by J. Edward Tremlett (Original World of Darkness | The Mythos Project | Resources)
Common Knowledge
Stand still -- absolutely still -- and take a deep breath.
Hitch it in your throat and count to ten. Count to a hundred if you want to, or if you can. It’s all there is to do, now that you’re just a little wiser than before. Will you be older, though, before the night is through? Or just dead, like the others?
Your back is to the concrete, subway station pillar you’re hiding behind. Your camera is back there, where your shaking fingers dropped it after your moment of triumph. In panic, you think of small things. Little things. The traces of a search across five continents’ history to point to a single conclusion -- that we are not alone on this ball of mud.
At last you had the proof you needed. And the proof’s coming closer with each frightened heartbeat. So you hold your breath and count. It’s all you can do to stop yourself from screaming. Count like you did in grade school.
One - Two - Tie my shoe. The stories of the tribesmen of Arabia and upper Africa: frightened by unhallowed noises in the night -- strange sounds coming from the graveyards. Come the morning they would stand aghast at the sight of their graves, all of them upturned and robbed of their occupants. They called such a creature a "Ghul" and attributed dark powers with its creation.
What were the ancient Egyptians really protecting their tombs from when they chiseled the likeness of Anubis inside them? Where did they go with the bodies they stole? What did they do with them?
Three - Four - Lock the door. Changelings: human babes stolen from cribs and replaced with unwholesome fruit. A sullen boy who grew up strange and as far from the tree as one might expect. A spooky girl who seemed to hear things that were not there. One day, when the change from child to adult was in the offing, and a marriage was nigh, such a child would vanish without a trace.
Sometimes, just before the disappearance, parents would see red eyes off in the woods, watching their every move. Was it elopement with some unknown suitor or a journey to town to seek one’s fortune? Or did the true parents come to collect their bundle of joy?
Five - Six - Burn some sticks. The records of Cotton Mather, witch-hunter. Stories of the strange friends and fellow travelers of the New England witch cults. Loathsome, hoofed helpers who would bound from holes in the ground at the Esbats. Under the Moon’s dull shine they would show the hags charnel wonders. They would go to the old, secluded graveyards, and witch and creature would rut in the open graves, explorers of the dark world best kept hidden.
Then would come the black man, bearing gifts of wisdom and a small, black book for them to sign. Such a promise brought only death or damnation, surely. But who, or what, was the black man? And what were they? What is The Thing that Should Not Be?
Seven - Eight - Twist of Fate. The paintings of Richard Upton Pickman: native of Boston and "Weird" artist of the 20’s. He disappeared in 1926, age 43(1), leaving behind a prodigious body of macabre work too shocking for his time, but coming into vogue now that such things are more acceptable. His works were recently "rediscovered" courtesy of the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, which once shunned him. Critics are calling him a master of realism, as the faces on the subjects are so real they seem they could come alive at any moment: gray-skinned, canine-faced things dance about upturned graves and devour the bodies of the dead in loving, glorious detail.
Prints have gone on sale and done brisk business. You have one called "The Lesson" hanging in your apartment. In it, a circle of the creatures go about showing a young, human boy how to eat like they do. Looking at the faces of the creatures, and the boy, you began to see a certain resemblance between the two. What could this mean? Where did Richard Upton Pickman disappear to?
Nine - Ten - Again and Again. All the missing people, lately. People go missing in New York all the time, but lately it’s become an epidemic. Winos down at the precinct babble about people coming up out of the sewers late at night. People with red eyes and gray skin and fangs who grab anyone who doesn’t move fast enough and carry them back down into the underground. They’ve been saying that for years, but only now that folks in suits and ties go missing does New York’s finest go looking for clues. They don’t find any, at least none your contacts would own up to.
And here you are. All the little pieces you’d uncovered on your way to the Pulitzer Prize you thought you’d get for this pointed here. You were following up on the one, solid lead you had: the only person who didn’t sound like a nut or off his head. He talked about how this station was after Midnight. How no one came. How no one ever left, either, save what might not wish to be seen at all.
That article’s stewing on your head, even now. All that waiting paid off when they came bounding down the tunnel, red eyes glinting in the dark. The picture would have said a thousand words if you hadn’t dropped the camera, and the accompanying article would have solved a whole bundle of old mysteries in one, fell swoop if they hadn’t heard the Nikon hit the ground. But as they pad closer, sniffing you out, you realize the only thing of yours that might see print is your obituary.
