Ever been the head of a cult?

Ever been the head of a cult?
In-game, I mean

Yes, actually, there wa-

>In-game, I mean

Oh. Sorry, nevermind.

Well I was a Mormon Priest, so I was like a Cultist Supervisor. Didn't get to Cultist Mid-Management though.
Oh, in game...

Yes but now it seems boring since it happened in-game.

My DM is a witness, does that count?

inb4 "omg so edgy lul"

What is the difference between a cult and a church in a fantasy world?

Why don't cults have paladins?

same as the real world

Because killing people in the name of a cult is just generally more frowned upon

Damn you, clever, sexy user, you stole my response.

Inadvertently. Who would have guessed that a death cult based their leadership on murder?

Not yet, but i seem to be working my way towards it. In the last session of Vampire the Dark Ages my Toreador had just finished a battle that involved duelling Jesus Christ, the Archangel Michael, and Saint George in front of an armed force of some sixty men who were busy hacking at each other in an orgy of religious violence. After defeating her three opponents, actually a bunch of Malkavian vampires disguised by their powers, she loudly denounced them as demons cloaking themselves in false mantles of divinity. Then she openly used her blood to heal the dying and restore the maimed in full view of everyone.

Now she isn't claiming to be a saint or an angel, but she's kind of strongly implying it by denouncing the false messengers of God and then openly working healing miracles and shit. Suffice to say, a cult may in fact be forming around her. Amusingly, she wouldn't be the first Toreador in Constantinople to form a cult around herself by pretending to be an angel. Though hopefully she won't go insane and start believing she's actually an angel like the other guy did.

In call of Cthulhu I made a sort of Mole city twice, was a head of a cult on some ways.

The first time I was shot down by a rain of rubber bullets, the second time they tried to burn down the abandoned warehouse we had taken over to found Mole city 2.0

Ghost is shit tbqh familioso

Yeah for about 2 sessions. Ended up fooling the cult into thinking I was possessed by their god. I ended up killing all of them by making them drink poison. Now we have a base and a bronze throne of skulls I'm trying to sell off to whoever wants it.

Christianity(non WBC) vs Scientology.

Less a cult, more a commune, but yes.
And a word to those trying to get one started: if you're the head of the cult, and the proles take your every word super seriously, for fucks sake, DO NOT crack a joke about committing mass suicide. They will fucking do it.
Doubly so if you know you have relatives of government officials in your ranks.
Having an ENTIRE NATION out for your hide is not fun.

I played a warlock who owned a brothel in waterdeep. My cult operated out of that brothel and I kept some ghouls in the basement for entertaining some of the troublesome locals/anyone stupid enough to try to fuck with the party in town.

Cults are small and insular, churches are part of large well organized religions. Cults encourage followers to cut ties to anyone who questions their beliefs, including friends and family. Churches encourage as many people as possible to participate in their religion of choice. Cults are completely devoted to the human who leads them, while Churches tend to represent the prophet of their religion or their religion's deity or deities.

One of my character's accidentally became the head of a cult, which is now shaping up to be an entirely new religion.

In the religious scheme of things, he's both Joseph and Abraham, his wife (the party paladin) is Mary, and their three kids are all Jesus-ish.

Every religion has to start somewhere.

Although, Paladins are probably more for established religions. Cults strike me more as primarily Clerics for their warriors.

Because of DM magical realm and a weird holy curse my character was made the figurehead of a cult unwillingly. It revolved around his "holy seed" and ability to father children with the divine template. Basically it boiled down to him being on the run from all sorts of personages looking to get at his dick and get some holy jizz, either for ritual purposes, as a magic component, or just to get a baby with it.

Glad I never played with that DM again, she was a total pervert.

There are no true differences here, other than choice of semantics.

The thing is a church they sell to you that they are faith. Cults lull you in as some fun social group before they lay the heavy shit on.

As someone that was inducted into one(never even realized it till my parents pulled me out) there is a very clear difference, but it is hard to tell until you're on the inside. Even then...

Was she hot?

>Was she hot?
Please, tell us user

can we count in real life?

Oh and are you interested in joining Your Friendly Neighborhood Squid Cult?

