AVERNUS
Contents
INTRODUCTION
The underworld of the Greek pantheon is a dark place filled with wailing souls and marked by the eternal sounds of rivers lapping up on muddy shores. The shades of the dead here are wispy things, their extremities fading out of sight and their bodies seeming to be tatterdemalion bits of smoke and gauzy nothingness. The normal dead wail endlessly and piteously, though not loudly. They are barely existent, so they make little sound.
Hades is not kind to normal, average souls. Only those who lived existences of great heroism, creativity and excellence have any kind of solid existence here. Mediocrity is rewarded with more of the same, and the souls of the pathetic dead are themselves hardly worth considering.
THE OUTER SHORES
The River Styx separates Avernus from the World, flowing in a circle around the lands of the dead. Across the Styx, however, flows the Phlegethon, a river of dark-colored flame that burns with no fuel. In truth, it is easy to mistake them for being a single river, for no bank separates the Styx and the Phlegethon, which runs parallel to the Styx’s dark waters as they surround Avernus. Practically speaking, this results in there seeming to be two barriers between the land of men and Avernus: a river of water, then a river of fire.
The ferryman Phlegyas poles his barge across the Styx, picking up any soul that wanders the mortal side of that black river, whether they are living or dead. His duty is not to keep any soul in or out of Avernus, but merely to provide means by which they might cross.
This circle of water and fire is broken by another two rivers: the Cocytus and the Acheron. Phlegyas travels up the Cocytus, dropping his charges off on the barren lands between the Cocytus, which means “the river of wailing,” and the Acheron, which means “the river of woe.” This stretch of swampy land is haunted by the souls of the dead, waiting for Charon in his barge. According to burial customs, the dead were buried with either a coin over each eye, or a coin under the tongue, that they might pay Charon for passage into Avernus proper. Those who have no funereal coin are forced to wander the swampy lands that lie between the Cocytus and Acheron for 100 years, wailing their misery for all to hear.
All the rivers in Avernus are vast, and the land itself is quite dark. It is impossible to see very far, even through the use of supernatural means. The ferrymen of Avernus find their way through the gloom more by knowledge of where they are than by actual sight. Mortals and many Scions become lost quite easily here, and sometimes, lost souls can be found who have gone astray, floating listlessly in the river or wandering nearly blind along a marshy shore.
THE FAR SHORES
Those set onto the swampy shore of the other side of the Acheron are met first with the smell of flowers in the air — the scent of asphodels. The gloom gradually lessens, and the soul finds himself walking the Fields of Asphodel, a vast rolling plain. This plain is covered with blossoming asphodels, and there are many forms that wander its length and breadth. The souls of heroes and Scions might be found here in strong relief, appearing as they did in life, if a bit paler. About them, flitting like moths to a torch, are the souls of the unremarkable dead, those who did not bear up the Virtues of the Dodekatheon. Such souls seem wispy and tattered here, for those lacking in the excellence (the “arete”) the Greeks and Romans held in such high esteem are practically non-existent. It is easy to be overawed by the sight of the Field of Asphodel, with the tall, basalt towers of the Palace of Hades in the far distance that one does not notice the stealthy approach of Cerberus.
The terrible Hound of Hades, with its three heads, and a tail and mane made up of writhing serpents, finds all who cross the Acheron. The dead are nudged on toward the Fields of Asphodel. Those who demonstrate any hesitation to continue onward are growled at and prevented—by force, if necessary—from withdrawing back across the Acheron.
The living are warned away with a growl, their passage impeded. Cerberus does not permit the living — not even Scions of the Gods — to pass into the lands of the dead any further. Heroes in past ages have overcome Cerberus, for it is Fated that he shall impede those of living or dead nature, but not the divine. Yet—as is appropriate for the Greeks and Romans—the divine beings must prove themselves through great feats.
