Sarnath
- At July 25, 2018
- By Great Quail
- In Vampire
0
Not far from the gray city of Ib did the wandering tribes lay the first stones of Sarnath, and at the beings of Ib they marveled greatly. But with their marveling was mixed hate, for they thought it not meet that beings of such aspect should walk about the world of men at dusk.
—H.P. Lovecraft, “The Doom that Came to Sarnath”
Introduction
Sarnath is a nightclub deep in the Sabbat territory of the Upper West Side. Home to the Sarnath Coven, the most important group of Cainites in Gotham, the club is owned by Archbishop Malachi and managed by his ductus Spiral. She is assisted by P.R. Director Jörg Sanders, Head of Security Gimli Watts, Music Director Ruth Addams, Technical Director Dieter Zeit, Sanctum Manager Mozan Yoshi, and a host of Cainites and their retainers as floor managers, artistic directors, hosts, and DJs. All of these personalities are described in the “Sarnath Coven” section of New York By Night, which should be read prior to this description of the club itself.
History
Sarnath was once St. Sebastian, a large, stone church built in a neo-gothic style and occupying nearly half a city block at Amsterdam and 86th Street. After a series of terrible incidents, including the consecutive suicides of three priests, the public trial of a pederast vicar, and the notorious Sister Friday exorcism, the church was shuttered in 1888 and sold to the city. From the years 1894-1917, St. Sebastian was used as an asylum for the criminally insane; however, tragedy soon struck again. Deteriorating conditions and a wildly corrupt administration precipitated a week-long riot, a savage spell of bedlam that left twelve people dead and several more horribly mutilated. St. Sebastian was shut down for the second time and offloaded to a local developer.
In 1962 Don Macedonio Carriego Casares acquired the estate, and in 1971 he turned the old church/asylum into a nightclub he named Bedlam. After a few years as a faltering discotheque, Carriego Casares closed Bedlam down for a period of “reorganization.” Realizing that the Sabbat were destined to increase their presence in the Upper West Side, Archbishop Malachi decided that the club was an excellent opportunity to create a Sabbat haven—let alone a premiere nightclub—and took over the reins from the Lasombra impresario. He hired Spiral, a Gangrel antitribu, as general manager, and employed a team of artists and designers to renovate its entire structure. In 1984 the club reopened as “Sarnath,” and since then has been a smashing success, tapping into the most decadent aspects of Gotham’s nightlife and providing a hip haven for the younger members of the Sabbat.
Description
Sarnath is an impressive edifice of grey stone, stained glass, and black iron. Capitalizing on its appeal as a former church, Malachi had most of the original stained glass windows repaired, but commissioned several replacements from Veronica Tryst, the Toreador antitribu who designed the windows of the Santa de Luzarches, and her progeny Harry Clarke of the Byzantium Coven. Done in a similar style to the original windows depicting Jesus, Mary, and the saints, Tryst’s windows are dedicated to more macabre scenes from the Bible, such as the angel of death slaughtering the firstborn of Egypt, the orgy at the golden calf, and the beheading of John the Baptist. Reflecting her characteristic sense of humor, Tryst’s Biblical figures are based on celebrities—Andrew Warhol and Valerie Solanas play John the Baptist and Salome, Lucifer is a ringer for David Bowie’s “Thin White Duke,” and of course, Madonna stands in for the Virgin Mary. Clarke’s windows are more traditionally art nouveau, and portray actual members of the Sabbat. Glowing predators wearing fin-de-siècle fashions and sardonic expressions, they are depicted observing the humans in their midst, both within the pane and without.
Security
Security at Sarnath is the responsibility of Brujah antitribu Gimli Watts. The club retains a pool of twenty-two human bouncers, each trained in basic martial arts and compensated handsomely for their loyalty and discretion. They are kept in the dark about the true nature of Sarnath, and those that lack the wisdom to keep their suspicions to themselves are treated to Domination and quietly dismissed. Gimli also supervises a team of “Nightgaunts,” thirteen ghouls, fledglings, and neonates drawn from the ranks of Brujah and Panders. Nightgaunts are trained to identify and neutralize a wide range of supernatural threats, including Cainites, Lupines, and mages. There are between fifteen to twenty bouncers on duty any given night, six of whom are Nightgaunts. During Saturnalias or other high-risk events, this number is increased. On nights when Malachi is expecting serious trouble, Gimli’s Nightgaunts are reinforced by an appropriate number of Paladins commanded by the Templar Konstantin Stravescu.
The club’s human bouncers dress in black cargo pants and T-shirts bearing the Sarnath logo. Each is issued a name badge, a mobile phone, a walkie-talkie, a tonfa, and a can of pepper spray. Nightgaunts wear black Hugo Boss suits, and each is additionally equipped with a Kevlar vest, a set of white pine stakes, and a .45-caliber revolver loaded with silver-tipped rounds. Nightgaunts are trusted with keys to the weapons locker, which contains riot-suppression gear, six crossbows, a dozen high-intensity ultraviolet flares, a pair of sawed-off shotguns, and four 9mm Heckler & Koch MP5K submachine guns. Despite this bristling array of weaponry, Sarnath bouncers are instructed to be conscientious and polite, intervening only when absolutely necessary.
General Layout
A sizable club, the sprawl of Sarnath encompasses several major areas. These are generally referred to as “floors,” and are interconnected by a maze of hallways, staircases, catwalks, and secret passages. Each floor has its own unique atmosphere and style. The Nave is the most cavernous, and boasts the club’s largest stage and dance floor. Next door is the Fellowship Hall, Sarnath’s social hub. This is connected to the frenetic Madhouse, the mysterious Black Corridor, and the Cloisters, which provide a much needed chill-out zone. The goth-oriented Asylum in the basement is essentially a club in its own right, and the Sanctum beneath the basilica operates as an exclusive tearoom and café. The lowest level of Sarnath, the Catacombs, is closed to the public, as are the exterior grounds, which feature a garden courtyard and a small cemetery.
The following descriptions feature several rudimentary maps. They are not drawn to scale, and are not intended to be fully representational. Only Sarnath’s essential features are shown, with numerous restrooms, lounges, hallways, alcoves, closets, and stairways left unrecorded. Additionally, architectural terminology is employed rather loosely, forcing terms like “basilica,” “narthex,” and “nave” to their broadest possible limits.
Sarnath Exterior
Public entry to Sarnath is from the west, where the church is set back from Amsterdam Avenue and partially concealed by tasteful landscaping. The church has an unusual design, with the narthex jutting out front and a rectangular tower set into its northwest corner. The basilica rises sharply behind the narthex, and runs its substantial length eastwards along 86th Street toward Columbus Avenue. The second part of the church is the Fellowship Hall, a rectangular two-story building connected to the basilica and running perpendicular to the north. In the old days, the ground floor held a large banquet hall and classrooms, while the second floor was reserved for clerical offices. The addition of the Fellowship Hall gives the church a general “backwards L” shape as viewed from Amsterdam Avenue.
