The sleepy seaside town of Innsmouth harbors a dark secret. The diabolical Deep Ones have infiltrated and taken over, led by the Marsh family. With the aid of Mother Hydra, they plan to bring forth Quachil Uttaus, which will spell doom for us all unless a small band of unlikely heroes can uncover and thwart their schemes.
ooc,Silas spends 2 movement points and uses his "Able Seamen" ability, also, he picks up the Clue token at Devil Reef.
Silas dips his oar in the sea on alternate sides of the kayak, one arm raised and then the other, he propels himself forwards with strong mechanical strokes. He rounds a headland of slate cliffs--that are populated by thousands of gulls--and surges into Innsmouth bay. Across Innsmouth town he sees the smoke stacks of Marsh Refinery belching out a poisonous looking saffron vapour.
White caps signal rocks beneath the surface and Silas notices several buoys--markers for lobster pots--surrounding the reef. His arms are beginning to ache so he carefully floats closer so as to grasp hold of a rope and rest before he pushes on to Innsmouth dock. Silas wipes the sweat from his eyebrows, blinks, and stares hard: the buoys have all disappeared.
Turn 3 Movement
Independence Square -> General Store
ooc,Patrice spends 4 movement points.
Patrice breathes deeply as she strides through Arkham, she tries not to think about all of the troubling events that have occured, it is as if the entire world has gone mad: she needs some stability. She smiles sardonically: if everyone is crazy except her, it may mean that she is the crazy one; now there's a happy thought.
The General Store is the place to let off stress, Patrice browses the shelves: matches, tobacco, sugar, primus stove, etc. She glances down one aisle: another customer, but she certainly is not a resident of Arkham: the brown jacket and man's shirt. On an impulse Patrice approaches the woman, switching her violin case from right hand to left hand, and extends her arm for a handshake.
OOC,[b]Hank[/b] evades the Dhole. [url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2931235/]Evade check (4 dice + 1 [Blackest Night] - 1 [Dhole]) to slip past the Dhole (4d6.hits(5)=2)[/url]. He spends 3 movement points going to the Unnamable.
Hank walks with his father out of the train station and back into the Northside streets. It is pitch black out, a stygian and moonless night. With the heavy cloud cover overhead, not even the stars are visible. That doesn't stop them from hearing, however. A loud, slimy, squelching sound comes from down the street.
"What in tarnation is that?" asks Hank.
"I dunno, but it's darn big," says Pa. "Too big for that shotgun to be of much help, even. Let's get out of here."
Both of them slip away from the source of the sound. Soon they have reached the relative safety of the Merchant District. Whatever it was has not followed them.
"Now what?" asks Hank.
His father points to an old, decrepit house ahead of them. "That there house is supposed to be haunted or something," he says. "Those old journals mentioned it."
"Yeah, I remember. What's it called, Pa?"
"It's called 'The Unnamable.'"
"Well, if that's it's name, it's not really unnamable, is it?"
Tabs wrote:
"How do you do, Patrice, Patrice Hathaway."
Ursula looks up in alarm, lost in thought at the counter of pen knives, and gives a flicker of a smile. She extends her own hand as well, "Pleased to meet you, I'm Ursula". She looks her up and down, "A musician I assume? I'm afraid to ask where you've been playing however....there's a slight odour of....barnyard animals." She gives an apologetic smile. "It must be him," and thumbs at the fellow in front of her, a big burly fellow with suspenders and farmboots.
Trixie[trik-see] (n) : Name derived from an original character played on Yog Def: One who loves chit chat threads and dramatic roleplaying moments
"'The odour'-- Ah yes, it's that yokel--disgusting people." Patrice shakes her head a little. "My manners! Ursula, delighted to meet you. I'm in a bit of a tizzy this week, so I forget myself." Patrice straightens her posture, glancing at her violin case. "I play for the Boston Philarmonic--well anywhere where they need a soloist, actually! And you, Ursula, what do you do?"
