Catacombs of Centropolis
There are a handful of locations of particular interest to the Sabbat in Centropolis. Below are described these few places.
Temple: A Bunker of Blood
In the heart of the Sabbat-claimed district of Centropolis, Missouri, lies a suburban neighborhood once touted for its affluent allure. Real estate costs, however, drove potential buyers out, leaving homeowners locked into these houses until they passed on. Such was the case with a lovely two-story house on the corner. Well, it was lovely. It has fallen into disarray in the past years: the paint flecks on the outside walls and the grass is frequently overgrown. Old gardening implements now lay discarded on the porch or yard. Only the virtual invalid widow, Mrs. Doris Polantka lives here now, along with her half-dozen cats!
The three bedrooms upstairs are quaint. One is in perfect order, set up as a guest room no doubt. Another is cluttered with sewing materials. The last is where Doris sleeps and spends much of her time. The place is not a mess, but it does smell a little funny. The downstairs contains a dining room and kitchen and living room. Most of the furnishings in these rooms have been abandoned, and covered in plastic to keep the dust off of them. Few if any visitors ever come by. It's as if Doris is just waiting to die. The basement meanwhile is a "junk pile" of antique knick-knacks and furniture that Doris just doesn't want to get rid of. Boxes and crates of such things are piled chin high and leave little room to navigate through narrow corridors. The lighting is poor, too, and the dust is thick. It's little wonder anyone comes down here.
And that's how an old secret stays kept. In the back of the basement, farthest from the rickety wooden stairs and behind stacks of boxes with only a little space rests a hatch in the cement floor. The hatch reveals a short ladder that drops down only about five feet into a cement corridor covered in dust and spider webs. An old bomb shelter! This corridor widens into an effective sub-basement set into the foundation of the house. There is only about ten feet of clearance and the lighting is old if functional. However, aside from a few foundational pillars, the bunker is open and clear.
Perhaps that's why it suits as the Sabbat Temple so well. Once the diocese moved in, the pillars were garnished with laurels and the dust and spider webs were mostly cleared out. Otherwise decorations were left out for the practicality of adding possible ritualistic glyphs and wards of thaumaturgical power. The back of the bunker had a dais added, along with a pulpit and the black, bloodstained cauldron of Vaulderie. The other side of the chamber was sectioned off by sharp wooden posts to denote a training area (whether sparring or magical practice). A few Spartan steel desk chairs were propped against walls randomly. No lights were added, keeping the bunker dark and dismal, a Stone Age relic of the Cold War era.
But there's more. The eastern section of the bunker was curtained off with satin. Two dozen cots were set there almost side-by-side, providing a communal haven to sectmates. Finally, a small portion of the western wall was knocked out, revealing a direct link to the sewer tunnels beyond. Covered by a false brick wall to match the surroundings, this "door" easily leads sectmates in and out of the temple without gathering more attention by entering through old Mrs. Polantka's basement. Home sweet home? Not quite…but it'll do.
Revenant Home: Porok Manor
Porok Manor rises up amongst a whole neighborhood of wealthy homes of equally overproportioned dimensions, all of which are within sight of each other. Located on the fringe of the territory of the local Sabbat, this area was designed for middleclass folk that mortgage their life away so everyone thinks they're upper class. But some of these homes were purchased outright by people who truly are ridiculously wealthy. What's become known as Porok Manor is one such home.
Though only two stories from the ground up, the small mansion occupies thousands of square feet and boasts eight bedrooms. Though most of these rooms go unused, they are all lavishly furnished with rich rosewood and silk. Heavy velvet curtains of dark burgundy seal all the windows from penetration, matching well the dark conglomerate rocks that lift the walls high. The black tiled roof slants only slightly, with both a weather vane and cable satellite decorating the slates. The yard is closed off from the street with a squat wall that encircles the perimeter and the very small yard. What yard there is has not been used for beautification. Only grass, often wild and uncut, rises behind the wall. No gate cuts off the driveway that curves up to the two-door car garage.
Flagstones break from the drive to lead to the front door. Past the front door brings the visitor into a small antechamber where there is only a hat stand and coat closet. Most likely the first host the visitor meets is one of three growling Rottweiler guard dogs. But then a house servant immediately welcomes the guest and invites him or her to partake in any number of small delights the manor offers.
Three halls lead from the antechamber. To the left one finds the kitchen and dining hall, a lengthy affair with place settings that seem to rarely be used. The silver sits in a hutch behind the long oak table. Swinging doors lead into the kitchen, which is a large room and any professional chef's wet dream in set up and tools. To the right from the antechamber, short steps lead down into the den. Several plush sofas, armchairs, and love seats are arranged around a Persian rug. A stereo system sits next to a fully stocked bar. A television is implanted in wall shelves. The room feels smaller by the furniture arrangements, in order to give it a more confidential air. A door virtually hidden among the shelves can lead one to the basement, while another hall leads back to an open chamber. This room contains almost nothing but a polished wood floor. Perhaps it's a small ballroom? A door leads outside through the back from here.
Going straight through the antechamber brings one to a double set of stairs that face each other and head up to the second floor. The second floor is richly constructed and each bedroom seems to be the master, they are all that large. Each bedroom contains a king-sized canopy bed, dresser, walk-in closet, and its own personal bathroom. Conversely, taking the winding stairs into the basement reveals an unfinished, musty, cobwebbed cellar. The only thing of note down here is the rack of wine, but there are few bottles remaining.
Indeed, despite the house's rich furnishings, there seems to have been little expense spared for decoration or lighting. There are almost no paintings, houseplants, sculptures, pictures, or anything else on display anywhere in Porok Manor. It leaves the place feeling dark and forbidden. Curiously, if one inspects all the copper walls close enough, one may find unused nails where pictures once hung. Naturally, few Sabbat vampires give a damn what the place looks like, as long as it's safe! Owned and occupied by Zantosa revenants, Porok Manor is indeed a secure haven. Its constant noisy parties and orgies may annoy some Sabbat, but at least it offers a regular in-flux of young vessels from which the undead may feed.
Former Temple: Broken Altar
The Bunker of Blood was not the first temple of the Diocese of Centropolis. An old abandoned church located in the heart of their territory was. Terrible events struck the Sabbat in 2005 and an earthquake-like shockwave virtually leveled the building. The catacombs below the church collapsed and the sanctuary was demolished. The roof was almost completely vaporized, leaving the place utterly useless to the Sabbat. It now stands as another eyesore in the city of Centropolis: a piece of land going unused, desecrated and forgotten. Most disturbing of all is the strange sensation all visitors, Kindred or kine, receive when they visit this place. Shattered pews are strewn across the floor, creating a maze to cross through to reach the back where the altar once stood. But now that holy dais is broken in two, its innards shadowed and worrisome. A palpable sense of dread engulfs anyone who ventures too close to that altar. Perhaps what caused the temple's destruction is still here somewhere… Or maybe the place is now just very haunted. Either way, it is not a welcome site for anyone, living or undead.
Communal Havens
This is a list of communal havens available to the Diocese of Centropolis.
- Bunker of Blood
- Porok Manor
Back to Overview
Packs