Play@YSDC

When the man sees Delores level her gun, he skids to a stop. Behind him, Dex's figure seems to ripple, as if the pavement is radiating heat, though the air is still.

With an audible whumpf!! the air is driven from the man's lungs and his body bends backwards as if hit from behind by a considerable mass traveling at speed. blood spurts from the juncture of his neck and shoulder and he is borne past Delores and into an alleyway. As he passes Delores, his feet drag along at such speed that the toes of his shoes scuff, then shred on the cobbles. As he passes, Delores can hear muffled footfalls, reminiscent of a galloping pony, and a heavily panting breath.

Dex reaches her side as shrieks and growls begin to sound from the alley.

[Stability check, please, TN 2.]

Dex arrives beside Delores. He wonders what the hell is going on and where he is.

1d6=2

Delores screams as the man is dragged past her by whatever invisible spectre, turns and desperately grabs ahold of Dex, her fingers digging like iron talons into his arms.

Delores stability check. (1d6=3)

OOC,Delores loses 1 Stability,dropping her to 0.

As Delores clings to Dex and he realizes that she is wearing the mask from the cult priestess, there is a skirl of pipes and a rattle of drums, commencing a discordant march reminiscent of the wild music heard in the deep cellars of the cult stronghold. Massive gates slam open down the street, disclosing an ugly and gaudy temple from which a host of strange creatures march out. Some are large and bloated, others gaunt and wizened, dark-skinned satyrs and leaping moon-beasts are scattered through the crowd and shambling zombies, but there are also other unknown horrors like the grotesque figures in a painting by Bosch or Beughel. Some of the procession play instruments, some wave banners; others wear masks (you hope they are masks) and elaborate costumes; still others push carts laden with mewling and disturbing cargoes (that you cannot bring yourselves to scrutinize too closely). Mercifully, the leaders are cloaked in a fog that clings to them, obscuring their forms and faces.

The parade takes several minutes to issue from the gates of the temple, which swing shut behind them. The crowd comes marching, shambling, capering toward Dex and Delores, filling the street completely, striding toward the bridge ahead. The mangled corpse of the Red Hook longshoreman at their feet abruptly springs to its feet, tottering on stiff-legged steps to join the company, his flayed face stretched in a mad grin.

There are several deep doorways and recesses that might shelter Dex and Delores from the sweep of the procession, as well as the alleyway into which the invisible monster carried the cultist. The crunching, rending and moaning sounds that were issuing from there are mercifully masked by the cacophony coming down the street. But the cats trail Delores, setting up a howl almost in harmony with the music of the procession, as though in revenge for her having disturbed their feast.

OOC,Seeing all this provokes a [b]Stability[/b] test (Difficulty 4, 4 points). You can either seek shelter to wait for the procession to pass by ([b]Stealth[/b] test (Difficulty 6), try to reach the bridge ahead of it ([b]Athletics[/b] roll, Difficulty 4), seek an alternate route [b](Outdoorsman[/b] or [b]Streetwise[/b] roll, Difficulty 4), or even risk joining the marchers ([b]Stability[/b] roll, Difficulty 4, 4 points).

"What shall we do, Dex?" cries Delores, hanging onto his arm. "What shall we do?"

OOC,[url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3379098/]Delores sees the parade! (+2 spend) (1d6+2=8)[/url]

Delores Brown wrote:"What shall we do, Dex?" cries Delores, hanging onto his arm. "What shall we do?"

OOC,[url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3379098/]Delores sees the parade! (+2 spend) (1d6+2=8)[/url]

Dex grabs Delores' hand and drags her to an empty doorway, hiding in the shadows hopefully just enough that the members of the parade will see them as nothing more than dim figures in the shadows. He looks at Delores and shakes his head. "First, we find away to get out of here, and second we find that woman who is behind all of this, and bring her to just...no, we put an end to her, once and for all. We have lost too many good friends and I don't plan on losing any more."

He then just hugs Delores for a moment, pulling her close against the approaching cacophony of sound.

OOC,Are the cats following us or are they remaining on the bridge/street? My intention is to pull up our jackets and follow the parade to its destination, since we seem to have no other place to go.

