LEADERSHIP: Deanship
GOVERNMENT: Collegiate
IDEOLOGY: Technocratic
STATE: Stratified
MAGIC: Exceptional
SECTS: Schools
LOCATION: British Library, Museums, Underground

“Scientia potentia est.” – The Erudites seek knowledge above all else, and have organised their society to fit this vision. Residents live primarily in heavily modified tube lines and stations, paved, dug out, with filtered air cycled through. They farm in former parks with enriched soil and temporal fluctuations, and study in the pristine Campus District, the two making up the only above-ground territories of the Erudites. The Erudites are strictly organised, with management and oversight at every level. The necessities of survival are distributed across the whole, but excess housing, perishables, and all research-critical resources are funnelled upwards to the chief researchers and educators of the faction. Society is heavily stratified, but all people have equal access to upwards mobility, all have ownership of their work, and the enhancements made to daily necessities have allowed for far more leisure time than other factions, which of course are encouraged for use in study.
An average person is known as a pupil. These may not be dedicated or ideologically committed to the Erudites, they are simply everyday people that work the fields, or machines, or keep the territory clean and safe. Above them are students. Students are those who have petitioned the colleges for their education, or have otherwise demonstrated aptitude for magic, science, engineering, or agriculture (though magic is prioritised). Many of them make up the internal and external security, or manage workspaces for half of their time, and study the other half. Those in charge of the overall management of society are the peers. They review findings and consider how to best implement the will of those above them, as well as generally being the contact point for students and pupils.
A council of thirteen mentors organise the general direction of society. They are the best and brightest, the main body responsible for education and curriculum. One of these mentors is the dean, who appoints two others as chancellors to advise them. The dean and their chancellors ultimately have final say on contested decisions, and are the de facto leader of the Erudites.
The mentors operate out of the British Library, though most lectures take place in the Museum. Each of the four colleges – Arcana, Mundane, Culturalist, and Floralist – are at liberty to choose their own applicants, and generally the peers in head positions of the colleges are permitted to organise their area of society as they like so long as they do not contravene the direction of the mentors. Further, each college provides three of the mentors to the Erudite Council, not counting the dean.
The College of Arcana stands over the others as the oldest of the four, officially. Its students wear a symbol of an open book with a circular rune on the left page. Their primary aim, now that the colleges have been split following the collapse, is to find new ways to use magic in the moment. Spells, rituals, defences, and magical effects (disease, blessings, curses, fallout) all fall under their purview.
The College of the Mundane, represented by a sixteen-toothed gear with two smaller connected gears inside, makes up the Erudites’ engineering corps. When they do use magic, it is primarily to find new, more efficient ways to manage fuel and pressure, and instead their time tends to be dedicated to machinery, maintenance, and invention. It was the Mundane that made the air filtration system that allows so many to live safely underground.
The College of Culturalism, whose symbol is clock face reading four minutes past eight, is concerned with the study and preservation of history. They are concerned both with Earth and Domus, hoping to understand both fallen worlds so that they can preserve the next. They also typically manage preparations for community celebrations, and oversee the civilian infrastructure more closely.
The College of Floralists, represented by a sprout with a single leaf, puts its effort towards biology. They work closely with the College of Arcana when it comes to the effects of magic on the body, but otherwise completely oversee biological matters. This includes the training of physicians and all crops grown in Erudite territory. Their crowning achievement is the rapid life cycle of plants using an enhanced soil. Most of their members prefer to spend time in the parks rather than the Campus District.
History and Geography

The Erudites trace their history back to a scientific council from before the collapse that expanded to become the foremost authority on magical research in Britain after its isolation. That is, the most authoritative research-focused organisation, as they splintered and left behind a group that went on to found a syncretic faith around the will of magic. Much like their rivals, however, this influence only grew and grew, as magical defences became of paramount importance. From a small group of researchers in the British Library, they expanded outwards, and though the government could not spare the resources to build a new university, they were permitted to use the British Museum and any surrounding academic or government buildings as their headquarters. Over time, this became known as the Campus District, with many college officials taking over residency there.
As the war progressed, the college predicted that Britain would not survive, and so secretly began gathering experts in necessary fields – agriculture, history, engineering – and creating the skeleton of new educational institutions. Officially, the Erudites believe nothing they could have done after the isolation could have prevented further destruction, though detractors do argue they could have preserved London, if not the whole country. Further rumours claim that they only neglected to do so because an attempted coup by college members failed, but those are silly rumours spread by those who cannot adapt to the world as it is. Regardless, when the bombs hit, the Campus District came out completely unscathed, though the environmental damage in the area around it and the winds blowing arcane fallout eventually rendered the surface if not as difficult as anywhere else, then at least close. With an existing plan in hand, scholars of a group calling themselves the Erudites, the college members and leaders, began to leave the district within hours of the collapse. With powerful magic on their side, they carved out tunnels to live in, and protected civilians, who, owing their lives, fell in line without struggle. This exertion of direct magic was not without cost, and left many of the higher echelons of the Erudites unable to perform physical labour due to the toll taken on their bodies. Within two months, Erudite engineers had installed filters to cycle clean air through the tunnels, and long before the stockpiled rations ran out, small plots of land were converted, tested on, and then finally with one last exertion of magic, Regent’s Park was turned into ground more fertile than any other, and Hampstead Heath was captured and planted. With little need to expand surface territory, Erudite scouts spent most of their time searching for survivors to bring back, hidden caches of technology or research, and finding other societies that might threaten them.
Approach to Magic
Magic is a force of the world like any other, and it can be studied. However, like anything volatile it is to be handled by trained professionals. If rifles are not for the general public, then command over flame certainly shouldn’t be. Nuclear power needed engineers, and so too do magical currents. To hear an Erudite say it, magic is not the privilege of the powerful, but the privilege of the educated. Of course, power is a privilege of the educated, too. Specially trained magical doctors work alongside (and increasingly replace) other physicians to attend to the struggles and day-to-day needs of magical kith.
The College of Arcana has the final say on all magical issues, but each of the others could not function without the advancements made in magic. The life cycle of plants is accelerated, machines run on alternate fuels, so much history is lost, and all Domus history is already steeped in magic.
Look and Feel
For the most part, given that shelter is protected enough and small exposures to the unfiltered sun and air do not risk too much damage, Erudites prefer comfortable clothing and amenities, typically from before the Collapse. When working full days in the fields or mills, residents are provided with heavy protective cloaks and breathing apparatus. Those committed to the Erudites, however, are typically adorned in the trappings of old-world high academia. Tweed suits, mechanical watches, and wooden pipes adorn the leather-book touting researchers that make up the Erudite’s higher classes, who themselves make up the representatives. Scouts, who are always students or peers, are given newly made blue protective cloaks or coats that bear their college’s crest and have indication of their rank by either one or two bands just above the hem of the bottom and any sleeves.



