BLACK ATLANTIC
THE LEOPARD ROUTE
BRITAIN
BATH
UNCHARTED TERRITORY
A
TERRITORY OF THE PICTONS TERRITORY OF THE PICTONS
PLYMOUTH
BRIGHT
THE DEAD CHANNEL THE LEOPARD ROUTE OIL RIG OGEN
OIL RIG TETHYS
THE CELTIC SEA CAEN (DESTROYED)
MONT SAINT-MICHEL
MORLAIX
THE LAST STAND
ST.. B RIEUC ST USHANT
GA N MARCHI
BREST
ALENCON (DESTROYED) CARHAIX
RENNES LEMANS (DESTROYED)
BRITON VA N N E S
CARNAC THE SEV
FOREST OF THE DRUIDS
THE ATLANTIC THE RUINS OF NANTES
OIL RIG ATLAS THE LEOPARD ROUTE
TO AQUITAINE & TOULOUSE
CITY
TOWN
OUTPOST
ROAD
TRADE ROUTE
RUINS
OIL RIG
ZIGGURATH
SPORE FIELD
MOTHER SPORE FIELD
NORTHWES COAST OF F 2597 A.D.
STUKOV DESERT
TERRITORY OF THE PICTONS
TERRITORY OF THE STUKOV NOMADS
ONDON RGYRE’S DOMAIN
TERRITORY OF THE CORPSE EATERS
JANUS CRATER TO SPICAFIELD
N TERRITORY OF THE CORPSE EATERS
THE PROTECTORATE (FRANKAN SIDE)
THE GAUNTLET ZIGGURATH OF GANARESS (DESTROYED)
BASSHAM BORDER POST NORTH (DESTROYED)
THE SEINE
ZIGGURATH OF MARKURANT (DESTROYED)
RESS' G ROUTE
TERRITORY OF THE CORPSE EATERS
THE PASSAGE NORTH
PARASITE ZIGGURATH OF PARASITE
ENTH ZIGGURATH
UNCHARTED TERRITORY ZIGGURATH OF IOMEDES
THE LOIRE
N
ERN ANKA
W
E
S 0
100
200 km
SOUFFRANCE
BLACK ATLANTIC
NU NINDA - AN EZZATENI,
WA WATAR�MA AR�MA EKUTTENI
[HITTITE WRITING]
MARKO DJURDJEVIC
EDITORIAL PUBLISHER
ART DIRECTION & ARTWORK
SIXMOREVODKA
Marko Djurdjevic
CON CEPT & IP DEVELOPMENT
ADDITIONAL ARTWORK
Marko Djurdjevic
PRODUCTION Marko Djurdjevic Adrian Fekete Seb Downie
AUTHOR Marko Djurdjevic
Gerald Parel Michal Ivan Andrius Matijosius Högni Jarleivur Mohr Chris Kintner Claudiu Magherusan Monika Palosz Alessandro Poli Valentin Gloaguen Hugo Wei Lam Ho
TRANSLATION
MAPS
Monique Lee Oliver Hoffmann
Adrian Fekete Chris Kintner
EDITING AND PROOFREADING
CROSS SECTION PAREL'S ISLAND
Monique Lee
Chris Kintner
LAYOUT & DESIGN
C R O S S S E C T I O N B L A C K A TL A N T I C
Marko Djurdjevic Adrian Fekete Jerzy Ferdyn
Kemp Remillard
QA & PROFILES
COVER DESIGN Marko Djurjdevic Adrian Fekete
Seb Downie Matthias Edelmann Jens Kürten
DEGENESIS BY Christian Günther & Marko Djurdjevic
SPECIAL THANKS Adrian Djurdjevic, Monique Lee, Andy Azbah, Greg Greg Kotler, Carmel Spivak Spivak Divon, Dennis Nußbaum, Volker Volker Steinmetz, Michael Duttenhöer, Duttenhöer, Russell Binder, Martin Behrendt, Mathieu Filipic, Erwan Roudeaut, Renart De Maupertuis, Roliste TV, Julija Valkūnienė, Jose Manuel Rey, Gilles Garnier, Curro Marin, Sandy Julien, Stephane Bogard, Matteo Casali, Magnus Lenz, Tomasso Alderighi, Duccio Lucattelli, Roberto Irace, LUCCA Comics & Games, Paul Haberstock, IFCC, Jörg Holder, Alain Solheid, Jens Kürten, Thomas Choyer, Neville Lamarche, Jonte Minh, Asame Hikari, Antoine Kirdinn Nobilet, Alberto Toro, Marc le Merdy, Simon Moskala, Juan Preciado, Tomasso Gollini, Steffen Schnurpel, Frank Barner, Steve Snow, Greg Faillace, Scot Tumlin, Jeff Jew, Den Yang Ho, Blake Midstokke, SCALE 75 & & all DEGENESIS ans worldwide.