You can’t count any more. You can’t think. The padding of their hooves are right next to your pillar. You can hear them breathing, hot and smoky in the morning chill. You can smell the upturned graves on their fingers and the dead men on their breath. There’s no time for regrets, goodbyes, cryptic last notes or clues for others to follow. There is only time for a headline, and it reads "Amateur Reporter found dead in subway station."
You close your eyes and open them to see the answer to a whole lot of questions staring at you. It’s uglier than you ever thought and makes your mind boil over just to see the look on its face. Sure, you’ve got more questions to ask, but it lets its claws and teeth do the explaining.
And then you, too, become just another question in a wide world full of them.
Uncommon Knowledge
The Ghouls are an intelligent -- if dim-witted -- race of necrophages. These ugly fellows eat the dead of both the waking world and the Dreamlands, from whence they travel via the ancient, underground boltholes of long ago. They have their own language: a collection of meeps and gibbers that may or may not have a written equivalent. Those which are encountered in North America or Europe tend to write in English, although the spelling and grammar is that of times long past.
Their exact origins are unknown. They may the Dreamlands reflection of the ancient, legendary race known as the Ghul, or Ghilan. (2) These horrifying, red-skinned creatures were supposedly the children of Iblis Himself -- cruel and demonic shapechangers possessed of a taste for human flesh. It’s also possible that the sightings of the Ghouls gave rise to the Ghilan’s legend: after all, no one’s seen a Ghilan in centuries, but the Ghouls are very real.
It’s perfectly possible for them to mate with Humans, and the child will usually turn into a Ghoul at some point after adolescence. It’s also quite possible for an ordinary human to become a Ghoul by adopting some of the creatures’ habits and eating practices. This is some of the historical basis for the Changeling legends, though the Changelings themselves would likely say otherwise.
Speaking of the Changelings, they have an entwined history given that the Ghouls come from the Dreamlands. That makes them of The Dreaming, however removed, and this means that ghouls can see Changelings for what they are, use Chimerical weapons and interact with the whole of the Dreaming. This interaction includes entering Freeholds, much to polite Changeling society’s disgust and horror.
In spite of this interaction, they remain as much a part of the dismal, mundane world as the bright Dreaming. They seem to be fully manifested in both worlds at once: whether seen from Changeling perspective or purely mortal eyes, a Ghoul looks no different. How this can be, no one is sure.
Ghouls devour the bodies of the dead in the manner prescribed by their deity, Mordiggian, and in so doing their lives are extended. They’re capable of living well past a human lifespan, and some of them are centuries old, though most don’t make it past two-hundred before being killed by one of the Dreamland’s many hazards. No one is quite sure how long a Ghoul might live if they didn’t eat what they did. Given their closeness to mankind – they are sexually compatible, after all -- it’s possible they might have a "normal" lifespan of around fifty or so years, which is the normal time allotted for a human in the Dreamlands.
Their entire culture revolves around the simple pleasures of gorging on ripe corpses, dancing beneath the Moonlight and then retreating back to the Underworld to lounge about and gnaw on bones. Most Ghouls don’t aspire to do, or be, any more than this. Their worship of Mordiggian is done by doing what they’d do anyway -- eating bloated, dead bodies – so there’s no need for them to be fanatical or overly-energized at all. Some of the older Ghouls have become very prodigious sorcerers and magicians in their own right, but they are the exception and not the rule. Those Ghouls who choose to lay their allegiance with Nyogtha are more active than the others, but still pay lip service to Mordiggian’s rites and expectations.
Ghouls have a long history of interaction with Humans. Their habit of mating with mortals led to situations where Ghoul babes would be carried by human mothers, and these children would come of age and either be stolen back by the Ghouls, or else they would beat their own path to the graveyard, hearing Mordiggian’s call.
In the early times they also consorted with mortals for more reverent reasons. Those humans who chose to worship Mythos entities, particularly Nyogtha, would encounter Ghouls as they went about their business. Many Black Sabbaths were spent in Ghoulish company, so much that the witch cult cultures of Europe and North America were heavily influenced by Ghoulish practices. Whether it was Ghouls who introduced Nyogtha to Humans, or the other way around, is unknown. On the other hand, it is quite possible that the Ghouls were the ones who introduced Mordiggian to Humans, as evidence of Mordiggian’s worship amongst the Ghouls predates that of mortals.