Hmmm.... I dunno. I've heard some pretty fishy things about you guys. What's the message you guys are spreading these days?

Calamari is delicious and obviously the work of gods.

One time I was playing a wrestler, got good rolls at the right points and pulled off wacky shit like suplexing a grizzly bear, drop kicking a dragon etc
The cult wasn't my choice though. Popularity is a factor when playing a wrestler so the DM made it so I had a cult like following.
Peasants and lower class people would swarm and bother me, middle class would keep their distance unless I approached them and high class folk would often seek audience with me.

Hmm. That is true.

But what kinda health care packages are we talking about here? are we gonna be like "expendable minion and/or sacrifice #3685" or are we actually going to have some care from our glorious and fearless leaders?

Because the last cult I was involved in was kinda shady.

No, but I was GM in an occult game.
The villain was the leader of a cult, and the player I started the campaign with was a Charisma type. He couldn't fight the cult leader, so he started he own cult and began recruiting out of the lower ranks of the enemy cult until it became top-heavy, and lost it's grip on the town.

There is a difference in recruitment methods and organizational structure to be sure. Cults tend to be much more extreme, and VERY exploitative of people, using exploitative tactics, brainwashing, psychological bullshit, up until downright illegal stuff like kidnapping and blackmail.

Churches/religions are generally a lot less fringe, a lot more accessible, and a lot more mellow than cults. They often work alongside the government to a degree and generally don't try to get away with doing tons of illegal shit.

I mean, there's still all that sex abuse shit and a few high-profile individuals who hoard wealth from charity, but for the organization as a whole that's not the end goal (though money and power are kind of the end goal) even when they cover it up because scandals interfere with church operation rather than being in the mission statement. Cults leaders are often egomaniacs and when they get a taste for it and a sway over their flock they just start fucking children, doing drugs, and hoarding guns, justifying their actions will bullshit cult reasoning and actively villainizing whatever authority has a vested interest in keeping them from raping people, cooking meth, and arming an anti-government militia. Organized religion is generally amiable and friendly to governments and other authorities, so they have a vested interest in keeping business as usual within the bounds of legality.

Not myself no, but there's one player in our group who has. Multiple times. The first time he made a religion centered around himself, a church where bladed weapons are sacred and fanatically opposed to undead. He managed to convert a sizable population of the nation we were in, until they all died (+ all nations around them too) because he accidentally released the biggest and baddest undead.

In a second game he played as a kind of prophet for a goddess no other player could ever have heard of. This is because he invented the goddess, and essentially had an invisible guy to cast spells whenever he "prayed" to his goddess. Pathfinder Mythic rules being crazy, he eventually managed to ascend to be able to grant spells to followers like gods do, but he kept preaching that there was a goddess above him.
In truth, he serves another goddess, she of illusions and deceit.

That sounds like less of a definition and more of a list of stereotypes.

Exalted will give you a cult at character creation.

No one cares about Exalted.

Yeah, my DM wanted us to play the beginnings of the cult of the dammed and the start of the Scourge. He wanted me to run the Cult when papa Kel'Thuzad kicked it at the prince's hands.

The other players knew fuck all about WoW or its setting, so it was fun.

>start as a literal beggar
>rainy day in bustling Andorhal, shit sucks
>hear fanfare and clapping as some fop on a horse rides through town
>it's a noble from Stratholme
>as he passes, I panhandle him for alms. He isn't immediately revolted, so this interests me.
>offers me a job as a stable hand at his manor in the city and has a Dwarven guard escort me across Darrownere.
>the dwarf is chummy, but stern. Whatever, at least he's not treating me like garbage.
>sun starts getting low so we have to stop in Corrin's Crossing to rest, my feet hurt because no fucking sandals or shoes
>we go into the inn, but I look like a soggy gryphon turd, so the harsh looks are unnerving. I tell the dwarf I'm gonna step out for air while he situates our accommodations.
>see a crowd near the crossroads, so I go over to see what's up.
>it's a bearded man in coarse brown robes with an ornate walking stick preaching about a world where all are equal; nobles, beggars, and kings are all the same
>any who wish to see and build this new world are welcome to join him on the hill in the north woods outside of town when the moon grows full - follow the torches.