The heroes of the past have overcome him in a variety of ways. Where Heracles wrestled him into submission, most of those who needed to pass him found a means of lulling him into sleep. Orpheus played his fine music, relaxing the ever-vigilant hound, while Hermes caused the beast to sleep by tricking it into drinking water from Lethe. Moreover, both the Sybil of Cumae and Psyche tempted it into eating drugged honeycakes, taking advantage of the sweet tooth with which the beast seems cursed.
Woe to anyone who slays Cerberus or deals him lasting harm. Striking the beast with intent to slay, or even simply maim, invokes the wrath of Hades and his bride, who are unkind in their demeanor and will seek vengeance. There is no question that most demigod Scions can slay the hound Cerberus. Yet it’s a true test of a hero’s skill to demonstrate his ability to bypass the great beast without slaying it.
THE FIELDS OF THE DEAD
The Fields of Asphodel swarm with the unworthy dead, and the souls of heroes and Scions who lived lives of neither overwhelming good nor evil. In many ways, the dead of the Fields of Asphodel are those most accursed in the eyes of the Gods here, for they hadn’t the resolve to be either glorious heroes or wicked villains. In fact, they suffer the most debilitating of all conditions to the eyes of the Olympian Gods: mediocrity.
Passing through the Fields of Asphodel is a strange experience for the living. The pitiful shades cluster around them, brushing them with fingers that feel like cobwebs against the face. The souls of Scions and other heroes simply watch the living pass them by, with looks on their faces as though they were trying to recall something important. The dead here do not remember their existences as mortals, having sipped from the waters of Lethe. Only libations of blood made to them by those in the World allow them to recall the sensations and memories of humanity. Although widespread ancestor- worship once granted the dead recollection, now they are simply gray, confused remnants of great men and women.
As one moves on, the asphodels diminish and black stones lie underfoot. Nearing the basalt Palace of Hades is the Field of Erebus, whose name means “darkness.” The black stones that make up this forecourt actually form something of a path, which leads to the base of the staircase that leads up to the Palace proper. This pathway forks at the Palace. One path travels away into deep, cold darkness, while another leads into a place of light, where the scent of apples lingers in the air.
As one moves on, the asphodels diminish and black stones lie underfoot. Nearing the basalt Palace of Hades is the Field of Erebus, whose name means “darkness.” The black stones that make up this forecourt actually form something of a path, which leads to the base of the staircase that leads up to the Palace proper. This pathway forks at the Palace. One path travels away into deep, cold darkness, while another leads into a place of light, where the scent of apples lingers in the air.
At the crossroads where the three paths meet—called the Great Trivium—sit three men in carved thrones: Minos, Rhadamanthys and Aeacus, the souls of three Scions from ancient days. This crossroads is sacred to Hecate, whose blessings are noted by the presence of the ever-burning torches behind each of the thrones, illuminating her judges. Traditionally, it is the role of Rhadamanthys to judge the souls of “easterners” (from the Greek perspective, of course), that of Aeacus to judge the Hellenes and the peoples of Europe, with Minos casting a deciding vote in the ultimate fate of both.
Those found worthy and heroic, who upheld the Virtues of the Olympian Gods, are permitted to pass into the Elysian Fields, down the road of light. Those found wicked and without virtue must pass down the road into darkness, where the soul is cast onto the outer surface of Tartarus (the Greek Gods’ name for the Titans’ prison). They remain stuck there as souls once were in the days before the creation of the Underworld, where they can only howl into the cold and black void for all of eternity. Those whose actions were too wicked for the Elysian Fields and too good for Tartarus earn themselves an eternity of bored mindlessness as a shade in the Fields of Asphodel.
Once judgment is rendered, all souls must drink from one of the wells that flank the judges. The largest of the wells — which is really a pool that opens into some of the subterranean flows of the River Lethe — is for most souls to drink from. It renders the soul amnesiac, causing blissful forgetfulness. The other, smaller well, however, is Mnemosyne, or “memory.” Only those initiated into the Eleusinian Mysteries were permitted to drink of this well. Rather than it cleansing their memories, they retained them and passed to their final reward in a state of responsibility. Whether bound for the Elysian Fields or Tartarus, they knew why they were there. This knowledge made their suffering in Tartarus so much the worse, or their joy in the Elysian Fields was stronger for remembering that they’d earned their places there.