Degenesis® is ™ SIXMOREVODKA Studio GmbH. All rights reserved. The mentioning o or reerence to companies and products on the ollowing pages constitutes no copyright violation. All names, titles, Characters, texts and illustrations in this book are © SIXMOREVODKA Studio GmbH. All rights reserved. No part o this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any orm by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior express permission o the publishers. Printed in the EU by Standartu Spaustuve.
CONTENTS DEGENESIS BLACK ATLANTIC CHAPTER 01
STARFIRE
12 -
87
CHAPTER 02
BURNT IDOLS
88 - 125
CHAPTER 03
B L A C K A T L A N TI C
126 - 243
CHAPTER 04
THROWN TO THE GODS
244 -
277 277
B L A C K
A T L A N T I C
7
PROLOGUE
SUBLIME Grey clouds race across the indigo sky, their quick movement appearing as i in a time lapse. The sur breaks ashore with a roaring noise. Splintered spires jut rom the water; the stone slope is draped in the dress o the orest's trees. An eerie wind blows through the treetops o the nearby birch orest and they sway as i in a trance and shed their leaves. A veil o yellow and orange orange oliage is carried carried upward upward by the breeze, tumbles through the air and rains down on the Anabaptist packs on the beach. It’s October. “They are coming!” Barringer looks at his leader, awaiting his order. Vicarent nods. “Now!” Four Orgiastics come running, a heavy wooden trestle in tow. An iron pan attached to it by chains dangles below. The men pant with effort, as their boots sink ankle deep into the brown mud. Vicarent stares into the iron pan, then at Barringer and then back again at the metal container’s contents. Every look is hasty, every movement quickened. It is as i time is being kept at an accelerated pace. The gang surrounding them is restless – a viscous, unintelligible gruel o words fills the beach. Hundreds o pairs o eyes stare at Vicarent questioningly. Fear o their own mortality oozes rom every pore o the warriors, a cold sweat clings to their oreheads. A distant distant murmur murmur comes rom rom the the birch birch orest orest on the slope. slope. Vicarent approach approaches es the the pan. From the let, let, Barringer Barringer hands him his bidenhander. The Sublime takes its hilt and grabs the sword. His eyes scan the smoothly polished blade. For a heartbeat, he observes his reflection in it. It is the moment he has been preparing or all his lie. The final battle is approaching, and only the most holy o Anabaptist relics can save Briton rom utter destruction. The Starfire. The eternally burning black stone is in the pan, surrounded by a cloud o ebony-colored streaks that obscure its true orm – the fingernail o the Demiurge. Vicarent sharpens his blade on the stone, jerkily grinding the metal across the black crystal, bathing the sword in the cloud o cosmic ashes. A booming sound rom the birch orest interrupts the ceremony. A shrill noise, as i the wind was blowing through
a hollow tree trunk. Everyone turns and looks at the slope. The signal. “War horns!” A muscle on Barringer’s jaw trembles. Vicarent nods knowingly. “Do it!” Following his order, Barringer jumps towards a small campfire, tears the iron pliers rom the embers and runs back to his leader. Vicarent clings to the hilt o his sword like the Touched cling to their aith in the Broken Cross. His head tilts back and hands come rom all sides in order to keep the Sublime upright. A bald Ascetic smears Vicarent’s ace with a colorless paste. Irritated, the Sublime shoves the man aside, his eyes fixed on Barringer. Vicarent nods at his brother-in-arms and Barringer reacts without a sign o hesitation. He thrusts the glowing points o the pliers deeply into Vicarent’s nostrils. The Sublime writhes in pain and his whole body trembles with rage. Dozens o arms hold the leader in place. The red hot iron scorches Vicarent’s mucosae, singing his nose hairs and filling his throat with smoke. The small veins in Vicarent’s eyes burst into ans o blood and tears run across his twitching cheeks. Black smoke billows rom his mouth. Barringer rips out the pliers. All hands let go o Vicarent. The Sublime manages to stumble three steps orward beore a cry o pain tears through his scorched throat. But his cries are drowned out. Another roar sounds rom the birch orest across to the beach. “GANARESS! GANARESS! GANARESS!” Outlines emerge rom out o the groves. Naked bodies and hollow aces. A human bow wave o spears, axes and biaces disentangles itsel rom the undergrowth and calmly walks down the slope towards the Anabaptists. They are ollowed by Fosters, their bodies pale and bloated with sagging breasts and drooping rings o belly at. Vicarent cannot taste or smell anything. His throat is ablaze. He raises his hand. It’s trembling. “Stop!” he yells in agony to the henchmen trailing behind him. “He is not here yet!” The Orgiastics raise their swords as Spitfires howl and clouds o fire rocket skywards. “There!” Barringer’s shout cracks, his finger pointing let towards the slope. A staggering tree trunk appears between the birches, carried by dozens o drones. An Idol. The
