions that unite and 
  divide mages: their Path, their order and their tradition, 
  which can be as important or unimportant as the play-
  ers and Storytellers desire. Like the previous approach, 
  however, this merely grafts magical traditions onto Mage: 
  The Awakening without making them generators of 
  stories in themselves.
  However, occult traditions also lend themselves to a 
  particular style of chronicle, in which exploring the tradi-
  tion becomes the whole point of the story. The tradition 
  is a mystery — something hidden from other mages. The 
  characters find themselves in the same position as Sleep-
  ers who have just discovered the existence of the secret, 
  supernatural World of Darkness. They know, or suspect, 
  that something is out there, but they don’t understand it. 
  As mages, of course, the characters probably feel they 
  have less to fear from the unknown, and probably view 
  a tradition as a potentially valuable source of arcane 
  knowledge and power, rather than a threat to destroy or 
  avoid. They may be correct… or maybe not.
  Such a chronicle combines physical and intellectual 
  exploration. The characters seek new knowledge. They 
  enter new mental spaces, gaining a new view of Awakened 
  existence. Physical travel reinforces this theme. The char-
  acters cannot gain their new perspective in the comfort 
  of their sanctums. They must leave familiar territory as 
  they search for clues. If they’re lucky, their quest ends 
  in greater understanding of the Supernal — and perhaps 
  more tangible rewards ranging from new rotes to the lost 
  treasure of the Templars.
  The preceding chapters have given you seven mystical 
  traditions — seven prisms for viewing the Supernal secrets 
  of Awakened magic. Now, how can you use them in Mage 
  chronicles? You have several options.
  Most simply, they can be a bit of idiosyncrasy to make 
  characters more distinctive. A particular mage believed 
  in the tradition before his Awakening, and still filters his 
  magic through its language and symbols. For instance, a 
  mage who comes from the Caribbean might well believe 
  in Santería or some other Afro-Caribbean religion, and 
  so naturally tends to think of spirits as orishas or loa, 
  use vever in spellcasting rituals, and so on, even if she 
  later learns the Atlantis myth. A character who just 
  Awakened might also turn to an occult tradition for 
  explanations if some other mage doesn’t get to her soon 
  enough. Someone who Awakened during a drug trip, for 
  instance — or thought someone must have slipped her 
  some LSD — might turn to the entheogenic mythology. 
  Quite possibly, most or all the mages in a region follow 
  such a tradition. In China, for example, Taoism has so 
  strongly influenced all occult beliefs it would be surpris-
  ing if mages didn’t adopt some Taoist ideas and symbols. 
  Indeed, one could fairly argue that Atlantis, the Oracles 
  and Exarchs are just another myth, assembled by mages 
  (mainly Western) using their own mystical bric-a-brac 
  — Plato’s fable wedded to a quasi-Biblical war in heaven 
  between powers of light and darkness.
  In this case, occult traditions don’t really affect how 
  mages work magic or challenge their view of the secret 
  world they inhabit. Taoists, drug-trippers, santeros and 
  hoodoo men might know unusual rotes, but other mages 
  can learn them without much trouble. The Magical Tradi-
  tion Merit introduced in the Introduction to this book 
  doesn’t exist, and the player’s characters can easily follow 
  a tradition, because the magic still works the same. By the 
  same token, this approach leaves little mystery or glamour 
  to occult traditions. Nothing about the tradition is likely 
  to surprise a character who spent a week researching it 
  in a well-stocked academic library.
  Another approach is to let arcane traditions have 
  meaningful consequences for magic, but the Awakened 
  
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  CHAPTER FIVE: GLOBAL MYSTIQUE
  Chronicle Design
  Before anything else, decide on the length of your story of 
  mystical exploration: single story, story arc or entire chron-
  icle. Each choice offers advantages and restrictions.
  Devoting a single story to a tradition has the advantage 
  that the players and Storyteller do not commit to too 
  much. If you want to add this sort of mystical exploration 
  to an existing chronicle, you might consider running such 
  a one-shot scenario to see how your players respond. If 
  they are curious and intrigued, send the chronicle in this 
  new direction. If the players don’t enjoy searching for 
  the Supernal truth behind occult traditions, drop the 
  subject and no harm done.
  On the other hand, a single story doesn’t let you im-
  part much context: Players do not enjoy stopping play for 
  an hour while the Storyteller explains Taoist five-cycle 
  theory or the history of the Knights Templar. If you run 
  a one-shot, pick some aspect of the tradition that doesn’t 
  need much background information, such as a legendary 
  magic item. For instance, the characters could seek the 
  demon-quelling sword of the Taoist archmaster Chang 
  Dao-Ling. If players enjoy the scenario, you can fill in 
  the background later.
  A story arc gives more room to develop the tradition. 
  You can spread the exposition through several stories, 
  revealing background as needed and the players express 
  interest. You can also make your plots a little trickier. 
  Single stories with narrow goals run the risk of seeming 
  like a series of hoops through which the characters must 
  jump — clue A leads to threat B, with clue C as a reward 
  leading the characters to the next scene. A story arc lets 
  you give characters a range of choices, giving the players 
  a greater sense of real exploration and mystery. The flip 
  side, of course, is that the Storyteller must prepare more 
  material in advance.
  For a story arc, you should still limit yourself to part of 
  a tradition rather than shoveling the whole thing onto 
  players. As you can see from the previous chapters in this 
  book, some mystical traditions cover a lot of territory. 
  Taoism, for example, includes spirit pacts, calligraphic 
  talismans, fortune-telling, exorcism and astral projection 
  — for a start. It might be prudent to limit the story arc to, 
  say, Taoist spirit dealings. Perhaps the search for Chang 
  Dao-Ling’s magic sword leads to a broader inquiry into 
  Taoist exorcism and spirit pacts; as their reward, a suc-
  cessful cabal might gain a register of spirit servants.