THE PALACE OF HADES
The Palace of Hades stands high over the surrounding lands, glaring down at it from above. Its exterior is flat black basalt, without windows or architectural features, resembling more of a war memorial than a palace of nobility. A flight of stairs, crafted of the same black stone as the Field of Erebus, ascends a full story in height to the single cavernous opening that leads to the throne room of Hades and Persephone.
In contrast to its grim exterior, the Palace within is a place of deep, rich jewel tones, glittering with dusky gold and tarnished silver everywhere. The highly polished, black marble floors reflect the glories above it, creating the impression of standing midway between riches above and riches below, all out of reach of the petitioner. The décor recalls the reason why Hades was called Pluto, “The Wealthy,” by the Romans, for its sheer opulence.
The tall thrones of Hades and his queen, Persephone, sit upon a tall dais. His throne is crafted entirely of black basalt, inlaid with silver and deep purple jewels. When Hades sits upon the throne, blood spilled in sacrificial funereal trenches drips down from the ceiling above, spattering his brow with prayer-rich blood. The throne of Persephone is white marble, inlaid with gold accents and deep crimson and burgundy gems the color of pomegranates. When Persephone is gone from Hades, dwelling with her mother Demeter, her throne is covered in a gauzy white shroud, upon which a single pomegranate rests.
The interior of the Palace is tremendously larger than its exterior, holding incredibly ample royal wings for the king and queen of Hades, as well as numerous guest wings for visitors and guests. In the center of Persephone’s wing stands a grove of pomegranate trees, with a sky of rich midnight blue-black above, twinkling with stars. Incredible galleries of artwork and riches open to it on all sides, and though it does not seem to have a roof, there is no place that corresponds to it when the palace is viewed from without. The rest of Persephone’s wing is decorated in seasonal motifs, as befitting the daughter of Demeter.
Hades’ own wing is close and claustrophobic. The rooms are alternately tight and cavernous, as though one traveled underground. Sounds echo ominously here in the oppressive silence of the place, and the shadows are thick. Few enter into Hades’ domain here. Even Persephone insists he visit her wing, refusing to come into his realm.
PERSEPHONE
AKA: Kore, Nestis, Proserpina
Description: The daughter of Demeter and the wife of Hades, Persephone is a divided entity. On one hand, she embodies life and growing things, and the joy that comes in spring; on the other, she is the Iron Queen of the dead, served by fl itting shades, and the dread that comes in autumn, when the tribe is unsure who will survive the winter. When she leaves Hades’ side, Persephone is fond of walking the World. Her dalliances with mortal men do not cause Hades consternation, for she is not his queen during the warm months of the year. She has been the torch-song singer, the Mafi a courtesan, the nurturing prostitute and the gothic diva. Themes of life and death are always mixed up in who she is, and she always wears jewels the color of pomegranates, to remind her of her fate.
Dominions: Epic Appearance, Epic Dexterity, Epic Wits, Death, Fertility, Psychopomp
Abilities: Academics, Empathy, Occult, Politics, Presence, Stealth
Rivals: Hera, Hermes; Hel, Izanami, Isis, Kalfu, Tlaloc
PASSAGES TO AVERNUS
The legends of ancient Greece and Rome are rife with stories of descent into the Underworld, and of the activities of the honored—or despised—dead. There are many ways of entering the realm of Hades. In every case, those who use these Passages find themselves standing on the shore of the Styx, awaiting passage by the ferryman Phlegyas.
