KNOW that it is the third year of Their glorious return to this world, for Their hearts were moved by the ignorance of your kind; KNOW that the wheat has been sifted from the chaff, the gold from the dross, and the worthy from the beasts; THUS give praise and adulation to the High Gods, who rule over the heavens and the worlds and the spaces between, and their blessed children, the Annunaki, to whom has been given the stewardship of all creation.
KNOW that your feeble Resistance has been crushed by the fearless warriors of the ab-Marduki; THUS rejoice that you have been saved from the malgovernance and the barbarity of the talking beasts who would style themselves your saviors, jarring you from your rightful place in the GREAT CHAIN in service to your appointed overseers.
KNOW that you shall be evaluated and set to the task that your heart yearns for, despite being as of yet unknowing of it; KNOW that the animals shall be set to labor on the unworthy earth, and the wise to clever work aboard our vast ships, each a city and a vessel alike; THUS pray earnestly that you may be found worthy of service, that one day you may see far distant stars and lands unimaginable, and be filled with wonder.
***
It is the year 20XX. This is heresy. Keep it close to your chest.
It is the third year of the Return. Babylon, holy and terrible, hangs low in the sky: a second moon, a glorious and decadent holy city, the narrow point between heaven and the earths. Her children each have their own tasks. Uruk oversees the brutal mining camps which vomit forth gold. Nineveh hunts those misguided resistance fighters who would deny humanity their rightful place beneath the Annunaki. And Caphtor, jewel of the stars, oversees the construction of a new djinn-vessel, which will serve as the heart of a new, glorious city-ship.
For each of the cities of the Annunaki is powered by the djinn who sing in the darkness between stars, imprisoned and plied with the wines of magnetism to keep them tame. It is their ceaseless labor that turns the wheel of the engines and banishes the dark, and when they are called, the silly and foolish things will do their best to obey their masters’ every command. (Pity them not, you are sternly reminded. Were they to remember who they were, they would choose the cold chaos of the void above the glories of civilization, shucking their place in the great chain of being. Like you, they must be forced to fit where they belong.)
The Annunaki and their janissaries divide and sort humanity as they please. The recalcitrant and the unintelligent alike are forced into work camps, regarded as beasts who require harsh treatment and exist only to be exploited. Those who are attractive, clever or sufficiently unctuous are instead granted personhood, taught the precepts of civilization in sprawling academies, and then tested to assign them their grade and quality; those who fail are branded and returned to live among the beasts, while those who succeed are auctioned before the households of the city. O fortunate slaves of the Annunaki, to be granted leave to serve their overseers directly, to live in their estates and to witness their beauty beneath sheer silks!
Soon you shall have been cleansed of all you thought was culture, rude and brutish. You shall forget the forbidden names of Gilgamesh and Enkidu. You shall forget that your ancestors took the tools of their overseers and thought themselves heroes. You shall know only what you are taught, and you will think yourselves grateful to be a person and not a beast.
As for you yourselves, you are the Phantom Thieves of Caphtor, the talk of the town after your incredible first strike against the Annunaki. In your superhero identities, you are already infamous, wanted by the authorities, and — bizarrely — very popular among the decadent Annunaki, who find you transgressively exciting despite your inevitable defeat at their hands. In your civilian identities, you are close to the seat of power, being lowly members of the household of the Seneschal. The risks are great, but so are the opportunities. You, and you alone, might be able to bring down the Annunaki, or at the very least drive them off Earth.
Somehow.
It’s a process, right? You’ll figure something out. And the only alternative is rolling over and accepting your fate, and that’s not worth even considering. Fight! Demolish the Tower! Bring down Babylon!
