Welcome to Middleton College.
"No man should escape our universities without knowing how little he knows." -J. Robert Oppenheimer
***
The black sky belched out wave after wave of giant snowflakes. The snow, that had only fallen lightly just before sunset, now pressed down on the campus of Middleton College like an oppressive hand, muting sound and smothering light. The snowflakes danced defiantly on the wind in the flickering light of the four gas lamps that slowly made the trek across campus. The lamp bearers were the only the only living creatures that dared to venture out into the storm. It was a necessary pilgrimage, and the pilgrims already knew what they’d find at the journey’s end."The Well" was the oldest structure on the campus of Middleton College. It was built more than 200 years ago by the school’s founders as the "watering hole" for travelers’ horses, but in recent years it had been turned into a stone and column monument to learning, achievement, and the progress of man. On this dark, cold night the Well had also become a tomb.
The five travelers gathered at the Well; the light of their lamps all converged on a single point, tragically spotlighting the body of a young woman that dangled in the blackness. She was suspended in the air by a wicked wire wrapped around her neck like a noose, the other end of which was affixed to the top of the Well’s metal dome. The young woman wore only her nightgown. It was covered in her blood, so fresh that she steamed in the frigid air. Frost had already begun collecting on her limbs, and the corpse swayed gently in the wind as if engaged in a macabre waltz.
"Lucy! Lucy!" one of the four travelers screamed against the howl of the wind, his voice dripping with the pain of loss. He started to run to the body, but the others restrained him.
Another of the four spoke, his voice was much calmer and more collected. "This was murder."
"Look at her," a third voice exclaimed. "That’s barbed wire around her neck. Look at her hands. They’re all torn up. She did this to herself!" It was indeed barbed wire. The flesh on her hands and neck were ragged from the vicious caress of that instrument of war.
The calm voice spoke again. "That doesn’t mean it wasn’t murder." He turned his back on the whole scene and began walking back toward the warmth of a fire. "Get the constable. Get her down from there."
The fourth man finally spoke as they went to work. "This is only the beginning. The worst is yet to come."
***
LHM is still in the character creation stage and is looking for 1 or 2 additional investigators to join us. We are looking for folks who are as interested in writing the story as they are in playing the game. You can find all of the game info and character discussion HERE.