Kickstarter Manuscript Setting Preview #9: Santiago
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Kickstarter Manuscript Setting Preview #9: Santiago © 2019 White Wolf Entertainment © 2019 Onyx Path Publishing Santiago: Contagion of Morality Mining created Chile. The story of men who go down into the mountain and chip away at minerals in the darkness and then suffer an accident that leaves them at the mercy of that darkness is part of the DNA of Chile, an integral part of the country’s history. — Ariel Dorfman Chile appears, in wider view, to be the spine of South America, stretching in a long, thin sprawl from the arid north of the Bolivian and Peruvian border to the lush green and snow-covered mountain ranges of the Andes in the south. In the center of it sits the vast city of Santiago. The dichotomy of the country is reflected in the lives people live there. Extremes of opulent wealth and dreadful poverty are evident in all parts of the country. However, with its abundance of people, space, and resources — and without the watching eyes of the world examining your every move — Chile is a great opportunity for those alive to monstrous possibilities. It is a place of striking beauty and terrible secrets: perfect for unscrupulous men and women to weave a conspiracy that could expand to dominate the continent and beyond. As they recovers from the dual tragedies of the regime of Salvador Allende and the Junta of Augusto Pinochet, Chileans look to the future with hope for what is to come. Nevertheless, the past has left its scars upon this land. And, unbeknownst to them, from those scars bleeds the Contagion. It has affected Chile for longer than most of the Sworn factions realize with the containment of the initial outbreak. It is unclear even to the conspiracy that now contains it if it was the Contagion that wiped out all life in the area now known as the Atacama Desert or if the barren land was there to greet the first outbreaks into this world. What is clear is that the damage it inflicted never fully healed. The base camp of Tierra Amarilla sits in a valley at the heart of the Atacama known as “La Cicatriz.” It is not known to house any great resources or hidden secrets other than aesthetic attraction for tourists, and that is ideal for their purpose. Secrecy is paramount. Of course, that is only their secrecy. The secrecy of others? The new government? The citizens themselves? The other operators working in the recovering economy? They are of no concern to Tierra Amarilla. With unseen eyes, they spy on their competitors, allies, and clients alike. Eyes they forged themselves from the blood of a wounded reality. What are they hiding in their headquarters in distant La Cicatriz? Or perhaps, who? To most, it’s all a long way from Santiago. Theme and Mood A contained Contagion is a dream come true to some of the Sworn. The chance to study it is almost irresistible; they rush in to take advantage. Surely, studying it in this inert state could be the secret to understanding it, using it, better fighting it elsewhere? But as we study the abyss, it studies us in return. Theme: Gold Rush Fever For both the Sworn and the citizens of Santiago, Chile is growing. Tierra Amarilla are pumping funds into the Government’s coffers from a litany of shell companies for the use of little more than a barren wasteland devoid of exploitable resources. This stimulus promotes a mood of overwhelming optimism among the citizens of Santiago, which is seeing the stark benefits flowing down from the Presidential Palace of La Moneda. Particularly, programs to stimulate the arts are booming. Sculptures, portraits, and huge murals of famous figures from Chilean history such as Ferdinand Magellan, Pedro de Valdivia and Bernardo O’Higgins have cropped up all over the area. Among the Sworn, word has spread of a Contagion outbreak somehow contained in the country. Some rush to preserve it or to study it while others try to extinguish it for good, but all come to a city in Santiago which seems to be on an upward trend, awash with a vibrant and youthful culture eagerly searching for its shot to explode onto the world stage. Mood: The Cynical Subtext of Success Behind the mask of the ongoing investment and artistic boom, there is a strange undercurrent. Something doesn’t smell right about the sudden upturn in the country’s fortunes. Many dissidents rail against their nation’s dependence on outside investment. Werewolves howl in the sands of the north and the streets of Santiago itself about a strange weakening of the Gauntlet and imbalance between the forces that once kept the area stable. Strange tales spread of blackmail and arrests of people who speak out. It seems