There is something living inbetween each second and within the forests of Essex. A groquesque squirmous grub, grown fat on human life. Once she was called a goddess. Now she has many titles: Goddess, spirit, great power. Under any name she is dangerous, cruel, and enormously powerful. Yet she is a slave to her nature, and through her nature she was bound in chains of treaties, promises and agreements. Who forged these chains?
For generations a family of farmers had leased their lands to a freehold of changelings, they kept visitors and ramblers away from the secretive fair folk. For honouring their contract they were rewarded with good health and bountiful harvests. When the farm and burgs alike were to be flooded for a new reservoir, and when honest workmen were struck down by curses and ill fortune. Who was brought in to mediate, and who forged a new agreement that was beneficial to all?
When a senseless act of murder and a witch's dying curse blanketed a Lancaster town with ill fortune until the jobs closed and the dole lines stretched for streets. Who noticed the signs, who learned the names and natures of each power supporting the curse, and who appeased those powers one by one until the curse was lifted?
Near the border between England and Whales lies a garden. It is a peaceful and tranquil place, hidden from the world by a rough hewn stone wall it rests in a perpetual dew dusted dawn. At it's very heart a natural spring feeds a series of wells that were built before the Romans. Magic flows into and from these wells, their health governs the balance of magic for much of the region. Who could be trusted to keep this garden for the public good, unswayed by greed or favouritism.
Every seven years a faerie queen steals a man from Selkirk to tithe to hell. She favours her victims young, with musical talent and a name that sounds like Tom. It is an old story, and one often told. The narrative is strict and the rules are clear. Tom can be saved. So who is it that trains brave women to play the other role, to rescue this cycles sacrifice from the faerie queen before he is condemned into hell? [Just for the hell of it; these are all inspired by Dinna Wynne Jones books. In order: The Time of the Ghost, Power of Three, Power of Three, The Merlin Conspiracy and Fire and Hemlock. Her style and some of her subject matter fit the Stewards quite well (though not as well as either Rivers of London or Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell) though DWJ characters are way above the Stewards on the raw magic power level. Plus DWJ is just an all round amazing writer who's books I adore.]
If you look behind the comfortably mundane, the world is a far stranger place than people realise. The trees we walk by every day, the clouds we hope wont rain on us, even the buildings we live in, they're all alive. It's not life as we would recognise it, but it is life. If you look into the shadows we share the world with more than we realise, there are Vampires infecting society, Werewolves in the forests, Faeries living under the hill.
It would be nice to pretend that they didn't exist, that humanity sat alone and unchallenged gazing over his dominion of the Earth. It would be nice, but foolish. Somebody has to sit down and discuss how we're all, human, monster and the land itself, going to live together because if we don't. In war nobody ever wins.
The Lord Stewards take this task upon themselves. Their job is simple: Keep the peace. Originally they kept the peace between the land and it's inhabitants: They bribed the rivers not to flood, paid the fields for the bounty of the harvest and negotiated with the hills. Now their remit has expanded and the Stewards must keep the peace between people of all species. There is an outrageous amount of champagne and vol-au-vents involved.
And if you were to ask what gives the Stewards the right to negotiate on behalf of the public they'll tell you that they are public servants. They are part of her Her Majesty's democratically elected government and that gives them the right, and duty, to govern the nation's supernatural affairs.
History[]
Who pays the fields? Who bargains with the great powers? Who talks peace with the monsters?
If you asked long ago the answer would have been everyone. Long before man claimed dominion over the lands, before electricity and gunpowder, before effective transportation or communication, the world was much more dangerous than the one we know today. Danger lurked in every shadow, and not just from monsters. Famine and diseases were an ever present threat. To survive kings, villages and families formed pacts and alliances with the lands they lived upon. They paid the fields for bountiful harvests, they sought allies to guard against pestilence and against the monsters lurking in the shadows.
In return the people held festivals in honour of their allies, they offered gifts and followed codes of behaviour. Payment for services rendered. Families, village councils and even kings knew the treaties and pacts that protected them, and what they must do to uphold and preserve those treaties.
Times changed, as the years turned old threats ended and the protections against them faded into irrelevance. Pacts turned from well understood contracts into folklore and superstitions. Once honoured treaties were only casually upheld or broken entirely. The consequences were subtle, but severe as broken pacts resulted in penalty clauses. The rats were gone, but the piper must still be paid.
It was Doctor John Dee, court magician, [While I'm intentionally not going to make it cannon; in my personal WoD John Dee was a Ceremonial Magician from Second Sight. To me it's important that John Dee was not an Awakened, he should be on the power level and philosophical level of a Hunter, and Thamaturges are mortals with less power than most Tier 3 Endowments. I'd make a comment about times changing, but even in the early days most members favoured the Hedge Witch style.] philosopher and spy to Queen Elizabeth I who noticed the problem, and foresaw the potential catastrophe. In the year 1560 He advised his liege to bestow upon him a royal charter, naming him the steward entrusted to manage the royal affairs on matters relating to treaties with the land. Before it was too late.
The proposition was accepted. With his new charter and position John Dee toured the land. Wherever he travelled he questioned the people about their folklore and he observed their customs and superstitions. As a skilled magician John Dee was eminently qualified to sift through folklore looking for forgotten occult bargains and contracts. His personal library at Mortlake was soon filled with the records of his discoveries.