Delores,You are out of Stability points and so cannot make the spend, but the unmodified die roll was sufficient. Dex rolled 6 using 1d6 for Stealth. Delores rolled 7 using 1d6+2 for Stealth.

The cats stalk after Delores and set up a howl in harmony with the music of the procession. Dex notices that the cats have a spine or fin running down their backs. Although their noise draws some attention from those in the procession, none peer closely enough into the shadows to spot Dex and Delores.

As the end of the procession passes, they see Merivana, naked, head hanging down, in the grasp of several goat-legged, dark, bearded men. Glistening organs protrude a bit from the wound in her belly and gore spatters the dusty street as she stumbles along.

The procession marches over the bridge, singing joyful invocations to Gorgo, Mormo, Nyarlathotep and other dark powers. The cats frisk after, stopping occasionally to squabble over bits of Merivana's guts.

GM question before I post/respond

OOC,Dex has been a copper/G-Man for quite a while. Does he think it possible that he can shoot Merivana from where he is standing, or will he need to follow the parade to wherever it is headed? And, does she seem to be a willing participant or not? I'll spend what I need to determine whether rescuing her or simply putting her down is a better option.

Dex realizes that Delores is not quite up for a fight, and he simply helps to hold her upright for the time being. He watches as the source of his misery and why they are trapped in this strange realm be lead down the bridge. The strange cats seems to follow and Dex tries not to pay attention to whatever they are eating. Once the parade is nearly out of sight, Dex will look at Delores. "We have to follow them, see where they are headed. If it comes to it, stop whatever that woman is involved in."

He looks around and then mutters to himself. "However, I wish we knew how to get out of here first."

"How did you get here?" Delores asked Dex. "I just said what she said and... ... next thing I know, I'm here."

Dex and Delores approach a narrow bridge across an expanse of black water, the procession is steadily drawing away and over the bridge. Soon it is out of sight, lost amid the narrow thoroughfares on the other side. On that far side they see the many bone white buildings shining as though made of alabaster and lit from within, resembling famous examples of earthly architecture -- Tower of Pisa, Eiffel Tower, Big Ben, and others, all flickering in and out of sight every few seconds. The one that's a replica of the Chrysler Building draws them like a familiar route to a lost refuge.

The bridge is lit by wrought-iron lanterns of curious design, decorated with silver; green flames burn in their sconces. The waters below are flat and dark, sometimes roiled by thrashing shapes beneath the surface, a sail-like fin or flipper sometimes breaking the surface. Long black ships, bearing lights fore and aft, pass to and fro frequently.

As the two venture onto the bridge, they hear the pipes and drums of another assembly of horrors coming from behind them. This second procession hoves into sight around a bend in the boulevard, led by a gigantic naked and corpulent monster of grotesquely womanly form, moving at considerable speed so that her smaller followers must run to keep pace. She soon squeezes her squamous bulk between the first set of lanterns onto the bridge. Rolls of greenish, luminescent flesh droop over either edge of the bridge as she passes each pair of lanterns.

[A Fleeing test (Difficulty 4) is needed to stay ahead of the second procession. If you fail, you may be devoured by the monster or crushed under her bulk unless you leap from the bridge.]

Delores screams and turns to run, Dex's hand gripped tightly in hers. "Run, Dex!" she implores him, pulling him along.

OOC,Made it. [url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3400074/]Delores attempts to run away without falling over her own two feet. (1d6=4)[/url]

Dex watches in amazement as the large monstrous group comes towards them. The Chrysler Building or whatever passes for it stands as a beacon of potentially something sane. When Delores says run, he runs with her, heading towards that potential idol of sanity in the distance.

OOC,[url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3400457/]1d6+2=7[/url]

As you reach the far end of the bridge ahead of the procession You see one of the strange cats at the mouth of a narrow alley. It’s snuffling at a scrap of tweed fabric stuck to the cobbles with dried blood.

[Roll Evidence Collection, TN 4.]

If Succeed with roll,It looks like the scrap of cloth found in the kitchen of Alphonse Hirt’s apartment.

Dex notices the scrap of cloth.

Roll,[url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3401172/]1d6+2=8[/url]

OOC,[url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3405544/]Delores spots the scrap of cloth... (1d6=6)[/url]

Delores catches sight of the scrap of cloth and the sight of it in Alphonse's apartment flashes into her brain like a flash gun going off. She pulls at Dex's sleeve and points at the cloth. "That was in the apartment!" she cries.