grimace o their master has been chiseled into it. He walks beneath it. Ganaress, the Lord o the Legions. His arms are spread as i trying to take the whole world into them. His stature is monstrous, a giant maggot swollen with lard and encased in a lacteal skin. His head is adorned with a crown o glands the size o fists. “He's gigantic!” Barringer whispers stunned. The first wave o Ganaress’ scent hits like a flood, inundating the ront line o the Anabaptists who are standing to the right and let o Vicarent. The swords all rom the hands o the warriors as they smell the king’s aroma. Tears o salvation roll down their cheeks. Some all to their knees, sinking into the wet sand and crying in a state o bliss. Vicarent ignores them. With his sword raised, he starts walking, holding the blade in ront o his chest like a shield. He marches straight up to Ganaress. The orest o human bodies gives way creating a path in ront o him. The drones march alongside creating a barrier and watch with lieless eyes as the Sublime makes his ascent. The sun is at Ganaress’ back. It blinds Vicarent who can only make out the silhouette o the Demiurge’s herald. “GOOD HUMAN. COME TO ME!” Ganaress says suddenly. Every word is sweeter than mother’s milk, every syllable, like the caress o God upon Vicarent's heart. The Sublime’s senses are numbed, all smells driven out by the smoldering fire in his nose. Ganaress’ affliction is overwhelming. The drones buzz in unison. “BE PEACEFUL. GIVE SWORD!” Peaceully, Ganaress extends his bloated arms to Vicarent. His ace is ull o love - an infinite calm is reflected in his eyes, which have retreated like black snails into the bulging sockets under his brows. The thoughts o the Sublime are in a ree all. Vicarent is one year old, his mother is eeding him at her breast. Vicarent is twelve years old, the birds are chirping an unparalleled love song. Vicarent is eighteen, or the first time, he kisses the woman o his dreams. Vicarent is 23 and he looks his newborn child in the eye. Vicarent is here. It is now. A single step separates him rom Ganaress. The low hanging autumn sun crowns the knotted skull o the Pheromancer King like a halo. Vicarent humbly lowers the blade, his eyes searching or orgiveness in the moss at his eet.
"DO NOT WORRY ABOUT YOUR BETRAYAL, PROGENY OF MAN!" The voice o the Pheromancer King is like a bell, every syllable an indictment or the last judgment. Vicarent is ashamed o even the slightest thought o resistance. Ganaress lays his wormy fingers gently around the blade. A sickly smile reveals a series o tiny teeth partially buried in his charcoal-colored gums. The glands on his head swell with greed. Black smoke rises between the fingers o the Pheromancer King. Vicarent risks looking at the colossus. His eyes rest upon his ace. Suddenly, a red spot, the size o a plate, appears on Ganaress’ orehead. Then, another one on his throat. The Pheromancer's eyes widen in astonishment, as i realizing that something unoreseen has come to pass. Still holding the blade, his hands suddenly become covered in pustules and Ganaress’ skin begins to melt – with the scream o a wounded whale, the king lets go o Vicarent’s two-handed sword. This is Vicarent’s moment. Without a thought, the Sublime attacks with his bidenhander. The tip o the sword pierces Ganaress’ abdominal wall with a loud hiss. The steel slides through a layer o at as thick as a human arm, severing innards and exiting the Pheromancer King's back. The flurry causes Ganaress’ glands to burst. Salmon-colored pheromone clouds explode rom his skull, concealing his look o desperation. His flesh quivers. Tens o thousands o termite eggs gush out o Ganaress’ pores in waves and rain down on the floor. With a merciless jerk, Vicarent tears the bidenhander rom the body o the colossus. Ganaress staggers on. Teeth break ree rom his jaws and oily blood flows rom his nose and mouth. The spot on his orehead has grown to the size o a pumpkin. His legs give in and his stomach bulges; Ganaress’ entrails spill out onto the ground. A high whistle drowns everything as i a hole had been shot into a huge oxygen tank. "POISONED!" Ganaress gurgles. The demon is on his knees, gasping or breath. Vicarent takes aim. With a single blow, Ganaress' head is ripped rom his body. Triumph!
