Visceratika

Visceratika is the Discipline of stone made flesh and flesh made stone. Exclusive to the Gargoyle bloodline, it draws on the same materials as the body from which you were built: earth, rock, concrete, brick, and the structures that humans raise from them. Where other Disciplines borrow from the Beast or bend the mind, Visceratika is physical and blunt. You reshape yourself or the world around you, and when neither works, you rip a chunk out of a building and sling it at somebody you don't like.

Visceratika's core identity is defense in depth. The Gargoyle's stone skin provides natural armor that thickens and hardens as your Blood Potency grows, and higher-level Powers add further layers on top of that: converting lethal wounds into ones your body shrugs off, sheer immunity to fire (your skin is rock so flames are a cosmetic issue at worst), and eventually making piercing weapons nearly useless against your might. Each layer stacks with the ones beneath it.

Every Visceratika Power is a Masquerade risk if witnessed by mortals. You are a 7-to-9-foot-tall stone creature with wings, horns, and fangs. Plan accordingly.

Flight (Discipline Perk)¶

You have wings and can fly. No roll is required for basic flight; you take off, maneuver, and land freely. In flight, your Movement takes you between two Range bands per turn instead of one.

You can carry a number of willing passengers equal to your Blood Potency, or half your Blood Potency (rounded down, minimum 1) if they're unwilling. Sizeable inanimate payloads (furniture, rubble, a motorcycle, a huge mesh bag full of fresh artichokes, etc.) are reasonable asks but at the Storyteller's discretion.

Level 1¶

Skin of the Chameleon (Passive)¶

Your stone skin automatically shifts to match your surroundings: granite grey with moss on a rooftop, ruddy brick against a tenement, dark and cloudy against the night sky.

When you Slip Away while perched on architecture, posing as a statue, or flying at night, treat a roll of 6- as a 7–9. Observers who aren't actively searching for you assume you're part of the scenery.

Sentinel's Perch (Passive)¶

While touching stone, earth, concrete, or brick, you feel vibrations through the surface such as footsteps, doors opening, heartbeats pressed against walls, or the tapping of a keyboard. You can detect the presence and approximate location of any creature moving within Close Range inside the structure without rolling.

If you also have Skin of the Chameleon and remain perfectly still, your awareness expands to encompass the entire structure you're touching, regardless of its size.

Level 2¶

Armor Terra (Passive)¶

Your stone skin thickens and hardens beyond its natural state. Each scene, you may convert up to 2× your Blood Potency in incoming Aggravated Harm to Superficial Harm. Additionally, you become completely immune to fire — flames lick harmlessly across your stony surface, though prolonged exposure leaves visible charring and scorching on your body until you next slumber, and will disrupt any local foliage you've been cultivating.

Rend and Hurl¶

When you sink your claws into a building or the ground and tear a chunk out, you can hurl it at a target within Close Range. Make a Hunger Check and roll +Blood.

On a 10+, the impact is devastating. Inflict Harm equal to 2× your Blood stat and choose 1:

The target is knocked off their feet and loses their whole next turn as they recover
The projectile smashes through whatever's behind them (cover, furniture, a wall)
The debris scatters; all creatures within Hand Range from the target take 2 Harm

On a 7–9, inflict Harm as above and choose 1 from the list, but the effort roots you in place. You cannot use Movement, Slip Away, or Reposition on your next turn.

On a 6-, the material crumbles apart in your hands or mid-throw. The target takes 1 Superficial Harm from flying fragments, and the debris creates an environmental hazard (rubble, dust cloud, unstable footing or ceiling, broken glass) that the Storyteller defines.

Level 3¶

Clay Body¶

When you reshape your normally firm body to adapt to a situation, make a Hunger Check and roll +Blood.

On a 10+, your stone flesh flows like wet clay. Describe your transformation to the Storyteller: extend your reach, widen your wingspan, compress your frame to fit through gaps, grow additional gripping surfaces, whatever your situation demands. The Storyteller should be lenient with what you can accomplish; the only real limits are your mass and imagination. The change lasts until the end of the scene, then reverts. Take +1 Forward on the next roll that directly benefits from your new form.

On a 7–9, the reshaping works, but the Storyteller chooses 1 complication:

The transformation is imprecise; it does what you wanted, but not exactly how you pictured it
The reshaping is painful; take 1 Aggravated Harm (ignore Armor) as your bones crack and reform
Part of your body resists, limiting the change's usefulness in an unexpected/inconvenient way

On a 6-, your body starts to shift but locks mid-transformation. You're stuck in a partially altered state until the end of the scene. The Storyteller describes the complication and you describe how gnarly you look.