I'll post more on my break in a few hours.

On a 10

>he leaves, but in vaguely intrigued. I think he's a nutter.
>later we're bedding down. The dwarf is out fast, but I'm having a hard time sleeping. The blisters in my feet are keeping me in addition to my fading paranoia of other beggars stealing what little I had in the night. The night is dark, but the moon is full.
>I head out to kill time and figured I'd see what this gathering was about. Maybe he had food?
>I follow the torches through the woods, and the only thing I can hear is their crackling and my footfalls. I've been in the forest before, and it's never this quiet. No owls, no insects, nothing.
>I see an orange glow of campfire and a clearing. There's a single clearing and a figure that seems to have the head of a ram by the outline.
>it's the old man in some new robes and a strange cloven skull worm like a helmet.
>he speaks warmly, and softly, and thanks me for coming.
>he tells me of my thoughts of jealousy and resentment for the upper crust, and offers me a way to the top
>I ask what it'll cost me
>he tells me only my humble service.
>shoveling horse shit for the rest of my life sounds unappealing, and I was going to be a servant anyways, so I reluctantly agree.
>he tells me the first step is to drink and brings me to a small water basin filled with a foul liquid.
>he tells me to dip my hands in the well and drink.
>I do so. It tastes like liquid corpses. I nearly vomit, but hold on to my dinner. Then my head began to throb and my insides felt like the First War was going down in them.

More after I get off work.

So numbers and social acceptance.

Ghost has a great concept but they aren't even metal....

however, pic related.

...

cults are over-rated. warbands are awesome...

quit with the tubmlr gifs, man, they have no staying power and look fake as fuck...

>Ghost has a great concept but they aren't even metal....
Ah, to be twelve again

So he worshipped the she-god of ruse?

More please

Yees. ALL HAIL THE QUEEN!

Off work.

>when I came to I felt something near me, within me. It felt dark and malevolent, but I was not afraid.
>the old man asks me how I feel. He asks if I can hear Him.
>I tell him I can hear a frigid whisper, but I cannot make out words, not yet.
>he congratulates me on my initiation and asks my name. I tell him my name is Diodor. He says I am the first of the ranks of the Damned, and will be the Damned.
>Diodor the Dammed had a nice ring.
>we hear a rustling nearby. Something approaches the fire from the treeline.
>it's the dwarf. He asks what I'm doing, then sees the man, and his eyes go wide. I could practically see his scarlet beard bristle with confusion, anger, and fear as he asked of what treachery he came across.
>the man smote him with something dark. I wasn't sure what happened, but the desiccated husk the dwarf left practically called to me.
>we left the forest later as well as the town. He said we had to find others that would come to the fold.
>he gave me food, and clothes, and shoes. They were warm. He feels like an agent of darkness, but as we traveled he asked little of me. I didn't doubt the benevolence of this stranger.
>we have been between many small villages. He would target the small ones in western Darrowmere that had the most despotic and tight-fisted barons and lords. Many people joined us.
>when I sleep the words grow clearer. I hear a voice that I am compelled to obey. It thunders like the sound of cannon fire with a resonance that I could feel in my breast. I no longer have trouble sleeping.
>the old man tells me his name is Kel'Thuzad. It's not a name I've ever heard, but I'm a beggar that was the son of poor cobbler, so what do I know?
>we now have 6 followers. Some refused to drink, and so they were killed. Others drank willingly. Many were poor or desperate like me, but he says we have enough to begin our new utopia. I am filled with hope that He will protect us.

Cont.