The flames of the witch trials sent the Ghouls’ mortal accomplices skyward, and for a time the Ghouls’ forays above ground were conducted with more care lest they be caught by witchfinders. Not that they were particularly scared of such things, of course, but pack wisdom showed that a dead or missing witchfinder raised more questions, and brought more witchfinders, than a baffled one. After the hysteria was over, or at least subsided, the Ghouls came back to their usual haunts.
In recent times, large graveyards are something of a rarity in the developed world, and its modern embalming practices render the bodies more resistant to decay -- ruining their taste. This is quite a problem for Ghouls, as one might expect, and they have mostly quit North America and Europe because of it. They prefer the conditions in Asia, Africa and South America, where embalming is not universal, conflicts leave human wreckage strewn in its wake and entire villages can be massacred and left to rot. In such places, the Ghouls can still hold their debauched pavanes under the light of the Moon and feast to their hearts’ content.
This state of affairs has also created a social upheaval: the new breed has turned away from the dictates of Mordiggian, and now kills live prey, rather than waiting for them to die. Ghouls have always killed those humans who stumbled into their affairs, of course, but such was done to defend their existence. The wholesale killing of mortals and eating of their meat -- whether fresh or "ripe" -- is looked upon as heresy by Ghoul society, and a state of conflict exists between these "heretics" and the older majority. (3)
In spite of the diaspora, Ghouls are still quite active in New Orleans, Colma and Mexico City, given the extensive necropoli of the former two and the horrible conditions of the later. A few small groups of sentimental ghouls maintain their old stomping grounds up and down the Eastern coastline, in places like Boston and Arkham. And some of the more ancient and hoary catacombs of Italy are prone to a visit from such old friends.
The center for ghoul activity in the First World, however, is still New York City. There, in tunnels, sewers and places not seen by mortal eye since the laying of the city’s foundations, they come up to feed. The Ghouls in New York are most likely to be "heretics," now, and are responsible for a significant number of missing persons there. A vast majority of these Heretics are also hooked on heroin, if the rumors are true.
Another recent development has occurred. Richard Upton Pickman, a macabre artist of the 1920’s, had befriended a clutch of Ghouls that frequented the Boston area and persuaded them to allow him to paint their likenesses. He produced a fairly complete body of work based on these gruesome subjects, but had a hard time getting it displayed, much less keeping his social contacts.
One day, in 1926, he disappeared and his paintings were stored away by persons unknown. No mortal was ever quite certain what had happened to Mr. Pickman, but many rumors abounded. The truth was quite simple: after so much time of being among the Ghouls, he found that he preferred their refreshingly honest lifestyle to that of Humanity, and made the choice to join their society. When last seen – in the Dreamlands by no less than Randolph Carter himself – he had degenerated into ghouldom so much that he could barely remember how to speak English. He helped his friend with his legendary journey, and then disappeared back into the gray-skinned throngs he’d joined. What became of him after that is unknown.
A few years ago, his works came back into circulation. An anonymous donor gifted the lot of them to the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, and they’ve been on rotating exhibition ever since. Prints and t-shirts are being sold and critical acclaim is being bestowed upon "without a doubt, one of the finest American masters of the Weird of the last century: Richard Upton Pickman." (Time Magazine: January 14, 2000). Type O Negative are going to use "Holmes, Lowell and Longfellow Lie Buried in Mount Auburn" for the cover of their upcoming CD.
Where were those pictures sitting for all those years? Who donated them, and why? An account has been set up that takes 10% off the sale of the prints and shirts, with the rest being allowed to enrich the coffers of the BMFA, but who’s raking in the money?
Or what?