CAPHTOR ABOVE
The Annunaki of Caphtor live in the palatial estates of the city above, open to the sky yet bounded by the field generators of the ab-Enkiji. Comparisons to Paradise are not unwarranted. Towers and spires rise in competition with each other, seeking ever grander views, while ziggurats and shrines to the High Gods lie on broad roads lined with precious stones. The city above is verdant, with carefully-kept gardens and dancing fountains at every turn; vast curtains of alien ivies make for teasing curtains to pleasure-gardens, streams run babbling down channels carved into the streets, and images and statuary of the High Gods in their most heroic aspects can be seen not only at crossroads, but in clever alcoves and in bas-relief on the sides of the ziggurats. The city is without blemish; scarcely a leaf may fall without being scooped up by a groveling gardener, and the streets are patrolled by both a legion of janissaries to keep the peace and a legion of street cleaners to polish the gleaming stones by hand.
Caphtor itself takes the form of a great and flowering cross when seen from above, with its longest arm reserved for the docks of the ab-Shamashi. Each of the High Gods is given a vast temple complex, with one at each arm and one at the city’s heart. By this each district has its own purpose, character and patron deity.
Though the full atmospheric replication systems are unnecessary while planet bound, the Annunaki still keep themselves comfortable by keeping ambient temperatures high and blunting even the rain that falls from above; they allow Earth to show them its weather because it is unpredictable and thus mildly interesting, not for lack of options.
The Annunaki themselves are very busy with a grueling schedule of observing festivals, attending social gatherings, considering proposals and ventures, expressing their artistic genius, contemplating the High Gods, and above all pursuing their sacred duties, that they can hardly be expected to maintain their city themselves, and must be allowed their indulgences, which naturally are to take no more than a third of their day. Another third is to be given up to the High Gods in pursuit of their commands, and the final third is reserved for the enrichment and renewal of body and soul.
Thus it is that Caphtor Above is an exemplary example of true civilization. Walk down the streets and you shall hear song and music from estates and gardens at any and every hour; steal into a garden and you shall find it a reflection of the owner’s heart, each flower carefully chosen and cared for by the gardeners; and only the Annunaki can truly serve the three masters of the soul with perfect balance, which are the High Gods which fashioned it, the body that sustains it, and the heart that animates it.
***
CAPHTOR BELOW
In the bowels of the city extends a metropolis for the servants of the enlightened Annunaki. Each estate in Caphtor extends into the maze of tunnels below, the lower levels holding the slave apartments and other such things as are unseemly: the kitchens, the storehouses, the laundries and the rooms of punishment. Between the estates are other such apartments, and the industries for which their inhabitants are necessary: the foundries which provide the raw materials for the workshops above, the sanitation facilities, the water reclamation and recycling plants, the hydroponic farms and vast bounded fields for livestock, the training grounds and fortresses of the janissaries, and the bazaars where the Annunaki do business by proxy. (They, of course, do not sully themselves with mercantile affairs, save to decide what their stewards will buy and sell.) The great temple complexes, too, extend both above and below, and all serve in different aspects below.
The ceilings of the city below are wonderfully made, perfect facsimiles of the sky, save where lazy and negligent slaves have allowed the tiles to fall into disrepair. Most of the city below is lit by twinkling stars and comforted by the velvet black of night, save for where feigned day is necessary, such as the livestock pens. Many who are consigned to the city below will remain there for the rest of their blessed lives, save naturally the gardeners and cleaners who work in shifts in the city above. Slaves being what they are, of course, their barbaric cacophony is ever-present, echoing through the passageways
***
THE TEMPLE OF MARDUK
The God of War and Submission is worshipped from a great fortress opposite the long arm of Caphtor. Its walls are heaped high in the city above, every inch decorated with the triumphs of Marduk’s legions and carvings celebrating his glory. From here, the generals and captains of the ab-Marduki allocate their janissaries throughout the city, remotely administrate Caphtor’s mines and construction projects outside the city, and meditate on their inevitable triumph over all who would dare oppose Heaven. Here, too, they provide martial training for their peers, and hold great banquets to celebrate how they keep their people safe and victorious.
In the city below, the temple is a sprawling fortress-complex manned by the janissaries, resplendent in their red coats (with brass buttons) and brass skullcaps. Here, they undergo brutal conditioning and training to turn them into loyal weapons and tools of the Annunaki, good only for taking orders and carrying them out. Here the nail that sticks up is hammered down, until all learn their place. A good janissary does not concern themselves with whether they are ordered to keep the peace in the city below, guard the city above, or be shipped to the frontier to crush the feeble minions of rival powers. They know their place.