>we meet with a noble. His name is Barov. The man is well in his age. The old man shows him things with his magic, whispers of power, of immortality. Barov seems to ruminate before asking how he can earn this.
>the old man asks to use the crypts and catacombs that sprawl beneath his home as a hideaway for his flock. Barov accepts. The old man offers him a goblet of the dark ichor, and Barov drinks. Now he can hear Him too.
>the next months we are living in the crypts. It is cold, and very little light finds its way down here, as if the dark halls hungrily devour it. The old man is teaching us magic, dark magic. He wants us to bring the dead to walk again. He has taught me to read, and to write. I rarely sleep now, but as I learn the voice grows clearer. It urges me to hone my craft.
>my mortal coil relents, but my mind pushes forward. The other acolytes struggle to maintain skeletons, but I am rapidly exceeding them. I exhausted myself creating a monstrous construct. I named my beast Rattlegore.
>the old man says I have a gift, and shows me new things, different things. I tell him the voice is clear now, and he seems to smile, but I cannot tell.
>I can't recall how long we've been down here, but the old man has taught me much and is confident myself and the others are ready. Another acolyte had shown similar promise like me. She is an elf. Her name is Saerith.

>the old man believes us all to be ready. I cannot remember how long is been, as the days seem to come and go without distinction.
>our mission is to poison much grain and gives us a foul mixture. It has an odor that could make a maggot's stomach turn.
>he speaks to us privately in his quarters and tells us he will not be among us soon, that He has other plans for him.
>we both express grief, for the old man was dear to us, and had uplifted us in ways most couldn't imagine. He assures us he will return in time.
>he gives us gifts. Mine is a staff made a of a charred black wood wrapped in a regal violet with a cloven skull fixed to the top. It felt empowering.
>Saerith receives a curved sword of some sort. I'm not familiar with blades, but she takes to it well.
>the night of the mission comes and goes uneventfully. The grain was fouled, and now we waited.
>the old man, after many weeks, brings us deep in the crypt. He shows us a dark creature meshed together from flesh and bone - an abomination of life to be certain. He showed us what we must do to create them. Other children of our flock took well to corpse-crafting, but I did not. Perhaps this is their calling?
>we left the safety of the crypt again and I accompanied the old man. We went about infecting a town called Brill with the plague - many of the townsfolk rising as shambling corpses.
>a woman and the prince found us, but it was too late. We fled, leaving behind one of the few abominations we had to create a diversion for the two.

>the old man says that our time together will soon draw to a close as myself and the other children travel under the guise of a merchant caravan to the city of Andorhal. I was home.
>Saerith came too. She was getting very good with her sword.
>as more undead rose in the far-off villages in the north, the more that joined our numbers. We were strong.
>we were told to wait there for many days and to avoid the grain, some reveled in the idea of servitude through undeath and consumed breads and beers despite the warnings.
>now the townsfolk are sick. The barbers and clerics think it's a seasonal bug floating about, but we knew better. It was when the city was visited by the prince that our hour started.
>all around the citizenry began to drop dead, rising again as undead to do our bidding. They were an unruly sort, though, and weak. However, they had numbers. The prince stood against the tide, as the culmination of our planning had come to fruition.
>we walked among the undead unmolested as they crashed upon the enemy's shields, and their swords, and their spears. The more that fell, the more that joined us. Our flock set fires and destroyed supplies before the old man urged us to leave. I asked him if this was the last I would see him.
>the old man told us no, and I looked to my sister. Saerith said we should be away, and he went to confront the prince.
>he held well for a man his age, but I saw him fall from atop a hill on the outskirts of the city. My heart sank, but I knew our father would return to us as he said. The voice compelled me to be away.
>We started a pilgrimage to the city of Stratholme and met with a demon there. He was large and said his name was Mal'Ganis. He was nothing like the old man, and was cruel. The voice consoled me, telling me this is a necessary sacrifice.
>Mal'Ganis has slain three of our children out of sheer malice and destruction as we prepare for a siege upon the city. The grain was working.