Everywhere he uncovered old pacts John Dee selected trustworthy local men and invested them with the Queen's authority, and the duty to uphold the pacts in her majesty's name. But he also made a second discovery. John Dee was far from the only magician working to preserve the treaties. Most of John Dee's counterparts were very different in character from himself, they were born far from wealth and the royal court and they used a practical earthy tradition of magic which centred on their community and the land around them [Hedge Witches]. Through these bonds they had seen the threats of broken pacts and taken it upon themselves to uphold the bargains for the good of their local communities. Many of these witches and warlocks were fiercely independent, but enough saw that their talents were desperately needed and so they agreed to join in service to the crown.
The practitioners recruited by John Dee took on his work: travelling, recording treaties, and appointing Stewards to maintain the pacts. By the weight of royal authority and good old fashioned hard work the basic structure of the Lord Stewards was formed: Local residents employed by the crown to uphold the pacts, supported by travelling magicians who went where their talents were needed, all managed from a central location which archived the old treaties.
Dr John Dee did his work well, under his leadership the Stewards thrived. They fulfilled their royal duties admirably, but his tenure eventually came to an end. And though John Dee's successor ran the Stewards competently he lacked the genius of the Steward's founder. To compensate for the lack of John Dee's leadership the Stewards turned to what they knew best; pacts and alliances. The Stewards had always made casual use of any benefits they qualified for, but now they made it official policy. They searched through their libraries for useful treaties and spread the methods of their use across the organisation. When they couldn't get what they needed from existing Arrangements they simply signed some new ones. The system would suffice for a good three centuries.
Joining the Service[]
The industrial revolution hit the Stewards hard, an organisation that by it's very nature focuses upon the past will always have trouble adapting to a changing environment. A minority of Stewards believed that they were truly living in the last days of magic, and they should allow themselves to fade gracefully as science and technology rose. Most felt that abandoning the pacts now would be just as dangerous as it would have been during the reign of Queen Elizabeth but even they were divided into those who believed they could, must, adapt and those who felt a successor would arise. Central to the argument was the fact that the Stewards own royal charter was soon to expire. Though the charter was not in itself magical, for a group who's lives revolved around treaties this was a grave omen indeed.
Though the Stewards debated their future, the decision was to come from far outside their organisation. In 1860, three hundred years after their founding, representatives of the Lord Stewards were summoned before Parliament to explain the nature of their work. There they met with a nearly empty chamber, only a few backbenchers were in attendance. It was hardly a sight to inspire hope, but barely a month had passed before the Stewards were called back and presented with an updated charter attached to a wide reaching plan to modernise the organisation.
In an era of social upheaval relying on local citizens across the realm was no longer feasible. Instead the Stewards were to restructure their magical practitioners from a support and oversight role into the front line. A campaign of aggressive recruitment and training would be implemented to build the necessary numbers. Modern transport would allow a members to cover a larger area than ever before, personally seeing to each treaty.
If the plans to modernise were ambitious, the plans to expand the Stewards' remit were nothing short of radical. Urbanisation had an enormous impact on the monsters living in the shadows, as faeries, werewolves, witches and who knew what else were forced into closer proximity tensions were building. The threat of all out supernatural war was looming and the consequences would be dire for everyone. War had to be prevented, and Sir Robert Peel had shown that heavy handed tactics could only go so far. If a lasting peace was to be obtained somebody would have to talk to the monsters and remind them why it was in their best interests to play by civilised rules. As the only officers of the crown who had experience at negotiating with non-human intelligence, the Stewards were just the people to do it.
Modernising and expanding a, to put it politely, traditionalist organisation would require skilled organisation and management. To that end the Stewards were to be brought into the recently formed Civil Service. There they would benefit from working with people who had experience in governance, and the government would benefit from being able to negotiate with the land for assistance in implementing their latest policies.
Even to this day the Stewards wonder who was behind this radical plan. There is some evidence that a trusted advisor to Queen Victoria was responsible, but the evidence is contradictory and can't even agree which advisor it was. [Shout out to Victorian lost; which says some people suspect a Mirrorskin changeling replaced one of Queen Victoria's advisors. I could see a Changeling noticing that somebody is maintaining the old anti-fae pacts and wanting to keep them funded. Though my personal opinion is that John Dee is responsible.] The Stewards did have their supporters in parliament, mostly from rural constituencies, but none of them have claimed credit. The Office's continued existence is protected by subtle enchantments, though the Stewards know very well that those Arrangements were created after the reforms some wonder if John Dee might have had the same idea all those years ago. There's no record of him doing so but the Stewards have to admit, it does sound like the sort of thing he would do.
Personnel[]
A Lord Steward needs to possess two skills. She must be educated in occult principles and she must know the give and take of diplomacy and law, whether she is to negotiate with members of the occult community, in the courtroom, or with the land itself. The Stewards are always glad to offer a position to an occultist who has been trained to bargain with otherworldy beings or Oxbridge graduates with the proper extra-curricular education (it's amazing what you can learn in the right drinking clubs at the really old universities) [Shout out to Rivers of London, one of the Stewards major inspirations].
The problem is, there just simply isn't enough people with the necessary skills. The Stewards have to settle for hiring people who are trained occultists or qualified civil servants and train them up. Aside from the odd subject matter the Stewards training looks begins like any other government or corporate training program. However there is really no substitute for experience, so after completing their formal training a Steward can expect to be partnered with an experienced member for a period of apprenticeship. There they will supported as they learn what can only be taught by experience; how to navigate the tangle of supernatural politics and how to make use of the Arrangements outside the safe and stable classroom environment.