  A full chronicle lets you explore a tradition as widely 
  and deeply as you and your players want. This actually 
  means less initial preparation than for a story arc. You 
  don’t have to decide everything at once: You can work 
  out the magical secrets behind a tradition as you go. If the 
  players don’t pick up one clue right away, maybe they will 
  think to look for it later, or you can slip the information 
  into another scenario. You can also vary your stories to 
  bring in hoaxes, red herrings and completely unrelated, 
  change-of-pace stories. Or, exploring the tradition can 
  itself be an ongoing subplot within a chronicle that also 
  deals with magical battles, Consilium politics, personal 
  affairs and all the other activities of a mage’s life.
  Chronicle Structure
  Storyline based on investigation tend to follow three 
  basic structures. Each structure, of course, is capable of 
  endless variation in its detail. The structure also deals only 
  with the investigative aspect of the story, not the character 
  interactions and conflicts that make the chronicle a story 
  rather than a puzzle to solve.
  The Chain
  The “chained” storyline, also called the “trail of 
  breadcrumbs,” is the simplest and most straightforward 
  structure for a Magical Traditions chronicle. In this plan, 
  one clue or encounter leads to another, until the characters 
  reach the end when all is explained. For instance, the 
  characters might start with an imbued item taken from 
  an enemy; investigating the enemy’s past leads them to 
  the mage who enchanted the item; she’s on the run from 
  the cult whose secrets she stole; at the cult’s shrine the 
  characters find an ancient manuscript; and so on.
  Indeed, the chained storyline works for just about any 
  sort of chronicle, and that simplicity and universality is 
  both its greatest strength and its greatest weakness. On 
  the one hand, characters (and players) know they have 
  a definite goal (even if they don’t know what it is at the 
  start). The players also don’t have to do a lot of thinking: 
  they just need to recognize each new lead as it comes 
  before them. On the other hand, players and characters 
  have very little choice in how to pursue the investigation. 
  Some players don’t mind that; others find it intensely 
  irritating. What’s more, the storyline can founder if the 
  players simply do not recognize the next lead or solve a 
  crucial puzzle.
  The chained storyline works best for short, self-con-
  tained stories, just because the other two models take 
  longer to run.
  The Russian Doll
  The “Russian doll” or “onion” plot is a bit less linear 
  than the chained storyline. Here, the Storyteller creates 
  a series of mysteries or layers of information. Behind 
  each explanation is a deeper layer of explanation. For ex-
  
  152
  ample, the characters might investigate a rash of demonic 
  possessions and find that the demons serve a renegade 
  Taoist who works with a local tong (a Chinese immigrant 
  organized crime group). The Taoist, however, is an emis-
  sary from a Triad based in Hong Kong (the second layer 
  of the mystery). The Triad combines gangsterism with 
  Taoist magic and mysticism — but the leaders believe they 
  follow the orders of immortal, ascended masters (the 
  third layer). When the cabal finally manages to confront 
  one of these masters, the magus claims he is actually a 
  reincarnated Lemurian adept (a fourth layer, and a jump 
  to another tradition). But perhaps the characters can 
  expose him as a Scelestus who takes his orders straight 
  from the Abyss (the inmost layer).
  The Russian doll storyline blends into the chained 
  storyline. It tends to follow a longer, slower rhythm, 
  though: characters can explore each layer of the mystery 
  for some time before they discover that it is not the final 
  secret, and some other group, entity or force is behind 
  whatever they’ve seen so far.
  This model works especially well for chronicles that 
  emphasize conspiracy or mystery, or High Weirdness 
  chronicles where traditions can intersect in surprising 
  ways. A Russian doll plot gives players a real feeling that 
  their characters have penetrated mysteries and discovered 
  forbidden secrets. If continued too long, however, a 
  Russian doll storyline stops being enticingly mysterious 
  and just becomes frustrating or silly. The players need a 
  sense that their search has an attainable goal — a final, 
  inmost secret to discover.
  See the Guardians of the Veil supplement for more 
  discussion of this story model: secrets within secrets are 
  that order’s raison d’etre.
  The Jigsaw Puzzle
  The “jigsaw puzzle” or “mosaic” storyline is the least 
  structured of the three. In this plan, characters gradually 
  accumulate bits of information that eventually add up to 
  a complete picture of the magical tradition. For instance, 
  in a chronicle that features Taoism, one story might have 
  the characters encounter calligraphic talismans, while 
  another story might focus on five-element theory and a 
  third deals with astral projection. As the characters learn 
  more about Taoism and its magic, they gain a greater 
  understanding of how the parts of the tradition fit to-
  gether, and finally how they relate to Awakened magic, 
  the Supernal World and the realms known to mages.
  The strength of the jigsaw puzzle storyline is that you 
  don’t need to send the characters in a particular direc-
  tion. If they miss one lead, why, they have others. You 
  don’t even need to plan much of the chronicle, since 
  individual stories may be linked only through their con-
  nection to a particular occult tradition. Every story does 
  not need to concern the tradition, either: the characters 
  (and players, and Storyteller) can easily take a break and 
  do something completely different without leaving an 
  important plotline unresolved.
  Each individual story had better hold the players’ inter-
  est by itself, though. As Storyteller, you can’t count on 
  the momentum of an ongoing plot to carry the players’ 
  interest through a weak scenario. (Not that you should 
  ever count on this and do less than your best, anyway.)
  Combinations
  Most likely, though, a chronicle uses more than one 
  structure, on different scales. For example, a chronicle 
  whose overall structure is a jigsaw puzzle may require char-
  acters to follow a trail of clues to find some crucial piece 
  of information. Once the jigsaw puzzle seems complete, 
  a new piece of information might reveal that the occult 
  tradition conceals a deeper layer of mystical meaning or 
  activity, giving the chronicle a Russian Doll structure.
