Play@YSDC

Monday May 2nd, 1973 10.30am.
Brichester, England.

Sean turned away from the ruined house and set off back towards the carpark, following the trail they had made on the way there, glad to leave all the nutters behind. The rain had started to come in and, as he walked, water droplets fell from the trees above with what seemed like inerring accuracy, at least as far as the back of his neck was concerned.

From the trees off to his left, a rain-sodden twig snapped, causing him to pause and look around sharply, his heart pounding in case one of Brophy’s creature’s made a reappearance. There was no sign of anyone and after a few moments of terror-filled silence, Sean looked back to the path to see if there was anything ahead. Or was it ahead? He looked back the way he thought he’d come but he couldn’t tell them apart! The distraction had robbed him of his concentration, and now he wasn’t sure which way he had intended to go…

Roll for Tracking or an equivalent skill, please.

[40] = 40
Track 10 d%: [ 40 ] = 40

A dyed in the wool townie, Sean is completely unsuited to the wilderness. As such, he quickly, and literally, loses track of where he is.

Whimpering in fear, he selects a direction by the time honoured method of eenie-meenie-miney-mo, and staggers on.

Sean pushed on through the woods, at times thinking he was following path and at times, utterly lost once more. After half an hour, miserable and soaking wet through, he came to a halt. Looking around, there wasn’t the first clue where he was.

From off to his left, another twig snapped…

Perhaps delving into the darkness with a bunch of loonies was the best option after all…

Trying to control his frantic breathing, Sean whips his head this way and that.

“Hello?” He calls. “Who’s there?”

”Are you alright?” came a voice from behind Sean, causing him to jump around in surprise. A middle-aged woman with prematurely-greying hair and round glasses stood looking at him from about ten yards away. Her face was familiar but it took a few moments to place her - Audrey Taylor, the local librarian, who he’d met at the library a couple of times while researching local history for a series of articles he had written.

”What are you doing out her?” she asked, looking at Sean suspiciously. ”Are you lost?

Sean visibly sags with relief at the sight of Audrey. It takes a few seconds for him to recognise her from his various trips to the library when researching stories, but eventually he answers.

“Yeah, I think I’m very lost! Listen, it’s not safe around here. Do you know the way to the car park?”

Audrey’s brow furrowed. ”Not safe?” she said, looking around her. ”Why on earth wouldn’t it be safe?”

“I’ll explain later, once we’re out of here,” Sean replies, looking around nervously.

[94] = 94
Spot hidden 60 d%: [ 94 ] = 94

Nervously agitated, Sean fails to notice anything out of the ordinary.

”You didn’t answer my question,” said Audrey, folding her arms across her chest. ”What exactly is it you’re afraid of?”

https://i.imgur.com/m7unblg.jpg

“Let’s keep walking and I’ll tell you; but promise me you won’t call the men in white coats when I’ve finished.”

Letting Audrey guide the way, Sean recounts his uncanny experiences, from catching the eye of the investigators in the pub to his hurried departure from the ruined cellar door - monsters and all.

Audrey studied Sean for a moment or two then turned and started walking. It appeared to him that there couldn’t be any plan to her movements as she turned this way and that, seemingly at random, but at least he felt as if he were making some progress.

After what seemed like half an hour, Sean though he recognised the place where he had started this particular leg of the journey, albeit approaching from a different angle. ”This is the old house of Thomas Lee,” she said. ” What is it you wanted here?”

Sean groans when he realises that Audrey has led him back to the ruins.

“I’ve never heard of Thomas Lee. I dunno what they wanted here: they were waffling on about travelling back somewhere - in time or some other crazy nonsense. I just decided to scarper while I could.”

“Look, let’s just get out of here. Whatever they’re up to, it isn’t good.”

A frown creased Audrey’s face. ”Travelling back in time? What do you think this is, an episode of Doctor Who?”

She stepped closer, forcing Sean to take a step back. ”Who are they and what are they doing here?” she asked in a steeely tone.

Sean holds up placating hands.

“Hey hold on a minute, I’ve told you everything I know! Those Americans were asking about this Brophy guy, then we found two unconscious guys and some ambulance driver. Then this ambulance driver turns out to be Brophy apparently. Then we get attacked by monsters and then told to dig through these ruins for a cellar door.”

He shakes his head, disbelieving his own story.

“All they talked about was returning to their own time. That sounds mad, but there it is.”

As Sean looked at her, the colour drained from Audrey’s face. ”Brophy?!” she hissed. ”Brophy is here?! He can’t be! He must have died decades ago!”

“You know as much as I do,” shrugs Sean. “There was summat about taking over bodies; I think he’s supposed to be - I dunno, squatting I guess - in the body of the ambulance driver.”

”A squatter?!” snapped Audrey. ”We’ll have no squatters here!” As she spoke, Sean was reminded of a story he’d covered the year before when some hippies had pitched up in an abandoned farmhouse on the outskirts of town. They had moved on quickly, amid rumours of a violent eviction and a couple of the hippies turning up in A&E with a broken arm and dog bites. No one was willing to talk about it, the pub always going quiet whenever Sean had tried to steer the conversation that way, and the story had faded away in the way that such stories would when no one wanted them to live on.

He blinked away the memory and it occurred to him that Audrey wasn’t looking at him anymore. She was looking past him and Sean realised they weren’t alone. He turned quickly and saw two men behind him - an older, thickset man with angry-looking bull mastiff on a short chain, and a lad in his late teens with greasy hair and wearing an old army combat jacket. Tucked under his arm was a powerful looking air rifle.