With recruitment looking for one of two very different skillets it is unsurprising that Stewards tend to come from one of two very different backgrounds. On the one hand you have the trained civil servants, professionals who grew up in a suit and read serious weighty subjects like law, politics or classics. They were often only dimly aware of the Stewards at best before they were offered a job or transferred. Learning what their job entails is often quite a shock, but they wouldn't have been given a place if somebody didn't think they'd adapt.
Now on the other hand you have the occultists. A hodgepodge of everybody: Tweed wearing academics and gentleman scholars who took the classes not advertised on the university curriculum, urban shaman, people who grew up with not-so-imaginary friends, and of course lots of hedge witches, some of whom have family ties to the Lord Stewards dating back to John Dee himself.
Most occultists who join the Stewards tend to have skills or natural talents that focus on the land itself. Many of them have an even larger culture shock than the civil servants when they start their employment, but the Stewards are patient. The supply of skilled occultists is smaller than the supply of qualified civil servants and they are far more likely to have rare or unique specialities. Taking the time to help them adjust properly is a worthwhile investment.
Sidebar: So I Can Play a Magician?
Well yes. Sir Harold Langley, gentleman magician, is a perfectly valid character concept for a Lord Steward. Playing a magic practitioner is nothing new for a Hunter Conspiracy: The Ascending Ones have alchemists, Les Mysteries are full of witch-doctors, bokrok and just about everything else.
The Lord Stewards usually draw from traditions that have a strong tie to the land: Shamans, aristocratic magicians who know the land and it's ruler really are linked, but mostly hedge witches who not only have magic ties to the land, but who also come from the same thematic root of superstitions and folklore that underlies the Lord Stewards.
However the assumption is that whatever background you play, your abilities will be represented by Arrangements and some of the more esoteric Merits available to hunters. A hedge witch's familiar would be a Retainer combined with Loquere Animalibus. Vox Loci can be used to represent a Shaman's natural connection to the land.
When it comes to the division of labour there is less of a split between the occultists and the civil servants than one might imagine. Most of the non-routine duties performed by the Lord Stewards require both skills: An occultist might know something about what Changelings care about, but a trained diplomat is the one who knows how leverage those desires during negotiations. It's common to see Stewards of both backgrounds working together. As a Steward rises in Status they often begin to acquire traits typical to both backgrounds. A warlock learns how to talk to politicians and look good in a suit. A civil servant is initially shocked to learn that magic exists, but after a few years she's proud to have learned a new skill and adopts habits that come naturally from her knowledge: Once you know that it actually is bad luck to walk under a ladder you stop doing so.
[Image: A middle-aged man wearing a breasted suit with a round head and thinning hair. He has spectacles and stands tall despite his obviously short height. He is heavy, but appears to have rather large arms. A crow sits perched on his right shoulder, looking regal, and a Celtic knot is on his tie. In his hands are various parchments and more modern looking government files, all neatly organized, and an ID hangs from his lapel. Britannia stands behind him, holding her shield and trident.]
It's quite all right...
For the Public Good
Ever since the Office was modernised in 1860 the Lord Stewards have been a part of Her Majesty's Civil Service. During their tenure they have been moved around and reclassified, as has nearly every other department. Today they are part of the Department for Culture, Media and Sport – a rather minor department for what many in the supernatural community consider to be the most, or only, relevant part of government – and have been since 1995 (when it was known as the Department for National Heritage).
Despite their official location the Stewards' responsibility to keep the peace between the nation's supernatural population and occult societies is unofficially part of the Home Office (Unless something goes badly wrong, then it's usually DCMS' fault.) Maintaining the old pacts does fall under the DCMS, or it at least fits there better than anywhere else, with the exception of those Arrangements that were created on the request of another department.
The difficulty of classifying the Stewards into the divisions of regular governance – and their immunity to being divided until they fit – has long since ceased to be frustrating, and is now an accepted eccentricity of the Civil Service. This does not prevent the occasional skirmish over budget, control or assigning blame. Shielding the rank and file from getting sucked into turf wars is an important job for high Status Stewards. Many managers in the Office find that after negotiating with faeries, dealing with Whitehall politics is refreshingly straight forward. To them the Stewards' ambiguous position only makes it easier to avoid red tape.
In general the rest of the Service treats the Stewards an I.T. department or a similar highly technical department. Mostly the other civil servants agree that the Stewards are necessary but have no real idea how their job actually works and don't make much effort to find out. They are prone to underestimate the work required and assume that the Stewards are overstating any problems. When a new government initiative, civil service policy or budget cut rolls around it is often extended onto the Stewards without anyone asking if the Office's unique role should be treated as a special case. Since the answer is quite often “yes” the Stewards management have lots of experience at arguing against appropriate changes or finding clever ways to work around them.
The Stewards' unique expertises may well be enough to keep them safe in the turbulent seas of politics, but with the stakes so high and their job so poorly understood they're glad to have an ace up their sleeve: When the Stewards were restructured during the Victorian Era they put quite a bit of thought into remaking the Office into something sustainable for the long term. To this end crafted subtle enchantments to protect their continued existence.