  Style (Storyteller’s Options)
  A Magical Traditions chronicle can use any of the 
  styles described in Mage: The Awakening, but a few are 
  particularly appropriate. The whole point of the chronicle 
  is to learn something new about how Supernal myster-
  ies manifest in the Fallen World, but you don’t have to 
  present this mystical theme openly.
  Pulp Adventure
  Looking for secrets in unfamiliar places lends itself 
  to pulp sensibilities. This style features lots of action, 
  travel to exotic locations, sinister foreigners, danger 
  and romance. Mystic revelations take second place to 
  figuring out who’s part of the cult, how to penetrate 
  the secret temple and what they’re really up to. The 
  plots tend to be simple: Find a clue or lead, follow it to 
  the next scene, encounter a threat, find the next lead. 
  The rewards tend to be tangible: a powerful Artifact, a 
  jewel-encrusted idol or the like. Action-adventure is the 
  easiest of all styles for games, and is often a lot of fun. 
  Don’t discount this option.
  The Templar Treasure, Santería and Taoism lend 
  themselves easily to this style. Theosophy is a little more 
  of a stretch, but the connection to the mysterious Ori-
  ent — well, it was mysterious to Madame Blavatsky and 
  her followers — means that characters can journey to 
  far-off-lands, encounter lost races and enigmatic gurus, 
  and all sorts of pulpy goodness. (The lost continent 
  angle of Theosophy also suggests adventures in magical 
  
  153
  CHAPTER FIVE: GLOBAL MYSTIQUE
  archeology: See Secrets of the Ruined Temple for ways 
  to pursue this angle.)
  High Weirdness
  The whole premise of Mage is that the world is much, 
  much stranger than most people imagine. A Magical 
  Traditions story can easily play up this aspect, whether 
  the tradition is old or new.
  An occult tradition such as Kabbalah or Taoism lets you 
  contrast the ancient and modern and mash them together 
  — the weirder and more unexpected, the better. For instance, 
  a Taoist priest or apothecary in Chinatown is right at home. 
  A Taoist car dealer (like Elvis Quan, on p. 61), plumber or 
  banker in an ordinary suburb might surprise players and 
  make them wonder what other weirdness is in store. A 
  kabbalist rabbi is no stretch, either — but at least you could 
  give him a high-end computer system to handle the gematria 
  calculations. Where players expect the archaic, bring in 
  something contemporary. Where they expect the familiar 
  and contemporary, bring in the exotic and archaic.
  A new “tradition” such as the entheogenic cults practi-
  cally begs for a High Weirdness treatment. Such traditions 
  have no past to lend them an air of respectability; they 
  were born on the fringes and on the fringes they remain. 
  Simply forcing characters to take such ideas seriously 
  draws them beyond the fields they know. Fringe beliefs 
  also tend to bleed into each other, so an inquiry into 
  drug cults (for instance) can easily become a magical 
  mystery tour through Ufologists, conspiracy theories, 
  Hollow Earthers, crystal gazers, quantum mystics and 
  the whole weird panoply of pseudo-science and New Age 
  fads. Start anywhere, link it to anything.
  The High Weirdness style also tends to juxtapose mythic 
  tropes with pop culture. The effect can be funny, unsettling 
  or both. For example, many mythic traditions include 
  journeys to the Underworld that test a hero’s courage, 
  willpower or insight. In a High Weirdness chronicle, the 
  harrowing of Hell might happen symbolically through a 
  journey into the bad part of town or into the subway tun-
  nels — or the actual Abyss or a death-realm might manifest 
  as a high school, shopping mall or cubicle farm.
  Horror
  In the World of Darkness, any style of chronicle tends 
  to have an edge of horror. You can push that aspect just 
  by making the surprises nasty, emphasizing the uglier 
  aspects of human nature and killing off supporting cast 
  members now and then. Almost any tradition can receive 
  a horrific twist. If it isn’t a deceit of the Exarchs or an 
  Abyssal trap, just ponder what the tradition members 
  with real power must have done to hide that power from 
  the Sleepers. What entities really speak in the visions of 
  drug-trippers and floaters in isolation tanks? What was 
  the true agenda of the Theosophical mahatmas, and what 
  will they do to anyone who penetrates their secrets?
  Hooks
  Once you decide what sort of story you want and 
  what tradition to use, give thought to why the characters 
  embark on the story in the first place. Why go looking 
  for magical truth behind the occult? Why this particular 
  tradition, and not some other one? You need to give 
  characters a motive.
  Some players make it easy: They create characters who 
  already want to go in the direction you have planned. If, 
  for instance, someone makes an Awakened ethnologist 
  who sees magic as a nifty way to study other cultures, all 
  you have to do is suggest (through the persona of one of 
  her colleagues, perhaps) that Santería might be interesting, 
  or Taoism, or whatever. More likely, though, the most 
  you can hope for are characters who are not opposed to 
  exploring other traditions. If you start a chronicle from 
  scratch and your players agree that a Magical Traditions 
  storyline sounds fun, setting hooks will be pretty easy 
  — but you still need to give the characters a reason to 
  sally forth in search of occult secrets.
  Story hooks divide into carrots and sticks. A carrot 
  promises something good, that the character wants; a 
  stick threatens something bad, that the character wants 
  to avoid. Many classic carrots and sticks work as well for 
  a Magical Traditions storyline as for any other plot.