”We’ve got another eviction,” she snarled. ”And I think this time we’ll burn the place down so they don’t never come back!”

“Um, Okay…”

Even more perturbed than usual, Sean backs away in alarm; his hands up.

“I’ll leave you to it then. I don’t suppose you could show me the way to the car park before you start, y’know, burning things?”

”What? Have you miss out on the scoop of the year? ‘Witch’s family slaughter ancient foe’ - it’s your duty to tell the local people, so don’t run off.” She laughed dryly, but there was no humour in it.

While the lad with the air rifle guarded Sean, the man with the bull mastiff went to fetch two Jerry cans of fuel. ”Lead on,” she said, indicating to Sean that he was to go first…

Sean rolls his eyes at his continued bad luck.

“Fine…”

Sighing with resignation, he leads them to the cellar door.

Sorry, I should have said that Sean’s been pushed to the front so it’s your lead.

The lad with the air rifle pushed it sharply into Sean’s back. ”After you!” he said, snidely.

“Why me..?” mutters Sean to himself.

“Alright pal, I’m going.” he grumbles, slowly descending the steps.

Air rifle 1d100
Bull mastiff 1d100
Audrey 1d100

Luck 1d100

Forewarned by his previous side scent, Sean was able to descend without mishap. The same however, could not be said for the lad with the air rifle, nor the man carrying the cans of petrol, both of whom stumbled on the way down. There was a ‘phut’ sound and Sean heard something strike the brickwork in the darkness, along with a string of expletives and a sudden strong smell of petrol.

”You idiots!” hissed Audrey. ”You’ll give the game away!” and there was the sound of someone being struck, followed by a short yelp of pain.

In the corner of the room, Sean noticed a dark opening. Beside him, the bull mastiff stiffened and growled low in its throat, a sound that almost caused Sean to jump out of his skin!

Suppressing a yelp, Sean tries to retreat into the shadows, as if the darkness will hide him from the madness.

“I-I don’t know where to go from here,” he stammers. “I didn’t go any further.”

Clearly angry, Audrey snapped, ”Over there, you idiot! Can you see any other ways out of here?!” She pointed towards the dark entrance while trying to avoid the spreading petrol on the floor.

“Alright, alright; keep your hair on,” mutters Sean: now thoroughly fed up with his lot, but leading the way.

“Bloody hell, I wouldn’t want to return a book late…”

Dark, dank room followed dark, dank room. Sean stumbled forward, kept moving by one of Audrey’s two followers, with the dog snarling and snapping at his heels. After a while he noticed that the walls of the cellar had changed from brick to stone, albeit stone that had been worked by human hands (at least, Sean hoped they were human…)

After another five minutes, he noticed a greenish glow emanating from the doorway into the next chamber. Pausing to try to get a better look, he almost jumped out of his skin when Audrey whispered in his ear, ”What are they doing in there?!”

Can I have a listen roll, please?

[73] = 73
Listen 60 d%: [ 73 ] = 73
Fail

Feeling utterly miserable and afraid, Sean hears nothing except the churning of his stomach.

“Useless!” snapped Audrey, keeping her voice low. She pulled Sean closer, grasping his head firmly in both hands. By the light of the green glow, he could see her eyes were screwed up in intense concentration as she muttered to herself in a language that Sean had never heard before.

“Janus, sweostor râd on−wendednes, oferhîeran mîn hrôpan.
Dôð wlitehêrof hæleð ðêah−hwæðere scieppan sê lêo.
Hê b¯æneðætte mâl hêrespel cûð sîene samðe in phrase samðsamð lôc hê.
Janus, sweostor un−l¯æd âwending, oferhîeran mîn langian.”

Her eyes snapped open and Audrey studied him intently before chuckling dryly. “That will do nicely,” she said, and she pushed him roughly through the doorway and into the next room…

Spluttering with indignation, confusion and fear, Sean staggers into the next room, wondering just how worse his day can become.

The walls of the stone cavern in which Sean found himself were lit with an unholy green light emanating from the centre of the room. Blinking to clear his vision, Sean realised that he wasn’t alone. In the centre, inside a symbol marked on the floor that was shrouded in roiling steam, were the three Americans and the man they called Brophy.

Brophy stared at him, with fear writ large on his face. “Master Thomas?! Thomas Lee?!” he hissed. ”Shoot him or he will kill us all!”

With mounting horror, Sean watched as William brought up a pistol, took aim and fired…

Sean might want to try to dodge that…

[88] = 88
Dodge 25 d%: [ 88 ] = 88

“What the bloody hell!?”

Dumbfounded, Sean is much too slow to avoid the bullet…

As the bullet hit his chest, Sean felt heat and a spreading burning sensation. Looking down, he saw blood seeping through his tank top and he felt sick.

From the middle of the room, he heard another gunshot! William had fired again!

Do you want to try to dodge the second one, then I’ll cover damage?

[71] = 71
Dodge 25 d%: [ 71 ] = 71
Oh well…

Sean staggers back under the impact of the first bullet.

“Mate, what’re you doing? It’s me, Sean!”

Then the second bullet fires and the terrified reporter stumbles.

Sean felt his legs go weak and he collapsed. He felt his vision narrowing like a black shroud and he was unconscious before he hit the floor…

Unfortunately for Sean that was a fatal wound. He’s down to zero HP and needs urgent assistance or he’s a goner

Lying on the cold floor, Sean breathed in wetly, breathed out, breathed in again and then his chest stilled. No more breaths; his life force ebbed away, left behind while others tried to save their own lives…

—- —- —-

RIP, Sean. It was good while it lasted.