Shape the Edifice¶

When you press your hands against stone, concrete, or brick and will it to reshape, make a Hunger Check and roll +Resolve.

On a 10+, the material obeys. You can reshape, open, seal, or restructure an area of material roughly the size of a double doorway. Larger alterations may require additional time or multiple uses. These changes are permanent. Someone will need tools, explosives, or their own supernatural abilities to undo your work.

On a 7–9, the reshaping works, but the Storyteller chooses 1 complication:

The change is structurally unsound; it'll hold for now, but not forever
The effort takes longer than expected, leaving you exposed
The surrounding structure groans and shifts; something nearby cracks, falls, or loosens

On a 6-, the stone resists or responds unpredictably. The Storyteller decides what happens: the wall collapses the wrong way, the floor gives out beneath you, the ceiling caves in, the sound of tortured masonry attracts immediate attention, or similar.

Level 4¶

Flow Through the Mountain¶

When you press yourself into earth, stone, concrete, or brick and let it swallow you, make a Hunger Check and roll +Shadow.

On a 10+, you sink into the surface and can move through it at your usual pace for the rest of the scene. A visible ripple traces your path across the surface as you pass. You can emerge from any connected stone surface at will. While merged, you're aware of your immediate surroundings and immune to physical attacks.

On a 7–9, you merge and can move through stone, but the Storyteller chooses 1 complication:

Your ripple is very obvious; anyone watching the surface can track you clearly
Emerging is rough; you take 1 Superficial Harm (ignore Armor) each time you tear free from the stone
The substrate is resistant; your movement is half as fast as expected

On a 6-, you partially merge and get stuck. You need help or a subsequent roll as before to extract yourself, and you're vulnerable while embedded.

The Rock Within (Passive)¶

Your innards have petrified, and yes, it feels weird. Piercing and puncturing weapons (bullets, knives, arrows, stakes) deal half Harm to you (round down, minimum 1). Staking you is near-impossible — any attempt to stake you automatically fails unless you're already at 0 HP and they have enough time to get the appropriate tools.

Lurking Grotesque¶

When you blend or meld into a stone surface and lie in wait for prey, make a Hunger Check and roll +Shadow.

On a 10+, you merge with the surface completely. You become invisible, silent, and undetectable by mundane means. You can remain merged indefinitely as long as you don't move. When a target comes within Hand Range, you erupt from the undisturbed surface in a flurry. Your next Dirty Your Claws is treated as an automatic 12+, and the target must immediately Stay Chill or freeze in terror.

On a 7–9, you merge, but the Storyteller chooses 1 complication before your ambush triggers:

Your outline is faintly visible in the stone; perceptive targets might notice something's off
The surface sheds dust or shifts uneasily, making quiet creaking or groaning noise
You can only remain merged for a limited time before the stone begins to reject you

Your ambush still triggers as above when a target comes within Hand Range.

On a 6-, you don't merge properly. You're partially embedded and your position is obvious. Somebody is definitely going to notice you, but you might not realize you're showing. It could be anyone with a reason to be there, even your intended target.

Level 5¶

Dark Statue (Passive)¶

While perfectly still and in contact with stone or earth, you are completely immune to both sunlight and fire. Your body shifts into the same material as your chosen spot, and your mind becomes unreachable. No supernatural Power can detect your thoughts, read your emotions, or locate you through mental means. This lasts as long as you remain motionless. Moving, speaking, or taking any action ends the effect immediately.

Stone Legion¶

When you call upon the memory of your kin and the stone answers, make a Hunger Check and roll +Resolve with Advantage.

On a 10+, the architecture comes alive. Statues step from pedestals, pillars crack free and lumber forward, nearby gargoyles and grotesques spread their wings. A number of stone constructs equal to your Blood Potency animate and fight alongside you for the rest of the scene. They act together immediately after you in Initiative, share your stats, but can only attack as per an unarmed Dirty Your Claws.

You have no direct control over their actions, but they always act in your defense and that of your Coterie, echoing the Gargoyle uprising of centuries past. When the scene ends, they return to their positions and freeze. Works best in urban environments, but even raw stone, rubble, or gravel can animate in a pinch.

On a 7–9, the stone answers reluctantly. Half as many constructs animate (minimum 1), and the Storyteller chooses 1 complication:

The constructs are sluggish and brittle; they can absorb hits but deal little Harm
One construct is unstable and may collapse at a dramatic moment
The awakening causes significant structural damage to the building or surface they came from

On a 6-, the stone stirs but respectfully refuses your call to action. The architecture shifts and groans — rubble falls, walls crack, surfaces become unstable — but nothing animates to aid in your cause (this time). The Storyteller makes a Move with the collapsing environment.