  Personal
  Characters may embark on the storyline because of 
  personal connections. Perhaps someone close to the 
  character goes looking for the Templar treasure, joins 
  a Santería congregation or buys a Taoist manuscript at 
  an antiquities auction. A friend, lover, relative or pro-
  fessional colleague might find a lead to something the 
  mage would find useful (a carrot) or get in trouble and 
  need rescuing (a stick).
  The patron is another sort of personal motivator. 
  Some potential benefactor offers to help the characters 
  if they do some job for her, and this involves exploring 
  an occult tradition. Whether an eccentric tycoon hires 
  the cabal to find the Holy Grail or a Consilium leader 
  seeks the suppressed writings of Timothy Leary makes 
  little difference. As a story hook, though, the patron 
  has the disadvantage that characters do not start out 
  intrinsically interested in the tradition itself; they just 
  want to do the job and get the reward.
  Rivals or outright enemies supply a variety of sticks. If char-
  acters learn that hated rivals now search for Lemurian artifacts 
  
  154
  at Nan Madol, odds 
  are the cabal soon goes to the South 
  Pacific as well. After all, what if their enemies 
  succeed? Maybe the hated rivals already have: The 
  Consilium lauds them for discovering a long-lost rote, 
  or they have attacked the cabal using a powerful 
  artifact. Whether for self-defense or one-upsman-
  ship, the characters want to find out whatever their 
  enemies learned, and do them one better.
  Treasure
  Objects make good story hooks too. Give the 
  characters a clue to something they find valuable, 
  such as the long-lost grimoire of Rabbi Loew or a 
  Taoist master’s demon-quelling sword, and that 
  may be all you need to start the story. (It does help, 
  though, if you give the characters a special need for 
  such a sword or grimoire.) One clue leads to another, 
  and off they go! Naturally, to find the “treasure” the 
  characters must investigate other aspects of the as-
  sociated tradition as well.
  Another approach is to put the “treasure” directly in 
  the characters’ hands — but other people want it, and 
  these people already know more about it. If the “trea-
  sure” is a powerful imbued item or a grimoire of rotes, 
  the cabal will probably want to keep it and find out how 
  to use it themselves. Naturally, learning how to use the 
  item requires understanding the tradition from which it 
  comes. This approach combines a carrot with a stick: the 
  prospect of power with a threat from people who want 
  to seize that power for themselves.
  Places of power form a special 
  class of treasure. Several traditions 
  ascribe special power or significance to 
  particular locations, such as the caverns be-
  neath Mao Shan, the secret redoubts of the 
  Mahatmas, Mount Sinai or Roslyn Chapel. 
  The place of power may be a Hallow or other 
  magically potent site, or simply a place where 
  characters gain important information.
  Mystery
  Sometimes you can motivate characters just by pre-
  senting them with a puzzle. Mages know that enigmas 
  often lead to power — or hint at dangers to come. 
  Either way, they need investigating. A mystery can 
  take many forms, from an ancient tablet scribed 
  in unknown glyphs (Taoist cloud script? Rmoahal? 
  Extraterrestrial?) to a stranger on the sanctum doorstep 
  who gasps out, “The stone from Heaven!” before his 
  head explodes (A curse? Illuminati bomb in the skull? 
  Sniper). The possibilities are almost endless; look through 
  each tradition for strange phenomena, curious customs 
  or bits of occult lore that could tempt and baffle mages 
  who encounter them out of context.
  Conﬂ icts
  William Faulkner said that great drama is about the 
  soul in conflict with itself, but Storytelling games gen-
  erally need a larger cast of characters. Occult traditions 
  can generate conflicts that drive stories. Mages outside 
  
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  CHAPTER FIVE: GLOBAL MYSTIQUE
  a tradition may come into conflict with its followers. 
  Advocates of two traditions may themselves come into 
  conflict, and draw in outsiders. Conversely, members of 
  a tradition may be drawn into conflicts between outside 
  forces. Finally, traditions themselves suffer infighting 
  because of variations in doctrine, ethnic differences or 
  just the conflicts between rival leaders.
  It’s not hard to see how mages and traditions can come 
  into conflict (especially for mages who follow traditions 
  themselves). Mages believe they know The Truth, revealed 
  through their Awakening and their training. They do not 
  easily accept the idea that their transcendent, Supernal 
  truth may itself be just another theory — a little closer to 
  the truth than most of what Sleepers believe, but still not 
  the whole truth. A mage who believes in an occult tradi-
  tion has experienced Awakening but may interpret that 
  experience in quite a different way than other mages. A 
  tradition-believing mage most likely dismisses any other 
  story as mythology or delusion — including the story of 
  Atlantis and the war of Exarchs and Oracles.
  History shows that disagreement about the funda-
  mental nature of reality seldom stays limited to polite 
  academic debates. When the partisans of incompatible 
  dogmas meet, they soon go from trying to convince each 
  other to trying to conquer or kill each other — witness 
  the wars between Catholics and Protestants in Europe, 
  Christians and Muslims in the Middle East, Muslims 
  and Hindus in India, or capitalists and Communists in 
  the Cold War. In the modern world, mages, and Sleepers 
  who think they have magical powers, do not have much 
  power to mobilize armies for real wars. Arcane societ-
  ies, however, can still fight in ways that draw characters 
  into stories.
  Characters themselves might be tasked to attack a 
  traditionalist group to destroy it or force its submis-
  sion. (Loot, in the form of magical items, grimoires or 
  other sources of magical power, can also motivate the 
  attack.) Instead of an overt assault, the attack may take 
  the form of espionage or subversion — or conversion to 
  the true doctrine.