The cat flees, complaining, up the street. Beyond the tacky puddle with its scrap of cloth, a trail of not-quite-dry spatters lead into a narrow alley. It soon branches into a labyrinth of other narrow alleyways, but the trail doesn't end. Around a corner and the latest passage opens into an expansive cemetery of stone sarcophagi and mausoleums, enclosed by high walls, stark in the harsh light that bathes this place. (It would remind you of New Orleans.)

The spatters continue along a flagstone path and down into a small, light-less mausoleum. A fetid stink rises from the inky darkness within.

As Dex and Delores peer down the steps, they hear two sounds. From below comes a groaning, sobbing sound, as of a person in great distress. Behind them, they hear a shuffling movement approaching along the path.

As they follow the trail into the graveyard, Dex uses his free hand to cross himself and pray for divine assistance.

OOC,Calling on a Pillar of Stability to keep him sane enough to see this through.

He looks to Delores, catching his breath. "Are you telling me Alphonse is here with us? Could that be him down below?"
He listens to the approaching shuffling sound. "I say we figure out what is down below. Whoever or whatever it is in trouble."

Dex starts for the steps, unless Delores pulls him elsewhere.

"I don't know, Dex," replies Delores. She glances between the shuffling noise, the mausoleum and the nearby sarcophagi before reluctantly letting herself be drawn down the steps.

After a few steps down there isn't enough light to see your hand in front of your face. As Delores fumbles in her purse for her flashlight, the shuffling sound gets louder, closer. Looking back up to the outside, framed in the doorway, you see --



A stench of ammonia wafts down the stone flags to assail your nostrils.

Are they tracking the blood trail? Your scent? Impossible to know.

Delores screams and drops her bag. Stumbling backwards, she pulls out her shotgun and shoots at the nearest creature.

Dex sees the creatures following and realizes bullets didn't do a whole lot of good. He'll scramble for Delores' bag and flashlight, seeing if her shotgun blasts have any effect before he draws his own weapon with the few remaining bullets.

Delores Shotgun: rolled 2 using 1d6.

There is a curiously flat report and shotgun pellets seem to spew out in slow motion toward the lead beast. But when they strike among the tentacles quivering on its snout, a fine spray of ochre gel splatters. With a low moan, the creature scrambles away, its companion trailing behind.

Once the creatures have been driven away, Dex will continue down into the darkness, using the flashlight to illuminate whatever lays in store for them.
"Damn it, we need to find a way home."

Shaking her head mutely with tears rolling down her face, Delores shuffles down the stairs, her gun still pointing towards the opening should the creatures make a reappearance.

Delores's flashlight flickers on and off (probably the result of being dropped) and the batteries seem to be waning. The stench becomes greater with each step deeper into the darkness. When they are below the level of the surrounding ground, the steps end in a dank stone chamber with a vaulted ceiling. The odor is so great that both are breathing through their mouths to avoid gagging. There are several catafalques bearing shroud-wrapped figures, seeming too long and bulky to be human and apparently the source of the stench.

From deeper in the chamber, behind one of the platforms comes the sobbing sound. Finally, slumped in a damp corner, they find a man in the remnants of a tweed suit. Playing the light on his grimy face, they recognize Alphonse Hirt, or what’s left of him anyway.

His limbs are almost as cold as the stone they rest on. A massive gouge has been raked across his chest and abdomen, but apparently hasn't damaged any internal organs, though his shirt and trousers are plentifully soaked in blood.
he is only semiconscious.

Make a First Aid spend.

Hirt is muttering, just loudly enough to make out some of his words: “...tower ...bridge... late… tell Guy I’ll be late Merivana...Merivana? Where’s Marlene? Moon-bridge… Moon-bridge ...only way back ...Chrysler’s the way...”

"Oh you poor man..." whispers Delores as she kneels down next to Hirt. She reaches out towards him then pauses, not really sure what she can do to help...

OOC,Delores doesn't appear to have any First Aid points to spend.

Dex sees what he can do.

Roll,[url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3418875/]1d6=5[/url]

If that works, Dex will take off his leather jacket, tear up his shirt for bandages, then slip on the leather jacket again.

