40 Acres and a Citadel

In most Necropoli, The Order and the Freewraiths hold the most territory between the two of them. Some say this is mostly because the two Concords hold one another in such disdain, and have designs on one another's holdings. Therefore, they play the Game of Houses for keeps, knowing that any sign of weakness shown to the enemy is just the excuse they're looking for.

There are times that the Believers form the third major player in the Game of Houses, depending on their relationship with either The Order or the Freewraiths. If they count one or the other as a strong ally, they tend to stay out of it as much as possible. If they get no respect from either side, however, they do what they must to survive.

The Haunters and Messengers often eke out small parcels of area for themselves. The difference is that, while the Haunters claim territory and stay there - and keep outsiders out with a vengeance - the Messengers use their Domain as a "home base" of sorts. {Some Haunters do this as well, it should be pointed out.}

As for the Pardoners, they do not play the Game. They have no time for it, and no patience for any who would force it upon them.

 

The Lay of the Land

The Order, who are sticklers about keeping their Domains right and proper, aim to maintain an "ideal" Domain.

Such a Domain would have its Citadel right in its center - and very close to the entrance to the Catacombs - with an even distribution of strong, well-defended Haunts around its edges. A fair number of smaller, but still potent, Haunts would be in the areas inbetween. And the boundaries of the Domain would be marked with special signs, known as Terms, every so often.

Needless to say, this is not always achievable, even for The Order. Many Domains are top-heavy or lopsided affairs, while others look like highly-gerrymandered political districts of the Living, with narrow corridors going around dangerous territory or recently-annexed Haunts.

Terms of Separation

The ancient, Roman custom of marking one's property by putting down small statuettes - known as Terms - at the boundary corners has been retained by most of the Concords. These decorations may seem something of a wasteful extravagance to some, but they also spare Wraiths from the ignominy, and possible danger, of walking into the wrong part of town. They also add a certain level of intimidation, much like a sign saying Keep Out! does for the Living.

Terms can be functional as well. Some of them are able to verbally challenge those Wraiths unknown to them, or start up a terrifying shriek that can be heard for blocks if they're not told the password. Others act as the eyes and ears of the Concord, giving a reckoning of who's passed into and out of their territory, or keeping a lookout for a particular Wraith. The really fancy models provide constant visual input, requiring teams of Wraiths to sit in the Citadel doing "monitor duty," but these require too much Essence to maintain for long periods of time.

The Order's Terms tend to be long "stones" made of Corpus, with the Hammer of Charun inscribed upon them in bas-relief. The eyes in the skull of the hammer blaze a fiery red by day, and an eerie green by night.

The Believers' Terms are often made to resemble tokens of their faith, such as Crosses, icons, protective sigils, verses or the like. A more ecumenical Term would be a goblet with the image of a holy light - or star - floating above it, which provides illumination of their borders at night.

The Freewraiths, meanwhile, often make their Terms out of Wraiths who have displeased them. These unfortunate souls are fixed into tortured positions, with the list of their crimes written upon them. And their skulls are set "alight," so that they can be seen both night and day.

Those are the Terms that can be seen. The Messengers rely on their mastery of the Regis Numen to keep others outside of their territory - erecting emotional "stop signs" every so often. The Haunters do much the same with Fear, though they're also known to make very baroque and frightening Terms out of the pieces of those who came in, anyway...

 

Oversaturation

Another problem with the "ideal" is the Injunction, or at least The Order's overzealous interpretation of it.

As The Order sees it, having too many Haunts in one area goes against their prohibition against interfering with the Living. While the emotions of mortals provide meat and drink for the Dead, they have to have some respite from being frightened out of their wits. To ignore this is to risk driving the living mad, or to an early grave - doing the Damned's work for them, or creating more Ghosts to look after.

The Order is also very keen to avoid problems with mortal ghost-hunters. Psychics, Projectors and other superstitious busybodies may notice the strong Echoes in more than one location, and start to connect the dots. And while the Concord might be able to repel an attack on a Haunt from another Concord, getting rid of a mob of spiritualists intent on "purifying" the house is another matter entirely - especially if they can't be killed.

The Believers tend to follow the lead of The Order on this one. And while the Freewraiths could care less about the Injunction - they have their own laws, thank you - they can also see the wisdom of maintaining as discreet a profile as possible. Meanwhile, the Messengers are all about being witnessed by the living, but prefer to do so while being some distance from their own Anchors, so as to avoid being mobbed by the faithful, or targeted by the jealous.

... But Then, There's the Haunters

So how is it that we can drag an entire section of town down into the dirt of death with us, and not worry so much about it? That is an excellent question, little ghost. Here is my answer...

Do you see the old woman in our front room? That stinking, incontinent wrinkle in the easy chair, before the television? You might ask how could she live here, in this house, with an entire Circle of Haunters? Surely she would have run away ages ago? And surely the rest of the Meat in this part of town would have joined her...?

But, you see, she can't.

She's stuck here, little ghost. She has nowhere else to go. There's too much money involved in moving, and too much money involved in going to that rest home. Her children have abandoned her, her husband rots in the boneyard, and everyone around her is afraid to know her because at some point, she's going to die, and then they'll feel obligated to do something for her.

Do you see what pathetic little things they are, now? Islands of humanity, lost in the crowds and kept separate from one another by fear. They'll talk to complete strangers for hours on the internet but don't dare get to know their own neighbors.

So we don't have to "tone it down," here, little ghost. We don't have to worry about being discovered. They know we're here, and they don't dare antagonize us because there's nowhere for them to run to.

And if they decide to try... well, an example needs to be made every so often. Especially when we need some recruits.

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