  Of course, the players’ characters may find their own 
  cabal the target of such an attack by traditionalists who 
  view them as deluded heathens. The traditionalists might 
  regard the characters’ enchanted items and grimoires as 
  just so much loot — and if the characters acquired an 
  item connected to the tradition, its partisans may view 
  its recovery as well worth a small war. The characters can 
  find themselves the targets of hostile spells and spirit 
  minions in a battle of bewitchment. A cunning foe can 
  also attack Sleepers the characters care about, perhaps 
  including attempts to control them or convert them. On 
  its home turf, a tradition’s believers might be able to call 
  upon large numbers of devoted Sleepers, who may well 
  include civic leaders, law enforcement or even organized 
  crime. For instance, Taoist priests and Afro-Caribbean 
  santeros and houngans sometimes enjoy high status as 
  community religious leaders. Piss off the wrong santero, 
  and you may find a heavily armed Cuban gang shooting 
  up your sanctum.
  Just trying to learn about a tradition might spark a 
  conflict. True believers may want to preserve their sacred 
  mysteries from ignorant outsiders who would profane 
  them (something any Guardian of the Veil should un-
  derstand). At least, believers might not like seeing their 
  doctrines and practices treated as raw material for a study 
  in mystical anthropology. Mages who want to study a 
  tradition had best take pains to show their respect and 
  sincere desire to learn.
  Arcane battles can draw in people who never intended 
  to participate. If two groups of mages slug it out, their 
  dupes and minions (mortal and otherwise) may cause a 
  fair bit of havoc among the innocent bystanders. When 
  arson-curses burn down buildings and innocent people go 
  on involuntary, homicidal or suicidal drug trips, a cabal 
  of mages might not care what beef the santeros have with 
  the entheogen cultists — but they probably won’t ignore 
  it. Conversely, if two groups of mages start tearing up the 
  city, they shouldn’t expect an Awakened Taoist to stand 
  by meekly if the fighting spills into Chinatown.
  Even if a Consilium enjoys friendly relations with one 
  group of traditionalists, that doesn’t mean they’ve made 
  friends with other followers of the tradition. That alliance 
  may itself become a casus belli for a rival group that hates 
  heathens and heretics. Friendly relations with one tradi-
  tion can also spark enmity with another. For instance, 
  allying with a group of latter-day Templars could bring a 
  cabal or Consilium in conflict with latter-day Hashishim 
  who never stopped fighting against Crusaders.
  Finally, encountering a tradition may provoke conflict 
  among the players’ characters themselves. Some characters 
  might find a tradition’s doctrines or practices offensive. 
  For instance, one character might want to study an en-
  theogenic cult from the inside, while another character 
  thinks it’s foolhardy to conduct such experiments with 
  your own mind and body. Such conflicts can test the 
  strength of a cabal in unexpected ways.
  Twists
  To maintain interest during story arcs, reveal that 
  something connected to the tradition is not what the 
  character’s thought. For instance, thanks to The DaVinci 
  Code everyone now knows the idea that the Holy Grail is a 
  
  156
  coded reference to a secret bloodline descended from Jesus 
  and Mary Magdalene. Of course, the whole premise of 
  Magical Traditions is that Sleeper occult traditions conceal 
  Supernal, or at least magical, realities — but Storytellers 
  can go beyond this basic twist. Basic twists include:
  It’s Real:  Something the characters thought was 
  just a symbol turns out to be literally true or concretely 
  exists. For example, most mages probably would think 
  that drug-trippers who report meeting aliens merely hal-
  lucinated, or at most, they perceived spirits in Twilight. 
  Wouldn’t they be surprised if the aliens turned out to be 
  real, honest-to-God extraterrestrials… that are perceptible 
  only by people who ingest certain chemicals? Or take 
  the immense cavern-realms that Taoists say underlie the 
  sacred mountain of Mao Shan. At most, mages might 
  believe in astral or spiritual domains. Wouldn’t that be 
  interesting if mages explored a tunnel beneath one of 
  Mao Shan’s monasteries and found themselves in one 
  of those paradise-caves?
  It’s Symbolic: Something the characters thought really 
  existed turns out to be an allegory or a disguised clue 
  pointing somewhere else. For instance, maybe the story 
  of the Golem of Prague actually recounts how a group 
  of kabbalists created a Jewish secret society that fought 
  back against pogroms, and then tried to disband the 
  society when it turned criminal.
  It’s Worse: The tradition gives a sanitized description 
  of something very bad indeed. For instance, the Templars’ 
  admirers said they guarded the Holy Grail. Their enemies 
  said they worshipped the demonic head of Baphomet. 
  More recently, a few ethnologists see parallels between 
  the Holy Grail and the Black Cauldron of Celtic myth, 
  which returned dead warriors to life. Maybe they are all 
  the same: the Grail was actually a skull-cup that could 
  raise the dead… as demon-possessed zombies.
  It’s a Different Tradition: Something in the tradition 
  also appears in another tradition, under another name 
  and interpretation. For instance, many traditions describe 
  some sort of spirit entities. Maybe some of them are the 
  same spirits: the green man Mescalito of the entheogenic 
  cults turns out to be the Green Man of British harvest 
  festivals; the angelic Lhas who taught the Lemurians 
  could still be around as the orishas of Santería or the 
  angels of kabbalism. This sort of twist forms an integral 
  part of Russian doll plots.
  The climax of a story arc or chronicle is a good place 
  for an especially big twist. However, this isn’t manda-
  tory. The players may consider themselves sufficiently 
  rewarded by their characters finally understanding the 
  tradition well enough to use its distinctive magic, or by 
  finally defeating an important enemy.
  The Most Important Advice
  Finally: No matter how cleverly you intertwine an oc-
  cult tradition with the cosmology and setting of Mage: 
  The Awakening, your players still want an exciting story 
  for their characters. Don’t get so wrapped up presenting 
  the tradition that you forget to include a vivid support-
  ing cast of allies, adversaries and innocent bystanders, 
  conflicts the characters can’t ignore, and choices that 
  shape the characters’ destinies. A Magical Traditions 
  chronicle should still be about the characters who inves-
  tigate the tradition — the tradition itself is actually less 
  important.
