Language informs how we perceive our world; if our language has no word for a thing or an idea, we may not even recognize that it exists. If we decipher the language in which the Contagion speaks, our perceptions will shift to accommodate new concepts, and we can communicate fully with its source. So we explore ancient ruins and hidden tombs for lost tongues and dig up evidence of previous outbreaks, missing histories, and forgotten legends. We court powerful, elusive beings with potential insight — torpid elders, strange ghosts, rare spirits, and the Machine’s own angels, to name a few. We interpret dreams and travel into astral realms, scouring souls and minds — especially those of the Contagious and infected, and the universe at large — for clues.
We study all kinds of communication: occult signs and portents, linguistics and ideography, codebreaking and com- puter programming, the collective unconscious and psychics, numerology and symbology. We scour the internet and mass media for subliminal messaging, memes gaining consciousness, and arcane computer viruses. We examine Infrastructure, trying to comprehend the Machine’s vast intellect and will, and to spot the beginnings of aberration before it spreads. We practice magic that draws from words of power, names, and symbols.
The Contagion itself is a prime source of data. We track and record incidents throughout history and across the globe, even into other realms of existence. We study its effects and the patterns we find among the Contagious’ actions and words, and try to translate them into meaning. We communicate directly with the Contagious, who are perhaps the closest to understanding even if it has ruined them in the process. And if they don’t cooperate, we capture them and make them cooperate. Better to ask forgiveness than permission, we always say.
We collaborate with like-minded mortals: theoretical scientists, SETI, conspir- acy theorists, linguists, archaeologists, and paranormal investigators. They can’t even hear the sounds, much less refine them into meaning, but they act as extra eyes and hands, extending our reach far and wide so we don’t leave a single stone unturned. We keep open minds, seeking clues in the most outlandish places and following up on leads that sound like madness to anyone else. No theory is too fantastical, and we test our theories in the field whenever we can. Other Sworn think we’re chasing shadows, but shadows have meaning, too. Anything might.
How we organize: Our local chapters use academic institutions, libraries, museums, laboratories, and other such places as headquarters, and form committees for specialized areas of study. Internationally, we connect like an academic society or professional association, gathering at conferences to present findings and compare notes.
When we swear ourselves to the work, we must each pay our dues — one piece of valuable mystical knowledge, given freely — and participate in the Ophidian Rite, speaking an oath upon a relic of power and enduring the bite of the chapter’s sacred serpent.
Among the Sworn: We’re the experts on weird phenomena and methods of communication, so the others barter with us for knowledge, translation, esoteric rituals, rare tomes, and our services as emissaries to the strange.
We value our diversity because we make longer strides in understanding the unfamiliar, finding new meaning in old secrets, and looking at problems from fresh perspectives when we work together. We create new forms of occult language or powers that blend our practices and abilities in innovative ways.
The others joke that when we find what we’re looking for, we’ll just end up on the Cryptocracy’s doorstep, follow- ing signs they put in place long ago. We’re not so sure it’s a joke. They’re awfully hush-hush.
We get ourselves in trouble when: We fall down rabbit holes and get distracted, or gaze too long into abysses that gaze back. Our work hums with an undertone of unease whenever we look at the Contagious and realize that the closer we get to deciphering the message, the closer we might be to becoming them. Maybe we can’t understand it as we are for a good reason; maybe we’re not meant to. But if we don’t, we lose everything to the Contagion, so we press on.
Sometimes our powers clash or interact in dangerous ways we didn’t expect, and sometimes the natural enemies we stir up with our poking around in places we shouldn’t gang up to stop us. We run afoul of the False all the time, especially Naglfar’s Army, with all those arcane stashes they refuse to share.
When the Contagion is in remission: We hare off on fascinating tangents with our experiments and explorations. All to the good; anything we learn while we have breathing room could be the key to unlocking the mystery once the Contagion returns. We hunt down the rarest of discoveries, and publish journals and blogs that we circulate among the Sworn. The more we share, the more new ideas we receive in return. We learn and master things that take time to grasp, bringing more tools into our toolboxes for when the message speaks up again in full force.
Vector: Semiotics