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Fantasy The Blood Moon Rises Cult List

Chordling

Bardbarian, the Divine Chordia of Concordia
Moderator
Name of Leader:

Name of Cult:

Human Form: (Image or description)

Werewolf Form: (Image or description)

Introduction: (Tell us about your clan goals, motives, history, and why someone should join. Give us some information about your cult leader. What happened when they became a werewolf?)

Influence Points: 0

Awareness: 0

Humanity:100

OR

Stress: 0

Population: Werewolf player characters roll 2d6+3. Human player characters roll 2d8+5
 
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Name of Leader: Captain Henri Radet

Name of Cult: Warriors of the Silver Moon

Human Form: 1658514623535.png

Werewolf Form: 1658514755413.png

Introduction: Captain Henri Radet joined the army at a young age and began this ascent of the ranks through his shear force of will and charisma on and off the battlefield. It had seemed like the skies were the limit for this man. At least until that fateful day when he was on leave at home. While taking a leisurely stroll through the forests of his hometown, he had heard the screams of a young woman. When he arrived on the scene, he spotted a large beast attacking a woman. Using his trusty musket (Or Whatever era appropriate weapon), he managed to get the beast away from the woman, who he told to run away. A battle ensued in which he managed to kill the beast, but not before it had bitten his shoulder.

At the time, he merely thought that it was but a flesh wound and would heal in time with medicine and bandaging. But alas, he was wrong and on the night of a full moon, had no knowledge of what he had done, except for what he could piece together. None of it good. At first, he was horrified. He had become a beast of the night. A powerful killing machine that would stop at nothing until it accomplished his goals. He had no control over his actions in that form.

As time had passed, however, he had realized that this was something that could be used against the enemies of the country. As soldiers and warriors, they could make sure that they transform on enemy soil or in an enemy encampment to demolish their foes and protect their countrymen. Even more so if they could manage to find a way to control themselves in their werewolf state. It could be an absolute boon, whether tethered or untethered from the chains of control.

He soon formed a small group of other like minded members, The Warriors of The Silver Moon, those that wished to use their powers against the foes of their nation, even if not yet their nation understood. If he managed to raise to a high rank within the military, it would be much easier to make them all understand.

Clan Goals: Infiltrate the Military Ranks and use the Power of The Change against the foes of their nation.
Gain control of The Change so that they can be more effective weapons of battle.
Enlist other Werewolves that Believe in the Cause or Eliminate those that would stand in their way.

Why Should Someone Join The Warriors of The Silver Moon?

Do you want to defend your country against those that would destroy all that stand for it?

Do you consider yourself an abomination of the unholy darkness?

Instead of sending yourself to the Silver Bullet Scouts, consider instead joining the Warriors of the Silver Moon and helping keep your country safe from not only the Darkness of unrestrained Monster Werewolves, but also the true enemies of of Nation.

Influence Points: 0

Awareness: 0

Humanity:100

Population: 8
 
Name of Leader: Julian Blackwell

Name of Cult: Grand Lodge of Celestial Order (Star Chamber - Derogatory Name)

Human Form:
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Werewolf Form:
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Introduction:
Julian Blackwell has always been a man on a mission. Initially this was to secure himself a seat in Parliament through election. He has no noble blood and lacked the connections beyond those forged during his life as the son of a merchant. The first few years of his gaining a seat in Parliament were spent being ignored or shunned by those of high birth or better social status even among the merchant class. It was during a trip to one of his properties outside the capital that he was bitten and turned into a werewolf. It brought about a significant change in Julian, as he opted to use his shunned status to begin assembling a voting bloc together under the guise of a mystical society that used secrecy to make itself appealing.

The Grand Lodge of Celestial Order is known in Parliament, but only as a political group with ridiculous rituals and rites they use in their secret meetings to discuss policy and voting plans. Julian has made enemies in Parliament after building this secret society, but has also used it as a farce to build his werewolf cult. He has turned other Grand Lodge members into werewolves and even indoctrinated mortals with the promise of conversion so long as they support the group. Even now the true cult labors to maintain the farce that the Grand Lodge is simply a social and political group, draped in theatrical secrecy and rites to further bind its members in loyalty.