  Sample Chronicle: 
  Supernal Cargo
  As an example of how to put all this together, here’s a 
  brief proposal for a chronicle based on Melanesian cargo 
  cults. To people of the Western world, these outbreaks 
  of religious enthusiasm seem like bizarre superstition 
  from bewildered primitives. Yet this ramshackle religion, 
  assembled less than a hundred years ago in a part of the 
  world most people never think about, illustrates as much 
  about humanity’s relationship with the Supernal World 
  as any ancient occult doctrine. Perhaps it teaches more 
  than mages would really like to know.
  Cargo Cults
  The Melanesians live in the southeast Pacific, from 
  New Guinea to Fiji. For thousands of years, they lived as 
  hunter-gatherers or subsistence farmers, most of them at 
  a Neolithic level of technology. Many tribes were also ex-
  tremely isolated: the tribes of the New Guinea highlands, 
  for instance, were unknown to the rest of the world until 
  airplanes crossed their cloud-covered mountains in the 
  1930s. What’s more, every tribe speaks its own language 
  — a thousand or so tongues in New Guinea alone.
  Late in the 19th century, entities from beyond the 
  known world conquered the Melanesians. The natives 
  were helpless before the powers of these pale-skinned 
  humanoids. The French, Dutch and other Europeans 
  demanded obedience to their alien laws, but offered the 
  natives little access to their own society — except for the 
  missionaries, who told the Melanesians to abandon their 
  own faiths for Christianity. The missionaries promised 
  the Melanesians that their rituals would let them rejoin 
  their ancestors in the heaven beyond the sky, or risen 
  from the dead here on Earth.
  Destructive as the invaders were to Melanesian culture, 
  they offered wonders to the people who served them, 
  
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  CHAPTER FIVE: GLOBAL MYSTIQUE
  from guns to canned food. The Melanesians had no idea 
  where the miracle goods — “cargo” — came from, since 
  it arrived in the same ships (and later, airplanes) as the 
  invaders themselves. You couldn’t get cargo through kin-
  ship ties or barter, though; you had to use the invaders’ 
  own magic tokens, called “money.”
  Melanesian tribes tried to copy the aliens’ magic and take 
  their power. These attempts became especially common 
  after World War Two, which brought a surge of cargo 
  to more Melanesian tribes than ever. Time and again, 
  charismatic prophets said they had the secret: They knew 
  how to call the ships from the sea or the great airplane-
  birds from Heaven. Some prophets said the Melanesians 
  could join the white men. Others promised to cast them 
  out, or usurp their rule and become their masters. Their 
  followers stuck lines of poles in fields to form airstrips, 
  with a red-painted wooden cross to call the humanitar-
  ian relief flights. They built control towers of bamboo, 
  where traffic controllers wore balsa-wood headphones as 
  they mouthed the magic words. Sometimes the cultists 
  built jetties for the ships that must come. Sometimes they 
  turned their villages into mock-ups of a police compound, 
  imitating the uniforms and paperwork as best they could. 
  Other cultists built mannikins of a savior, the white man 
  Jon Frum, who would descend from Heaven in a huge 
  scarlet plane loaded with cargo, and call the ancestors back 
  to life. One way or another, the prophets would 
  bring salvation and Spam, refrigerators and 
  resurrection. Each cult failed and collapsed 
  as quickly as it appeared. Jon Frum 
  never came; the dead did not rise; 
  the white men still ruled. But the 
  Melanesians kept trying.
  From one point of view, the 
  cultists look ignorant, deluded 
  or insane. They worship figures 
  like Jon Frum who clearly do not 
  exist; they engage in rituals that 
  do not work. When the cultists 
  fail, they conclude that they didn’t 
  get the words right, they didn’t 
  carve the balsa-wood headphones 
  in quite the right shape, or they 
  just didn’t believe hard enough. 
  From a wider point of view, 
  they are simply people trying to 
  control forces and entities they 
  just don’t understand: They don’t 
  have the knowledge, the social 
  background or even the language 
  to explain their experiences.
  And besides, sometimes a ship or airplane does arrive, 
  bearing white men who give away cargo. The cult’s rituals 
  didn’t work for the intended reason, but they worked. 
  Or maybe the more recent prophets figured out the 
  real magic formula after all: Set up a cargo cult, and the 
  anthropologists will come to study it.
  Cargo cults may be an evanescent phenomenon. They 
  arose from incomprehension and oppression. In the 
  colonial age, Western masters had no interest in explain-
  ing their culture or technology to the natives they ruled. 
  Decolonization gave the Melanesian political freedom, 
  greater opportunities for education and contact with the 
  wider world. Once they had the chance, some Melanesian 
  societies jumped from the Stone Age to the Space Age 
  with astonishing ease. They know where cargo comes 
  from and how to get it, without the need for magic.
  Behind the Myth
  Compare the Melanesians to all of Sleeping humanity, 
  confronted with the realms of spirits, the dead, the Abys-
  sal and the Supernal. Entities who exist in wholly alien 
  ways sometimes intrude on the mortal world, wielding 
  uncanny powers and following codes they seldom bother 
  
  158
  to explain. Sometimes they select particular humans as 
  their agents — priests, mediums, devil-pacters and, yes, 
  mages — and give them some of their own power. Other 
  people think they have figured out the formulas to call 
  power from beyond: kabbalists, Taoists, mescaline proph-
  ets, and all the rest. Sometimes their ceremonies and 
  occult meditations seem to work; most of the time, they 
  don’t. The failures make their occult theories all too easy 
  for skeptics to dismiss or debunk. But the believers and 
  the doubters both operate without the context required 
  for true understanding. Even when an occult tradition 
  seems to “work,” does that mean the doctrines and rituals 
  are true? Or just that the believers have attracted some 
  otherworldly entity that wants to watch the show?
