A ERON , A NGEL

OF

R AGE

Aerons Vault
The chaos is ended. The vault of Aeron is formed to train demons in all the skills they will need on Erebus.
It could be thought of as a great academy, but its closer to say that it is a great temple. Demons learn to fight,
lie, and channel power. They learn the great deceptions, and to subjugate themselves to their superiors.
Through this training they become a part of the infernal hierarchy. Priests as well as warriors, commanders
and soldiers.
Many demons are tasked with missions in Erebus as part of this training. Imps are students early in
their training. Many of the intelligent demons in Erebus are just in a stage of their training here. Those that
have passed beyond this vault are the most rare and powerful of processed souls, demonic lords and princes.
Occasionally particularly vile petitioners (priests of the veil, etc) will skip all the earlier stages and
start here in Aerons vault ready for training.
Odio
S e e O d i o s P r i s o n

Calabim
The Age of Ice almost spelt the end of the vampires. When the vast sheets spread over the once-fertile land,
their main source of food, humanity, started to become scarce and ever more concentrated in small tribes.
Fearing a fate worse than death, the shadowy almost-death of a vampire deprived of fresh nourishment for
centuries, most vampires tried to cling to the ever-shrinking communities of survivors. A lone vampire
trapped in a small group of people quickly switches from hunter to prey. One by one, the vampires were
dispatched to the afterlife.
Of those few vampires who escaped the hunters, most took to a feral existence, living off whatever
inferior blood they could scavenge in the wild, preying off the occasional human unfortunate enough to be
caught alone. But some wise few realized that the only path to survival lay in making the natural transition
from parasite to master.
Lead by the ancient siblings Alexis and Flauros, a small group of surviving vampires adopted a
rag-tag tribe of humans. Using their powers as immortals, unaffected by cold, or exhaustion, gifted with
incredible vision and speed, they made sure the tribe had plenty of food. And all they asked in return was an
endless, expendable resource: A few drops of blood. But a vampires powers are not restricted to
supernatural senses and strength-their great power is in the mind.
Slowly but surely, using their natural powers of guile and persuasion, and dangling the Dark Gift
as bait to lure the best and strongest humans into helping them, the vampires wormed their way to the top of
their little society. Few wished to oppose them, and risk losing their valuable hunting skills. Those who did
had accidents, or simply disappeared.
When the humans finally realized what was happening, it was too late. They were trapped in a
hellish situation, little more than cattle for a growing class of parasitic nobility, and they had been trapped
there of their own free will.
Now, Flauros and Alexis are the Grand Prince and Princess of a depraved and hopeless society of
bloodpets and slaves, controlled by the Grand Broods, the vampire families that rule each city as their own
personal estate farms, living in decadent luxury, and sating their lust for blood at will. The Calabim are the
apex of vampire evolution, an abomination that is the natural enemy of all holy nations.
Alexis
Adopted daughter of Os-Gabella and elder sister of Flauros, Alexis is the queen and first of the vampires.
Raised by an immortal mother, she was faced with her own mortality and unwilling to accept that she would