Simply put the Stewards are impossible to get rid of as a result. When no one's looking they seep into the cracks of the civil service and take root. Their names appear in human resources' files by magic (literally). ID cards and keys arrive in unmarked envelopes. There's nothing so vulgar as mind control but coincidences conspire to prevent anyone questioning their continued existence or implement any policies that would cause too much damage – there's a reason no one managed to split maintaining the Arrangements and diplomacy with the supernatural into separate departments. If anyone asks the Stewards are happy to show the documents that entitle them to do this.
The General Public
Stewards don't think of anyone as the enemy. As they see it everyone's on the same side; everyone wants the same thing and for the most part they're correct. Human, inhuman or true monster; nobody wants to see the country – or just it's supernatural underworld – burnt down in the fires of civil war. The Stewards have kept those fires at bay for centuries; their name gets around, their word carries a lot of weight.
When faced with a threat to the peace the Office relies on diplomacy, negotiations, compromise and when necessary: Shameless bribery. The Stewards tend to be utilitarian, impartial and non-confrontational. They have to be, with so many hunters, occult societies, and all manner of
monsters crammed into a tiny island a single spark of conflict could spread like wildfire across interwoven social networks and through shared resources. Anyone could be that spark: It could be one of the great powers slighted by an unfortunate insult, it could be a single
Vampire who just wants more opportunities to feed, or just as easily the father of that same Vampire's latest victim. In the middle of this are the Stewards, trying to keep the peace.
There is a simple principle that guides everything the Lord Stewards do: The peaceful status qou survives only as long as everyone prefers it to the risk of war. Why would the Hunters agree to a treaty that only protects the monsters and their abuses? Why would the monsters follow the rules of a country that denies their right to survive? Sacrifice one person for the greater good, and you have one person with nothing to loose and everything to gain by sounding the call to arms.
The Fair Folk
The Office has known about the True Fae almost since their founding. Pacts with the Gentry and pacts protecting against the Gentry, often the same pact, were among the most common treaties that the Stewards uncovered. This suggests that the True Fae have been a problem with no answer for a very long time. For the most part the Stewards feel the same as anyone else does about the Gentry: They're powerful, dangerous and a threat to any decent person. Since the early days the Stewards have opposed the Gentry in their own manner, at first they made real progress at slowing the tide by repairing treaties with the True Fae and ending penalty clauses but now the low hanging fruit has been picked, and the Gentry remain. [As someone said in fae fanbook thread. The Elizabethan to Victorian periods were the time faeries changed from terrifying alien beings into Tinkerbelle. I wanted to have at least some reference to this; even if I obviously couldn't actually have anyone defeat the True Fae]
In their archives the Lord Stewards keep records of all manner of alliances and treaties forged for protection against the True Fae's hunts, and as they admit, The Gentry come despite them all. The Stewards believe, well hope really, that these treaties at least slow the number of abductions but there is no proof, and for obvious reasons no body has suggested ending the pacts to see what happens. As a consequence, when the Stewards come across a threat from the Gentry they are more likely to attempt to try and negotiate a contract forbidding it's return then to create wards and
alliances. It's much riskier, but when it works the results are clear.
The pursuit of a long term solution to the True Fae remains the domain of a small minority of self appointed Stewards, nicknamed the Grail Knights (because they are searching for something nigh unfindable, and because by the time they have enough status to get away with spending all their time on a quixotic quest they've usually been knighted). The Grail Knights, and indeed most of the Stewards, believe that the True Fae would be unable to take slaves unless they had made some sort of contract with humanity. If this contract could be found it might point the way to the banishing the Gentry forever. As the name implies, they've had no luck finding the holy grail of ancient contracts.
In contrast to their Keepers, the Stewards quite like Changelings. Indeed they feel a connection to them that goes beyond any other kind of supernatural being. They both live lives that revolve around contracts and pledges. Though a Changeling will twist and warp an agreement they rarely break them, which is more than the Stewards can say about most of the monsters they deal with. What's more the Stewards and the fae both perceive a world where everything is living and draw their powers from pacts with the world around them.
Over the years the Stewards have won the trust of enough Changelings to know about their origins as human abductes, and like most people they feel sympathy for the horrors Changelings endure in Arcadia. As part of the government the Stewards are uniquely positioned to help Changelings return to normal life after their escape. Creating a proper legal identity for Changelings is a small part of the Stewards' duties. The office also maintains a list of therapists and mediators who are willing to help Changelings heal and reconnect with their friends and family.
This does not by any means imply that the Lord Stewards and Changelings have each other on speedial. Like many who have gone through terrible ordeals Changelings carry emotional scars and often find it hard to trust, only a small minority take up the Stewards' offer. For their part the Lord Stewards must remain impartial, and they know that Changelings are crafty and often dangerous. Feelings of companionship must be put aside, for Changelings are always willing to use their shared connection or their tragic backstories to score points in negotiations.
The Fetch occupies a unique place within the thoughts of the Stewards. On the one hand the average Fetch is no where near as bad as some of the monsters a Steward is likely to see across the negotiating table. On the other hand the Fetches were directly created by the True Fae, who are both sinister and incredibly powerful. Mostly though, the Stewards don't think about Fetches at all. Fetches rarely organise, and unless you are a Changeling it is hard to notice a Fetch as anything other than human. When the Stewards do encounter a Fetch they tend to judge it on it's individual merits, as they do with most monsters. The Stewards' offer of referring Changelings and their Fetch's to mediators is rarely accepted, and even considered distasteful by most Changelings.