Average Ghoul
Attributes
Physical: Strength 5, Dexterity 3, Stamina 3
Social: Charisma 1, Manipulation 3, Appearance 0
Mental: Perception 3, Intelligence 3, Wits 3
Abilities
Talents: Alertness 3, Athletics 3, Awareness 2, Brawl 3, Dodge 3
Skills: Melee 1, Stealth 3
Knowledges: Mythos Lore 1, Dreamlands Lore 2, Sewer Lore 3, Theology 1
Willpower: 4
Banality: 3
Weapons: They tend to not use hand to hand weapons, relying on their claws and teeth. In those rare cases where weaponry is used, it will most likely be a club or other bludgeoning object, and occasionally a knife. With a successful Brawl attack, they do STR + 2 dice of Lethal damage. If they succeed in a Grapple attack, they automatically succeed in a bite attack, doing 2 dice of Lethal damage per turn they are attached to the target.
Spells: None
Armor: Ghouls have a tough, rubbery hide that is resistant to firearms and other ranged weapons. They can soak Bashing damage with their Stamina, and damage is halved after the soak roll. Treat gunfire, arrows and the like as though they were bashing damage.
Health: OK / OK / Bruised / Hurt -1 / Injured - 2/ Wounded - 3/ Mauled - 4/ Crippled -5 / Incapacitated / Dead
Ghouls can never have an Appearance of more than one, but can have a Strength of up to 6. Those Ghouls who were once human will have a Linguistics of one, with "ghoul" being the extra language.
Their Banality is usually around 3, but may get higher as they get older if, with advanced age, they take up more scholarly pursuits rather than continuing to run in the night and play in the boneyards. It rarely goes higher than 4, though.
For older, more experienced Ghouls, give them:
Those Heretics who are using the spell "The Maker of Dreames" should have a Dreamcraft of between 1 and 3.
All Ghouls can see in absolute darkness, and due to their coming from the Dreamlands, they enjoy a full interaction with the Dreaming. This means they see the Fae Mien of Changelings, interact with Chimera, enter Freeholds, be harmed by and use Chimerical weapons, and so on. This ability is on all the time.
They have a peculiar ability to absorb information from the bodies they consume. If a Ghoul wishes to activate this ability, it must eat at least 3/4 of the body in one sitting (not hard to do) and spend a point of Temporary Willpower while eating. The Ghoul then rolls the remaining Temporary Willpower against a difficulty of 7 if the body was dead for more than 24 hours, and 5 if it is fresher than that. Even one success will give a Ghoul the body’s name, mannerisms, partial recall of what was topmost on that person’s mind prior to death, and the names of important people.
Each success past the first gives one of two things.
* A dot in an Ability the body had. This will last for as long as the Ghoul has the person in its digestive tract: usually 24 hours. This will not transfer merits, flaws or any supernatural powers or birthrights.
* A die to the Ghouls Manipulation + Subterfuge pool in order to fool people into thinking the ghoul is that person if the spell "Become Foode" is used (see Ghoul Spells, below). As most Ghouls do not have Subterfuge, this is the only way they can fool most people into thinking it’s really the body, apart from the effects of the spell.
Also note that the Heretics have come to love the feeling that Heroin gives them. Ghouls who shoot up lose dice from their ability rolls and enter a state of waking dreaming for a few hours. The exact numbers are up to the Storyteller depending on how she runs the effects of narcotic drugs in her game.
The Ghouls in the World of Darkness
Ghouls are able to mate with humans, and it’s not inconceivable for them to bear children with various supernaturals. If they mate with a very high-generation Vampire, or a Kuei-Jin with a Yin imbalance, a child might result but the offspring would be a dhampir with no chance of ever becoming a Ghoul. If they mate with Shifters, the offspring will either be kinfolk or Ghoul, but not both, and never a Shifter.
With Changelings, it’s more complicated. Despite ancient warnings to leave the Corpse-Eaters alone, there are a few Kithain depraved -- or lusty, in the case of Unseelie Satyrs -- enough to try. The children of such a match almost invariably come out horribly deformed, sterile and mentally deficient kinain of some kind. Most of these don’t live long, either.
Ghouls can be Ghouled by a vampire, but as long as they have vampire blood in their veins they will lose their connection to the Dreamlands. They will not be able to interact with the Dreaming, even if Enchanted, and will be unable to physically return to the Dreamlands. An Embraced Ghoul loses all abilities that come with being a Ghoul for the rest of its unlife. The only way a Ghouled or Embraced Ghoul can enter the Dreamlands is by dreaming, and that is a pale substitute. In fact, most Ghouls -- even the Heretics -- consider the consequences of Ghouling or the Embrace to be a fate worse than death.