be the first in the Bair of Lacuna to die. To get her over her fear of death, Os-Gabella took her to the crude
villages of early men and showed her how they lived and died. Wishing to examine this death more closely,
Alexis came to the village at night and killed a shepherd.
The shepherds death didnt answer her questions: she saw no spirit leaving his body and his body
grew cool, but if his life went anywhere she couldnt see the change. Alexis had access to the teaching of
Ceridwen, who had built the Bair of Lacuna and had surrounded it in runes that keep the unwelcome from
entering it from other planes, and those imprisoned within it from leaving through the same means. These
last runes Alexis used at the site of her second killing, a young acolyte of Lugus named Lanthis.
Lanthis lay dying but unable to die within Alexiss ring of runes, his spirit unable to escape to the
vault. Cut and battered within the circle, Lanthis writhed in agony while Alexis watched. When she tired of
watching, Alexis stepped into the circle and allowed Lanthiss spirit an escape, into her. To transition the
spirit she touched him, kissing him on his blood soaked forehead. At that moment, at that taste of blood, the
first vampire was born. Alexis didnt become possessed by the spirit, she consumed it and her mortal life
was extended because of it.
Over the next few centuries, she shared the secret with her brother and they parted from their
immortal mother and began hunting men in a variety of guises. One life could extend their own for 20 to 30
years so they didnt hunt often but they were a legendary threat to men from creation.
What do I keep in the pot? The hearts of those that love me.
on Pottery
Flauros
Do you have a name? the Chamberlain asked her. He had the signs of nobility: the dull yellow eyes, the
pale complexion, and most of all, the perpetual sneer. She held back a shudder.
Taerry, sir, the young lady murmured.
Listen close, girl. Dont give him your name unless he asks. Dont call him anything but My Lord
or Master. And if you ever want to see your family again, do everything he asks. Are we clear?
Yes sir, she replied, and the Chamberlain turned away without another glance at her, shutting the
door as he did. Taerry allowed herself a few furtive glances around the bedroom as she sat on the very corner
of the bed. It was filled with extravagances she didnt even know existed. She noticed silk sheets and
curtains, tapestries centuries old and still vibrant, furniture carved from ancient fir trees imported from half
the world away, and a tall mirror coated in pristine silver. Taerry knew she was out of place as she looked at
herself in the mirror, huddled small and dirty in her wool gown.
The door opened suddenly, drawing her attention sharply to him. He made the rest of the room seem
as ordinary as the dirt on her boots. He was handsome in a way she had never seen before in the weary folk
of her village or the arrogant nobles that lorded it over them. With piercing eyes and a tall, sleek frame, he
looked like he stepped out of an earlier time, when men were one step removed from the gods themselves.
And he carried himself the same way, with an air that simply acknowledged the rest of the world as
belonging to him with no need to prove it.
Taerry felt all the smaller when he stood facing down at her. Hello child. Dont be afraid, he said.
Im sure you have heard all sorts of stories about me.
No, milord.
He smiled. I saw you working in the field, my dear, and asked for you to be brought here. Living in
the castle, as I do, can be very isolating. It is not good for a ruler to forget what his people are like. Whats
your name?
Taerry, milord.
And have you a family, Taerry? he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. She started involuntarily
at his touch, and his eyes narrowed sharply. I asked you not to be afraid, Taerry.
Milord, Im not, its just Ive not been with a man alone before. Since mother died and my father
sent the suitors away so I could help the little ones, I mean.

He grasped her other shoulder now, forcing her to look him in the eyes. Ah, Taerry, relax. Forget
about that now. You dont need to worry about suitors or your parents any more.
She wanted to protest, but she saw the menace in her eyes. Yes, Milord.
The pain wasnt as bad as shed been told it would be. After a bit, she let her mind wander,
imagining that she was not being taken in this Kings bedroom, but rather in her own humble, flee-ridden
bed, and that this man was not her King, taking royal prerogative, but her husband
She let out a sharp gasp of pain. Master, stop! The pain in her neck intensified and she felt her
blood pour down her neck. She cried again, thrashing around, desperate to get away. The man gave no
response to her plea for mercy. At last she fell silent, and the world faded to black around her.
The Chamberlain met him as he open the door to his bedroom, clad in a silk robe. On the bed behind him lay
a young girl, her skin drained of all color, lying in a puddle of blood. Flauros wiped his mouth.
Is she still alive, Milord? asked the Chamberlain greedily.
As much as she ever was. Do with it as you will.
Alexis noted his unkempt appearance with a sneer as he walked into the throne room and slouched
into his throne. Must you play with your food, brother?
Alexis, if you are around until the end of world, you wont have lived a day in your life with that
attitude. Food is to be savored, and there is no flavor quite as exquisite as a maiden with that heady mix of
emotions as shes plucked. So did I miss the Kuriotate ambassador?
Yes, just. He offered peace, naturally.
And you sent him home with a no?
Im sure the baby King will deduce the answer when his ambassador fails to return. Id never
dream of wasting the food, even if it smells like horse.
See, sister dear? I have my games, and you have yours.
S e e Al s o
Pillar of Chains

Losha Valas
Three generals sat in the antechamber, awaiting their summons to the throne room. One, a battle-hardened
veteran, sat cold and stoic while the second man, younger and newer to his position, fidgeted nervously. The
woman yawned and gazed out the window. Soon the doors opened and they were ushered in and arrayed
themselves before the dual thrones. The guards left, leaving the three alone with Alexis and Flauros.
Alexis arose at once, walking swiftly towards them. You three were ordered to hold our new
settlement of Pavunar! Yet before you even returned to me, like beaten dogs, my scouts have informed me
that our city is ruined! Tell me what happened and why I shouldnt consumewhy I shouldnt have you
killed.
Sheol, your report first, Flauros interjected. He still slouched on his throne but his gaze narrowed
upon the younger man.
Yes Master, Mistress. We on Perdions orders we split our command into three upon reaching the
town. I took charge of the hunters. We headed for the hills and forests, finding the enemy well before they
neared Pavunar. My, um, I broke my units into small groups to harass the enemy as they marched, and
dispatched the scouts with information on their numbers and makeup back to Losha and Perdion. I continued
to pick off the enemy through the month as they laid siege to the town. Then, the gates of the town opened! I
had not force enough to beat the enemy, Masters I must report that it was Losha and Perdion that failed
you.
You all failed, fool, Alexis snarled. She stomped back to her throne and sat, withering Sheol with
her glare.
Perdion, pray continue the tale, Flauros said.
It is as Sheol said, Masters, though I must place the blame squarely on Loshas shoulders. I took the