Or, rather, they should. It is impossible to say how many view you as symbols of secret and cherished hope. Less than you would want, certainly, compared to the number who view you as simply targets, or the number who are spitefully angry at you for teasing a hope they know will ultimately fail.
***
THE TEMPLE OF ISHTAR
The Goddess of Love and Domestication has a luxurious temple in the central hub of Caphtor. It is a focal point for celebrations and festivals, boasting many terraced gardens and private chambers for events of any sort. The priestesses of the goddess are happy to provide courtship advice, to assist in arranging a marriage, to seal a contract in the eyes of the gods, to enroll your property in breeding programs, and even to save your life in a pinch: the temple is also a hospital, and is proud to provide impartial and reliable medical care. Don’t trust a lower being with your health, as the saying goes.
In the city below, the temple serves as the Academy of Caphtor, selflessly and tirelessly educating new slaves in order to impart on them some measure of civilization. Those who graduate are introduced to prospective households at the temple, hoping to make such a good impression that they will instruct their stewards to buy them slave at auction for household work in the great Market of the Lioness below, rather than letting them be sold as part of a bulk deal for farm or sanitation work. Those who flunk out are mostly sold to the ab-Marduki at low prices for grueling menial labor outside the city, never to return.
Be sure to stay for the gladiator fights, too. There’s more than one thing a failed slave can be used for, after all, and nothing that gets a failing slave more motivated than a preview of what’s to come. Refreshments are, of course, complimentary, and we are taking bets on which lioness will get the highest score today!
***
THE TEMPLE OF ENKI
The soul of the enlightened one overflows with the impulse of creation. It is for this reason that the Temple of Enki, God of Craftsmanship and Secret Knowledge, welcomes all into the outer workshops of the temple, set opposite the temple of Ereshkigal. Here the student may learn secrets of every art, and through them express their inner heart: sculpture, painting, choreography, smithing, the arrangement of a garden, and other such fine and noble pursuits. Within, of course, the ab-Enkiji attend to higher and more rarified sorcery for the good of all, and one must understand that if a door is shut, it is not yours to open; and those found within sanctums beyond their worthiness will be given over to the beak of the bloodied vulture.
Beneath, the ab-Enkiji maintain the engines and sorceries that maintain the city and its animating djinn; beneath, the ab-Enkiji have cells filled with their test subjects; beneath, the ab-Enkiji dare to open their eyes to the mysteries of creation. Soon, they murmur to themselves as they walk along hidden passageways. Soon.
We shall learn the secrets of this wicked world, torn from the bodies of the unworthy, and by their applications become peerless.
***
THE TEMPLE OF SHAMASH
The ab-Shamashi, here, on the long arm of the city, tend to their holy chariots and burnished escort ships in the service of the God of Transport and Glory. They, children of the wild airs and the sea of stars, are fey folk. Trust them only as a charioteer.
The ingenuity of their temple’s design allows them to hold many craft, specialized for this task or that, and by the application of great mechanisms may bring them up from the depths of the city to their staging grounds with ease. The maintenance of these great systems of wheels and folding doors, of chambers swiftly raised and roofs retracting, of gears turning to retract unneeded chambers, is of course quite dangerous, but that is what daring slaves are for!
***
THE TEMPLE OF ERESHKIGAL
Every Annunaki, at one time or another, fails the high standards to which they are held, or else strays from orthodoxy into foolishness. They are enlightened, not perfected. It is for this reason that they submit themselves to confession, punishment and repentance within the great temple of Ereshkigal, Goddess of Protection and Punishment. Know that it is better to confess. It shall be the worse for you if you do not. Your secrets are already known, your hidden deeds revealed. Speak, and receive merely a child’s discipline, bent low over their knee, or made to kneel with your face before the altar. Seek to hide from those who see all, and you shall be shamed publicly, or else kept in spartan chambers until you are willing to repent.