Garden Courtyard & Graveyard
St. Sebastian’s configuration creates the perfect space for a garden courtyard, an enclosure in the northwest corner bordered by the Fellowship Hall to the east, the basilica and tower to the south, an iron fence to the west, and a lovely row of hawthorn to the north. A marble fountain takes up the middle of the courtyard, and Malachi has left it deliberately unrestored—for that forlorn, ruinous effect. Past the hawthorn is a small cemetery, its corroded fence concealing a well-groomed yard. As the actual graves were exhumed and the bodies relocated in 1901, Malachi has ordered the cemetery stocked with appropriately gothic-looking gravestones imported from New England. Although Sabbat Embraces occurring here are not unheard of, the genuine supernatural content of the graveyard is fairly low. (However, there are naturally rumors about the skill, accuracy, and dedication of the workers in 1901!)
With the exception of the miscellaneous VIP tour, on normal nights guests are not permitted to enter the club’s grounds. On the rare occasion when Sarnath hosts an outdoors event, the garden is illuminated by torchlight and hundreds of white candles are positioned around the graveyard. The grounds are furnished with tables, chairs, and canvas bungalows stored in a nearby equipment shed, and a portable bar is erected by the Tower wall.
The Vestibule
Situated behind a massive pair of double doors atop a set of stone steps, the Vestibule is essentially the narthex of the original church, and serves as the public entrance to the club. A large foyer with a high, peaked ceiling, dozens of beeswax candles provide suitable illumination. Dark ambient music plays from concealed speakers, and two hidden projectors throw psychedelic wheels of color against the walls and ceiling. The Vestibule is monitored by three bouncers, one of whom is always a Nightgaunt. Guests form two queues, one for the main club, and a shorter line for the Asylum. Human attendants pass the metal-detection wand over them, check their IDs, and search any bags, pocketbooks, or bulky apparel. If the situation seems warranted, a Nightgaunt may frisk a guest for the presence of wooden stakes. Cleared guests are ushered to the cash booth, where they pay admission for Sarnath, the Asylum, or a reduced cover for both. White, black, and red wrist-bands respectively mark these access privileges. Regulars are not required to wear wrist-bands, and have free reign of the club—Sarnath’s bouncers are trained to remember hundreds of different faces; and when required, to forget one as well.
There are several ways into the interior from the Vestibule. On the left is a staircase leading down to the Asylum, beyond which a short corridor leads to the Fellowship Hall. Also on the left wall is an open door that connects to the Tower. On the right, the doorways have been removed to expose stairs going directly to the Galleries above the inner Nave. There is also a stairway winding down to the Sanctum, but this is guarded against undesirables. The main entrance to the inner club is through the center, where a short passage leads directly to the Nave. This entrance is flanked by a pair of statues, a marble angel and a bronze succubus, elegant and beautiful, reaching out to each other in a gesture of longing. The statues are lit by subtle crimson and amber lighting, and have been dubbed “Adam and Eve” by some long-forgotten regular.
Sarnath Interior
The interior of Sarnath maintains its imposing gothic demeanor, with saints and gargoyles looming from every corner and archway. Concealed lights bathe their stone faces in shades of crimson, indigo, and gold. Occasional corridors are painted with fluorescent murals and illuminated in black light; some gargoyles are likewise garnished with leering fluorescent masks. Alcoves in the walls display bizarre exhibits such as severed heads in jars, occult paraphernalia, warped fun-house mirrors, exotic medical instruments, and a wide array of sexual fetish gear, some worn by brutally disfigured mannequins. The main floors of Sarnath wind across three stories, and are organized as follows:
The Nave
This impressive dance floor is the largest public area of Sarnath, and occupies the basilica of the old church. The Nave has several levels, but the first thing most visitors notice are the stained glass windows. Although there are several smaller windows set into the walls above the galleries, the huge windows on the east and west wall command immediate attention. The west wall is home to the largest piece remaining from the St. Sebastian days. Partially reconstructed in 1979, the window is composed of a central rectangular pane flanked on each side by three narrow panes of decreasing size, and depicts the glorious resurrection of Christ and the lives of favored saints. Done mostly in blues and violets, it’s a lovely work, and during sunset it fairly glows with an aura of sublime piety.
Annunciation of the Antichrist
The opposite wall is dominated by a Veronica Tryst masterpiece. Titled Annunciation of the Antichrist, it depicts an eroticized Virgin Mary as the Whore of Babylon in the act of conceiving the Beast. Wild-eyed and crimson-haired, dressed in garters and fishnets with bare breasts swollen over an undone corset, she gleefully straddles a cobalt-winged angel as the world erupts in a chaos of flame and demonic torment. Scenes from the Book of Revelation are depicted in twelve curved panels that encircle the central disc, each centered on a Roman numeral of cast iron. A mechanized track is set into the outer perimeter of the window, containing two inward-pointing spikes fashioned from St. Sebastian’s original iron fence. They function as the hands of an inverted clock, turning this amazing window into a timepiece of gothic dimensions. A rack of tubular bells with corresponding trip-hammers is mounted directly below the window, connected to the clock mechanism by a complex series of gears hidden within the walls. When the mechanism is engaged, the bells ring out the hour; greeting midnight with the first fifteen notes of the Dies Irae. The mechanism can be disconnected by a lever set into a locked panel, a particularly useful feature when bands are playing the Nave.
During sunrise, the Annunciation comes alive with fiery tones, bathing the Nave in flaming scarlets, cobalt blues, and acid greens. In order to take advantage of this effect, which is naturally unseen by Cainites, Dieter Zeit installed a ring of computerized Vari-Lites on the outside perimeter of the window. When set to white, they illuminate the stained glass brilliantly, casting panes of colored light through the haze and checkering the dancers with strobing images. Of course the lights can be rotated, tracked, pulsed, and tuned to different colors, all of which makes for some spectacular lighting effects.
Although universally hailed as a masterpiece by Cainite and humans alike, Veronica’s little clock has engendered no small amount of neighborhood controversy, where it looms through the trees two blocks away from Public School 166. Not only is the subject blasphemous, the hour-hand is reputed to be the very spire that impaled Sister Friday when she was flung from the belfry in 1888. Despite frequent payoffs and the liberal use of Domination, Spiral and Sander have agreed to hang a large “Sarnath” banner over the window during the day, obscuring the controversial figure of the Harlot Mary. The black and gold banner is removed when the club opens at 10 pm and replaced after it closes at 4 am, ensuring the neighborhood children remain uncorrupted.
The Dance Floor
Where once good Catholics lined up for Holy Communion, the area directly below the Annunciation window now hosts an altar to Dionysus—a stage. To the right of the stage, a bar serves dancers a new communion of beer and cocktails. On the left side is a green room where musicians can rest and prepare. Previously the kitchen of the Fellowship Hall, the green room features ample access to the exterior, where crews can load and unload equipment from the rear of the church near 86th Street. The stage itself is large and sturdy, and can accommodate most bands with little modification. During nights when no live music is scheduled, steps are extended from the base of the stage and dancers are allowed to take it over. An unspoken rule has arisen that only the most talented, uninhibited, and passionate dancers are allowed to mount the stage. If revelers are not ready for total submission to the beat, peer pressure works to remove them from the platform. Dancers are encouraged to shed their inhibitions while on the stage, and it’s not uncommon to see partial nudity or semi-clandestine sex, especially against the back wall. On nights that need some extra “juice,” Spiral stocks the stage with go-go dancers or professional ringers; anything to get the crowd wound up and the party started.