  For a Mage chronicle, however, cargo cults can do more 
  than supply a metaphor for humanity’s encounters with 
  the incomprehensible.
  Calling Jon Frum
  To begin with, who or what inspires the cult prophets? 
  Are they really just charismatic lunatics, or con men 
  fleecing gullible tribesfolk? (Or gullible anthropologists?) 
  Does something reach into their minds and their dreams? 
  Something as alien as the white colonists, World War Two 
  soldiers and Red Cross humanitarian workers seemed 
  to their ancestors? They try to understand the message 
  as best they can, and the cargo cult tradition gives them 
  a framework. The prophet knows that an entity of great 
  power wants to enter this world and promises to grant 
  the heart’s desire of the mortals who prepare its way. 
  What hides behind the mask of Jon Frum, the white 
  man who will drive out the other white men?
  The Melanesians themselves see Jon Frum as a savior, 
  with Coca-Cola as his sacrament. If the cargo cultists 
  cannot imagine salvation without the promise of wealth, 
  why, they have plenty of company around the world. 
  Perhaps Jon Frum is a benevolent entity — a powerful 
  spirit from the Shadow Realm, or even an Oracle. In 
  their fumbling way, the cargo cultists try to connect the 
  material world to something great and good that hates 
  poverty and oppression.
  On the other hand, perhaps the cults are just a cynical 
  game played by the Exarchs. The cargo cultists expend great 
  effort and may destroy what wealth they have — killing their 
  pigs, throwing money into the sea — for nothing. They 
  talk about overturning the world order, but they don’t 
  do anything that could really change their lives or chal-
  lenge the established power structure. The Exarchs would 
  like all of humanity to chase such mirages… and if some 
  mages are right, the Exarchs have succeeded brilliantly. 
  If it’s true (as some people claim) that tribal people are 
  closer to the mystical truth than civilized folk, the cargo 
  cults keep the Melanesians distracted while generations 
  pass and their ancient traditions are forgotten.
  There are even darker possibilities. Promising material 
  gratification in return for obedience and worship sounds 
  a lot like a deal-with-the-Devil story. Cargo cult prophets 
  often bring a message of revenge on the white folk who 
  have the wealth and the power and won’t share the secret. 
  The prophets become rich and powerful themselves, 
  while the cult lasts. Maybe some demon of the Abyss 
  inspires the prophets. If a prophet ever gathers enough 
  followers and persuades them to go beyond sacrificing 
  pigs, Jon Frum shall break through the walls of reality 
  to make this world his Hell.
  Mages who explore astral space can suggest stranger 
  options, though. If Jon Frum didn’t exist before, he 
  does now, in the dreams of the people who believe in 
  him. When many people dream alike, they can form 
  archetypes that slip from personal dreamworlds into the 
  deeper realms of astral space. Or perhaps Jon Frum is 
  a new mask for some primal archetype of generosity or 
  prosperity, reaching out from the Anima Mundi.
  Finally, who says there is only one Jon Frum? Perhaps 
  several entities seize the mask to deliver their own mes-
  sages, for their own purposes. The cultists cannot tell 
  the difference — but a mage might be able to help them 
  sift the latent astral culture hero or tutelary spirit from 
  the tempting demon or deluding Exarch.
  Cargo Artifacts
  Cargo cultists see Western consumer goods as something 
  more than everyday comforts and conveniences. They are 
  miraculous intrusions from outside their world. The Mela-
  nesians don’t know how a Jeep or a can of Vienna sausages 
  get made; they see only the cargo unloaded from the ship or 
  airplane, self-complete and inexplicable. Consider that can 
  of Vienna sausages: little rolls of meatlike substance, looking 
  a bit like seed pods or large grubs, inside a rind of metal. 
  From what eldritch tree did this strange fruit grow?
  Melanesians also divorce cargo from its context. A 
  yellow pencil can be a writing implement — or it can be 
  a bright yellow ornament for a nose piercing. A tin can 
  with a bright enameled label can become part of a chief’s 
  headdress. Most of all, though, cargo cultists divorce 
  consumer goods from their ordinariness and turn them 
  into relics of divinity.
  Mages believe that Artifacts are similarly intrusions 
  from a sacred, higher reality. Are the Artifacts for which 
  mages kill and die simply the commonplace items of the 
  Supernal World? Or at least, the vessels for powers that 
  world’s inhabitants consider ordinary?
  
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  CHAPTER FIVE: GLOBAL MYSTIQUE
  The most dramatic possibilities arise, however, if the 
  cargo cultists are in some sense correct. The World of 
  Darkness would have to be much stranger than it seems 
  (even to mages) if the goods unloaded from container 
  ships really do come from Heaven instead of China; but 
  perhaps the cultists’ faith in the sacred power of ordinary 
  objects occasionally stirs a response from the Supernal 
  World. Any mage might feel like reality is slipping under-
  foot if she finds a cargo cult venerating a Teletubby doll 
  or a microwave oven — and it’s an Artifact. No Atlantean 
  origin or mythic past; just an ordinary object, that some 
  people decided was miraculous… and it became so. A 
  gift from Jon Frum, perhaps?
  Building a Chronicle
  A chronicle cannot possibly present cargo cults as 
  something grand and mystical. They are intrinsically 
  goofy and a bit pathetic. At the same time, they grow 
  from a compost of desire, desperation and alienation 
  that isn’t funny at all. You can merge these aspects in a 
  chronicle of High Weirdness. Mash together the magical 
  and mythic with the absurd and contemporary to lead 
  the characters, laughing, into horror.