Stereotypes
- Survivalists – What? A ragtag bunch of street gangs? Bother me with something more important.
- Evolvers – Childish creatures, mutating themselves without rhyme or reason, and certainly with no scientific rigour.
- Pilgrims – Fools that split our cause for the sake of mumbling canticles. We will be stronger without them
- Traditionalists – Suffering from too much nostalgia, but their society has already collapsed. These are the gasps of a dying empire, and we will succeed them.
- Purists – You shall be burned in our fires, with all fools and reactionaries.
Notable NPCs
The Collector
Dusk Vampire, 109 years old
Dean of the Erudites
The Dean is a controversial figure, alleged to be behind the supposed Campus District Coup on Parliament. Obsessive, reserved, and maybe even secretive, their dedication to the Erudite cause is nonetheless unquestionable. The Collector got their moniker from their extensive set of preserved arcane artefacts back on Domus, some of which has even been maintained from the Exodus. Not just an antiquarian, the Collector sees the value in preserving history and knowledge in material form, lest words rot or become untranslatable, in case memory fails. They consider the Campus District, the Erudites as a whole to be their collection now, and will protect it fiercely, however far-off they can seem.
Sparks Flying Through Copper
Fae, 80 years old
Principal of the College of Mundane
Sparks Flying Through Copper was a practised mechanic long before the Exodus, or, at least long before from her perspective, considering her young age. Once “Motion Over Wood”, she constructed machines over rivers powered by the current and a series of complicated switches and gates even in the heavily magic-dependent society that dominated Domus. When she came to Earth, and discovered readily-available electricity, she didn’t just view it as a move, but an opportunity. Her work has only improved, and rapidly so since then, with her firmly in place as leading – even helping to found – the mechanists, the Mundane College back in the Campus District.
It’s safe to say she’s an eccentric, with a bubbly, excitable attitude that never lessens no matter the situation. It’s as if she is incapable of any sort of banality, like she is constantly electrified.
Matthew Williams
Human, 53 years old
Principal of the College of Arcanists.
To start with, it is important to note that Professor Williams is not, never has been, and never will be a mage. He’s a normal man, with a vague interest in classic sci-fi, on his second marriage, who loves his son dearly and was terrible at teaching him to play football. The fact that he is Principal of Arcana, then, should alone say enough about his skills in the area. He sought to prove himself, demonstrate that mastery is about understanding first, that the surface level of experience is nothing compared to rigorous, broad study. Over the course of ten years, he proved himself again and again, each theory he put forward advancing the course of magical understanding more and more and more. In classes he is kindly, encouraging, and grandfatherly. In meetings, he is brutal and suffers no fools. He likes to dye his hair black, unfortunately his beard grows faster, so the grey roots still come through.
Joanna Who Tends The Grove
Lycan (Wolf), 104 years old
Principal of the College of Floralists
If Joanna were any more of a green thumb, she’d need it amputated. She is a creature of boundless love, and loves to the point of obsession, always looking deeper, deeper, and deeper. So it was that she fell in love with the planet that took her in. She put her efforts to integrating fully, taking a local name, and learning everything there was to know about Earth’s environment. Her students often say she can quote every botanist’s textbook in the archives cover to cover. She’s fond of a rough joke, and of bragging about her ‘young catch’, Professor WIlliams, but shows a delicate tenderness with the natural world around her. A creature of extremes, ‘compromise’ might be a foreign word to her, and she always acts with a full heart.
Abigail Holland
Human, 36 years old
Principal of the College of Culturalists
Holland was a student of history and art when the Exodus happened. She is young, yes, but she is spirited. During the split with the Pilgrim founders, she often found herself in the spotlight for her work in cross-cultural historical studies. Specialising in the depiction of spiritual movements through visual art, it seemed only natural she end up a minor voice on the Pilgrims’ side.
She didn’t. With what has become a characteristic level-headedness, she waited four hours to speak at a conference, took the stand, and laid out her position. Magic was spiritual, yes, but it was also large, chaotic, and unknown, and that wasn’t to be celebrated, but to be changed. After the outcry and the schism, the higher-ups of the Cultural College were decimated, and Abigail put the pieces back together. Young or not, she proved herself capable for the job.