Other Monsters
The Lord Stewards don't limit their vigil to Faeries. Far from it. Officially the Stewards remit covers any monster that can be negotiated with, and the Stewards' opinion on what can be negotiated with is much broader than most peoples. Unofficially the Stewards do keep note of who simply isn't worth negotiating with: Monsters too alien to reason with, who simply wont keep to their agreements and of course monsters wiling to kill the Stewards. Sometimes they oppose these monsters in their usual manner, they invoke or create pacts and alliances to imprison or ward against the monster. Mostly though, monsters who cannot be negotiated with are left to Hunters among the police, army and those sick fucks at MI18.
Vampires are inherently political creatures who stalk the negotiating table like a wolf eyeing up the weakest deer. A vampire's natural food source is humans, this causes some slight problems for the prospects of peaceful vampire human relations. The Stewards' history with vampires can be seen as a long running battle over who the vampires get to bite. The Stewards would ideally like some system of paid blood donors, the vampires want a free reign. The compromise between these positions shifts over time as the two sides battle it out, but for now both are content to have their battles across the negotiating table. Ironically the vampires' traditions of, and need for, secrecy makes the vampires strong supporters of the Stewards when it comes to keeping the peace. The Stewards avoid accepting their help if they can, for when things are settled you can be sure a vampire will call in the favour.
In contrast werewolves could be described as savage. If they are political, it is the violent insular politics of the animal kingdom: Protect your territory and trust no one but your pack. In many ways Werewolves have very different concerns to humans and the two species could coexist just fine by mostly ignoring each other. The problem is that there just isn't enough space on the island. There's always somebody trying to develop property on a spot sacred to a pack of Werewolves, or a coven of witches competing with Werewolves supernatural resources. The Stewards would like to try and work something out, but there is no “council of elder Werewolves” to negotiate with. Most of the Office's official dealings with Werewolves is damage control when the Stewards are brought in as impartial negotiators after someone's created a conflict.
The Lord Stewards don't think of witches as a group. Because the Stewards are concerned with the misuse of magic, and not the mere use of magic, the Stewards just think of witches as people who happen to know magic. Much like themselves for that matter. So when a Stewards sees a witch, he's more likely to base his assumptions on what magical tradition she practices, or what occult society she belongs to rather than the simple fact that she is a witch. A lot of witches are independent practitioners who simply live their lives, the Stewards rarely need to negotiate and compromise with individual witches. Instead they simply get the present themselves as representatives of the government and ask the witch to agree not to do anything criminal with magic. Larger occult societies are more likely to take a seat at the negotiation table and range from model citizens to hubris blinded sorcerers as bad as any monster. [This write up skews heavily towards Second Sight, Tier 3 Hunters, and the missalanious build-your-own witches in Witch Finders for 3 reasons. Firstly, I think it's more important to fit in with Hunter than Mage for this project. Secondly Thamaturges & Hunter-Witches make it easier to model groups like the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn than Mage. I think lots of individual and interacting groups works best to create the tangled political webs that are fun for players to interact with, and playing with real historical groups (or fictional groups with similar stylings) fits the Lord Stewards themes. Finally, I just plain prefer Second Sight.]
The Stewards also consider Hunter groups, as well as occult societies in general to fall under their remit. At least they do if the group knows enough to be a genuine part of the supernatural community. As with Witches, occult societies and Hunters are just too varied to be described in broad strokes, Stewards usually think of them on the level of the individual organisation.
The Land itself
Since long before they concerned themselves with monsters the Stewards held vigil over ancient treaties with Briton. The land isn't exactly what you'd call tame but it has been inhabited for a long time. Like two neighbours who can't see eye to eye but forced to live with each other the land and it's inhabitants have learned to co-exist.
The Lord Stewards spend just as much time maintaining this peaceful coexistence as they spend maintaining the peace. They perform rituals to honour old alliances, they pay the land for services rendered, and they build relationships. A trained Stewards can talk to just about anything, animals, trees, buildings, the wind. In the grand scheme of things most of these are no more important than any individual human. It will surprise no one to learn that a typical rabbit or potted plant is not a font of occult power. But like people, even if an individual tree is unimportant, collectively they are important indeed. A network of contacts or allies among the trees and forests is a very valuable asset. Some features of the land are individually important: Personages such as the four winds, major rivers, and some that seem deceptively unimportant, wield enormous power and influence.
Much of the Office's remit to maintain peaceful relations with the land are routine; the treaties were signed long ago and the payments are the same year after year. As for the rest, there's always something that keeps the job interesting. Some property development or cultural shift that interferers with a pact, or a request from above to negotiate some new advantage on behalf of the government. It is for this reason that the Stewards build relationships with the land around them. It keeps their fingers on the pulse, and ready to deal with whatever their duties require.
Treaties with the land are more than a duty to the Lord Stewards. They are the source of the Office's magical power, and a great boon to any who keeps the peace. Friendship with the land keeps the air clear, benefits the mortal public, helps ensure there is enough supernatural resources to go around and as they admit only in low voices, the land is even more dangerous than a war.
Hunters
You've had three things in your adult life: Your family, your garden and your service to the Lord Stewards. After a long and distinguished career you're running the department and you take great pride in your position and your accomplishments. However mandatory retirement approaches and in your sunset years you have turned your attention to training a successor.