He then looks at Delores. "Did you see the Chrysler Building? Do you have any idea what a moon bridge is?"

Hirt thrashes feebly as Dex binds his wounds. By the time he's finished, the flashlight is barely glowing, but Hirt looks somewhat stronger and is no longer leaking blood. At least not so freely.

As to the Chrysler Building, you both have seen a pale simulacrum intermittently glowing on this side of the bridge over which you have come.

"I saw it!" cries Delores fervently. "It's not far - is that our way home?"

"According to Alphonese it seems to be. Let me see if I can move him, though it will be slow." Dex picks up the wounded man in a fireman's carry and nods to Delores. "Lead on my dear. Let us get home before anyone else gets hurt and see if Hirt here can be healed better than the job I did."

Dex,Carrying Hirt costs 1 Athletics point.

Retracing their path through the twisting alleyways takes some time, but isn't difficult. As they near the street, they hear the clangor of another procession and pause at the last turning, peeking occasionally to watch the parade until it is past. Delores takes advantage of the halt to reload the shotgun with two of her last three shells. Once the procession is past, Dex shoulders his burden again and they follow.

The white image of the Chrysler Building rises over the lower edifices of the Nameless City, as Dex and Delores follow in the wake of the procession ahead of them. finally, this boulevard bebouches into an enormous white-paved plaza, like several other avenues radiating out into the city. The white tower stands over a basalt crypt, a tomb for something vast and ancient. The plaza around it heaves with the mingled marchers of a score of processions, all raising their music and voices in a cacophony of competing sound.

Dex,Carrying Hirt costs another 1 Athletics point.

From behind comes the din of another procession, forcing them into the plaza on the fringes of the maddened crowd.

GM,I'll carry Hirt until I run out of points or I am just physically unable to move him any further. Honor, protect and serve, all that jazz.

Dex will move quietly, except for the sound of carrying the wounded Hirt. When they get to the square, he looks to Delores. "Do you think there is anyway to get around all of this without being seen?" He reshoulders Hirt carefully. "And we need to hurry. I am not sure how much longer I can carry him."

Abruptly, as the end of the last procession files into the plaza, all sound ceases and the marchers stand expectantly. Almost all eyes are riveted on the entrance to the crypt.

"What do you want to do?" whispers Delores, gripping her shotgun nervously. "Do we make a run for the crypt?"

"I am not sure run is a real option with the wounded guy. I mean I am willing to give it the old college try. But if that turns out to be a trap...I am not sure I'll have the wherewithal to carry him out again."
Dex looks at Delores. "I can't shoot and carry Hirt. My Colt probably has a few rounds left if you need it". He shows her his shoulder holster. "Grab it while we move if the situation warrants. Which I guess means we run for it and hope we are right."

Delores takes the shoulder holster and shrugs it on, getting it right on the second attempt. She cinches the straps tight, wriggling her shoulders to get comfortable. The gun is heavier than expected even though she's been toting the sawn-off around.

She takes the final spare shell for the shotgun and demurely tucks it in her blouse where she can get it in a hurry, fastens her handbag tight and shifts it to her back where it won't get in the way. She picks up the shotgun and swallows hard. "I'm ready," she said, "As I'll ever be..."

As Delores maneuvers the shoulder rig, Dex becomes aware that some of the procession members have turned and are staring at them. The first to look, call the attention of others and awareness spreads in a ripple through the crowd. There is no apparent animosity in the crowd, just curiosity. As Delores finishes her adjustments, Dex realizes that she is still wearing Merivana's mask.

The mob begins to shift and shuffle, gradually opening a pathway through their ranks to the entrance of the crypt. All watch Delores and Dex in silence.

"I-I think this might be our chance," murmurs Delores, looking up at Dex. "Let's move before they realise I'm not her!" Delores waits for Dex to lift Hirst, then slowly makes her way towards the crypt.

Dex picks up Hirt with a grunt of effort, and follows slowly. "If you have to run for it, go. I'll do my best to catch up."