B L A C K
A T L A N T I C
11
C H A P T E R
STARFIRE
H O LY L A N D Free land. Holy Land. Briton is invincible. This piece o land at the end o the world has written history. It has defied the machinations o the Demiurge. With a single stroke o his sword, the Sublime Vicarent slew the Pheromancer King Ganaress and delivered a whole people rom the curse o Franka. This is the legend that has spun the yarn o Briton's invincibility or twelve years now. A abled final battle, into which numerous other tales have been woven, leaving no one able to decipher what really happened on the 11th o October in the year o 2585. Autumn is returning returning to the the country, country, and thus, the the holiday in honor honor o the Sublime. Sublime. The Anabaptists Anabaptists pay pay homage to their hero Vicarent, or he has achieved by his own power what no one else was able to beore him. He is the Chosen One, the conqueror o the Demiurge. Heroic epithets and exploits widely attributed to his greatness alone fill entire books now. His mind is stronger than the power o the Pheromancers; pure Pneuma flows through his body. Under his watch, Briton shall remain invincible. While many reach such heights only ater their mortal demise, he has already become a legendary figure within his lietime. Everywhere he sets oot, people bow in awe. For years, however, there have been rumors o an alleged Starfire, considered the most holy o Anabaptist relics. The Starfire supposedly helped Vicarent attain his victory and the Spitalians are anxious to get to the core o these rumors. The Border Post North has been destroyed and the Cult o Doctors has lost one o its main bridgeheads in Franka to swarms o parasites. Where two years ago, the North Passage linked Briton to Borca, one finds today a marshy death zone, making it impassable. I a miracle like the Starfire Starfire actually exists, the Anabaptists must reveal it. Bargaining is not an option or Vicarent. He challenges the Spitalians o Rennes, threatening them openly and warning them not to mix themselves in the affairs o the Anabaptists. I the snooping should however continue, he is more than willing to dismantle the brotherhood o arms. Ater all, it was his Cult that reed the land rom the Pheromancers and wiped out the Demiurge. Anyone who who is not a member o the Broken Broken Cross has no right right to come into close proximity proximity o the Starfire. Starfire. Even Even the knowledge o the relic's location is not known outside the circles o the Anabaptists. This alone is reason enough or the Spitalians Spitalians to become suspicious. They dispatch a secret elite unit o the Red Pack to explore Briton. Preservists. Kranzler's people. The local Epigeneticist Dr. Vega is the brain o this clandestine operation, which bears the code name "Mission Concorde". Their objective is to reveal the mystery o the Starfire. I need be, with brute orce. But the Spitalians are about to lose sight o their objective at hand. An oily substance has washed ashore causing previously undocumented mutations. The doctors are convinced that there is only one conclusion to be drawn: The sixth Chakra is about to bloom. As these events unold, another danger is spreading in the slipstream o Mission Concorde. Brest, Briton's capital, has become a haven or something powerul, and it attracts the attention o two Marauders. Argyre and Aries.
HOW TO USE THIS BOOK Briton. The end of the world. A rugged coast, a free people. Anabaptists and their chapels, as far as the eye can see. Wheat is in full bloom and peace hangs over the land like a benevolent veil. The influence of Souffrance is but a distant echo. It is a place defined by its legends. But whosoever wipes away the dust of the story, quickly discovers that underneath a web of unhealed scars lays hidden. An invisible threat is on shore leave. For five hundred years it has been waiting, relentlessly biding its time, snaking along the coastline. Now the moment has come and it can finally leave the water.
This book contains the truth about northwest Franka, the sixth Chakra, as well as the machinations of the Marauders. It offers new possibilities for seasoned players to unravel the mystery of Jehammed's Will. The chapter "STARFIRE" introduces Briton's epic history, describing the country, its people and their conflict with the Primer spawn. It also provides the scene and starting point for the present story. "BURNT IDOLS" unleashes the destructive forces hidden in Briton and sheds light on the dramatic events unfolding in the background. The adventure "BLACK ATLANTIC"
sends players on a merciless odyssey through Briton, where they are confronted with dangers of past, present and future. "THROWN TO THE GODS" provides a brilliant end to the campaign and details what is to come. BLACK ATLANTIC combines the strengths of a regional source book with a variety of background information for a scenario that can instantly be played. It lays the foundation for one-of-a-kind gaming sessions on the northwest coast of Franka. At the same time it ties up loose ends of previous narratives and foreshadows approaching events in the the world of DEGENESI S.
B L A C K
A T L A N T I C
15