They can never Awaken, but they can learn Hedge Magic. Only the oldest amongst them really bother to do this, though. They cannot become Wraiths when they die and none of them will ever be Imbued.
Relations with the World of Darkness
Vampires: Most Cainites have no idea that Ghouls exist. This is the doing of Clan Nosferatu, and they do this half out of the need to preserve the Masquerade, and half out of pure fear.
The Nosferatu are deathly afraid of the Nicktuku: the horrifying progeny of Nosferat, who purportedly seeks to destroy his own childer. The Ghouls are usually believed to be Nicktuku when they appear, so the Nossies don’t go out of their way to try and talk to them. And since the Clan’s doing its best to keep the other clans from knowing about the Nicktuku, that includes keeping the Ghoul’s activities from reaching their ears, too.
As a result, anything the Ghouls do will be covered up with the same zeal and efficiency the Nosferatu apply to covering their own asses. Even amongst the Sabbat, the antitribu of that Clan are fastidious in keeping the presence of these creatures a secret out of the same fear. This is getting harder to do in New York, now that the "heretics" are making so much trouble. It remains to be seen what the city’s changing of hands – from Sabbat back to Camarilla – will have in this state of affairs.
The eldest of Assamites and Setites know the Ghouls of old. They aren’t entirely sure WHAT they are, of course, and may be getting them mixed up with the Ghilian. But they do know the creatures prefer to live underground, tend to come out at night and eat dead bodies straight from the grave. Those Assamites who come from Moslem backgrounds consider the desecration of graves to be Harram, and therefore punishable. The Setites only care if it’s their grave being robbed.
The Kuei-jin have noticed the creatures appearing with strange rapidity in their countries over the last seventy years or so. Before, they were mistaken for Kuei but always got away before they could be caught. Now, there are too many to hide effectively, and their true faces have been seen.
The Kuei-Jin are nothing if not cosmopolitan, though, and have decided to be patient and let the "walking crows" -- so called because of how they emulate carrion crows -- feed on what the vampires leave behind. In the steam of the jungles, the bodies will rot whether they are in one piece or several, and having them around to devour the evidence is rather useful. There is some word of establishing official communication or agreements with the newcomers, but the prognosis of these efforts is unclear: the crow-monsters seem too simple to understand the notion of treaties, and no one has stepped forward to speak for them as a whole.
There is also a further complication: with the wholescale feeding of these newcomers, the Bone Flowers are receiving many petitions from the spirits to do something about the defilement of their corpses. Conflict may soon arise.
Garou: Silent Striders know of the creatures as their paths often crossed in the deserts of old, and even now. They know of their eating habits, including the notion of why they do this. They also know they come from somewhere else. That’s as far as they know and, quite frankly, as much as they really want to know, too. They desecrate graves and pillage the contents, and that’s cause for a pack to go roust them from the tunnels and chase them back where they came from. Ghouls tell stories of the man-jackals of the deserts, and how they make feeding difficult in those areas.
Other Garou, including the Hengeyokai, are less likely to know as much about them. The Bone-Gnawers will run into them while hiding out in the sewers or the underground, but might mistake them for vampires -- until they take a sniff, or pause to look at what they’re tearing apart.
Mages: Some of the more well-read Verbena know of them, given the Ghoul’s sordid history with the East coast "witch" culture of colonial America, and earlier. These will-workers know they come from somewhere in the Umbra, and eat the dead to gain a lengthier lifespan, amongst other things. They also know there is some connection to the Fae Folk, but how that came about is unknown.
The Verbena find the notion of their worshiping Mordiggian to be..., interesting. They just aren’t quite sure if this means that they’re worshipping Her in the real world, here, or if there’s an echo of Her wherever they come from, too. Very few of those who know anything know of the connection to Nyogtha, just as very few know that some of their number made pacts with that dark thing. Either way, they know better than to pry into their method of longevity.
Other Traditions may have run into them from time to time, and each would have a different take on them. Most of them would be most likely to mistake them for those ugly vampires who live in the sewers, at least until they did a scan or two. City-dwelling mages who run into the "heretics" can put up a good fight, but will always lose them in the chase.