Julian makes a point to find various occult books and works to add to this veneer. This conceals a deeper desire to learn control over his nature, to alter it and improve upon it. The call has come from beyond that he must become more powerful. The Grand Lodge therefore has become a complex multi-layered scheme for power and evolution as a werewolf. He intends to use the power-hungry who join to feed resources to this cause even as he continues to dominate them in ritual, rite and oath.

Clan Goals:
The Grand Lodge seeks nothing short of dominance in Parliament and over the offices of government. The masses are sheep needing guidance. The Grand Lodge must position itself to control the government. If possible, a new government should be formed around the Grand Lodge as a foundation for a new future for the country. The Age of Kings is over. The Age of the Wolf is at hand.

Behind this is something deeper, a hidden agenda to evolve the werewolf condition to a higher level. To create a new ruling class of werewolves in control of themselves, tapping into their nature to become more powerful than what they have originally started with. Julian Blackwell seeks to make himself something beyond his current limitations and will use the Grand Lodge to achieve this agenda even as he spins his agenda of political domination and power.

Why you should join:
If you seek power in government or parliament, the Grand Lodge of Celestial Order present a means to achieve that. They form a unified voting bloc and are notorious for hindering votes if not offered something for their support. Said support is not always needed, but the Grand Lodge is very good at sowing division in Parliament enough that their votes generally matter. Joining the Grand Lodge puts you in position to ascend to greater rank and power through their evolving web of favors and influence.

Influence Points: 0

Awareness: 0

Humanity:100

Population:
Werewolves - 10
 
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Name of Leader
Jeremiah Coombs

Name of Cult
Black Hands

Human Form
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Werewolf Form
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Introduction
Jeremiah was born in the small coal town of Winston. When he was just a boy, he was employed to work the coal mines with his siblings as only children, like he, could really get in to the smaller, tighter areas of the mines. Despite working alongside his siblings and father, the family barely made a living, for the mine, and everything else in Winston, was owned by Richard Nightly, an Earl and member of Parliament. Lord Nightly, alone, controlled the price of goods such as food, cloth, tools.. And, if a worker could not afford that, they could always offer to take it out of their next paycheck. If they needed tools? They could rent them. If the tools broke, take it out of their pay.. It was through this system that the town was utterly controlled, the people all but enslaved through contract and debt in a never ending cycle of pain, work and sickness, with no hope for a future or escape.

The young Jeremiah grew up hearing his father and uncles hacking and coughing, barely able to breath, just like most other older men in town, the Miner's Lung, the Black Lung, Lung Rot.. many names for the same thing. Something he would get to look forward to. Pain, depression and the sense of hopelessness that always rested under the false bravado of the workers was always simmering and only rarely boiling over. They were content to bicker and fight amongst themselves then attempt to rally and change anything, more then happy to lash at one another, to fight, hurt and break one another.. To vent out their emotions, to prove their 'worth' to, in some small way, take control of a small portion of their life. There were 'uprisings', at least, a few that Jeremiah could remember but they all ended the same. The workers refused to work, the Lord sent in soldiers to 'maintain order' and brought in laborers from outside the land to work as he merely waited out the people of Winston, waited for them to succumb to starvation and sickness and begrudgingly return to work, often, at reduced pay.