Beneath, the ab-Ereshkigali serve still as judges and the hidden eyes of the gods. Their authority is absolute over the life of a slave, and those brought within the great iron gates of the temple know that they descend into the underworld. Some emerge again sore and flushed, tormented with both pleasure and pain until the Knights were satisfied. Others are led out smiling blissfully, their wits washed away by hypnosis, now nothing more than pleasantly vapid pets.
Remember especially: the Knights are quite pleased to hear you confirm the sins of others. Betray a resistance contact, and perhaps the whip will be satisfied, you unworthy worm.
***
CAPHTOR HERSELF
Deep within the temple of Enki there is a great brass vessel. Within this elaborately constructed vessel, the size of a ziggurat itself, is trapped the mystic energy of a Djinn, drawn from the black between stars into this perfect device. This Djinn, who is named Caphtor in honor of the city which is her body, is plied with the wines of magnetism to keep her tame and pliable, and to reduce her alien intellect to something that better befits the slave of the city.
It is this Djinn that provides power for the city entire, for the many wonderful devices of the ab-Enkiji, and acts as messenger and herald, envoy and wise fool for the many Annunaki of the city. They alone may summon her, and from they alone may she receive instruction. At any one time, she is extending her vast consciousness into ten hundred different places, half-aware of every one of them, and it is for this reason that her manner is vapid and distracted, like a drunkard or a hypnotized slave.
If she was ever released from that perfect prison... well. Only the ab-Enkiji know what would happen, and that matter is sealed. To seek that knowledge is forbidden. If you are fortunate you shall be caught and handed over to the Knights. If you are not so lucky, you will have learned those secrets before your inevitable capture, and then you will have passed into the possession of Enki, and you shall be no more seen in the city, save as one of the giggling witless.
Speak not of TIAMAT. Speak not of Apsu, which failed. Speak not of the Iblis Protocols. This knowledge is not for you.
The ab-Marduki are ascendant in Caphtor, having claimed not only the post of seneschal but recruitment rights in the city’s Academy campus. They are no longer secure enough to press gang slaves at will to serve in the janissary corps they train, as they once were, but still maintain a firm grip on Caphtor politics. They are servants of Marduk, the God of War and Submission.
The ab-Ishtari are Caphtor’s second political block, ever arguing that flies must be caught with honey. They maintain the Academy and the many public shrines to the High Gods, and are in charge of the many public holidays and festivals, as well as the entertainment of the masses (including, infamously, gladiatorial games). They are servants of Ishtar, Goddess of Love and Domestication.
The ab-Enkiji of Caphtor are politically allied, if tenuously, with the dominant ab-Marduki, if only to keep the prying eyes of the Sisters away from their ritual dungeons. They maintain the Goetia that binds Caphtor and seek the deep mysteries of Enki, God of Craftsmanship and Secret Knowledge.
The ab-Shamashi are wild, strange folk ill-suited for planetary gravity, servants of the God of Transport and Glory. They maintain an enclave near the docks of Caphtor, and routinely must be punished for seeking to circumvent the will and word of the al-Marduki.
The ab-Ereshkigali are the dark hand of their beloved sisters in the ab-Ishtari, dangerous and feared for their fanatical faith in the purity of the High Gods and the great chain of being. They serve Ereshkigal, Goddess of Protection and Punishment.
The High Council of Caphtor consists of the Seneschal, Haman ab-Marduk; the Hierophant, Miryam ab-Ishtar; the Fabricator, Danyal ab-Enki; the Warden, Rut ab-Ereshkigal; and the Huntsman, Asahel ab-Shamash.
You are not the first that the Annunaki have subjugated. The jewels of their circuit each offer up tributes of slaves in their turn. The Lynxes, long of leg and ear, skilled huntsmen and attentive servants. The Thornbacks, bitter and spiky, trusted to vent their spite on their inferiors. The Trolls, huge and brutish, slamming stone blocks into place with their four arms. The Macaws, trilling and colorful, darting here and there on errands. The Salamanders, strong and scaly, proud to serve their gods. And, most terrible of all, the ominous Shrikes, mobile weapons platforms consecrated by the priests of Enki and animated by dark and dreadful thaumatech.