Those Hollow Ones who frequent the graveyards have run into them and may have interacted, even if they don’t realize what they really are. Those that get close enough to try to communicate tend to think they’re pretty cool, even if their choice of foodstuffs is a little hardcore. Those who have dealt with the "heretics" sing a different tune...
The Technocracy:
Report Starts: "According to the records, these RDs have been popping up in the literature all over the place. They are identified as "Ghoul’s" from the arabic "Ghul." This suggests an origin in the deserts, which might set them in nice with certain other RDs who came from there. Exact origins are inconclusive.
"They eat dead bodies, primarily. They also have a peculiar ability to devour someone and then assume their likeness, voice and some of their memory. We’re not sure if this is automatic or if they have to expend effort, or how long they can make this last. When tracking these creatures, always keep a bio-scanner handy and don’t be shy about scanning your partners when you regroup -- the life you save could be your own.
"Speaking of which: their energy signatures read similar to the "changelings" but they are not quite the same at all. If you shoot them they fall down dead and don’t change from one form to another, unless they’ve done that strange, necrophagic illusion of theirs (Note from the Progenitors: Genetics wants a live captive so they can see if they can synthesize that ability. Control says Low Priority on that one, but keep an eye open for an opportunity) And while we’re on the subject of shooting, be sure to pack heat with a high rate of fire. These guys can take some punishment before they go down.
"There have been more reports of these folks getting antsy. They used to just be content with tearing up graveyards and running for cover, but now they seem to be attacking live people. Some of our $yndicate friends swear they’re buying Smack, too, but I’ll believe it when I see one of them nodding off with an armful. It sounds a little too human to me. (Note: Ask the $yndicate to cobble up some of that "tracker" Horse they make for tailing RD Junkies. Might come in handy.)"
Changelings: The Changelings have known of the Ghouls – "dogfaces" as they’re called -- for time out of mind. There are ancient warnings to leave them alone and let them be, though no one is quite sure what prompted them. It may have something to do with the old stories of Ghoul raids on hallowed burial grounds in The Dreaming, and how the creatures have a strange relish for the decayed flesh of the fae. But then, Redcaps are known to eat dead fae, too.
As a result of these ancient warnings, not to mention general standards of taste, relations with the creatures are non-existent at best. The Changelings have never found a leader to negotiate with, and neither camp wishes them near the Freeholds, anyway. The only Kith they seem to have any real dealings with are the Redcaps, mostly because of their gruesome nature, but it’s unclear if the Kith are getting anything out of the bargain other than odd fellows at the dinner table. It’s hoped that they’re not breaking the taboo on mating with the repulsive creatures, but some Satyrs are telling some horrid tales...
They must be prodigals of a sort but even the Eshu cannot find any tales that describe their creation. They could be some sort of dark-minded Chimera that have bred, but they do not respond to any magic that would affect such things. A frightening theory posits that the creatures may predate the Changelings’ role in the Dreaming, but surely that is nonsense. Whoever suggested such a thing, anyway?
And amongst those who deal with the Ghouls, there is a dark prophecy spoken. They say that if a true Changeling were ever born of such a match, it would be a girl-child of formidable and terrible power -- one that would show the way to survive the coming Winter. Some say this is why so many amongst the Unseelie break the ban and seek to mate with such creatures. Others say the child has already been born...
Wraiths: The Restless dead are fairly well-acquainted with Ghouls. In fact, for most Wraiths an encounter with such a creature is their first brush with another supernatural outside of other ghosts. Western Wraiths who hang out in older graveyards, or else have to patrol them or do business there, will see them sooner or later. And those Wraiths who were cut down in a third-world massacre and left in a pile to rot will see the creatures come out to feed.
Ghouls are the bane of any Wraith who has her own body as a fetter. Before the 6th Great Maelstrom, the Dictum Mortuum precluded trying to stop them or talk to them, but this was often ignored. And through this, an important discovery was made: Ghouls are TERRIFIED of ghosts. Even a weak effort to breach the shroud is enough to send them running for less-haunted climes. Why? No one is quite certain, but word of the discovery has made the rounds.
In the Jade Empire, their insurgency has caused no end of problems. One of the functions of the P’o is to guard the body, which is rather difficult to do when it’s lying in tattered pieces all over the ground, or taken somewhere that they, themselves, cannot go. A number of them have been petitioning those who speak with the dead for some aid, and hope for a change in this state of affairs.