The Galleries
Above the dance floor are the Galleries, illuminated by candlelight and furnished with small tables and chairs. An iron railing ensures that drunken patrons won’t swan dive onto the dance floor, although the constant presence of a bouncer acts as a greater deterrent. The Galleries surround the Nave on all sides except the east wall, and are narrowest below the west window. Here, in the space once occupied by the long-gutted organ, is the DJ booth, where DJ Leng, Mistress Dis Astra, or guest DJs pound the floor using the finest in modern acoustic technology. The south gallery boasts a narrow bar, while the north gallery is divided by the tech booth, the control room that operates the club’s lighting systems and special effects. Restrooms are positioned in corridors behind each gallery, and are tackily themed “Monks” and “Nuns.”
The Mousetrap
Suspended above the Galleries is the “Mousetrap,” a level of catwalks and scaffolding accessible from metal staircases near the Gallery bar. When a band is playing, these are filled with onlookers, particularly those who wish to avoid the crowds below. Perched almost three stories above the dancefloor, these catwalks are not for the faint of heart, and are enclosed with waist-high metal fences. Situated among the Mousetrap are three cages which can be winched up and down to various heights; when in use, they are occupied by entertainers such as go-go dancers, strippers, carney freaks, and fire-eaters. During erotically-themed Saturnalias, they have been known to host live sex shows.
Die Himmelsmaschine
Woven through the catwalks of the Mousetrap and webbing the vaulted ceiling of the old church is a technological stratosphere Dieter refers to as “Die Himmelsmaschine,” a network of lights, lasers, mirrors, disco balls, fog machines, and projectors controlled from the tech booth. The ever-evolving masterwork of Dieter Zeit, die Himmelsmaschine can create an astonishing variety of special effects, especially when combined with the Vari-Lites mounted outside Sarnath’s stained glass windows. It’s not uncommon to find stoned patrons and bedazzled tech geeks gripping the railing of the catwalks, gazing into the labyrinth of technology with spaced-out expressions of wonder and awe.
When Sarnath opened its doors in 1984, the upper catwalks and lighting rigs were referred to as “Heaven.” After Dieter had it redesigned to his exacting specifications, Ruth Addams joked that the German had constructed a million-dollar game of Mousetrap, and the name stuck. Indeed, every so often she’ll hang a rubber mouse in the rigging, dangling by its tail in some hard-to-reach location. These rubber mice are assiduously collected and numbered by Dieter for some unknown future purpose.
The Fellowship Hall
A pair of corridors from the Nave connects to “the Hall,” Sarnath’s main social hub. The former Fellowship Hall of the church, its walls are adorned with blinking Christmas lights, glowing carnival masks, fluorescent spiral patterns, and TV-monitors displaying loops of esoteric video art. The center of the Hall is occupied by an enormous circular bar, well-stocked and staffed by four bartenders dressed like Roman Catholic priests, irrespective of their gender. The main lighting in the Hall is provided by a large aluminum ring suspended above this central bar, its surface inscribed with blue neon signs. Created by Bruce Nauman, the radiant glass tubes are twisted into cursive messages—“No one likes you.” “Hell is real and you are mocking religion.” “The person next to you is a vampire.”
The Fellowship Hall is where guests come to socialize, and a layer of soundproofing ensures that conversations can actually be heard above the throbbing of the adjacent dance floors. Old pews line the walls, and the floor is furnished with two dozen tables, their wooden surfaces découpaged with pages from old hymnals. Waitress service takes the form of gothic nuns tricked up in religious fetishwear; these are generally humans shared with La Maison de Sade and La Nouvelle Justine. Each table is named for the hymn used as its decoration, which leads to some amusing requests: “Sister Suzuki says the gentleman at Come Divine Messiah needs another Slow Comfortable Screw.” The music in the Hall is kept subtle and upbeat, although liturgical music such as hymns and Gregorian chanting is common, especially on slow nights and goth parties.
The Fellowship Hall connects directly to the Madhouse and the Black Corridor, and a staircase by the entrance leads downstairs to the Asylum and the Cloisters. Sarnath’s largest set of restrooms are located in the northwest corner of the Hall, and are kept clean and mercifully unthemed. An “Employees Only” door between the restrooms leads upstairs to sizable break room, a unisex locker room, a cluster of offices, and numerous storage rooms.
The Madhouse
Located at the north end of the Fellowship Hall, this floor is called the Madhouse, and radiates a spiky vibe apocalyptic decay. Entrance is through a 24-bolt Diebold vault door, and the dance floor is unforgivingly plated with scuffed nickel. The walls are honeycombed with display cases housing fragments of bent metal, broken gears, and smashed instrument panels, each identified as the remnants of a famous car crash—“Bent license plate and two cigarettes from F.W. Murnau’s rented Packard. 10 March 1931.” “Cracked speedometer and bottle of Old Fitzgerald from Jackson Pollack’s 1950 Oldsmobile 88 Convertible. 11 August 1956.” “Smashed headlight and heraldic emblem from James Ballard’s 1961 Lincoln Continental. 21 December 1973.” A pair of helicopter blades is mounted to the ceiling, its perimeter marked by a circle of hanging chains. The blades are powered by a small electric motor, and may be rotated just aggressively enough to generate a noisy swirl of air, rattle the chains, and chop the ceiling’s spotlights into flickering strobes. Fixed into position beneath the rotor head is an industrial-grade chandelier made from fused gun parts, a hostile bouquet of gunmetal and brass pointing down at the dance floor. Powerful LEDs hidden in the barrels produce piercing beams of white light, and when the DJ toggles the attached laser sights, the dance floor is transformed into a kill box. When the helicopter blades are set in rotation, the chandelier becomes world’s most unnerving disco ball.
The restroom of the Madhouse is unisex, with blinking closed-circuit cameras positioned above each urinal and stall. This live feed is processed through a computer that distorts the stream into psychedelic video art, which is displayed on a television screen mounted above the bar. The bar itself is fashioned from the remains of a diesel submarine, and its offerings are kept purposefully generic—the taps are marked LAGER and ALE, and the shelves are lined with identical white bottles labeled VODKA, WHISKEY, TEQUILA, and so on. Guests requesting specific brands are ignored by the black-clad bartenders, who have adopted the custom of wearing cheap plastic Halloween masks. Madhouse bartenders are instructed to be deliberately rude, and only provide numbers if asked their names. Number Three has been known to handcuff unruly guests to the bar, while Number Seven claims to have a remote control that “clears up” the video feed.
Sometimes a heavy metal band is invited to play the Madhouse, but it’s normally reserved for dancing and general carousing. The floor is kept moving at a frenetic pace, and the lighting is sparse, quick, and migraine-inducing. Pounding techno, electronica, and industrial is the standard fare, spiced with hip hop, heavy metal, jungle, and hard house. The DJ spins from an elevated glass cage called the “Glassy Gnoll,” its bottom fitted with a rack of helicopter spotlights controlled through the tech panel. As the patrons of the Madhouse can get a bit rough, a bouncer is positioned near the door, his name badge reading “Number Zero.”