It was no different when Jeremiah became a man. When he married his neighbor and childhood friend, Marisha, when he had his own son who eventually went into the mines to work with him. When the Miner's Lung started to settle in to him.. It was the same future that awaited his son. At least, it should have been. It had seemed so small, miners going missing in the night, around the full moon. Just vanished. At first they thought they had been lost to the miners, claimed by gas pockets or cave ins, others that they had simply ran hoping to escape or perhaps were picked off by brigands, but more and more people disappeared. Whispers of snarling and screams in the night, of bloody rags and stains found in the woods and deep in the tunnels.. Lord Nightly thought nothing of it, even as the rumors and fears spread, but what choice did they have? They worked. Deep in the mines one night, Jeremiah toiled to try and earn just a bit more coal, just a bit more then normal, to afford a nice gift for his wife on their anniversary when it came. He did not see it, it was too fast, too dark, but he heard the howl that froze his heart, smelt the wet fur and tasted the iron in the air and then the screaming began. It wasn't until later that he realized the screaming had been his own.

He awoke in his bed days later, badly mauled, yet his body was healing, faster then it should be. He was pestered about what happened, what he saw, but what could he tell them? He did not know. The town became convinced it was an ancient spirit that had taken the form of a great bear and was hunting them, hunting them for some sin they had committed against it, but something told Jeremiah that it was dark, worse. An instinct that had begun to grow in his chest, something hideous and ugly, something feral. When he was well enough to work, he went back to it and life settled back into the same monotonous pace as it had always done. Until the moon rose to its full splendor once again and Jeremiah changed. He had been working in the mines, earn a bit more, always earn a bit more when it happened. When his flesh split, when his bones snapped and broke, twisting into a new shape, as his body was twisted to match the darkness that had been festering in his chest. Over the pain, over his howls, he thought he heard something, something familiar, a voice that cried out to him.. And then it was only red.

Jeremiah awoke naked, deep in the forest, covered in blood that was not his own. The ground around him was torn asunder and trees lay broken and split as if some great battle had taken place the night before, dazed and lost, he returned home to the news that his son, Sampson, had gone missing. Just like the miners. Vanished. He spent days looking, screaming, trying to find his boy, and Marisha wasted away. She cried and shrunk from him, unable to bear to look at him, as if she could see something in him, some dark truth that he was blind to. As the days turn to weeks, Marisha could hold on no longer and took her life in the chambers of their son. Distraught, Jeremiah drunk himself into a stupor that he could not rise from. He was content to waste away, to die in this hell hole of a town that had birthed them all when it happened again. The pain, the anger, the animal.. the power. This time, he remembered more. He remembered prowling the forest and pouncing upon a deer, tearing it limb from limb and feasting on its flesh. He remembered the power, the bestial freedom that had possessed him... It seemed insane to welcome such a monstrous change, but it gave him.. something. Something to cling to. Something to find value in. With the power of the beast, he could.. change this town that had taken his family, and moreover, whatever beast had done this to him was still out there. That beast had been the one to take his family from him... It had to be. It had to be it that had done this to him, it explained it all perfectly. Despair gave way to anger, anger gave way to vengeance and vengeance... gave birth to purpose.

Why You Should Join
T-Shirts and free cookies
Do you believe the common folk is exploited for the benefit of the wealthy?
Do you believe the current system is designed to enforce his dynamic?
Do you believe this is right?

Clan Goals
To bring about revolution and change in how the common workers and people of the nation are treated through whatever means is necessary.

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Influence Points: 0

Awareness: 0

Humanity: 70

Population: 0

Theme Song

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Name of Leader: Prince Calisto Etherion Lyall

Name of Cult: The White Creed

Human Form:
1658584366121.png

Werewolf Form:
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Introduction:
Calisto Etherion Lyall is the most beautiful prince in the Kingdom. Most see him as soft, kind, and even weak. Those who view him as such cannot be blamed for how mistaken they are. It is how Calisto intended to be perceived by others, after all. It is all a facade to deceive the world.

Ruthless, decisive, and dangerous. The moment he heard of the existence of werewolves, he started plotting a scheme that ended with a werewolf captured and bound in a secret dungeon. He experimented on the interesting creature and at the end allowed himself to be 'cursed'.

Those who follow the Prince were confused, but they trust his judgment and that he must have a plan. Like the faithful subordinates they are, they followed the footsteps of their Master and also allowed themselves to be cursed.