>the demon waged war on the city of Stratholme, and the voice told me I must take the others and now go into hiding. I did not doubt His wisdom, and I left.
>Saerith was an alchemist in the same town as I. Years went by with the prince missing. I found a wife, and a had a little girl. She is almost two now. I own a farm, and grow wheat.
>It has been long since I heard the voice, but I still see our work in my dreams. I still speak with Saerith about what may come next, and think fondly of the old man.
>The day was cloudy with grey skies that threatened the land with downpour. The hair was heavy and cold, but the fields needed tending, and it was near the time of harvest.
>I reaped the wheat when the voice touched me again. Altogether I could not control my actions. It told me that He is coming for us, and that we must make ready. My actions were not my own as I stiffly trundled into my home and killed my family in cold blood. I was not burdened by this.
>their bodies fed the swine, and what couldn't be eaten was hidden in the neighboring woods.
>many more days passed and Saerith had told me she fouled the well, also hearing the call. A pale horseman rode up the path flanked on either side by misshapen ghouls loping about on all fours. He slew the guards and as if he was wise to our disguises, immediately singled us out. It was the prince.
>Saerith and I were unsure what this meant, but knew it was His doing. We were whisked away to stay with the other children of our flock. Some faces I did not recognize. This was good.
>A demon much like Mal'Ganis looked over us as he waited for others to be gathered, and as we were corralled, he beckoned the prince forward to speak with him. They discussed the old man, our father, and his return. We were eager to serve and to see him once more.

>we traveled back to Andorhal. What was left was a pitiful sight, but it was a bastion of the heretical faith. We provided the prince with wagons, ghouls, and other undead minions to aid him against the paladins.
>he asked of the wagons, and I explained they were to preserve the father's remains on our journey.
>it seems despite being chosen by Him, the prince was ill-informed. The prince inquired further of why we simply could not animate the remains when we acquired them. I informed him we would need a powerful nexus to do so. He seems satisfied with the answer.
>the prince assails one of the last bastions of life left in Darrowmere, and the remains our ours. The Lightbringer was among the dead.
>we now have set our sights on the elven lands far from here. For what reason I could not say, but He tells me to do as the good prince asks.
>mercenaries and others wish to join us, some were not deemed worthy, others I made my personal guard. The dark magics I practice warp my body and weaken me physically.
>As we travel through Darrowmere, He urges me to collect items of power and importance. He had plans for me and my sister.
>We arrive in Quel'thalas, much of our number growing as we carve a path of wanton destruction through the land. One of the mercenaries I have made into my personal guard has shown promise and eagerness to devote himself to Him. This pleases me.
>Our war against the elves is difficult. They are a stubborn and proud folk, but a mighty blow was struck when their Ranger General met the prince in single combat. She fell and was made to join us.

>we now stand moments from the invasion of the elven capital.
>their countryside is in flames and riddled with death.
>their holdings have succumbed to us, their people our succors.
>He tells me my time of ascension was now. I go now to find my sister and bring her with me to meet the prince within the Necropolis.
>The prince tells me that He has chosen us to rise above our mortal coils and serve Him as powerful undead. A bright violet circle of sinister magic lights the chamber we stand in, and with his sword, ushers us forward.
>We stand in the circle and he urges me to use the items I had gathered as instructed. They created a foul tonic as a catalyst for this magic
>I produce the flask and the prince tells me to find an item, any item, to bind myself to. It would forever be the vessel of my rebirth. He tells me I must always guard it, lest I become mortal once again.
>I choose my staff, and Saerith her sword.
>We drink the fluid and the prince runs us both through. The pain was unimaginable, but as death closes in I am not afraid.
>I'm not sure what came after, but my form felt like nothing I had ever felt. Power and magic were part of my every fiber. My hands were like bone and my form an icy death. My sister shared in my fate.
>we reveled in our new forms. I took my staff and called forward the eager mercenary.
>I had taught him all I knew, and he proved a worthy combatant and servant of Him. It was now his duty to train a new generation of our kind like the father did me, and I did him.
>I was Diodor the Damned, headmaster no longer. Now, a lich.
>I bestowed upon him the staff and sent him back to the ruins of House Barov, crowning him the new Headmaster and the staff his charge.
>Silvermoon reeled beneath us.

After that the DM had school and fell into a pretty shitty depression. I haven't heard from him in a year and a half.

Gonna go make food. See you fa/tg/uys later.

Sorry if it wasn't the ending you were hoping for, user.

The funny thing about Ghost is how hardcore kvlt they look and how much they aren't.

The ending was more than fine, you have a conclusion. You ascended to lichdom and fucked up the elves. Good ending IMO

This looks cool, what is it from?

Yeah, I was most shocked by the vocals the first time I heard them. It's almost teen-y sounding.

I also feel like they're being tongue in cheek about the whole Satanism thing. They just feel intentionally campy a lot.