The Black Corridor
A narrow hallway from the Fellowship Room leads upstairs to the Black Corridor, a wooden labyrinth painted matte black and shrouded in total darkness. Additional obstructions to comfortable navigation come in the shape of hospital beds from the asylum days, their frames twisted into a jungle playroom of hidey-holes, secret tunnels, and tiered fortresses. Intermittently the oppressive darkness is dispelled by sudden dramatic lighting effects—strobes flash a searing tattoo across the tangle of bedframes, naked red lightbulbs hanging from cords flood the rooms with sanguine light, pornographic neon lights sputter along the celling, or concealed ultraviolet lamps expose the real-life horror of human fluids staining the walls and floor. Fog machines built into the floor purr to life every hour or so, spewing clouds of cold vapor that billow through the maze and roll up the walls. The music in the Black Corridor depends on the mood of the Nave DJ, who controls the speakers from the main booth. Acid jazz, trip hop, and ambient industrial are the norm, but sporadically the floor is punished with black metal or power electronics.
The Black Corridor is where people go to make various sordid arrangements, conduct fumbling hook-ups, or just quietly get high, and a sweet pallor of herbal decay clings to the painted wood like a pungent miasma. Although most of its inhabitants are content to keep to themselves, an occasional beating has been handed out in this dark labyrinth, and more than one person has vanished forever. A Nightgaunt patrols every twenty minutes, but Malachi has instructed them to intrude only when genuine murder is in the air. Cainites are permitted to feed discreetly in the Black Corridor, but like the rest of Sarnath’s public spaces, kills are strictly prohibited.
The Bell Tower
A rectangular bell tower with gothic spires rising from each corner, this structure is attached directly to the basilica and is accessible through the Vestibule. Its interior is illuminated by numerous stained glass windows, both vintage restorations and a few Tryst originals based on Lovecraft’s “Dreamlands” stories. Additional electrical lighting is subdued but effective, and during colder months, the interior is comfortably heated.
Rising five stories above the street, the Tower may be divided into three unequal sections. Its basement forms part of the Sanctum, and is described later. The Tower’s first three floors have been reserved for vendors connected to Sarnath, and serve as the club’s commercial center. Formally named the Tower Emporium, everyone just calls it “the Tower.” This is crowned by a two-story belfry.
The Tower Emporium
Over the years, Sarnath has established business relationships with many of New York’s premier fetish designers, curiosity vendors, and occult stores, and many of these lease space in the Tower to show off their latest wares, especially during theme nights and Reaver’s Balls. DeMask, London Fetish, The Baroness, Search & Destroy, Religious Sex, Gothic Renaissance, Obscura Antiques, Evolution, Stick Stone & Bone, Enchantments, Prospero’s Books, and of course Pharzuph are frequent merchants, and boutiques may be invited from overseas, including London’s “supernatural tailors” Stake & Bledsoe, Berlin’s infamous Mitternachtsleder, and the Parisian Toreadors Mammon & Rouge, known for their bespoke fetishwear based on occult themes. Bands playing the Nave are provided with a merch table near the ground floor entrance, where they may peddle albums, shirts, and posters.
Ilarnek
The entire third floor of the Tower Emporium is occupied by Ilarnek, Sarnath’s gift shop. Staffed by human employees, Ilarnek sells T-shirts, hoodies, jackets, hats, pins, and jewelry bearing the Sarnath logo and related designs, all available at reasonable prices for the discriminating tourist. More trafficked by club regulars are the CD racks, which offer a selection of live shows recorded at Sarnath, as well as mix-tapes created by DJ Leng, Ruth Addams, Mistress Dis Astra, and Idi Amin. Ilarnek also sells a respectable range of occult books and weird fiction, including oversized hardcovers of H.P. Lovecraft’sThe Doom That Came to Sarnath and The Haunter of the Dark, published by Libyrinth Press and lavishly illustrated by Jason B. Thompson and Harry Clarke respectively. Unusual consignment items are also welcome, such as props from the HPL Historical Society, Sarnath-related artwork, and vampire-themed jewelry.
While some of Malachi’s peers consider it vulgar to sell T-shirts with Sabbat club designs, the Archbishop just laughs them off. He is particularly fond of the black T-shirt with a ghostly outline of the church on the front, Veronica’s Annunciation window screened across the back, and the logo: “Sarnath—The Church of Starry Wisdom” emblazoned in glow-in-the-dark lettering. When pressed, the he quotes Baudelaire: “La plus belle des ruses du diable est de vous persuader qu’il n’existe pas!” Malachi is constantly threatening to create a series of “Dieter Zeit action figures,” which never fails to raise an exasperated sneer from the German antitribu.
The Pulpit
The Tower’s belfry is employed by Malachi as an office, off-limits to anyone but himself. The staff calls it “Malachi’s pulpit,” and for good reason. A trap door gives access to the roof, a favorite place for the Archbishop to meditate, where he can appear dramatically framed against St. Sebastian’s spires as he gazes hungrily toward the glowing core of Manhattan.
Sarnath Underground
Sarnath’s lower levels are referred to collectively as the “Underground.” The basement of the Fellowship Hall has been converted to the Asylum, a quasi-independent club, while the Cloisters and the Sanctum are located beneath the stone basilica. There’s also a deeper level below that, one carved out of the wine cellars by the Sabbat itself and unknown to Sarnath’s mortal patrons. Called the Catacombs, this area is reserved for Cainites only.
The Asylum
Directly below the Fellowship Hall is the Asylum. Once a communal space for Gotham’s imprisoned lunatics, the Asylum is now New York City’s last surviving goth club. Large and spacious, the walls are covered with the scribblings of the inmates who rioted in 1917. Their disturbing sketches and wild, inchoate rantings serve as the club’s principal ornamentation, with the more interesting specimens protected by Plexiglas shields bolted into the wall. The graffiti is interrupted by niches displaying sculptures and personal artifacts created by the long-dead inmates, including a celebrated model of the Lusitania crafted out of soap, newspaper, matches, and string. The floor is painted a black and white chessboard pattern, and the only lighting effects used in the Asylum are blood red and icy white. Black lace stalactites twist down from the ceiling, and alcoves near the bar contains life-size statues of Neil Gaiman’s Sandman and Delirium, ironically acquired through the Sharper Image. (Lately, younger guests have been rolling their eyes at these tacky, “old school” decorations.) The Asylum’s tables are fashioned from church pews, and the bar is plastered with pages from texts commonly rejected as “insane,” including 120 Days of Sodom, Finnegans Wake, The Book of Lies, The Naked Lunch, and the poetry of Arthur Rimbaud, Sylvia Plath, and Georges Bataille. The DJ booth is near the dance floor, and is a home away from home for Ruth Addams, the patron saint of the Asylum. The original marble statue of St. Sebastian himself resides near the booth, arrows piercing his lithesome flanks as he gazes mournfully across the dance floor. Ruth calls the statue “Saint Morrissey,” and traditionally opens her Wednesday Addams set with “The Boy with the Thorn in His Side.”
Stairs near the Asylum’s restroom lead to the Fellowship Hall, and a longer corridor leads to the Vestibule outside. A bored attendant is always on duty to check people’s wristbands. Asylum patrons are allowed access to the Cloisters, which is connected by a short hallway near the bar.
The Gimp
The Asylum’s large, unisex restroom is serviced by an attendant completely mummified in black leather. Once Pulp Fiction became popular, people started calling the attendant “the Gimp.” Most human guests assume “being the Gimp” is simply an unpleasant job, a role filled nightly by one of Malachi’s employees; but Cainites recognize that the creature has Kindred blood. The Gimp is thought to be either a Malkavian or an insane Nosferatu, but recently DJ Leng suggested that the Gimp is one of the original residents of St. Sebastian Asylum, a century-old lunatic trapped in a world he (or she) cannot possibly understand. This dark notion has captured the imagination of the staff, but Malachi refuses to divulge where he unearthed this enigmatic creature.