Roland, Malone and that damn dirt monkey sat on the steps of the Historical society moping like a bunch of fat ballerinas. The door was locked and Roland had spent the good portion of a few minutes knocking.
Do you hear that sir?
Roland turned his ear towards the door and heard the most death curdling scream ever to escape all the hells there ever were.
Your damn right I heard that Malone. C'mon!
Roland kicks open the door to the Historical Society and draws his gun. Standing no more than six feet in front of the detective stood a nasty ghoulish creature with dead yellow eyes. It raised a gnarly claw and then poised itself to spring. Before Roland could even fire a shot, the business end of a broken meter stick shot through the back of the ghouls's head hurtling one of its dead yellow eyes over Roland's shoulder. The monkey quickly picked up the eye and ate it.
Roland, now mostly covered in decrepid brain bit and vitrous humor, was shocked to find the curator of the historical society wipe the ghoul from his ruler and immediately assume a hard tone of authority.
Take it and go!
What!
Take this and go!
But....
We're closed
Wait.....
Take it and go!
The curator backed Roland out of the Historical Society thrusting the corpse of the Ghoul onto him as he slammed the door and locked them out leaving Roland, Malone, the monkey and a rotting corpse completely aghast.
ooc: Lucky Cigarette Case - Dark Cloak - .18 Derringer. Ursula buys the .18 Derringer for $3.
General Store: You try talking to the elderly locals gathered around the potbellied stove playing checkers, but you gain nothing but stares and a few befuddled grunts for your trouble. Apparently they don't like outsiders. No encounter.
Devil Reef: The stars above the water seem larger than you've ever seen them before. The skyscape seems strangely alien and threatening. Lose 1 Sanity.
General Store (Innsmouth): You notice that some of the locals have an odd, fish-like quality to them that sets your teeth on edge. Lose 1 Sanity.
OOC,[url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2942155/]Combat check (Fight 3 + 4 [Shotgun] + 1 [Cultist] = 8 dice) fighting the Cultist, Round 1 (8d6.hits(5)=1)[/url]. [b]Hank[/b] claims the Cultist as a monster trophy.
Hank and his father enter the creepy, mysterious old house. As they look around the decaying living room, a man in a black hooded robe slips in behind them through the front door. They whirl around in surprise.
"Ia! Ia!" chants the robed stranger. "Cthulhu Fhtagn!" He draws a sharp, twisted dagger from the folds of his robes and advances.
"You talk funny, mister," says Hank.
"Shoot him, son!" urges Pa.
Hank raises his shotgun and pulls the trigger. The echoing blast strikes the man full in the chest, knocking him back and leaving him a bloody mess on the floor. "I got him, Pa!"
"You sure did, Hank. That's one of the ruffians who tied me up."
The Veil is Strong environment
While this card is in play, it takes one more open gate than usual to awaken the Ancient One.
Esoteric Order of Dagon, gate: The City of the Great Race
Doom token added to doom track.
Monsters: Deep One, Cultist
Movement: Dhole -> Downtown
Clue: Devil Reef, South Church
Patrice gains 1 Clue token from her "Ominous Dreams" ability.
I could feel the gaze of some unknown eye upon me, and the hair on my neck prickled. Inexplicably, I felt as though I had been judged and found wanting.
OOC,[b]Hank[/b] increases his Speed from 3 to 4 and decreases his Sneak from 3 to 2.
"What do we do now, Pa?" asks Hank.
"We get the heck outta here, that's what," says Pa. "This guy had pals, and if they're lurking around here they'll have heard the shot."
"Okay, let's go quick. But where do we go?"
"Let's head to the woods south of town. Those books mentioned that there are a lot of strange goings on there. Besides, it'll be a good place to hide out."
"How come?"