shock troops and left her the archers and the settlers to arrange defense of the town. She should easily have
been able to hold out all season, though the number of the enemy turned out to be larger than we expected. I
returned to nearby Acaia to gather more forces, and was on my way back when I received the news the
settlement had been razed. I left my men garrisoned there and returned when summoned. So clearly Losha
cost us the battle, the general finished, stepping back and bowing his head.
Flauros smiled. Losha, it appears as I have often told my sister: the weaker sex lacks judgment as
well as strength. But please, tell your story, and we shall see.
Losha calmly began. It is as they say, my prince and princess, though they underestimate the
numbers of your foes. They had many times the number we set out with. In a battle we might have taken
them, but the deaths of our troops would have been a great loss. So I decided that the loss of the settlers was
preferable to battle.
How dare you! You were ordered to hold the settlement!
My Mistress, I have the orders here with me. It says, stop the invading army when they reach our
town of Pavunar. That is what I did.
Losha, you just said that you lost the settlers.
Oh did I forget to mention? Before I abandoned the townand its annoying inhabitantsto the
enemy, I poisoned the food stores, and the wine, and the water.
Alexis blinked; Flauros sat upright in his throne. Sheol, Perdion, you may leave, your orders will
be forthcoming. Losha, stay. The young man skittered out, and the older man followed, but not before
giving Losha a cruel smile.
So have I angered my Masters? Losha asked.
Dear Losha, Alexis said with a smile, you have redeemed yourself utterly. Come, we have a gift
for you.
Vampire
Every vampire on Erebus can trace their lineage to Alexis or Flauros, the first vampires born in ages past.
Some of the first to receive the gift from them live on to the present, ruling clans and cities, and keeping
their offspring in check. Spoiled and accustomed to power, life under the rulership of a vampire is a harsh
existence, with the perpetual dread of being invited to a feast. Humans ruled by vampires in the Age of
Rebirth responded one of two ways: with resigned depression, or fanatical devotion, joining the ranks of the
Moroi in order to prove themselves worthy of the gift. Though relatively few have their wishes so granted,
those who do frequently turn their backs on their human lives, becoming as cruel and decadent as the
masters they serve. They delight in darker magics and in relish combat, though only when the odds are
wildly in their favor do most vampires consider joining the melee.
Feast
Awaken to darkness, arise from the earth,
One vampires bite brings another ones birth.
A vampire wakes with a passionate need
To hunt those alive to capture and feed
He stalks in the night like a primitive beast,
And what once was alive will soon be deceased.
So when the sunlight disappears from the sky,
Watch well the shadows if you dont want to die.
Victoria Boatwright
Feed
Writhing bodies clad in black
Flow past me as I stare.

Like beacons on a stormy sea

The lights around them flare.
Leather, velvet, metal, lace
These ornaments they don,
Yet their necks remain unclothed
For me to gaze upon.
Swirling through the smoke-filled air,
The music lifts their soul.
Succumbing to this sonic drug,
Their minds have lost control.
I pull my cloak in close to me
And drift into the crowd.
I search each ghoulish painted face
As death looms like a cloud.
My angels face appears to me
Amidst the swaying mass.
I glide to her through sound and haze,
Ignoring those I pass.
My eyes fixate upon her skin
So smooth, so soft, so white
Her naked arms flail wildly.
She waltzes with the night.
I reach out, and I touch her hair
Which has fallen in her eyes.
She sees me for the first time now
And jumps back in surprise.
I grasp her hand and pull her near.
Shes powerless to my touch.
I feel her warmth flow into me.
I want her blood so much.
But I can bring no harm to her,
Despite my deadly urge.
As I stand there with my love,
My heaven and hell converge.
I cannot make her who I am
To live eternally,
Feeding off the innocent
As they die painfully.
And so I share a final dance
With her before I go.