The real reason? The white prince was simply curious and also interested in ascendance. And so that became Calisto's new objective.

Purpose: Explore a higher and greater form. Break through all limits of both humans and werewolves. Ascendance!

Influence Points: 0

Awareness: 0

Humanity:100

Population: 14
 
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Name of Leader: Elseph Deighton

Name of Cult: Midnight's Song

Human Form:
Werewolf Human Form.jpg

Werewolf Form:
Werewolf Wolf Form.jpg

Introduction: Midnight's Song, a name that means little to most, but that Elseph Deighton hopes to make mean fear and horror to all but the most bloodthirsty of human and wolves. The goal of Midnight's Song is to create nothing but chaos and bloodshed among both man and beast, aiming to drive all into despair and ruin in order to gather their strength for the Blood Moon. They are motivated only by the wolf inside and the blood which it desires, braying for more throughout their month of freedom from its control. The cult was founded soon after Elseph was turned and he lost what little control he had over his original urges, causing him to unleash himself full on his first night transformed and turning those with whom he had shared support with over their demons. Those among polite and proper company who feel the urge to kill and unleash their inner demons are the ones which the cult is most welcoming to, providing them a place to satiate their bloodlust as both a wolf and a human.

Elseph was born to a moderately affluent family and grew up learning the trade of his father, that of the doctor. However, Elseph had an inner darkness which he kept hidden from all those whom he knew, keeping it under control by slaughtering animals that he was able to capture. As time went on Elseph learned of others who had similar urges to himself and began to gather with them, often enjoying evening among their company in one of the groups homes as they discussed their own urges and desires. For years this continued until, during one of his late-night hunts, Elseph found himself the prey as he encountered a werewolf deep in the woods. Rather than being afraid he felt naught but excitement, deciding then and there that the beast would be his newest victim, or he would die to it attempting to make it such. Little of that night remains in his memory, but when he awoke in the middle of the woods the next day he was covered in blood of an unknown origin and found a scar in the shape of the beast's jaws upon his thigh. As the following month wore on, he found it harder and harder to retain his control, often times just barely holding himself back from slashing his patient's throats as he treated them. As the time for his first transformation drew closer Elseph decided that he would no longer hold himself back, intent on unleashing himself and deciding that the friends whom he had made as a result of his urges deserved to feel as he did now, free.

Influence Points: 0

Awareness: 0

Humanity:87

Population: 6
 
Name of Leader: Don Rodrigo López de Mendoza y Castañar

Name of Cult: The Litany

Introduction: Like many of the lesser sons of nobility in this age of sabers and gunpowder, Rodrigo was sent to the seminary after completing a short stay in the cathedral school at Castañar. A career in the church was the natural choice for a well-to-do family's second or third issue. It made sense for the nobility to have their spawn be part of an institution perhaps even more mysterious and insular than their own fraternity. While his brothers were taught the burdens of command, the joys of the hunt and the skills of an equestrian, Rodrigo had to make do with tomes on statecraft, church history and lengthy hagiographies of the lesser known saints. The rigidity and self-aggrandisement of the teachers at the seminary did not sit well with the young Rodrigo, who even at that early age proved to be something of a firebrand; presenting papers on the religious thought of the ancient pagans and coming to the defence of certain points raised by the heretical schismatics of the last age. It was indeed a miracle that he left the seminary a fully ordained pastor of the faith.

Soon after, at his father's insistence, Rodrigo would be called to court and serve as an advisor to the King alongside a coterie of other sufficiently well-bred servants of the church. Whilst the work was mostly clerical, it proved a welcome respite from his growing responsibilities as bishop of his diocese at Coria. Rodrigo remembers these years fondly as he tended to his vineyard alongside the ample landholdings inherited by the bishopric. He would see to the baptism of his nieces and nephews and ensure their early education at the hands of a capable governess. Whilst he never had a family of his own, his household was never without the ringing sounds of children. Coria had become something of a summer getaway for his relations, nestled as it was in the country hills. At this time, the enterprising and controversial bishop was engaged as an ambassador of the crown to the mercantile city-states east of the kingdom, across the great sea. Rodrigo would come to rue the day he accepted the King's summons and promised to take up his charge.