You were born to a family of Werewolves, and you were not a Werewolf. You were treated worse then dirt, so when the Stewards were invited to witness some contracts you took your chance and stowed away. It turns out you always had the right to leave if you asked, a compromise agreed to on the assumption no one would get the chance to ask. Your family filed suit, several Hunter groups filed counter suit claiming the Werewolves were acting in bad faith. Just before violence erupted it ended with a couple of token cousins being freed and everyone being bribed large amounts to drop the matter. Since you had no where else to go you stayed with the Stewards, now how can you get the rest of your family to safety?
Your grandmother was a hedge witch and determined that you wouldn't grow up wilfully ignorant like your parents. Your parents were equally determined you'd grow up to be a lawyer and a proper member of society like themselves. After you'd graduated The Lord Stewards seemed like a natural career for your skills.
Your ancestors once signed a deal with a vicious Faerie Queen, and the consequences falls upon your head. Ever since you were a child your parents taught you how to uphold your families end of the bargain or else you would be snatched away in an instant. Living by a pact became so normal to you that when a casual acquaintance was taken by the Fae you were shocked to learn he hadn't broken any pact, he didn't even believe in magic. Ever since that day you made it your mission to teach people how to use the traditional protections. When your application to the Stewards went through, it was your job as well.
You were a regional manager at Tesco and you thought this court case was just the usual hippies, anti-capitalists and local groups protesting against a new supermarket. You were surprised to see the civil-service among the plaintiffs but you won the case anyway. The Stewards tried a different angle, they scheduled a meeting and told it to you straight. They needed regular access to the new store so they could get a virgin to dance naked and satisfy an ancient treaty with the hill you were building on. Of course they only said that after introducing you to the hill personally. In for a penny, in for a pound. You were looking for a more challenging career anyway.
You graduated with a double first from Oxford in language and history. When you joined the Civil Service you had hoped to become a diplomat, see the world a little. Unfortunately for you there was an open position with the Lord Stewards and your degree pushed you right into it. When you first saw your new department you thought it was either madness, a joke or possibly a racist sub to keep you from the proper jobs. You don't think that at all any more, but you're still trying to transfer to the Foreign Office.
You were raised by the street and you learned to survive. You weren't tough or dangerous so instead you learned to be smart, to read the signs and to feel danger coming. The street had never felt nearly as dangerous as it did all last week, just as you were thinking of skipping town the Stewards found you. It sounded like a whole lot of mumbo jumbo “natural sensitive”, “especially in-tune with the local area”. What mattered was that they were paying. Cash, half up-front. Afterwords you asked if they might have more where that came from. Turns out they did.
You're a professional administrator, your job is identify and take care of all the logistical and political problems getting in-between the Stewards and doing their job, then remove them. You're a practical sensible woman, the sort of person who always gives the impression of wearing a business suit no matter what you're actually wearing. Which is why your friends outside the Stewards still find it odd that you casually obey all sorts of superstitions, and they would find it really odd if they knew after coming home from the office you relax by talking about your day with your husband, kids, and the family dog.
Stereotypes
Aegis Kai Doru: We have dealings with many occult traditions. The Ageis Kai Doru were always willing to negotiate so long as we had artefacts to offer. In truth we had allowed ourselves to become complacent, as we discovered when a representative arrived to request assistance as per an ancient treaty we had no record of. Quite vexing, but the treaty was legitimate and our hands were tied. In truth the failure of our records worries me far more than the Ageis Kai Doru. Who else do we owe unpaid debts too, and who owes us?
The Union: In this country we are no strangers to firebrand shop-floor activism. When the unions turned their eyes to the Vigil we feared the worst. I admit the Callaghan and Thatcher years were... stressful. Fortunately things have settled down. What they want is to keep their own neighbourhoods safe, and when you know what someone wants you can come to an arrangement.
Cainite Heresy: We know that various groups have been slipping information on Vampire's they want killed to the Cainites. We suspect that some of those groups are other Vampires. That's just how things work around here, when someone breaks the treaties the first thing they do is pin the blame on someone else. Of course who's desk does it all arrive on the next morning?
Long Night: That's the third complaint this week! We told them before, The Racial and Religious Hatred Act forbids harassing: Pagans, Wiccians, Hindus, Druids, Witches, abortion clinics, neo-pagans, Muslims, us, Kemetics, Jews and even Satanists! How did this even end up on my desk? Shouldn't religious hatred be with the Home Office?
Offices
The Office of the Lord Stewards is subdivided into further offices. Each office serves a separate purpose and all work together to preserve the Queen's peace.
The Office of the Wardens de L'île deals directly with the land. They maintain a library of treaties, pledges and agreements made between Britain and it's inhabitants. It is their job to ensure those agreements are honoured whenever it coincides with the public good, and whenever the pledge was made by the Stewards personally. If they loose the respect of the land, they lose the ability to serve. The Wardens de L'île are also in charge of making new Arrangements for the Conspiracy and bargaining for the lands assistance to assist the mundane government.
Free speciality: Occult (Folklore)
Meanwhile The Office of the Marshal of Ceremonies handles diplomacy between people. They try to keep the various factions of Hunters, monsters, and occult societies from descending into war or praying on innocent civilians.
Free Speciality: Persuasion (Negotiations)
The smallest Office is The Office of the Crown's Justice. Officer's of the Crown's Justice work pro bono as lawyers and advocates. While most of the established players are quite happy representing themselves the smallest parties and individuals – especially individuals who were previously ignorant of the supernatural – have no such recourse. The Stewards know that if the smallest parties were considered “too poor for justice” they would loose all stake in fitting into the system and so they assign them advocates.