Hunters: "They are not of this world. They eat the dead and are willing to kill the living to protect their secrets. Some of them are getting a real taste for fresh meat, now. And there’s a whole group of them less than half a mile away, sitting by your mother’s tombstone..."
Hit them in the head. Hard.
Ghoul Spells
BECOME FOODE
This is the means by which a Ghoul can assume the likeness of anything it has eaten. It’s a messy process, and requires the eating of fresh meat – ugh! – but if it’s something that must be done, Ghouls are sure that Mordiggian will forgive them their sins…
SYSTEM: The Ghoul must kill, and eat, a relatively fresh corpse: one that is no more than 48 hours old. It must spend a Temporary point of willpower and make the Willpower roll to absorb the body’s memories, as given above. Then, to work this spell, the Ghoul must spend another Temporary point of Willpower. Another Willpower roll, using the adjusted total, is then made against the Stamina of the Ghoul. If it’s successful, then the Ghoul may, at some point within the next year and a day, assume the body’s pre-mortem likeness for however long it likes, at no further cost. This spell is good for only one use per likeness, though: once the Ghoul reverts back to Ghoul form it will lose the ability to wear that likeness.
However: the Ghoul has the option of spending a Permanent point of Willpower when working the spell. If it does, then it has permanently subsumed that likeness into itself, and may use the likeness any time it likes, over and over again. In addition, any dice that were added to the Manipulation + Subterfuge pool for this likeness come back when the likeness is reassumed.
The illusion is perfect, to a point. The ghoul looks, talks and sounds like the person in photographs, movies, x-rays and other mundane means. However, the shadow of the person will always reveal the slumping outline of the Ghoul, and it is by this that they can be detected. If the Ghoul is ever killed while in a stolen likeness, it will revert back to looking like a Ghoul at death.
Pure-blooded humans cannot learn this form of the spell, as they do not have access to a Ghoul’s ability to consume memories of the dead. Those who have Ghoulish blood running through their veins would lose a point of Sanity for doing it, plus whatever other losses might come from devouring a human corpse.
POSSIBLE RITUAL: The creature worried open the woman’s skull, cracking it between its hands and sinking its jaws into the rich, steaming mass of brains within. It fought back the nausea and fear of defilement, realizing that this was something that must be done, and began to absorb what he found. As it did, it opened its mind up and let the foreign memories run free: television ads, sex with Tom, Johnny’s report card, dog needs de-worming pills…
"…I need… to go to… the store…" it croaked, imagining her face on its own between bites, the voice becoming less and less its own and more and more hers as its features started to blur and change… "Not… tonight, I have a… headache… my god, why can’t you do your homework… poor Lassie… not now, Oprah’s on…"
And then the woman was nothing but bones and a lump in the Ghoul’s stomach, and it stole to the sewer ladder wearing her face…
CALL/DISMISS THE THING WHYCH SHOULDE NOT BE
Those Ghouls who lay allegiance to Nyogtha and do its bidding will call it up from time to time, usually on high holy days or whenever their leaders need to hear its counsel and commands. In times past, such Ghouls would assist the witches in their worship of it, but now it seems that they alone are left to remember and revere the dweller in the darkness.
SYSTEM: The standard rules for Calling/Dismissing a Greater Entity (as outlined in Mythos Lore 2) should be used. Storytellers are free to invent any specific needs of the ritual, but it’s suggested that it should be done at a hole that somehow connects to the great cavern where Nyogtha dwells.
POSSIBLE RITUAL: The leader of the ceremony ordered the knocking over of the torches before the cavern’s hoary entrance, and, with arms raised, meeped and howled the final intonations. The Moon was dark, the sky was cloudy and now, with the torches stamped out underhoof, the place was prepared.
The humans who’d caught the Ghouls napping screamed and pleaded where they were bound, before the cavern entrance. They were, perhaps, sensing the sudden onrush of moldy, stale underworld fumes that was coming fast from the cavern…, the primal darkness made form was coming…, coming…, rushing onwards. The last few syllables were sounded. A final gesture made.
