Thinking about who the bad guys would be in a game where revulsion of the Weird is at least as horrifying as the Weird itself.


The Carillon is the tallest building you’ve ever seen. You’ve never seen the people who live in it, though, except for the hunters they send down to root out anathema and heresy.

Carillon Snow by Bill Dickinson, distributed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Vespers

The Vespers hunters emerge in the earliest hours of the evening, when the hunt of the Carillon is youngest and most uncertain.

What might mark a Vespers hunter

  • A respectable white collar and a knotted kerchief around their neck
  • A sensible broad-brimmed hat and a long coat to keep off dirt and rain
  • A fearsomely knotted bell rope hanging from their belt
  • A thin black chapelhound on a ribbon leash

You might see them

  • Asking locals if they have seen anything or anyone unusual
  • Peering through a spyglass on a hill crest or rooftop
  • Stooped in the underbrush, examining track and spoor
  • Running faster than a human should with their chapelhound on the chase, bell rope at the ready to thrash their prey

Matins

The Matins hunters emerge in the late hours of the evening, when the hunt grows long and the darkness is at its thickest.

What might mark a Matins hunter

  • A silvered visor that conceals the eyes
  • A breastplate and shoulder cape, respectively filgreed and embroidered with prayers
  • A mirror-bladed rapier, thin enough to fit between ribs or through an eye
  • A tarnished lantern that burns sunset red

You might see them

  • Sitting quietly on a neighbor’s stoop, wiping blood off of their blade
  • Opening the town gates in the dead of night
  • Flit past your window, almost too fast to notice
  • Sitting in a circle of salt with their burning lantern, all shadows drawn in towards them

Lauds

The Lauds hunters emerge in the final hours before morning, when the hunt must be completed above all else.

What might mark a Lauds hunter

  • A heavy helmet with a cagelike grill
  • Half plate embossed with the sign of the Carillon
  • A bell hammer than chimes like a tuning fork with every impact
  • A bandolier of bombs that stink of myrrh

You might see them

  • Sprinting down the street splattered in blood, their bell hammer making all the iron nearby shiver in sympathy
  • Smashing down the door of a church
  • Throwing a bomb through the window of a local business
  • Smashing down a house’s walls with hideous strength

Compline

Compline hunters emerge upon the completion of a hunt, to lay to rest the innocents who died and dispose of those who witnessed what they ought not.

What might mark a Compline hunter

  • A stranger arriving in town the morning after a hunt
  • A rosary wrapped around the palm of the hand
  • A black-bound psalter written in an unfamiliar script
  • A long awl made from chipped bone

You might see them

  • Discreetly attend a funeral
  • Digging a grave where nobody will find it
  • Gently pushing their bone awl through someone’s throat
  • Tending those injured by a hunt

Catalina of the bells

They say there is a saint who lives in a garden terrace high up in the Carillon, impossibly beautiful and kind, who observes everything that happens in the heavens and the earth with her golden telescope. According to the stories, she cries every time she tells the hunters who must die.

3 thoughts on “heaven’s rotten bastards

Comments are closed.