The Cloisters
The former basement of the basilica is a confusing jigsaw of rooms, offices, and cellars that date back to St. Sebastian’s rededication as a lunatic asylum. Now called the Cloisters, these rooms are kept deliberately gloomy, the hallways lit by candles of various shapes and sizes. Some rooms have doors that lock, some have doors that don’t lock, and others are totally exposed. The Cloisters are furnished with miscellaneous tables, chairs, couches, and beds, and the music is a steady stream of trance, ambient, and dub. The atmosphere of the Cloisters is peaceful and intimate, and Spiral allows artists and performers to set up shop in the larger rooms—Tarot readers, magicians, gothic tailors, body-painters, jewelry-makers, armorers, massage therapists, that sort of thing. One may even find the occasional game of Magic: The Gathering, Call of Cthulhu, or Vampire: The Masquerade, depending on the night.
The Cloisters are the focus of much drug use, sexual activity, and needless to say, the drinking of blood. The House turns a blind eye to most illicit activities, but patrons are expected to remain non-violent and clean up after themselves, and anyone caught leaving behind used condoms, needles, or even half-empty drinks(!) will be barred from returning. Every few hours a human employee patrols the area and straightens things up, replaces candles, and checks to make sure everything is in order. Bouncers makes rounds every half hour. Secret panels, doors, and passageways are positioned in some of the rooms, known only to the Sabbat, who can move from one locked room to another as if by magic.
The secret entrance to the Catacombs is found behind the locked doors of an old surgery, marked by a plaque reading OPERATING THEATER. All members of the Sabbat are issued a key, an old-fashioned affair made from brass and engraved with the Cainite’s name.
The Sanctum
Managed by Master Mozan Yoshi, the Sanctum is an underground café and tearoom designed by the Swiss surrealist H.R. Giger. Its theme is “biomechanical eroticism,” and Giger’s sculptures and artwork adorn the queasily ribbed walls. The lighting is kept chilly but muted, and the air resonates to the sound of vintage electronic music, ambient industrial, Krautrock, and atonal classical. (Sanctum favorites include early Tangerine Dream, Zanov, Fripp & Eno, and experimental composers such as Ligeti, Feldman, Zamiatin, and Babbitt.)
An impressive variety of coffee and tea is available at the Sanctum, including a host of original concoctions spiked with powerful drugs and given Lovecraftian names. Known as “Black Light Coffees,” these unique brews are available through a secret menu, and are served only to those in the know. When called for, a barista quietly places the Black Light Coffee Menu on the table. Composed of matte-black plastic, its contents are written in fluorescent ink invisible to the naked eye. Above each table is a small lightbulb on a retractable stalk. When pulled down, the bulb switches on with a satisfying click, providing just enough ultraviolet light to render the menu intelligible. If an unauthorized patron becomes overly inquisitive, they are brought a fake menu featuring the Sanctum’s standard beverages, printed on black plastic with florescent pornography and French verses from Baudelaire.
The Sanctum’s counter and preparation area is recessed into a sunken island along the north wall, adjacent the basement of the Tower, which is used to store the prolific supplies and ingredients demanded by the Sanctum’s specialized menu. As this includes a vast pharmacopoeia of controlled substances, the door is kept locked and alarmed, a bored-senseless ghoul stationed inside the storeroom at all times. A dumbwaiter in the Tower connects directly to the “Parlor” in the Catacombs below. There is always a Nightgaunt on duty in the Sanctum, perched near the entrance and sober as a judge. Cainites, ghouls, and blood dolls are welcome to the Sanctum, but casual human guests are restricted unless vouchsafed by a Cainite or Sarnath employee. Of course, mortal VIPs are welcome, and most trusted regulars are eventually issued an invite, but Malachi keeps the Sanctum fairly exclusive.
Marinaderie
The spiritual successor to Mozan Yoshi’s Shiria Kiku, the Sanctum serves as a marinaderie, a place where Cainites bring humans to “flavor” their blood. If a Cainite is not accompanied by a human, she may order a “chalice.” A blood doll kept on retainer, the purpose of a chalice is to imbibe the selected beverage and keep the Cainite “company” until the drug wears off. Needless to say, addled by countless drugs and spending their time with vampires looking for a thrill, these chalices do not enjoy particularly long lifespans. Most were addicts already, selected for their attractiveness and conditioned to slavery through Presence. Some younger Cainites refer to these blood dolls as “mules,” and to the process as “doping.” Such language is considered the height of bad taste, and Mozan Yoshi has been known eject vampires who become too flagrantly disrespectful. It is forbidden to feed openly in the Sanctum, so most Cainites take their chalices to the Cloisters or Catacombs once the drugs have their desired effect. On nights when the Sanctum is closed for special Sabbat functions, drinking and killing is naturally permitted.
[View the Black Light Coffee Menu here!]
The Catacombs
Unknown and unsuspected by the humans frolicking above, the Catacombs represent the hidden depths of Sarnath. At first glance, they appear as a collection of diverse chambers radiating from a central rotunda like the petals of a flower. But each of these chambers is unique, and most afford access to even deeper rooms, which may lead to deeper bowers still. Eventually, these lower warrens merge into a subterranean labyrinth of unknown dimensions. The Catacombs date back to the Bedlam days, when Don Carriego Casares believed the wine cellar of the old church would make a grand place for a lair. When Malachi took over the property, he increased the size and depth of the space considerably, even seeking approval from Prince Radu himself, lest the Archbishop “upset the mole people and incur the wrath of His Blueness.”
Security
The Catacombs are off-limits to any but the Sabbat and their guests. Indeed, many of Sarnath’s human employees have never set foot in these dark chambers, with insiders like Ruth Addams turning a blind eye and keeping a respectful distance. Not even Nightgaunts are entrusted to keep the Catacombs secure, and there is always a pair of Templars on duty, one stationed in the Operating Theater and one in the rotunda.
Atmosphere
The atmosphere of the Catacombs is one of sinister darkness; where the club above merely plays with the theatrical conceits of evil, the Catacombs radiate the real thing. Illuminated by ensconced torches and candelabras, the ambient music tends towards the darker side of the acoustic spectrum: drone, martial industrial, neoclassical, and even traditional music slowed down to quarter speed. The rotunda features only one decoration, a lugubrious stone angel brooding over a fountain of mysterious black liquid. On certain nights, concerts may be staged in the rotunda, traditionally string quartets, solo recitals, or choirs of castrati.
The Petal Chambers
Known as the “Petal Chambers,” the rooms of the Catacombs vary in utility, furnishing, and style. Some are little more than cushioned dens designed for vampires to devour the living, but a few have individual names and specific purposes.
The Parlor
This room is kept locked, and contains a handsome parlor appointed in teak and brass. It is used by the elders of the Sabbat to take tea and talk strategy, and connects directly to the Sanctum through a dumbwaiter. Long considered a security risk by Konstantin Stravescu, Malachi contends that ready access to hot coffee trumps the risk of a Lupine scrambling down the chute.