Free Speciality: Empathy (Clients)
Status
Officially Status within the Office is done on according to purely objective measurements of a Stewards performance assisted by regular career development meetings between a Steward and her manager. Unofficially the idea that there can be an objective measure for performance in such an unusual job is laughable. So the Stewards unofficially-officially supplement the official systems with a mixture of reputation and personal relationships that defines who's really the person to go to for certain topics. Gaining the right reputation increases Status as surely as a promotion. To limit confusion the managers try to game the paperwork to promote the right people, it's helpful but not without problems of it's own.
As part of the government membership of the Stewards grants several advantages such as access to government databases. An ID badge to flash around. Cooperation (but not obedience) from police, local and even national government, most of the time anyway. Higher Status members often have little trouble getting a chance to talk to other high ranking civil servants or government ministers. If a Stewards remembers her skills she is likely to invest in building personal relationships with the people who really get things done.
One thing Status does not do is entitle the Stewards to carry guns. If the Stewards need firepower they are expected to ask for assistance from the police or the army. Stewards who often need firepower are likely to take the time to make personal relationships with one or two squads. When they submit the requisition paperwork their Allies help ease it through their own bureaucracies, often know a useful Arrangement (like Pact of Protection) and allow the Steward to skip past convincing people that the supernatural exists. Such informal arrangements tend to work in reverse (like any use of the Allies merit) as the Steward's Allies call in for advice or help over suspected supernatural occurrences, or to ask a Stewards to facilitate a minor supernatural blessing or warding.
O: As a member of the Stewards you are entrusted with keeping the peace and may claim from your accorded benefits. You may purchase the Endowment Arrangements.
OOO: You have achieved respect and prestige for your dedicated service. If you work in the Office of the Marshal of Ceremonies or the Crown's Justice your job has given you the chance to pick up a few names and faces. You get two dots in the Contacts Merit each applied to a different type of Supernatural being, Hunter group or occult society. They must be living in the United Kingdom on this plane of reality. At this Status members of the Wardens de L'île have a slightly different benefit. They gain the Unseen Sense Merit which enables them to spot any active supernatural effect caused by the land. This includes any use of Arrangements.
Regardless of Office at this level Stewards gain some measure small of respect from the land itself for their services. Generally they are less likely to trip over loose paving stones, touch stinging nettles or get bitten by insects. This might inflict some penalty to make the land attack them but what, if anything, qualifies is up to the Storyteller.
OOOOO: You're mostly in an administrative role now, but sometimes you have to negotiate personally with the political leaders of the supernatural or vast powerful forces. You can command no power, but after a lifetime of service you need only ask; the roads carry your feat swiftly. The buildings form around in your defence. The very stones rise up to crush those who threaten you. Mechanically treat this as the trait Contract with a couple of differences. Firstly the purview is Briton, broader than what is normally aloud. Secondly when make a Contract you don’t (and can’t) make payments to balance the cost. Instead you have +3 to spend (at once or separately) representing the favour you’ve acclimated from a lifetime of service, any spent points refresh at the beginning of the next Story. Finally the Stewards don’t actually gain supernatural abilities, the Dread Powers they ask for represent the land rising to their aid. The mists or shadows gathering to hide the Steward can provide Lurker in Darkness. A Steward’s reflection rising from a still lake and running justifies Scarper. Tendrils will come not from the Steward’s body, but from the forest around her.
Storytelling The Lord Stewards
Portraying the Lord Stewards as heroic protagonists is straightforward. Their goals are to prevent violence and maintain supernatural pacts and treaties for the public good. Their methods are diplomatic. It's not hard to justify the Stewards as having a positive effect on the average man.
The three offices of the Lord Stewards exist to let you and the players decide what sort of story do you want to tell. If you want to play a game of folklorists uncovering ancient treaties, performing rituals, and bargaining with the land itself then join the Wardens de L'île. The Marshal of Ceremonies lets you play a game of diplomats and negotiators engaging in realpolitik with the varied and often dangerous characters inhabiting the shadows of the World of Darkness. Finally playing as part of the Office of the Crown's Justice gives you supernatural courtroom drama.
Playing mixed offices is of course an option, and the Stewards frequently experience overlap between their roles. The Crown's Justice could find themselves in the courtroom opposite a monster who broke a treaty with a Marshal of Ceremonies or a property developer trying to build upon a place of power tended to by the Wardens.
No matter which office you play. When using the Lord Stewards as protagonists the most important thing is to make sure that their diplomatic methods work. They do not need to be superior to the more violent methods used by other groups, but they should not be notably inferior either. In many works of fiction diplomatic solutions fail in order to justify the action hero going in guns blazing. This is fine, but it's best avoided when the diplomats are protagonists.
If your group is playing Stewards it is always worth taking the time to read a bit of folklore. You can form an entire plot for the Wardens de L'île by reading about an interesting superstition, imagining that it points to a forgotten pact, and thinking of a payment that must be made or a problem that must be fixed to keep the pact healthy. For players any office you can use the presence of superstitious omens to foreshadow and set the theme and the mood; a theme for the Office itself and a mood for the current story. If you want to build a tension have a black cat cross the players path or draw their attention to a solitary magpie. The players of course can take part in this themselves. Carefully not walking under ladders or touching wood after tempting fate is all part of the fun.