  Use bizarre juxtapositions of sacred symbols with con-
  sumerist banality as a leitmotiv throughout the chronicle 
  — maybe start the chronicle in the holiday shopping 
  season, when stores use a Savior’s birth to hawk over-
  priced fripperies and TV intersperses religious specials 
  with smirking ads for erectile dysfunction drugs. Maybe 
  there’s a bit of the cargo cultist in all of us.
  Supernal Cargo starts out as a chained plot. One clue 
  leads to another, with the cargo cult at the end. At the 
  story arc’s climax, however, the cargo cult stands revealed 
  as dupes of dark powers (something the characters may al-
  ready suspect), giving the plot a Russian doll structure.
  Sample Story Hook: Cuddle Me Eggbert
  This Artifact consists of a foot-long plush egg with a 
  face. It talks in a toddler’s voice, asking to be held, rocked, 
  and so on. It rewards appropriate behavior with coos and 
  giggles. They’re the hot new toy for the holiday season, 
  and parents are clubbing each other like baby seals to 
  claim the limited supply. This particular Cuddle Me 
  Eggbert gives prophecies (using Time 2, “Augury”; see 
  Mage: The Awakening, p. 258) — but as its predictions 
  grow more critical to its owner, it starts asking for more 
  than a cuddle. If it gets a garland of flowers, next it asks 
  for a mouse, If it gets the mouse, it demands a puppy. 
  But Cuddle Me Eggbert is almost infallible (a dice pool 
  of 12). How far will you go to learn the future? No matter 
  what your limits may be, someone else does not share 
  them. Cuddle Me Eggbert could be in the hands of a 
  rival cabal, or a businessman who is not yet ready to of-
  fer human sacrifices, but is fully willing to kill to retain 
  possession of his hotline to the future.
  This particular Cuddle Me Eggbert has already traveled 
  around the world. Its serial number marks it as one of a 
  lot that were sold to a store in Port Moresby, the capital 
  and largest city of Papua New Guinea. Its current owner 
  stole it from someone else and does not want to say who 
  (for obvious reasons) but the previous owner might seek 
  to get it back. Whichever end the characters follow, the 
  trail leads them to new Guinea, more Artifacts and a 
  new cargo cult.
  Cuddle Me Eggbert isn’t the only Artifact to emanate 
  from the cult. Other mages have found similarly peculiar 
  but potent Artifacts. Each Artifact extracts its own price 
  from the people who use it.
  Conﬂ icts
  The cargo cult’s Artifacts supply the most immediate 
  grounds for conflict. Just one or two Artifacts becoming 
  known to the mage community — with the possibility 
  of more — is enough to launch enough conflict for a 
  chronicle. Cabals, Consilii and orders scheme to wrest 
  the Artifacts from each other and race to find the source. 
  The Seers of the Throne will be as eager as any — if not 
  more so — to track down possible contacts from the 
  Supernal World. Banishers who encounter seemingly 
  ordinary items can only have their paranoia increase. 
  Only the Mad, perhaps, can really make sense of it all… 
  and when the bizarre cult Artifacts draw them out of the 
  woodwork, characters might recognize their first warning 
  of the madness to come.
  Cuddle Me Eggbert may itself provoke conflicts between 
  characters. The sentient magical toy adjusts its demands 
  to test its owners’ moral boundaries. If they won’t sacrifice 
  higher organisms to it, it requests that its owner deceive or 
  humiliate another, steal, or perform other objectionable 
  acts. Cuddle Me Eggbert tries to figure out their Vices, 
  and then exploit them.
  As various factions converge on the cult, they not only 
  attack each other, they try to force the cult’s prophet, who 
  now calls himself Elijah Lincoln, to reveal how he turns 
  ordinary objects into Artifacts. Elijah Lincoln believes 
  God has blessed the Artifacts as rewards for the faith-
  ful and to herald the coming of Jon Frum. He is not a 
  mage or even a Sleepwalker: He is a sincere, boundlessly 
  devout man who cannot imagine anything bad coming 
  from the dreams Jon Frum sends him. Nevertheless, he 
  is not helpless. His cult has a few Artifacts that can knock 
  mages for a loop, such as a cordless drill that projects 
  
  160
  Psychic Assaults (Mind 3; see Mage: The Awakening, p. 
  212). Neither he nor his followers will heed any warning 
  that calling Jon Frum from Heaven might not be a good 
  thing. What’s worse, at least some other mages want the 
  cult to perform its summoning because they think they 
  can see how the Artifacts are empowered and, perhaps, 
  acquire them.
  Twists, Revelations and a Climax
  The first twist in the plot comes when the characters 
  realize that, somehow, a group of Melanesian cultists 
  have become a conduit for vast power. Storytellers can 
  insert lesser twists as supposed allies turn out to be 
  villains, or at least enemies, while adversaries turn out 
  to be reasonable or at least operating from motives the 
  characters can appreciate.
  When all the important characters converge in New 
  Guinea, the plot reaches its climax with an attempt to 
  summon Jon Frum. Perhaps Cuddle Me Eggbert hatches 
  to release the entity that has grown powerful from the 
  offerings of sin made to it. Perhaps Elijah Lincoln poi-
  sons the sacramental Coca-Cola as a way to sacrifice 
  his followers and perhaps himself. One way or another, 
  if the characters cannot stop the cult’s final ceremony 
  they must battle an awesomely powerful Jon Frum, now 
  revealed as a horror from the Abyss, a minion of the 
  Exarchs or something Supernally empowered but alien 
  to any mythology known to mages.
  
SOURCE: textdata/thevault/Storyteller [multi]/World of Darkness (WoD) [multi]/CofD/Mage - The Awakening/Mage the Awakening - Magical Traditions.pdf