I kiss her lips once, turn away,

And let my hunger grow.
Bloodpet
Bloodpets fit into the Calabim human social ladder somewhere between the oppressed peasant and the
favored Moroi. They are kept around the vampiric governors to do all sorts of menial tasks, not the least of
which is to serve as cannon fodder. Due to their closer association with the ruling class they are spared the
feasting of their peers, but are the first ones to be fed on in a pinch.
Moroi
Fed on the blood of vampires, the Moroi are capable of achieving great bursts of strength.
Brujah
Vampires dont tend to shy away from brutality, but most prefer manipulation and petty cruelty to outright
savagery. Not the Brujah, however. After leading enough battles, the veneer of civilization that the Calabim
have adopted as a survival scheme since the Age of Ice crumbles away. They revel in the carnage of battle,
even risking their immortal lives against odd in which vampire lords would be content to send in fodder after
fodder. Their results are hard to argue with, however.
Vampire Lord
All vampires have unnaturally long lifespans, but the vampire lords have learned to cheat death itself.
Whether through massive feasting or some more arcane ritual, the body of a vampire lord is recreated upon
destruction. Some spend their stolen years further honing their martial prowess, but many, having
experienced everything else in life, study forbidden knowledge, learning to cast advanced death and body
spells without mana. A few take the final step towards immortality, and become a lich.

Body Magic
Graft Flesh
Properties that avail a small benefit alone can often yield a fantastic increase when in concert with certain
other properties. Nature, while inventive, lacks true imagination in this regard, but to an Unencumbered
mind, the possibilities are intriguing. A tigers teeth give a last-ditch weapon, a hawks eyes enhance an
archer, and a bears strength and fur could give any soldier an advantage over the northern savages.
Furthermore, with the proper supplication to our masters, the problem of unwilling subjects is easily
overcome
From High Priest Nyarlat Hoteps Musings on Perfection
Flesh Golem
It was on a dreary night of November that I beheld the accomplishment of my toils. With an anxiety that
almost amounted to agony, I collected the instruments of life around me, that I might infuse a spark of being
into the lifeless thing that lay at my feet. It was already one in the morning; the rain pattered dismally against
the panes, and my candle was nearly burnt out, when, by the glimmer of the half-extinguished light, I saw
the dull yellow eye of the creature open; it breathed hard, and a convulsive motion agitated its limbs.
How can I describe my emotions at this catastrophe, or how delineate the wretch whom with such
infinite pains and care I had endeavored to form? His limbs were in proportion, and I had selected his
features as beautiful. Beautiful!Great God! His yellow skin scarcely covered the work of muscles and
arteries beneath; his hair was of a lustrous black, and flowing; his teeth of a pearly whiteness; but these

luxuriances only formed a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, that seemed almost of the same color
as the dun white sockets in which they were set, his shrivelled complexion and straight black lips.
V. F.

Werewolves
We have always been animals first and people second, so that no matter how eloquently our reason may
speak, the final word is always had by our hunger, our rage, our lust.
Talia Gosam, on Feral Bond
S e e Al s o
Gilden Silveric

Baron Duin Halfmorn

Duin was a fearsome warlord during the Age of Magic. He hosted lavish banquets after his victories, where
he and his generals feasted on the bodies of the captured opponents. His generals ambition grew to match
his own and they turned on him in a bloody civil war. Duin won the war but lost his empire; in the end, he
sat alone, feasting on his generals bodies.
Like all mortals, even the horrific Duin passed away, but he would not be allowed to sleep forever.
In time of dire need, desperate mages performed rites to bring back the greatest, most feared general of
history. But it was not without price: the gods knew of Duins character, and would not suffer him to be
raised back to life without an appropriate form.
Werewolves had not been seen in the world since the Age of Ice. Hardly possessed with the same
mental faculties as vampires, the werewolves truly were hunted to extinction by the human survivors. But in
Duin Halfmorn, these dark creatures will witness a terrible rebirth, and the free peoples would do right to
tremble in fear.
S e e Al s o
Var n G o s a m

Hati
Hati dreamed of her mother. Her mother had stroked her fur and told her how special she was, though she
looked at her in pity. Told her of her two fathers: the one, a simple farmer and her mothers husband; the
second, a stranger, last of an aristocratic line with a terrible secret.
While Hati was growing in the womb of her mother, she had been infected with Lycanthropy. Her
mother, the last werewolf, could change forms at will, but Hati was from birth onward wrapped in the skin
of the wolf. Human society was closed to them, but the disease brought gifts as well as curses, and mother
and daughter tracked prey effortlessly through the snow, everyday a feast in the midst of famine.
Late in the Age of Ice, Hati hunts alone, any link to humanity severed by the death of her mother.