Tombs and Funerary Architecture: The Greeks used several kinds of tombs intended to act as a conduit between the lands of the living and those of the dead: walled-in family plots, polyandreion communal graves, and heroon and tholos monumental tombs were the most common among the Greeks. All of them are marked with so-called “sacrificial trenches,” where human or animal sacrifices were made to Hades. Their blood collected and seeped into the trench, to soak down to Hades’ throne and carry with it the prayers of families to treat the beloved dead kindly. A Scion or other creature of Legend may use this blood trench as a Passage to Hades, dripping his own blood into the trench while he spends a point of Legend. When he opens his eyes from the prayer, he finds himself kneeling upon a stone that rises up on the shore of the Styx.
In contrast, most Romans were cremated. Funereal masks were constructed for the cremation, and the body burned while wearing it. A Scion who finds or constructs one of these ancient masks may don it and enter a Roman columbarium (i.e., a place where the urns containing the ashes of the dead were placed in niches). Wearing the mask, he need only stand inside the tomb while someone outside the tomb seals the entry. When he then spends a point of Legend, he’ll be transported to the River Styx’s shore.
Natural Features: Many natural features have served as entries into the Greek underworld. Perhaps the two most famous are the cavern in the Peloponnese and the crater Avernus, located near the town of Cumae. Heracles used the former to enter the Underworld and wrestle Cerberus as one of his Twelve Labors. Both the Greeks and the Romans believed the latter was an entry into the realm of Avernus.
Likewise, the Acheron River in northwestern Greece acts as a Passage into the Underworld. Even better, however, is the Nekyiomanteion, an archaeological site along the river excavating a Greek temple dedicated to the dead, once home to an oracle who channeled the ancestors. Although normal Passages can only be used by those with access to the Death or Psychopomp Purviews, the power of this site’s connection to necromantic magics allows Scions with access to the Magic or Prophecy Purviews to descend into the underworld of Avernus as well.
Rituals: The Greeks and Romans were interested in maintaining contact with the dead, but few rituals were designed to actually take the living to their realm. The Mysteries, however, did just that. In particular, the Eleusinian Mysteries—based around the passion play of Hades’ theft of Persephone and the grief of Demeter—the Orphic Mysteries—describing the descent of Orpheus into the Underworld to retrieve his beloved—and the Dionysian Mysteries—based around the sacrificial death, consumption of the God’s body and blood by the faithful and resurrection of the wine-and-grain God again — are perfect for that purpose.
These rituals postulated a descent for the initiate into the Underworld that was not one-way, but rather a function of metempsychosis, the transmigration of the soul into successive incarnations, armed with memories of previous incarnations. Mortals were their strongest adherents, but these cults were truly founded by and for the children of the Gods. Scions who take part in these initiatory rituals can use them as a Passage to the Underworld. Moreover, they are guaranteed the ability to return, as long as they are able to drink from the well of Mnemosyne. Doing so returns them immediately to the time and place that they departed, as though they’d never left.
Of course, Scions may also use funereal rites as normal, but they rarely do. Frankly, the Mystery Rites are just as easy to research and perform as funereal rites, but with no risk of death if the one performing the ritual does not do so properly.
Times: The ancient Hellenes had little in the way of national holidays and festivals. Generally speaking, each of the city-states or regions of Greece had its own set of festivals, in which there was generally some celebration of the dead. Honored ancestors were remembered on the anniversary of their deaths, for the most part.
Therefore, Scions of Olympian Gods may actually use the anniversary of a parent or grandparent’s death as a Passage into the Underworld, though they must be at the ancestor’s gravesite to do so, and must spend an extra point of Legend to facilitate it (for a total of two points).
The Genesia festival of ancient Athens, held approximately a week after the full moon in March, was used to honor the dead, particularly those who died in wars. As such, that date may be used as a Passage into the underworld of Avernus. The Roman festival dates of Parentalia (February 13th through 21st) and the Lemuria nights of May ninth, 11th and 13th, in which ghosts were feared to be active may also be used as nights in which to travel to Avernus.