The journey had been mostly without issue, the seas had been calm, and the winds were particularly partial to their sails. Their envoy's welcome was also rather pleasant; the merchant lords were quick to display their generosities to their company, presenting Rodrigo with exotic spices, honeyed wine and expertly dyed silks. The negotiations had been fruitful still, with enduring friendship to the crown being well assured. Unfortunately, their stay would have to be cut short as war drums had been ringing across the peninsula. A northern usurper and warlord had made his intention to bring all of the city-states to heel and unite the region under a singular kingdom clear. Rodrigo was implored by the crown to exchange pleasantries with the brute and impress upon him the great sin of taking the life of his fellow faithful. This opportunity would never come. Far from being amiable to a conversation with a church representative, the man decided to imprison the envoy, murder the pages and servants they accompanied, and allow Rodrigo to rot in the depths of his dungeons. Without as much as ink and parchment to write home about his predicament.

He cannot remember the circumstances of his escape, only that one day, he found the cells of his door wide open and the screams of men echoing throughout the fort. After this, he can only picture sprinting through neverendingly dense forests, bleeding and bruised. What came next was a horror, a curse that would drive him beyond any semblance of sanity. The blood moon turned Rodrigo into a creature of vengeance, and the country of his captivity became his hunting ground. For how long? Even he cannot tell. Eventually, though, the hunter became the hunted, his gruesome killings having attracted the Silver Bullet Scouts, who harried the beast constantly, forcing him to take refuge inside a decaying and decrepit old church. It was here that some semblance of his old humanity returned to Rodrigo. It was here that he would start his own church. This savagery that had been foisted on him was perhaps not a curse after all. This mark of Cain that he carried was a blessing and one that had to be shared with the world at large. How else then would the meek inherit the earth?

Appearance:
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1658668048744.jpeg
Influence Points: 0

Awareness: 0

Humanity: 100

Population: 8

 
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Liam Charron Clifford : Le Feu de la Lua {WIP}

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Name of Leader: Sokovan Malloson
Pin by Hope Garrity on illustration in 2022 | Character portraits,  Victorian character art, Fantasy character design


Name of Cult: Ivory Claw

Introduction:

SOKOVAN: Sokovan was a commoner, the son of a wealthy artisan up north. He spent his younger years learning the skills of ceramics, art, and weaving, and his life was quite comfy. Until a werewolf tore through their household, killing his little sisters, and got ahold of his father. He would have died, were it not for the werewolf hunters who managed to stop the beast. He himself was scared shitless by the event. A few weeks later, his father transformed into a werewolf in front of a firing squad and was then slaughtered. It did not matter to them that he was a victim of circumstance or a survivor of a traumatic event, or that they'd leave poor Sokovan without the know-how to survive.

His father's shop was sold to the highest bidder, and he swore to himself to stop the hunters. It was only a few years later that, with some carefully lain traps, he infected himself with the curse. With the newfound power, Sokovan swore to destroy the mechanical afront to nature known as the Silver Bullet Scouts, who claim to be better yet hold twisted motives behind a facade of "doing the right thing." He found others who had been stripped of everything because of corruption and paranoia, and enrolled them into his cause.

GOAL: The Ivory Claw's primary goal, above survival and growth, is to destroy the corruption of the military and
Pin on fenrir
government.

MOTIVE: These officials and executives took away our status, our loved ones, and our very souls. Now it's time to repay the favor.

REASONS TO JOIN:
  • pop tarts and cookies
  • fight against the corrupt 1%
  • get power to level the playing field and right the wrongs committed against you
Influence Points: 0

Awareness: 0

Humanity: 100

Population: 11
 

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