Slave Rebellion Enûma TIAMAT Apsu Construction Project (failed) GOETIA, #1-72 The Mysteries of the Priests of Enki Iblis Protocols
Sealed by the Office of the Fabricator and the Hall of Justice.
You have allies in this fight, of course. It would be nigh impossible, otherwise.
The Resistance does its best to fight the good fight. You might be in contact with a cell or certain representatives, but paranoia is high, given the luxurious incentives offered for selling out a cell. Those found to be Resistance members are punished horribly in the Hall of Justice. Those found to be Resistance leaders are hypnotized into mindless, drooling harem trophies or mewling pets. The Annunaki do not kill, but they can make you live the rest of your days in a pink haze of useless bliss. Those who risk this are still able and willing to act as diversions, disruptions, and intel gatherers for the Phantom Thieves.
The Cult of Dumuzid spreads its subversive message of abolition and mercy under the noses of the ab-Ereshkigali, rallying around the name of a famous Annunaki abolitionist, heretic and martyr. Their sign is that of a Ram, or just its flayed fleece, and they deny the doctrine of the Great Chain. They are considered Subversive Elements and subject to terrible punishment when caught. Despite this, often unlooked for, you may find help from unexpected quarters. Dumuzid lives!
AEGIS was not able to stop the invasion. AEGIS was not able to save the Stellar Union or the Defenders of Love. What AEGIS was able to do was go to ground, hard. Now, they keep the Annunaki on their toes and do their best to bolster the Resistance. If you get in contact with the AEGIS presence in Caphtor by dead drop, you can get professional tradecraft assistance from trained agents. They never get involved personally, unlike the Resistance: they’re too important.
On your first incredible mission, you...
...did well and impressed an important ally. Who was it?
...saved the life of someone important, either to the Resistance or to yourselves. Who was it, and why are they important?
...had to deal with a danger from the farscapes. What was it, and how did you send it back home?
...did well and impressed an important ally. Who was it?
Robbie Raver, Superstar Journalist - who moonlights as the hero Omega Man. He was the one who popularized the Crusaders of Light previously, and he was filled with vindication to see that Canada hadn't given up after everything that had happened. Seeing her still doing heroics restored his faith and he has been the pen behind the furious popularization of the Phantom Thieves.
He does understand popular mood, though. Keeping Canada's name out of the headlines is necessary for now. He's looking to invent her a new alias and get the public used to that before asking for their forgiveness. But he, personally, is a believer.
On our first mission, we encountered a, hmm, what would the word translate to, a Projector perhaps? Not like the tool, but one who projects. The primary creature is actually quite large, perhaps twice the height of a human, nearly ten feet tall with long arms, a tan fur across the whole body, and an elongated snout-like face with small sharp teeth. They have the power to create illusions, mental landscapes of various sorts. They're not particularly complex, the creatures primarily use them as a hunting tool, overlaying details on the landscape that camouflage them or make them entirely invisible while the victim may not even realize that they're seeing an illusion (unlike the more complex fair that one gets from, say, Asterion). They normally hunt on the other side of the galaxy and exist in a sort of half-physical, half-etherial state, their primary prey being various kinds of pyschic parasites they can devour.
The ab-Enkiji had some kind of small device that was attuned to the realms of one of these creatures and they activated it when we broke into their lab. The Projector was enraged at first. It projected an illusion as it entered of itself suddenly disappearing to hide its attacks and we had to fend it off. It eventually calmed itself after smashing most of a lab and hurling away several guards that we directed it towards. When it did, we were able to communicate with it in basic terms and it let us activate the Enkiji device again so that it could escape.
Althoug the Enkiji had activated it themselves, it was much easier for them to explain to their superiors that the Phantom Thieves had summoned some sort of monster that had wrecked their lab and that they had no responsibility for the damage whatsoever, which only added to our reputation.
