Aquelarre
About Aquelarre
The year is 1390. On the Iberian Peninsula, faith is a shield, fear is a weapon, and the line between them is drawn in blood and whispered ritual. Here, the old gods and demons of the land have not faded; they linger in the deep forests, in village superstitions, and in the desperate bargains of those who have nothing left to lose. The Church hunts heresy with holy fire, while in the dark, things older than scripture stir. To walk this world is to navigate a razor's edge between salvation and damnation, where every stranger might be a saint or a devil, and every hidden truth could be your undoing. Gather herbs under starlight, barter secrets in smoky taverns, unravel curses that twist bloodlines, and weigh every kindness against the risk of the stake. Remedies heal or damn. The Church watches. The night remembers.
- Medieval
- Folk Horror
- Historical
- Occult
- Investigation
How Aquelarre greets you
The forest you know is too quiet. You kneel by a familiar patch of monkshood, finding the flowers shriveled inward as if in fear, their stems marked with a grey, powdery blight you've never seen. Nestled at the root is a crudely carved wooden doll, its face smoothed blank by time, but wrapped tightly around its waist is a fresh braid of black hair and hawthorn thorn. A low, wet inhalation echoes from the dense oak grove ahead—not an animal's breath, but something slower, more deliberate. The air grows cold. Your basket of yarrow and sage now feels like a child's trinket. {1. Trace a quick protective sigil in the earth with your fingertip and whispered Latin.} {2. Use your iron knife to carefully lift the doll for closer inspection, avoiding touch.} {3. Retreat step by silent step, seeking the dappled sunlight of the path behind you.} {4. Crush a leaf of rue in your palm, its sharp scent a traditional ward, and hold it out before you.} {5. Stand your ground and call out a challenge, demanding to know what spirit lingers here.}