By Kraig Blackwelder, Myranda Kalis, Jonathan L. Shepherd, Adam Tinworth and Janet Trautvetter
Vampire created by Mark ReinHagen
2 dark ages: inquisitor companion
CreditsAuthors: Kraig Blackwelder (The Ways of the
Faithful (The Lamp of Faith, Endowments, Curses, Merits and Flaws)), Myranda Kalis (Playing the In-quisition (Life in the Church, The Inquisition in the Church), Soldiers of God, Servants of Hell), Jonathan L. Shepherd (Playing the Inquisition (Sample of Play), The Ways of the Faithful (Orisons and Holy Art)), Adam Tinworth (My Order, My Brothers) and Janet Trautvetter (Prelude, Playing the Inquisition (Serving the Inquisition)).
Storyteller game system designed by Mark ReinHagen
Development and Additional Material: Mat-thew McFarland
Editor: Michelle LyonsArt Direction, Layout & Typesetting: Becky
JollenstenInterior Art: Mike Chaney, James Stowe,
Tim Truman, and John WigleyFront Cover Art: Adrian SmithFront & Back Cover Design: Becky Jollensten
2004White Wolf Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved. Reproduction without the written permission of the publisher is expressly forbidden, except for the purposes of reviews, and for blank character sheets, which may be reproduced for personal use only. White Wolf, Vampire, Vampire the Masquerade, Vampire the Dark Ages, Mage the Ascension, Hunter the Reckoning, World of Darkness and Aberrant are registered trademarks of White Wolf Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved. Werewolf the Apocalypse, Wraith the Oblivion, Changeling the Dreaming, Werewolf the Wild West, Mage the Sorcerers Crusade, Wraith the Great War, Trinity, Dark Ages Storytellers Companion, Dark Ages
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prelude: Womans intuition 5
chapter one: my order, my Brothers 19
chapter two: playing the inquisitor 51
chapter three: the Ways of the Faithful 91
chapter Four: servants of god, soldiers of Hell 129
Prelude: Womans Intuition
The questioning had been long, punctuated by the creak of the rack and the cries of agony from the woman strapped to it. The racks bone-wrenching strength and the tireless interrogation of Sir Augustin were relentless forces, allowing the woman neither rest nor pity as they struggled with Satan for her immortal soul. In the end, the effort had been fruitful; Sister Mathildes fingers all but cramped trying to get down the womans faltering confession.
Mathilde did not pay much attention to the meaning of what she was writing. It took all her concentration just to keep up, letting the words flow from her ears to her fingers without filtering them with her mind. Thankfully, Sir Augustin was an old hand at such interrogations; he waited until the scratching of her pen stopped before asking the next question, skillfully monitoring both the pace and clarity of the confession so it could be properly recorded.
6 dark ages: inquisitor companion
At last, Sir Augustin was satisfied. Even Sir Baudioun, whose limited German prevented him from handling task of interrogation himself, could find nothing more to ask. One-Eyed Huart turned the wheel back, relaxing the racks tension, and the two Red Sisters released the weeping Agnise from its bonds. Huart made sure the prisoners manacles were secured before allowing Sister Mathilde and Sister Katherin to escort the wretched woman to her cell, a makeshift affair on the womens side of the chapter-house.
Shes in your care, Sisters, Sir Baudioun said, with Sir Augustin translating. Take special note of anything else she says, and harden your hearts to her pleas. Her confession today only proves what Brother Leopold first suspected. There is a foul nest of Satan in this city, and she is but the first we shall uncover; Master Nicolaus shall be the next.
With all due respect, Sir Baudioun, Sir Au-gustin. Katherin shot Mathilde a warning glance, but Mathilde ignored it. Her confession is hardly sufficient evidence to convict anyone but herself. Her accusation alone wont be enough to try Master Nicolaus before the Council of Faith, much less bring charges against him before the Salt Merchants Guild.
We will be investigating her accusations thor-oughly, Sister, so you may put your mind at ease. Sir Augustins voice brooked no argument, and a disap-proving crease appeared between his bushy white brows to signal his displeasure. Your task is to see to this poor creature until the Council determines her proper fate.
Sir Augustin turned away, but Sir Baudioun stopped him. Mathildes command of French was sufficient to dispense with Sir Augustins translation, so Baudioun spoke openly. Wait, Augustin. In Brother Leopolds absence, Sister Mathilde may be able to assist us she is his kinswoman, after all.
Sister Mathilde, my brother knight makes a good point. You are related to Brother Leopold, and a member of the house of Murnau. Augustin paused, awkwardly.
He is my uncle, yes, replied Mathilde in her best French, though I should confess, Brothers, that to me this poor woman smells of sweat and fear and unwashed clothing. Nothing more.
After that confession, are you doubting Brother Leopolds gift? Sir Baudioun asked, astonished.
No, Brother. Im telling you I dont share it. For which I thank God. She could see the disap-pointment in their faces; so be it. Her own gift was less practical in application and rather harder to explain. Im told I have a good instinct about people, however. Since none of the Oculi Dei yet dwell in this city, perhaps it might be useful if Sister Katherin and I spent some time listening to the talk in the market
They would hardly gossip in the presence of two holy sisters, Sir Baudioun returned, frowning slightly.
Then clearly we must put aside our habits for something less conspicuous, so they will talk more freely in our presence. As the Rule permits and with your permission, of course, Brother, Mathilde added, seeing the frown lines reappear on Sir Au-gustins forehead.
Sir Baudioun thought about it a moment, then nodded. As you see fit, Sister, he agreed, but with discretion. We do not yet know the extent of the Devils conspiracy here. In addition, if you would have the transcription of her confession prepared as soon as possible, I would greatly appreciate that as well.
It had been years since Mathilde had visited
a market. Shed forgotten the press of crowds; the clamor of venders shouting, arguing, haggling; the lowing of cattle and squawking of chickens; the squeals of children running about underfoot. All was noise, chaos and disorder. It was a far cry from the order and quiet of the convent: the stillness of the cloister, the rustle of crisp parchment pages, the rise and fall of plainsong chant at services. It felt odd to wear a blue and brown matrons plain kirtle instead of her red habit and surplice, a simple kerchief covering her cropped hair, her throat bare of any wimple. Strange, indeed, to blend in with dozens of other women in the square, instead of being set apart by birth, profession, and the curse in her blood.
Master Nicolaus, hes a good man, as fair in his dealings as they come. Ilse tucked away the candles she had just purchased neatly in her basket. Mathildes years in the convent had not prepared her for this task. Inside its walls, she was one of the sisters. Her origin or birth was considered
7 prelude Womans intuition
unimportant, even irrelevant. Out here, however, the sense of displacement was made more acute by realizing that she was considered undoubtedly foreign by those around her, truly a pilgrim in a strange land.
Surprisingly, Mathildes strong Bavarian accent had made Ilse less suspicious of her questions; perhaps she assumed none of her employers business rivals would hire a foreigner as a spy. Even so, Mathilde had to listen carefully, for Ilses broad local dialect was sometimes hard for her to follow. Ten years Ive been with him, and he and Mistress Annas been good to me. Ill not spread gossip; its careless words as raises an ill wind.
Oh, of course, Mathilde assured her. My mother, God rest her soul, used to say the sam