Wasteland (MTAs)

It is ''useless, useless, said the Philosopher. Life is I useless, all useless. ''

-Ecclesiastes 1 :2, Good News Bible 

There are wounds that time does not heal; we just learn to live with the scars. Many of us have well-scarred souls, and we seem to take pleasure in showing off our pain at parties and gatherings to attract  attention. Others of us hide away from it and deny its existence. Either way, the pain stays with us. The Wasteland is a place of healing, a Realm where victims and victimizers can confront their actions and their guilt. In this region, pain is real, fresh and new. It cannot hide from you, and you cannot escape its touch. In the Wasteland, the soul that can't let go and forgive itself can pay the ultimate price, yet still come out on the other side. There is no path to the Wasteland. Those who hide agonies in their hearts will stumble into the Realm eventually. The Wasteland opens itself to the scarred and long-suffering. Death is the only way out of its embrace.

Description 

Most travelers who fall into the Wasteland don't see much of the scenery. What little they do see, isn't worth looking at. The Realm consists of muddy hills with dirty vegetation, old trees, vines, lots of undergrowth, and an eternal cold drizzle. Half-buried bones jut from the mud, marking the tops of mass graves. Overhead, a queasy dark cloud of smoke taints everything with the stench of burned flesh. Some travelers have walked through a parched desert, but they say the smell is even worse in that part of the Realm. Any group which enters is separated; each must deal with her pain alone. An explorer may shout, scream or even call out magickally to others, but every person in the Realm perceives herself as totally alone. Until the visions come... In time, the traveler who wanders through the Wasteland sees mirages forming around her. As she watches in sick fascination, phantoms replay atrocities from around the world, both large and small genocides, mass rapes, child killings, mass destruction, even the end of the world. No matter what she does, these phantoms ignore her, although some other Awakened creatures, such as the Garou, claim they can interact with the participants. The traveler is in trouble when haze or steam forms her own soul, into something in her own life she hasn't yet come to terms with. She may be the victim, still wondering where to place the blame for her early sexual abuse; she may be the victimizer, still agonizing over the death of an innocent or an enemy. Whatever its cause may be, the incident comes alive again in the Wasteland.

What happens, and how it happens, depends upon the traveler. Only two things are certain: she won't be able to control her magick, and by the end of the scene, she will die. She may be killed in retribution for her action, or she may sacrifice herself to protect another. Once she dies, she leaves the Wasteland, and reappears in the Umbral mist. The pain of her death and experiences may linger with her for a while, but the deeper pain, the agony of that unhealed wound, will still itself in time.

Background

Most mages believe that their Avatars lead them to the Wasteland when there's some conflict which must be resolved. After a few failed Seekings or internal arguments, the inner self basically grabs the Umbral explorer by her proverbial lapels and drags her into this unhealed scar, where she can't leave until she confronts the problem. Once some accord is reached -and it's often a painful one, so be warned -the conflict often works itself out and the healing begins. From there, the Path to Ascension becomes a bit easier.

The Garou I've spoken to claim the Wasteland, or Atrocity Realm, is a creation of the obscenities humanity inflicts upon itself. If that's true, there's even more we can learn there, lessons that go beyond our own limited sphere of experience and reach out on a more global level.

When I last entered the Wasteland -and I hope never to return, trust me -I saw visions of the early Ascension War, of a long battle between Hermetic wizards and a group of Christian mages bent on burning them for witchcraft. It's easy to see how you could say these early Choristers were in the wrong, but watching the shadow-play, I was struck by how arrogant and careless the wizards themselves were. They sacrificed grogs and peasants to fuel their magicks, and tossed around spells that upset the ecological balance, causing earthquakes and thunderstorms as if those events affected no one except their enemies. I understood then something I hadn't grasped before: We all set things in motion that no one can control. Those things usually come back to haunt us later, and if we're not careful what we do, or how, those events may bring disasters we never want to face. Sure, it's no fun to second-guess yourself, especially where magick is concerned, but the price we pay creates a wasteland not in the Umbra, but on Earth.