the walls have ears and eyes in Santiago, as though a lurking spirit watches over the people of the city as they go about their business. What Has Come Before With its mix of excess and deprivation, Santiago has long hosted an eclectic collection of outlandish monstrosities, both human and otherwise. It is a seat of the vampires of the Lancea et Sanctum, who glory in the prevalence of Christian belief in the country. They hold their nightly covens in the shadow of the Sanctuary of the Immaculate Conception on San Cristóbal Hill. Their Bishop, the Daeva Yelena Contreras, remains aloof to the political upheaval in the recent past. This, in turn, has left them at odds with the recently appointed Prince and mining magnate, Pietro San Martin of Clan Gangrel. This corporate apex predator, loyal to the Carthian Movement, keeps watch on his city from palatial offices atop the towering, 261-meter-tall skyscraper Gran Torre Santiago. The disconnect between those two societies brings conflict to the streets at times, as young zealots of the Sanctified clash with their Firebrand “allies.” In truth, Bishop Contreras found it much easier to operate when the Invictus held the city; they seemed happy to let the Church Eternal conduct its work if they abided by certain niceties. However, their removal and the rise of the Carthian Movement amid popular uprising and the spread of democracy has led to uncertainty among the Kindred leadership. To this day, Bishop Contreras maintains that her role in the rise of the Pinochet regime and its extremes, which affected Kindred society as well as human, was no more than as a silent observer. Thankfully for her, the Carthians left none alive who could have shed light on the subject. Around this upheaval and tension, a pack of werewolves known in urban myth as La Paz have kept watch on the denizens of the city’s outskirts for generations and have maintained a permanent presence in the National Astronomical Observatory of Chile. They are the most well- travelled of the creatures with a presence in Santiago. Their history runs all the way back to the native Mapuche tribe as wardens of the harmony between the harsh deserts of the north, the lush midland expanse, and the frigid peaks of the Andes. They tend to remain aloof unless moving against a great threat; therefore, their increasing presence in Santiago suggest they have something to say. It remains to be seen if any will listen as, aside from their obvious physical prowess, the werewolves of La Paz have few temporal resources to offer the well-heeled city dwellers. A small krewe of Sin-Eaters who refer to themselves as Oyentes have been operating through the starvation and the slaughter of the past 40 years, trying to lay to rest the turbulent underworld of Santiago. They have a long-established presence in a former Convent building opposite the site of Villa Grimaldi, the most important complex used to interrogate and torture political prisoners during Pinochet’s dictatorship. For the past 20 or so years, the Oyentes have worked under the guise of a credit union for working families called Fundación Arrieta. The Oyentes gain a great deal of knowledge from the comings and goings in their facility, as those in need of money for a funeral or a loan for medical treatment often bring tales that the krewe find useful in their work. However, the vengeful nature of the Geists that haunt the bloodstained corridors of Villa Grimaldi gives them a darker aspect than they like to portray. This would explain why the citizens of Santiago treat them with the same cautious respect as one would treat a local crime lord or perhaps even a low-level member of the Junta from times past. Each of these groups talks about the Renegade Deviants who have slipped their bonds in the Atacama Controlled Zone. Such individuals often have a short shelf life in the city’s history; indeed, many of the people who have gone missing from their beds in the dead of night from the past to the modern day fit into this category. But Sofia Morientes has, thus far, evaded capture. She is a local legend who the homeless and the hungry speak of in reverential tones as a vigilante protector and a provider of food and clothing. Many rumors of her activities circulate throughout the low-rent areas of the city and fuel her Robin Hood mystique. What most accounts seem to agree on, despite her obvious good points, is that Morientes is quite clearly insane. She has a habit of defacing public monuments and artworks, even going so far as to score the eyes of the statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary at San Cristóbal, much to the chagrin of Bishop Contreras, who placed a price on her head for the deed.