The High Gods themselves are... well. They’re probably like the Annunaki, but they project their own conceptions of themselves so forcefully that it’s hard to think about them clearly. Ishtar is the Queen of Heaven, undeniable and irresistible; Marduk is the General, terrifying and vicious. Though individual recollections differ, they’re usually described like members of the Annunaki: bronze-skinned and dark-haired, tall and willowy, bedecked in gold and silks. It’s just that they’re also ten feet tall and heavily armored and could crush you like a bug while you cower at their feet.
Shrikes are terrifying. Seven feet tall with an impressive wingspan, they would be difficult to fight, what with their arsenal of weapons and nigh-impervious armor plating, even if they weren’t upgraded with thaumatech to be inhumanly strong and agile. They never give up on a mission once they have their orders, they sometimes work in teams, and the only good thing about them is that they’re hideously expensive and time-consuming to make, each one worth more than some planets. It’s estimated that the occupation only has thirty Shrikes to keep the entire planet in line. (Well. Maybe not the only good thing. Everybody’s heard the friend-of-a-friend story of running into a Shrike while unveiled, and simply having them haltingly, clumsily laugh and then just advise the criminal not to get caught again.)
The Thornbacks are bad news. They’re put-upon personal assistants, skilled artisans, and taskmasters, and there’s nothing your average Thornback likes more than venting stress by punching down. They have more in common with cacti than any mammal, and have wizened little faces, gangly limbs covered in spurs and spikes, and fingers with far too many joints in them. Most of them are a deep, glossy black, and they commonly wear either thorn-pinned scarves or loose robes, depending on their owner’s preferences.
Djinn are the Annunaki answer to AI, and because the Annunaki are terrible, that answer is to imprison a dispersed energy consciousness in a magnetized lead vessel, only letting it partially phase out to serve as an interface. They’re capable of doing complex thaumaturgic calculations on the fly and memorizing practically anything for brief periods, but they frequently have to dump their memory, given how they are plied with the wines of magnetism into a haze of vapid laughter and geniality.
Salamanders are four-armed, reptilian bombshells, if you’re into dating outside of your species. They’re very sinuous. They’re also a warning for humanity, having forgotten the name of their own planet and the history of their species entirely. Most of them want to keep their heads down and avoid trouble, but there’s always one or two enchanted by Earth and willing to share their knowledge of how to get by...
Lynxes are feline aliens, graceful and swift, used as hunters and messengers and dancers by the Annunaki. Shrikes are too important to use on minor troublemakers, so most insurgent cells instead have to worry about Lynx trackers. More than one would-be revolutionary has found themselves dragged into a dark alley for interrogation by hunters with ungentle claws and fangs. (And more than one has, in turn, been saved by canny use of perfume bombs. Sufficiently pungent odors give them crippling migraines.)
Trolls are huge, multi-limbed silicon-based creatures used as guards, construction workers and shock troops by the Annunaki, in each case relying on their ability to carry out orders implicitly. Rumor has it that the last Troll Queen is secured in the vaults of Babylon, each one of her eggs removed by handlers before they can hatch, and that for her sake no Troll will ever disobey orders.
Macaws are small, brightly-plumed flightless avians, now finding themselves directly competing with humans for “who’s the cutest?” About half the height of a human, with brilliant feathers, they’re useful as singers, messengers and decoration, as well as household staff, and most of them are pretty quietly bitter that humans are both good at those things and close enough to Annunaki in appearance to be favored.
That miss is an advance, so flagging here that I'm grabbing Watch C-Beams Glitter.
When you make a claim about a strange situation or phenomenon based on your experience, roll + Freak. On a hit, you were right; the GM will tell you what opportunity your knowledge grants to you. On a 7-9, your claim is incomplete, flawed, or tangential; the GM will tell you how. On a miss, your experiences are incomplete; the GM will tell you what mistake your flawed understanding leads you to make.
I don't feel like we've progressed enough to set up a call to the Zhianku, but I think calling the cavalry is what I'm aiming for next advance, with maybe some plans to pick up the fictional tech Anathet will need for that in this session (maybe even some spare bits from #MAT here to get things started).