OOC Delores & GM,I reread what I wrote, and Delores taking the shoulder holster is not what I meant lol. Actually I wanted her to grab the pistol from the holster if necessary, but this will do. I actually think Dex wouldn't really care at this point. Though he is going to have a serious talk with Delores when this is done with...over dinner and drinks. :)

Delores in the mask and Dex carrying Hirt proceed through the mass of creatures as the passage is opened for them. Behind them, the crowd fills in again. In moments they have passed from the open plaza through the portal into the chill of the crypt itself.

The crypt is huge and mostly empty, the black basaltic blocks rising around a space as big as the main concourse of Grand Central Station. Great groins of stone curve to a huge opening far overhead. As the processions march in, the space begins to fill and Dex and Delores are pressed forward until they are against a low coping surrounding the vacant space beneath the opening. Looking up, they can see the image of the Chrysler Building flickering slowly in time with a slow beat of the many drums carried by the marchers.

It seems impossible, but eventually all of the various processions are packed within the crypt. The air is ripe with a dozen unpleasant odors and humid with the exhalations of those entities that seem to breathe. Hundreds of flutes and pipes begin to twitter and to wail and a muttering chant arises.

An elongated and attenuated creature at least eight feet tall leaps onto the coping. A sheer black shroud cloaks its phosphorescent limbs and torso without really concealing them. Its tittering, voice seems weirdly feminine, as do its willowy movements, though it is devoid of any sexual characteristics. It begins to dance upon the rim of the coping, cavorting lewdly, lasciviously as it makes the circuit. The drums begin to beat faster, louder.

It comes to where Dex and Delores are standing, pressed against the stone by the crush that fills the space. Bending down to loom over their heads it wriggles obscenely with obscene gestures as though to mock their presence. With a cackle, it snatches the mask from Delores's face and gives a hoot of triumph as it slaps the metal visor onto its own sketchy face. The crowd roars its approval and the thing capers off as the music and drums are joined by a chant from a thousand throats.

Overhead, the pale image of the Chrysler Building begins to flicker faster, in time to the frenzied beating of the drums. The moon-tower flickers in time to the pounding music of the drums. The space bounded by the coping also flickers and darkens and somehow seems to drop away.

Dex whispers to Delores. "Is there anyway up there?" He also turns over his shoulder to Hirt. "If you know anything, now is the time to fill us in."
He looks about at the crowd. "Normally I'd say let that thing have both barrels, whatever it is, but I am not sure if that wouldn't mean our doom." Dex looks about for a way to get up to the portal or if simply closing his eyes and wishing he were home will work. He'll do that as a last resort, suspecting it won't do anything.

[sub]"iytahyacthyim"[/sub] mutters Alphonse Hirt from behind Dex's back.

"What was that?" Dex repeats. "Is that a key or something? Help me out here."

Delores touches Hirt's cheek gently. "What was that?" she asks quietly, trying to ignore the creeping crescendo of noise. "Is that a word to get us outa here?"

Hirt twists his head around to look Delores in the eyes. "Can he put me down?" he asks, gasping for breath a bit, "This hurts."

As Dex eases Alphonse to a standing position, still supporting him with an arm around his shoulders, Dex's jacket is a bit bloodstained and Hirt's bandages are leaking a bit.

"I'm Al Hirt... I went home from here before..." deeep breath "...It's almost time." His head droops forward a bit, then lifts again to peer at them, "We have to wait for three sacrifices. Then we leap into the void, saying the words.

"Iyt-a-hy-a Cth-yim." He repeats it three times, so they can imitate it to his satisfaction as the cacophony of sound washes over them.

The worshipers are dancing and leaping in a frenzied manner. Across the open space, they can see the longshoreman hoisted onto the coping, his arms jerking spasmodically. Nearby an Oriental man is steadied on the threshold, his arms and legs held fast, his head whipping his queue from side to side as he screams.

On a different section Merivana's nude form, her lower body and thighs slick and crimson-stained from Delores's shotgun blast is lifted over the head of the crowd. Her head twists this way and that and she is screaming something that the noise drowns out.

The nude figure wearing Merivana's mask dances and capers around the rim. It reaches the longshoreman and pantomimes indecently sexual actions upon him to the rhythm of the pounding drums, as all other sound falls away.

Merivana's eyes find Hirt and Dex and Delores and she fixes them with a hateful glare.

Delores stares back at Merivana defiantly. "They'd better kill her," she says through gritted teeth. "If they don't, I will."

