The Cycle of Gehenna


Note: The following epic is for the White Wolf – Vampire: The Masquerade Live Action Role Playing (LARP) game we named Sanguis Priscus. The Cycle itself is an oracular prophecy given by Saulot and written down by Caine concerning Gehenna. Each verse is a clue to an event which will awaken an Antediluvian for each of the Thirteen Kindred Clans, and are presented in turn to the players before each event occurs. It is up to the players to figure out what the verse means and how to stop the event.

Disclaimer: The copyright to Vampire: The Masquerade is held by White Wolf Publishing Inc, and all material presented on this page is used without permission. However, no plagiarism or copyright infringement is intended. The Cycle of Gehenna is an epic poem written by Michael R. Vickery for the Sanguis Priscus game, and is © 1998-2001 for the sole and express purpose of furthering the original plot of said game. I acknowledge White Wolf's rights to claim intellectual property on the material inspiring said poem, but the poem and plots are mine.

That said, on with the Cycle…


When He who rises from the grave
rises from mouth and hand,
when Blood flees from lips that crave,
first of Ancients wake and stand.
Sunlight burns in dead of night.
Wylde Children dance and play.
Stroke of teen bring us fright:
second of Ancients now hold sway.
Watch the viper, prone to lie,
coiled to strike, end of time.
Pure of heart doomed to die;
third of Ancients now to climb.
One to think, one to act
and one to watch and wait.
Join these three in a pact
for Ancient thirst to sate.
Lightning flash, roar of thunder
herald the cursed of Sire.
Lightfoot eel with chosen plunder;
watch the Ancient rise from bower.
Bubble, bubble, twist and turn
through the Labyrinth you must go.
Fire and ice, freeze or burn,
rise the Ancient you will know.
In deepest, moonless night
play the counter and moves.
Helpless pawn falls to blight
that Ancient player removes.
Angels sing with hallowed voices.
Lift them above the clouds of white.
Act swiftly, ere your choices
fall to the Ancient in the night.
Through clouds of smoke and haze,
children leap to fire and strife.
Elder statesmen lost to Aramanth;
next of Ancients come to life.
Struggling kindred hand in hand
into the mirror must gaze.
From below one will stand
for this Ancient's face to blaze.
Pretty puzzle on the floor,
with pieces strewn abroad.
Feel the passion to implore
next of Ancients will applaud.
Robe of purple, crown of gold
adorn the ruler of king.
Warriors young, proud and bold
kneel before this Ancient's ring.
Silent in his strife
moves the killer's blade.
Blood spilled begets new life;
thus Ancient debt is paid.
Rejoice the child of light
birthed from womb of dark.
Warrior's hand or healer's sight
will prove the Ancient's mark.
Through the murky dark
seek the holy light.
Find the skin of bark
to solve the Ancient's plight.
Come the Ancients in a ring
'round the Faithful Few.
Death and sorrow now to sing
this augury false or true.