The Demoniacum
At first, this small room seems to contain just an oubliette, but a spiral staircase leading down the uninviting well leads to a pentagonal chamber, its walls inscribed with Enochian runes. Although coven lore contends that Malachi uses it to summon demons, visiting Tremere antitribu dismiss the Demoniacum as another of the Tzimisce’s pretentions—“Those glyphs aren’t real! He cribbed them from that paperback Necronomicon!” The rumor that the pentagonal room conceals a passage to a deeper, more authentic summoning chamber remains unsubstantiated.
Hall of the Blood Feast
The most terrible room in Sarnath, this chamber is located directly beneath the rotunda, and is where the Sabbat conducts their Blood Feasts. Despite being little more than an execution chamber, the room is quite beautiful, its curved walls covered in Moorish tile and the concave floor a mosaic of soapstone, malachite, and jade. One of St. Sebastian’s original bronze bells has been relocated here, fixed to a gimbal where it can swing upside-down and double as a cauldron. Chains dangle from the ceiling, where human victims are suspended over a central fount, an elevated bowl in the shape of a gilded flower and surrounded by a stainless steel drain. The humans are bled like livestock, their vitae flowing into the fount and channeled into crystal goblets. Of course, such niceties may be dispensed with, as some Cainites like to have the rain of blood cascade directly into their open mouths. Although Blood Feasts are sometimes followed by spontaneous orgies, the hard stone floor offers few concessions to comfort, so the corpses are usually cut down and used for cushioning. A closet recessed into the wall contains additional goblets, a plastic bucket of cleaning products, and a canvas firehose.
The Bordello of Sirens
One of the most trafficked chambers in the Catacombs, the Bordello is a large room illuminated by red lanterns and strewn with cushions and divans. Open only on weekends, it features a dozen young men and women recruited from the streets, conditioned through Presence and flesh-crafted into beautiful sirens. Although kills must be cleared through Malachi or Spiral, this languid seraglio provides an erotic banquet for invited guests. Spiral remains less than happy about its presence, and insists that the Bordello’s inhabitants be willing participants. Those that are not killed are discharged after a year or two of service. That most of these castoffs become abject blood dolls destined to be murdered by a former “client” is a fact Spiral tries to ignore, and Malachi occasionally has to remind her to keep her humanity in check.
The Library of Globes
The largest chamber in the Catacombs, the Library of Globes is a splendid drawing room hung with magisterial portraits of long-dead Sabbat elders, their faces glowering from walls bedecked with antique tapestries. Stained glass chandeliers provide warm and generous lighting, and the Library is the only chamber in the Catacombs to be fully climate controlled. The room contains a spinet, a billiard table, and a massive bookcase collecting first-edition volumes dating back to the invention of the printing press. More importantly, the Library of Globes features its namesake, a collection of sixty-six globes ranging from priceless antiques to modern contrivances of electrified glass. While terrestrial orbs dominate, there’s also baroque armillary spheres, heavenly celestial spheres, serene lunar globes, mechanical orreries tracking the motions of the planets, and a pair of “hollow earths,” one based on the theories of Edmund Halley and the other on the madness of Richard Sharpe Shaver. Other highlights include a magnificent but wildly inaccurate “maquette of the known world,” created in faïence by the Toreador Thutmose of Akhetaten in 1339 BC and upside-down to modern sensibilities; one of Saîd al-Sahlì’s beautiful Andalusian astrolabes dating from 1077; a remarkable globe of Mars made from hammered metals and precious stones, created by a Malkavian cartographer in 1975 who claimed first-hand knowledge; and Veronica Tryst’s “World of Darkness No. 1999,” an glass globe divided into supernatural territories by sect, clan, and cairn. However, the most extraordinary item in the collection is also its most mysterious and controversial—a curious globe depicting Pangea’s breakup into Laurasia and Gondwana, complete with a cloisonné Tethys Ocean in lustrous blue enamel. The exquisite craftsmanship is disturbingly seamless, and its geographical features are precisely labeled in a cipher consisting of pentagonal dot clusters. Most Cainites believe the globe is a hoax commissioned by Malachi as an elaborate joke, but when the Archbishop offered to have it subjected to radiometric dating, he found no one willing to call his bluff.
Serving the Sabbat as a private salon, the Library of Globes is where the Sarnath Coven performs many of its Auctoritas Ritae, including the Rites of Vaulderie. A sunken island occupies the middle of the chamber, strewn with velvet cushions and surrounding an altar of carved Cuban mahogany. A cabinet in the altar holds several important chalices, including the lead goblet used to poison Pope Clement II, a deeply-stained wooden grail from the Middle Ages said to contain a piece of the True Cross, a French communal chalice from the Avignon papacy, a battered Turkish goblet stolen from Vlad Dracul in 1888, and an O.T.O. chalice once owned by Aleister Crowley and emblazoned with Tarot symbols. There is also the “Shining Trapezohedron,” a queerly-angled vessel hewn from black stone and striated with pulsing red veins. It was presented to Malachi by Vhaindra herself, who asserts that the chalice originated in “Illrháel,” the world the ancient Tzimisce maintains is her home dimension. The cabinet also contains an ornate beer stein placed there as a joke, but since no one knows who contributed it, it has remained unused for over a decade.
Kadath
A collective term for the extended suite of lower chambers accessible through the Library of Globes, “Kadath” is where many of the coven’s Cainites make their lairs, including Spiral, Konstantin Stravescu, Easter and Esbat, DJ Leng, and Gimli Watts. Although Malachi’s primary residential address is unknown, he maintains a small bower in Kadath, where he stores his collection of unusual skeletons and three reserve coffins filled with his native Swabian soil.
The Gate, the Silver Key, and the Lampblack Looking Glass
Just past the entrance to Kadath is a stone staircase spiraling even deeper into the earth. At the bottom is the Gate, a pair of ornate bronze doors cast in the tenth century and depicting the sack of Barcelona by the forces of Al-Mansūr. Unlocked by the Silver Key worn around Malachi’s neck, the Gate swings opens to reveal a large, flyspecked mirror known as the Speculum Fuligo, rendered poetically as the Lampblack Looking Glass. This mirror is Gotham’s nexus point with La Cathedral Envuelta, and only the most powerful elders of the Sabbat possess the means to dissolve its glass surface and invoke the Rite of Ostium.
Welcome to my house. Come freely. Go safely; and leave something of the happiness you bring.
—Bram Stoker, Dracula
Sarnath’s Calendar & Weekly Parties
Despite its uptown location, Sarnath is a popular nightclub frequented by a diverse range of clientele. Sarnath is open 10 p.m. to 4 a.m. Tuesday through Sunday nights, and often features Live PAs, VIP events, and live music. Like most large clubs, Sarnath hosts numerous “parties,” theme-nights that rotate through a monthly schedule and attract a devoted following of regulars. Most of these parties occur in the Nave, the Fellowship Hall, and the Madhouse, with the Black Corridor sometimes accorded a thematic change in ambiance. The Asylum normally remains independent, and hosts occasional parties of its own. The Sanctum is never part of a larger party. On Monday nights, Sarnath is closed for private Sabbat gatherings and general maintenance.
Every first Tuesday—Puss & Boots
This party is hosted by Easter and Esbat, the Malkavian drag-queen/drag-king couple. While Puss & Boots is open to all guests, queer patrons, gender-benders, and drag queens are especially courted. There is always a theme, and guests are invited to dress accordingly—“Arsenic & Old Lace,” “Halloween on Easter,” “Spartacus!,” “Teen Angst,” “Transsexual Transylvania,” and “Fabulous Twin Peaks” are a few recent examples. The music is campy but impeccably danceable, and ranges from classic disco to upbeat house. Puss & Boots can become a touch outré, but it usually remains within the bounds of its own demented sense of taste.