"Delores, can I have my pistol back? Just the pistol. When we are headed back...if she isn't dead, I'll do my best to kill her before we leave."
He looks at Hirt. "Anything else you can tell us about all this, Mr Hirt? Other than having to say the word and waiting for three people to die so we can get home?"
Dex doesn't look very happy about all this...but on the other hand, the faster he can get out of here the better.

Hirt turns bleak eyes to Dex. "Boost me up," he rasps.

At that moment all sound stops in the crypt. Into the void of silence comes a whisper, a whistle, then a roar. A thousand creatures hold their breath (those that breathe). A single drum booms like a heartbeat as the abomination wraps long tapering fingers about the neck of the longshoreman. A low groan issues from his tortured face.

The roar is wind tearing through the space. As they teeter on the rim of the coping, Dex and Delores look up and see a white, pulsating tunnel twisting slightly as it stretches as though to infinity. A mere glimpse of sapphire blue winks at its end.

Looking down, there is no longer any floor below them, just the inky depths of space broken only by a few scattered stars.

The wind rips from the darkness below to the brightness above.

With a quick twist of its torso, the phosphorescent thing whips the longshoreman into the void!

He hangs, suspended for a moment as the wind tears at him. Then with a sickening sound he is torn apart to bloody shreds and then to mere atoms, a red mist that whirls away up the white tunnel.

Delores pulls the pistol from the shoulder holster and squeezes it into Dex's hand.

"They're not doing this for our benefit though, are they?" she says worriedly, "So what are they going to do once the 'tunnel' is there?". She knows 'tunnel' is the wrong word but right now can't think of anything better.

"Jump into it and hope for the best. I am not sure what else to do. Unless you have any better ideas?"
Dex held the pistol in one hand and did his best to support Hirt with the other. "If this doesn't work, someone is going to suffer a very messy end. All I want is a goddamned steak dinner and a nickle beer at Flannigans. Okay, a whole pitcher of beer at Flannigans."

Delores thinks for a moment. "No," she replies shortly, "No I don't."

She looks at Dex steadily."Is that a table for two at Flannigans?" she asks.

He looks at her and smiles. "I wouldn't have it any other way. And I'll even buy you your own pitcher."
He moves slightly to look outside at the surging crowd and the mayhem that is taking place. "It won't be long, I think."

The tittering creature dances its way around to the Asian man and gathers him into a close embrace, then kisses him. The man’s body begins to writhe then to thrash. The thing’s head wrenches back in a spray of blood as the man screams in pain, blood pouring from his mouth. The thing turns its head and spits a glob of flesh into the void – a tongue torn out at the root.

With one hand, it lifts the man, kicking and waving his arms, into the rushing wind. His body soars a bit and then shreds into tatters and gobbets.

The crowd yells in frenzy as the phosphorescent creature sashays around to Merivana. Merivana’s shouted protests are submerged in the noise of the mob, as the celebrant mocks her with a willowy pantomime, its hands raised to the gold mask.

Suddenly Merivana whips her head around to stare at Delores, Dex, and Alphonse with a look of burning hatred. She launches herself into the space shouting so loudly that the phrase "Iyt-a-hy-a Cth-yim!" is audible despite the din. Her face takes on a triumphant expression and the crowd falls silent as she rises on the wind.

But then she begins to… unravel as her fingers and toes spin away followed by her arms and legs. Her intestines unspool into the void, then her veins and arteries, then her other organs. Her spinal column whipe about and then her brain explodes.

Drums throb as the creature turns its mask to the three travelers and begins a slow, sensual glide toward them.

“Time to go,” says Hirt, toppling headfirst off the coping, "Iyt-a-hy-a Cth-yim."

Delores grabs Dex's hand and cries out, "Iyt-a-hy-a Cth-yim!"

Dex, not too sure after seeing Merivana's head explode, yet taking hold of Delores' hand he too cries out, "Iyt-a-hy-a Cth-yim!"

Not just the wind, but other forces tug at their bodies as the three New Yorkers float, suspended by the counterpoised power of the Moon-Tunnel. As they spin slightly widdershins, they see the phosphorescent priest(ess) rage at them. Several of the dog-like creatures leap onto the coping, along with a score or more of other twisted beings. The drumming hammers off-rhythm and the voices gibber and cry discordantly.