"Because it's dangerous, and nobody's dumb enough to follow us in there."
ooc,Roland raises hs luck to 3 and lowers his Lore to 2
Sitting on the steps of the Historical society, holding the rotting corpse of a ghoul, Roland sighged deeply. He let the dead thing slump to the ground before lighting a cigarette.
Something is definitely going on in this town Malone...
Malone nods feeding the monkey a few peanuts he had stashed in his pockets.
If it were just a few tweaker frat kids messing around in the lab I could deal... but did you see the size of that worm!
I wish I hadn't sir...
Roland lifts up the arm of the ghoul and lets it slap down against itself with a sickening "SCLICK!" sound.
And what the hell is this thing? I think its time we went to confession Malone....
The Chrurch then sir?
Your damn right the church Malone.... and give me one those peanuts.
ooc,Reading King in Yellow: spending 2 movement points and [url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2950946/]Lore (-2) check (1d6=2)[/url], fail. [url=http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/2950948/]Combat check vs Cultist (1d6=3, 1d6=3, 1d6=6, 1d6=5)[/url]; Cultist taken as a trophy.
Patrice exits the General Store, pulling the shop door closed behind her, and immediately begins thumbing through the thick book she got from Ursula; apparently it is a play: The King in Yellow.
"This is the most confounded nonsense!"
Her eyes squint at the print which has odd symbols instead of letters, and the etchings: they are simply childish rubbish. Patrice holds the book closer to her nose—almost covering her eyes—so that she can barely see where she is walking and consequently doesn't notice the figure which she bumps.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I do beg your pardon."
The figure is wearing a dun coloured horsehair cloak, and stares glassily at Patrice's book. Silence.... She laughs nervously. She spots a dilapidated wood sign "Welcome to the Black Cave!" it reads.
"Are you meant to be some kinda troglodyte?"
He snaps to attention, like a stage hypnotist has clicked his fingers in front of his face; the cultist lunges towards Patrice, trying to snatch the book.
"I must have it!"
Patrice is still holding the book up—perched on her chest—when the cultist makes a grab for it; however, possibly because of her recent encounter with the salacious sub-editor at the Arkham Advertiser, she misinterprets the troglodyte's action, believing he is trying to "cop a feel". Smartly, she steps backwards as the cultist performs a comic sweep with his arms in thin air. Rage burns in her mind "How dare he?"; she wallops her violin in between the top of the cultist's thighs, he arches forwards and emits an animal whimper, his contorted face inches from Patrice's face; a gust of bad breath—pork and beans—and spit, blow and dapple into her eyes. The cultist collapses to the ground, cracking his head on a rock as he falls. Patrice reaches out to the prone cultist, but quickly withdraws her hand.
"Sir, I say, sir. Are you all right?"
The hem of the cultists cloak has ridden up to his knees revealing thick calf muscles with a shock of black hair—like fur—growing round his legs. Patrice has a flashback to Fraser's Preparatory School for Young Ladies, herself and Julie Sparks under the bed covers with a torch, giggling over a copy of Men's Health. "Sparky" points out the developed muscles of a young athlete.
"Hey, Pattie, you know why his calf muscle are so fat, don't you?"
"Well, not really, no—lots of exercise?"
“Silly! They say it's from doing you know what."
Patrice is back in the mouth of the Black Cave, she is thirty three years old, has been engaged to be married twice; and now she understands what "Sparky" was alluding to, all those years ago. With a toreador flick of her chin she walks away from the dying cultist.
OOC,[b]Hank[/b] spends 4 movement points going to the Woods. He claims the Clue token, giving him a total of 3.
Hank and his father hurry south through the streets of Arkham, soon reaching the city limits and venturing into the dark and spooky woods. Strange sounds disturb Hank, but they aren't enough to frighten him.
"That's probably just birds," he says.
"I dunno," says Pa. "Birds don't usually chant. I'm pretty sure we weren't followed, but that doesn't mean nobody was here ahead of us. Keep your eyes peeled."