Every second Tuesday—Viriconium Nights
Viriconium Nights is a geek’s paradise, a monthly party with a focus on cyberfetish, chaos magic, and techno-paganism. (The name “Viriconium” is taken from an M. John Harrison SF novel, and has absolutely no relation to Venus and Orchid’s S&M dungeon.) Popular with guests ranging from comic book nerds to Silicon Alley yuppies, even the occasional Virtual Adept has been known to attend. Technological performance art is the mainstay of Viriconium Nights, and Dieter Zeit ensures that sophisticated lightshows, psychedelic computer animation, and sonic innovation are the norm. Bands may be booked for the Nave, with experimental groups such as Threek, The Reactable Three, Psychic TV, This Heat, Sun City Girls, and Animal Collective given free rein to improvise and innovate. Between sets, Mistress Dis Astra keeps the music on the cutting edge, while the Madhouse is dosed with frantic electronica and the Black Corridor treated to obscure seventies prog-rock.
Every third Tuesday—Rubyfruit Jungle
Hosted by Mistress Dis Astra, Rubyfruit Jungle is a lesbian-friendly party attended by punks, riot grrrls, and “urban primitive” types. The irony content runs high, including mock beauty contests, male slave auctions, and staged reenactments of female prison movies. The music tends towards kitschy pop classics, but bands such as Rockbitch, Deva, Kill the Indigo Girls!, Lez Zeppelin, or The Dyke with Her Finger in the Boy may be booked for the Nave.
Every fourth Tuesday—Spontaneous Combustion
The last Tuesday of the month is reserved for Spontaneous Combustion, a night of up-and-coming bands, amateur DJs, stand-up comedians, storytellers, and performance artists. The ethos is “Try anything once!”, and guests are encouraged to cheer and jeer the performers as they see fit. Obviously a mixed bag, some nights are fortunate enough to preview future stars, while others degenerate into an underground version of The Gong Show. True to the spirit of the party, Spontaneous Combustion has triggered countless heated arguments, tearful break-ups, impromptu marriages, transgressive sexual experiences, and bad drug trips. The festivities are typically presided over by Ruth Addams, but periodically Easter and Esbat lend a helping hand.
Every fourth Tuesday—The Va-Va Voom That Came to Sarnath (Asylum)
Down in the Asylum, fourth Tuesdays are reserved for “Voom,” Sarnath’s monthly burlesque show. Depending on the mood of the coven and the nature of the performers, Voom can range from Vaudeville-style productions with strippers, comedians, and magicians to darker affairs drenched in sex and blood. Voom is generally hosted by Betty Auzenne, who tends to keep things lighter than her occasional alternate, Gloria Excelsis of the Byzantium Coven.
Every first and third Wednesday—The Wednesday Addams
Hosted by Ruth Addams, the Wednesday Addams is a classic eighties-style goth and industrial night. One of the club’s more popular parties, the Wednesday Addams features bands in the Nave, industrial DJs in the Madhouse, and darkwave, trance, or ambient permeating the rest of the club. During these nights, admission to the Asylum is included in the general cover, and every guest is issued a red wristband.
Every second and fourth Wednesday—Gotham Steel
This party is one of the loudest nights in New York. Hosted by DJ Leng and Idi Amin, each room is a shredding zone of furious techno, jungle, hip-hop, metal, and occasional spasms of hardcore and thrash. Only the Cloisters are allowed to chill out, and even then, DJ Leng has been known to spike the ambient drone with random, ear-splitting bursts of white noise, “just for the fuck of it.” Bands may be booked to the Nave, with hardcore, metal, and noise rock being the usual suspects.
Every second Wednesday—DJ Shiel’s House of Sounds (Asylum)
Down in the Asylum, second Wednesdays are reserved for DJ Shiel’s House of Sounds, a night devoted to experimental music. A barely-disguised Dieter Zeit, “DJ Shiel” performs with his musical associates DJ ProGnosis, a Malkavian ghoul from Brooklyn, and DJ Starless & Bible Black, a human couple who invent, program, and play their own musical instruments. The House of Sounds has three rules: Guests cannot complain, make requests, or raise their voices above the music, which is selected solely on the whim of the DJ. The music is highly unpredictable, with some nights hosting a six-hour Can marathon, and others treated to Metal Machine Music followed by a recitation of the Quran. And let’s not forget Progtoberfest! Occasionally live musicians make unadvertised appearances, and past “secret shows” have included The Residents, Nurse With Wound, Einstürzende Neubauten, Renaldo and the Loaf, Adrian Belew, Crash Worship, Tri-Cornered Tent Show, John Zorn, and Archie Shepp. As one might imagine, this night is not popular with Sarnath’s usual clientele, but House of Sound regulars are fanatically dedicated, and it helps keep Dieter happy. Additionally, some of the secret shows have become the stuff of underground legend, including the time Devo arrived as a Devo cover band, or Sonic Youth improvised until dawn with Yoko Ono.
Every Thursday—No Theme
Thursday nights at Sarnath are unthemed, and represent the club in its most neutral state. The Nave is commonly played by a local band, house favorites being the Lords of Chaos, Room 237, The Treatment, Goes Cube, Frauke, The Ulthar Cats, The Stink, The Eclipsers, The Faveolate Collosi, and those timeless psychedelic Satanists, Burn Witch Burn.
Every Friday—Trixi Friday
Similar to Thursdays, Friday nights at Sarnath have no special theme, but tend to be wilder, and customarily feature DJs instead of live music. For lack of a better name, these nights have been dubbed “Trixi Fridays,” after Sister Beatrix Freitag, the German nun who was flung to her death during a failed exorcism. (Older regulars still call these nights “Sister Fridays,” after a failed attempt in the eighties to impose a religious theme on Friday nights.) The music varies from floor to floor, with techno, disco, and house in the Nave, industrial in the Black Corridor, and hip hop, electronica, hardcore, and heavy metal in the Madhouse.
Every first, second, and third Saturday—Reaver’s Ball
Saturday nights at Sarnath are a treat for the freaks, who come out in droves for the Reaver’s Ball. Always revolving around a theme—“Barbarella Bash,” “Skeleton Key Party,” and “Victorian Vampires” are a few recent examples—the Reaver’s Ball routinely features live music, with acts such as The Voluptuous Horror of Karen Black, Coil, Sleep Chamber, GWAR, Shat, The Electric Hellfire Club, The Extra Action Marching Band, and The Impotent Sea Snakes being popular favorites. A good Reaver’s Ball also features freak shows, fire-eaters, circus performers, and the kind of performance art that makes Re/Search magazine sit up and drool.
Every fourth Saturday—Sarnath Saturnalia
On the last Saturday of the month, Sarnath throws a blow-out Reaver’s Ball called the Sarnath Saturnalia, where Spiral and company pull out all the stops. These parties are the most crazy, unpredictable, and decadent events in the City, and patrons must be on the guest list to attend. (Sarnath regulars are always on the list.) Provocatively themed, appropriate dress is mandatory for Saturnalia, and the Cainite/human ratio is at its most fearsome. Certain Saturnalias have become legendary, such as “Lady Godiva’s Ride,” a night when the whole crowd convulsed into an orgy; “Kill Your Darlings,” when guests were invited to dress up as their favorite celebrities and ritualistically murder each other using squirt-guns and rubber knives; and most notoriously, “Blood Dollhouse,” where the Sabbat lost their self-control and painted the Madhouse with human blood, killing a dozen mortals and requiring the largest round of Dominations and payoffs in the history of the Gotham Sabbat.