Then the leader's arm stretches forth, farther than seems physically possible, and seizes Hirt's ankle!

The man moans, "No. No, no. Noooo..." as he is pulled back toward the rim. He stretches out his hands toward Dex and Delores, his face a mask of anguished pleading.

(Is the leader the priestess, grasping Hirt's ankle, Dex will try to shoot them in the face. If its not the priestess, Dex will try to shoot them in the face.)

Holding his .45 as steady as possible, Dex tries to take aim at whatever is holding Hirt back. "Three shots left...three shots left..."
Dex, still holding Delores' hand, makes a pray to the Almighty and let's out his breath to steady his aim.

Dex's shot after praying to God...
1d6+2=7

Delores tries to swing her shotgun to bear on the leader but is being buffeted by the wind. She flinches as Dex fires, twisting to see the results.

Dex's bullet can be seen as it leaves the barrel in a shower of sparks, when it has spun about an inch from the muzzle, it accelerates to normal velocity and drills through the center of the gold mask.

The figure ripples and its entire body transforms. Where a willowy, phosphorescent creature of indeterminate gender wearing a gold mask stood is now a hulking, steaming mass of something like jaundiced flesh, rugose and squamous. The hand grasping Hirt's leg is suddenly a barbed tentacle, one of several that sprout randomly from its squirming surface. In the midst of its inchoate form is the mask, which seems more its face than a disguise. From the hole in the mask's center, a wisp of green smoke becomes a billow.

Pandemonium seizes the crowd, whether at seeing their priest's true form or at seeing it injured, or both, is impossible to say. The drumming ceases and the Moon-Tunnel begins to fade. A cold wind lashes the assembly. Several of those standing on the tunnel's rim topple, some back into the crowd, others forward to be rendered into red mist. There is a general stampede for the egress.

The tentacle wrapped around Hirt's ankle tightens its grip and the man cries out soundlessly in pain as scarlet drops of blood whirl away into the void, quickly becoming a stream as blood vessels are pierced by the barbs.

OOC,I think that calls for another Stability roll, Difficulty 4, 6 Points. Delores is at 0 Stability, Dex is at 3.

Dex screams in frustration as the thing appears. He gathers what remains of his control and breathes deeply.

Stability roll,1d6=5

However,barely hanging on to his wits, he tries one last shot at the tentacle.
"Please God, make this work." He glances over at Delores, his free hand entwining in hers, not willing to let go.
He shoots at the tentacle restraining Hirt's leg.

Hirt's last chance shot,1d6=4

OOC,Oh, arse....! [url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3467424/]Delores sees the unmasked priestess. (1d6=1)[/url]

Delores sees the creature transform into something beyond human comprehension before her eyes and she opens her mouth and screams... ...

Blasted by what she has just seen, Delores screams and claps her hands over her eyes. The shotgun flies out of her hands. Then she is just...gone, Dex's hand clinging to hers encircles nothing.

Delores,Stability drops to -6, causing a 2 point loss of Sanity.

As before, the slug from the .45 spins from the pistol with agonizing slowness, then whips away, severing the tentacle., which spews a thick cloud of green smoke. The monster seems to visibly deflate. The tough-minded detective blinks and Hirt is no longer present.

A moment later, Dex himself is flying down the rapidly flickering tunnel as it seems to shrink around him. His eyes leak tears from the velocity of his passing and it's not like flying at all. No, he's falling!

But then it's like floating, like a feather on a gentle draft. There is suddenly a bottom to the tunnel, to the shaft, rising to meet him more quickly than he likes.

Dex looks frantically around for Delores. He sees the floor/ceiling come racing for him.
Tucking into the best position to either roll or spread out the impact, he will do his best to minimize whatever damage might happen.
Especially to his already still wounded arm...which was wrenched when Delores was sucked out of his grip.

OOC,The pain, I am sure, will hit anytime soon now...

Gaffer wrote:Blasted by what she has just seen, Delores screams and claps her hands over her eyes. The shotgun flies out of her hands. Then she is just...gone, Dex's hand clinging to hers encircles nothing.

Delores,Stability drops to -6, causing a 2 point loss of Sanity.

OOC: Um, gone where?

Check Return to Red Hook.