And then, before the Ghouls’ eyes, It was there. It looped, sloshed and poured out with a thunderous roar of displaced air of arrival, ready to accept their offerings and give its gifts. The mortal sacrifices never saw what engulfed them, but the Ghouls saw it all. And they were made glad of it.
THE MAKER OF DREAMES
Recently, there’s been a social heresy amongst the Ghouls. Their younger ones are being tempted away to eat fresh fruit they kill on their own, and nothing done thus far seems to deter them. And word comes of a further sadness: addiction to the drugs of the mortal world, heroin in particular. What the elder Ghouls do not know is why.
The Dreamlands have a strange property to them. Those mortal Dreamers who enter it in dreams are able, by unconscious effort or force of will, to create wondrous objects from the strength of their dreams. This is the province of the Dreamcraft skill. The mortal inhabitants of the Dreamlands are denied this ability, as are those who enter through the physical openings. And Ghouls are also unable to create such things, at least unaided. And it is for this reason – at least for some – that heroin has become so popular amongst them.
No one is quite sure what the Heretics are making, but unwholesome suggestions are being raised.
SYSTEM: The normal procedure to make something from the stuff of dreams is as follows: the dreamer dreams of a certain person, object or place that should be within the Dreamlands, somewhere, and places a point of temporary Willpower into that object. Only one point of Willpower can be spent per night in this fashion. The more common the object is, the less points it costs, and the amount of points that can be placed into an object can be no more than 100 points. A one point object would be the most simple of simple things, and one poorly made at that, while one that costs 100 points could be anything from a fantastic realm to a great kingdom filled with adoring subjects.
When the object has enough points, the dreamer makes a Wits + Dreamcraft roll against the difficulty of 1/10th the number of points placed into the object, rounding up. A fine sword worth 20 points would be a difficulty of 2, while a castle worthy of 75 would be a difficulty of 8. With a success, it appears somewhere in the Dreamlands and must be found. Failure means the entire effort is lost and a botch brings horrible consequences.
In order to use this spell, which is the only way a Ghoul can do this, a Ghoul must enter a state of waking dreaming, like what is caused by injecting heroin. Before the drug takes effect, they must think of the object they wish to create, and it must then be foremost in their mind during the time they’re high. They cannot move from the spot until the high is over, and must not be disturbed. If anything disturbs their state the spell is broken and the work thus far is ruined.
Casting this spell costs the Ghoul a point of Temporary Willpower, plus one more for the point to be invested in the object. When the object is near completion, the Ghoul makes the Wits + Dreamcraft roll and the results come as they will.
The spell costs no Sanity to perform, but most Humans wouldn’t need to do it, anyway. And need we say that doing this will lead to a roaring addiction to heroin or other opiates?
POSSIBLE RITUAL: It shifted in the piss-stained clothes and plunged the needle into its gray elbow, feeling the sting and savoring the moment before the drug set its mind free once more. The feeling was so sweet and comforting, like being muzzle-deep in human haunch and stopping to sigh. It wondered why more humans weren’t doing this, too.
Across from it, its friends guarded the door of the crackhouse they’d taken over. No one must interrupt this. Not now. Not when they were so very, very close.
In its lap was a piece of paper that bore an ancient picture. It had torn the page from one of the elders’ books of power. On it, a great, powerful Ghoul was brandishing a staff and lightning was flaring all around. The Elder Gods knelt before it, prostrating in fear.
And as the drug hit its mind, and it nodded off into the lair of its chosen dream, it wondered how much longer it would take to make the Lost Lord come back…
(1) The date of Mr. Pickman’s disappearance, and his age at the time, are not given in the story "Pickman’s Model." The story was written in 1926, and Pickman’s age is given as 43 in Call of Cthulhu ed. 5.5. (Thanks to Prime Evil for this tangent and the bit about Mr. Pickman: he knows why.)
(2) More information about the Ghuls can be found in World of Darkness: The Bygone Bestiary (pp. 32 - 34). Storytellers should decide for themselves what link the two have with one another, or if the Ghilan still exist at all.
(3) The idea of a heresy amongst the Ghouls was supplied by Dennis Detwiller in Pagan Publishing’s Delta Green. It also forms the basis for Bob Kruger’s story "Identity Crisis" from the Delta Green: Alien Intelligence anthology. Storytellers interested in portraying Mythos entities in modern times should check both of these books out.