Every first Sunday—Closed
Sarnath is always closed the Sunday following a Saturnalia. This allows the Cainites to rest, and provides time for the daytime crews to clean up the mess.
Every second and fourth Sunday—No Theme
Typically the slowest night of the week, Sunday nights at Sarnath are similar to Thursdays, and represent a “regular” night at the club. Bands may be booked, but overall the energy level is subdued, particularly after a successful Reaver’s Ball.
Every third Sunday—Sunday Mass
Every third Sunday of the month is Sarnath’s “vampire” night, a goth party ironically hosted by the human Ruth Addams. Larger than Mother’s former “Long Black Veil,” Sunday Mass attracts a similar crowd, but includes genuine Cainites and a few dozen blood dolls. While the camp levels are pretty high—Ruth makes sure the club is stocked with fake coffins and rubber bats—many Cainites view this event as an invitation to feed openly on the dance floor, as long as they refrain from making any kills. That’s reserved for Saturnalia.
Sources & Notes
Sarnath was first uploaded to New York By Night in 1995, and was extensively revised during the July 2018 update. I corrected typos, made personnel adjustments to match the revised Sarnath Coven, and fleshed out the Tower, the Madhouse, and the Black Corridor. The Catacombs were expanded considerably, and I added a few parties to Sarnath’s calendar.
The original inspiration for Sarnath came from an actual New York nightclub called the Limelight, which I first visited in 1995 for a Hawkwind concert. A few Philadelphia clubs also provided inspiration, mainly Club Evolution, The Bank, and The Asylum. White Wolf’s early sourcebook, The Succubus Club, provided additional ideas.
Though I now find it hard to believe, I rather enjoyed clubbing, and frequented many goth and industrial nights at places like Limelight, MotherNYC, and Club Evolution. This is probably why Sarnath remains blissfully stuck in a pre-millennial twilight of techno, Vari-Lites, and drugs that were actually smoked, not vaped. Oddly enough, after the Limelight temporarily closed, it re-opened with a room designed by H.R. Giger. As my fictional Sanctum predated the Limelight’s Giger room by several years, it’s often caused me to wonder—was this an example of life imitating art, or are the types of people willing to profane an old church just naturally into things like Penis Landscape?
In the real world, the corner of Amsterdam and 86th Street is occupied by West Park Presbyterian. However, Sarnath is not modeled on this church. My fictional St. Sebastian is larger, set deeper into the block, and extends much farther towards Columbus Avenue. Additionally, I doubt the good folks at West Park Presbyterian throw monthly Saturnalias! (Although they do host a corn maze, coincidentally using the Pennsylvania company that got its start near my own birthplace. Hmmm…what could go wrong in a corn maze?)
Finally, I do not endorse drinking any Black Light Coffees. Especially not the decaf ones!
Many of the images used in this piece incorporate stained glass panels designed by the great Irish artist, Harry Clarke, who I have thoughtfully transformed into a Sabbat Toreador. The flyer for the Reaver’s Ball uses one of Clarke’s illustrations for Goethe’s Faust. The Sarnath banner from the original New York By Night is located below, and incorporates stained glass windows designed by Marc Chagall.
Appendix: Archived Material
Other Sarnaths
Sarnath was the most popular piece on New York By Night, and was translated into several different languages and published in a few gaming magazines. While many of these have vanished into obscurity, during my July 2018 revision, I located two “alternate” Sarnaths, which I include for possible amusement.
The German Sarnath (NSFW)
Published by Deutsche Rollenspiel Index, this magazine feature is a German translation of the original 1995 Sarnath page, with illustrations by Walter Fröhlich. I must add, his Teutonic rendition of Sarnath seems a trifle, um… sexier than my own version. Veronica Tryst’s Annunciation window and the “Adam and Eve” angels are given decidedly pornographic spins, and Spiral looks way out of my league! While I remain delighted by Fröhlich’s sexier Sarnath, in my mind, Malachi’s club is campier and more Grand Guignol. I’m not sure I’d make it past the Vestibule of this Sarnath, even if Ruth Addams is my imaginary girlfriend.
Dagon’s “The Sarnath Club”
One of my online pals during the nineties was a fellow named Dagon who ran his own vampire site. Dagon created an alternate Sabbat club he called “The Sarnath,” complete with additional staff members, new rooms, and complicated magical defenses. Unfortunately, Dagon’s site is no longer online, but I still have his maps. They are considerably more detailed than my poor efforts, but depict a radically different floorplan.
Links
Below is the “Links” section to the original Sarnath, which I’ve included for its nostalgia value. Because most of these clubs and stores are long closed, I’ve replaced their direct links with Wikipedia entries to help provide some flavor.
Original Preface
Since the inception of Sarnath in 1995, I have received many requests asking about similar nightclubs in New York City. Indeed, more than one poor soul has mistakenly asked my for the address and phone number of Sarnath itself, believing they could drop in when they came to the neighborhood. Alas, Sarnath is fictional, but there are a few similar places in New York that might please clubbing visitors. I will also provide a few links to sites relating to Sarnath and its patrons or decor.
The Limelight—The original inspiration for Sarnath was this Chelsea club in New York, built in an old Episcopal church on Sixth Avenue and 20th Street. (Call 212-807-7780 for details.) If you check out this site, be warned that Sarnath is much larger than the Limelight, and in a very different style of church.
ZenWarp—The Limelight’s goth-fetish night, ZenWarp is a must for any adventurer seeking a good time with lots of rubber and make-up.
MotherNYC—A delightful little club that once haunted the meatpacking district, Mother had a menu of goth nights, vampire balls, and cyberfetish extravaganzas. Although the club is now closed, MotherNYC still runs some parties at other locales….
Religious Sex—A lovely store in the East Village, and a fictional business ally with Sarnath.
Giger’s Official Site—Homepage for H.R. Giger, the artist Malachi commissioned to design the Sanctum.
Furniture from the Giger Bar—This page displays pieces from the original Giger Bar, and gives a taste of the Sanctum’s interior.
Catholic Encyclopedia—So you can look up some of the architectural terms I so terribly abuse! (Is it a narthex, a porch, a vestibule, or a foyer?)
Original Description of Malachi
Archbishop of New York, Malachi is the owner of Sarnath, and spends a lot of his free time roaming its floors. During these times he rarely employs his monk’s robes or Tzimisce-warped features, but prefers his “human” appearance, that of a pale figure in a black Versace suit, a shock of red hair falling over his luminescent green eyes. While Sister Lilith disdains interacting with the patrons of Sarnath, Malachi truly enjoys prowling the club, and often takes great pains to ensure that his guests are having a good time. He may often be seen standing on a catwalk above the dance floor, his thin lips quivering with an ironic smile and his pale hands tapping the railing to the throbbing beat of the music.
Author: Great Quail
Original Upload: October 1995
Last Modified: 25 July 2018
Email: quail (at) shipwrecklibrary (dot) com
PDF Version: [Coming Soon]