It goes without saying that when playing with members of the Marshal of Ceremonies it is important to create a colourful cast of supernatural beings, occult societies and Hunters each with their own goals and desires to negotiate over. But remember that the Lord Stewards Endowments let them talk to just about anything. Consider describing animals, objects and even places with the sort of language used for characters. Give them moods and personalities because after a few years of using Arrangements, that's how a Steward tends to start thinking about the inanimate.
The Castle in the Forest: An ally of the players asks for a little informal favour. Three children, siblings, stopped attending school shortly after repeatedly getting into trouble by insisting that the other students protect themselves from faeries. Upon investigating the players find the children safe and well in their forest home behind some incredibly strong wards (a strength of six). If pressed the family admit they don’t feel safe leaving their wards but are strangely hesitant and try to get the players to leave as fast as possible. Asking any of their possessions is useless; they’re too loyal to reveal family secrets. The forest is slightly more helpful, admitting that there are faeries around but it’s too scared to say more. What is going on, and why are the family unwilling to accept help freely offered?
Tree speaks to Stone; Stone speaks to Water: At almost the same time the Stewards notice two worrying facts. The first is that the land has suddenly become a lot more vocal. People up and down the country are receiving messages giving them advice and occasionally teaching Arrangements. The second is that trying to ask what’s going on – with the Arrangement Vox Britannia – isn’t working. The Arrangement has gone haywire, all attempts to invoke it result in either nothing or a Dramatic Failure. Have the Stewards lost favour with the land? Just a temporary surge in magic? Is this the equivalent of a country shouting in panic? And if it is, what’s causing it?
Pugio in Averso Pax: Several years there was a rather messy incident involving a failed PhD student who figured out a way to grow clones without any brains. He tried to sell his research to the vampires as a risk free source of blood, and get them to pay him to research ways to improve the “flavour”. It all turned sour when he turned out to be planting microscopic trackers in his blood and tried to blackmail the Vampires for millions. After some political manoeuvring and calling in a few favours the Lord Stewards have acquired the research notes, and they’ve found someone who should be able to repeat the work. The Vampires were willing to talk, this looked like it could be the breakthrough in human – Vampire relations that generations of Lord Stewards had been working towards. Then somebody killed everyone at the meeting, Vampires and Stewards alike. Clearly somebody doesn't like the idea of peace, but who? And can you figure it out in time to salvage the talks? Before a power vacuum in the Vampire courts leaves unpoliced fledglings draining people dry in back alleyways?
ANTAGONISTS
For a group of diplomats portraying the Lord Stewards as antagonists is not as hard as one might think. As civil servants and lawyers there is a wealth of battle hardened tropes. From red tape and obstructive bureaucracy getting in-between a Hunter and an evil monster, to lawyers more interested in winning the case then justice. If you remove any genuine concern for the public good then the concept of running a country based on informal arrangements and personal relationships can easily lead to all sorts of dark places: It's the old boys network, rife with favouritism, elitism and idolisation of the status quo.
You do not even need to twist the Lord Steward formulae into something darker to make them suitable antagonists. The Lord Stewards tendency to seek peace treaties and coexistence between humans and the supernatural could easily be enough for other Hunters to dislike the Stewards. Whether that's because they are devoted to extermination or simply because they feel the Stewards offer too many concessions and breaking out the firepower would remind the monsters who's in charge of this planet.
Whatever reason makes the Lord Stewards the Antagonists it is important to remember that the Lord Stewards are part of the government. Even though your protagonists could probably prevail in direct combat, attacking government officials is a quick way to the top of the most wanted list. A more subtle approach is recommended.
And Bob's Your Uncle: You're willing to work with the Stewards as far as keeping peace in your area. They keep the monsters in line, and you police your own cell to make sure no one's stepping on any toes. Hey, it's a good deal that's worked out the past few years. But something went wrong. A mysterious fire in the government offices, and the treaty you all signed is ash now. The Stewards think they can fix it all with a few words and tell you they'll take care of everything. That's when Traci, who works in catering, you saw one of them take a chatting merrily with a Vampire at an collage reunion. The monsters have the government in their pocket. Time to work some "magic" of your own.
International Incident: A friendly hunter that your cell worked with has just sent a desperate text from Britain; the government is horribly compromised. Monsters are running free, in public even, and sometimes they’re even allowed to show themselves for what they really are. People are inadvertently starting to realize the truth, and none of them see the danger inherent in getting to know a monster as a “friend”. You can’t believe it yourself when you step off the plane, and see a witch using their magic like it was a cheap party trick, followed by the vampire that some woman was just letting suck at her neck outside a nightclub. Your flight doesn’t leave for another few days. Time to hunker down and figure out who’s a friendly in this snake pit.
Against the Realm: You’ve served the crown for decades, and when you realized that darker things existed than rioting young fools, you stepped up and made efforts to dismantle their animal society. Only a civil servant from some frivolous department came to you, saying that your plans needed to be put on hold, and he offered you a new position. You couldn’t believe that he would be peaceable with such creatures, and you knew your government was no longer of the people. This office, these “Lord Stewards”, they’re a threat to the continued safety of the realm if they keep these monsters alive and innocent people die at their hands. The government must always be held accountable, so you’ve started digging through the archives. If these “Lord Stewards” are as ancient as they claim to be, they’ve got as much dirty laundry on their operations as any other branch of the government.