Chapter 1: New York City

At last the stars are almost right!

Soon Nyarlathotep's plans will come to fruition. Then the world will be changed irrevocably — but not quite yet. Pesky human investigators have learned much. Now they must survive long enough to make sense of what they know, and take resolute action.

Masks of Nyarlathotep is a Lovecraftian exercise in horror and mystery. This Call of Cthulhu roleplaying classic is a series of linked adventures forming one long and unforgettable campaign. Horrifying deeds and dangerous sorcery dog those who dare attempt to unravel the fate of the Carlyle Expedition

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Chapter 1: New York City

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Masks of Nyarlathotep - Chapter 1: New York City
East End, June 19th, 1924.

"Amongst my few playmates, I was very unpopular, since I would insist on playing out events in history or acting according to consistent plots.... The children I knew disliked them [and their] romping & shouting puzzled me. I hated mere play & dancing about....in my relaxations I always desired plot."
-H.P. Lovecraft, Letters.


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George Atwell's parties where legendary and this one ranked up there in extravagance. George was a rich man. A very rich man. He had made his money in coffee. It was said he owned dozens of plantations in Central and South America. But he spent most of his time in New York and fancied himself as a intellectual. Well, he liked to spend time with those in academia hoping it would rub off. The party was in full swing, as a pair of men in fencing outfits circles and hacked at each others foils with wild abandon. The streamers that hung from the ceiling didn't help much as they got tangled in their blades. The crowd cheered and laughed as the men fought. The crowd itself was a who's who of the New York intellectual scene. There were scientists, writers, publishers, and entertainers of all types here.

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Off in one corner sat Jackson Elias and Jonah Kensington. A bottle or real Scottish whiskey between them. All round where several other people who either watched the fencers, talked amongst themselves, or listened in on someone's conversation. Jackson smoked on his pipe and his eyes sparkled as he talked. "...now I was that close to opening up with my pistol on those vile men but if I did they would have swamped me for sure....." He pointed with gun like hand signal at one of the turbaned servants who where serving drinks and finger foods. He turned to a regard a handsome clean shaven man with a Stetson hat lined with the skin of cheetah in his hand who was standing nearby. "If it wasn't for Horatio here we wouldn't have gotten out alive."
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Re: Chapter 1: New York City

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Gerald Thomson III, a table away from his publisher's table, sips on his Singapore Sling and patiently awaits the fencing to stop. Eager to hear his debutante performer, Marga, make an appearance on stage. After all, he had said to her that she would fit right in at a party like this. Now, he's hesitant to what she actually would pick as a number.

Thomson, being a rather weathered man has done his best to dress up smartly with top hat and classic tails.
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Re: Chapter 1: New York City

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Marga can feel her nerves playing around, but when she notices that everyone's attention are on the two men making a spectacle of themselves, she feels calmer and make ready to sing:

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https://www.dropbox.com/s/9fkxfdphuubq3 ... 9.mp3?dl=0
"With friends like this, who needs dynamite?"
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Re: Chapter 1: New York City

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After her debut, she joins Gerald Thomson at his table.

"What did you think, Gerald, did I pass muster?"
"With friends like this, who needs dynamite?"
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Re: Chapter 1: New York City

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Thomson applauds the singing and bids Marga to sit by his table. "You most certainly do, my dove." He kisses her on the hand and listens in on the conversation at the table next to theirs. Bragging and comparing sizes of treasures and what not.
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Re: Chapter 1: New York City

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Amy Lawrence is wearing a lightweight red sleeveless summer dress that she bought especially for the occasion. It's a bit more daring than what she usually wears, but she really wants to look her best and make a strong impression on Jackson. It's been over a week since the last time she's seen him, which was hard for her to endure. She listens to his account with her full attention, hanging on his every word. A wide smile lights up her face, the cosmetics she applied this morning enhancing her natural beauty.
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Re: Chapter 1: New York City

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Artemis had been invited by one of his rather eccentric clients to what would be one of the most memorable events in his life - a party at New York socialite and coffee magnate George Atwell's as a reward for completing a rather complicated pedigree search. After spending a large sum on a new suit, and picking up his train ticket to Manhattan's Grand Central Station, Artemis had settled into reading the latest book from Jackson Elias. When he arrived at the Station, he caught a cab to the hotel where he was suppose to meet the client. However, when he checked in at the front desk of the Ansonia, a telegram was waiting for him. The client had been called away to Washington for a Senate hearing and apologized for not being able to introduce Artemis to Atwell personally. However, as a consolation, three nights at the Waldorf were now provided for along with a small bonus for expenses. Artemis was a bit taken aback, but grateful and left his overnight bag with the bell hop and set out on the town.

He eventually found his way to the party and a table on the edges of the room. Even with the expense he went to in getting the new suit, he was still very underdressed. He watched two men engage in fencing. When they were finished, a slightly lady in a striking evening gown moved to the microphone and sings. He was impressed with her style and voice. The evening was off to a great start for certain.
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Re: Chapter 1: New York City

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Horatio turns back from observing the fight and laughs, shaking his head.

"Well it was only proper for me to get us out of that particular jam, old boy. If I had remembered the Swahili for "your wife is very beautiful" translates quite differently in the Bantu dialect of the Eastern Congo, we may have got a more hospitable welcome in the first place."


He takes a cigarette out of his coat and lights it.

"It did kind if escalate rather quickly after that, didn't it?", he adds with a roguish grin.
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Re: Chapter 1: New York City

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Anderson is drinking the whiskey, he doesn't know when he will be able to drink the strue stuf again... after a while he doesn't resist the curiosity and asks:
"And what were you kooking for? Some exotic cult or a rare object?"
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Re: Chapter 1: New York City

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Roger is sitting quietly, enjoying his cigar. By the standards he had in his youth, this is a tame party, but considering his lifestyle in the last few years... he can't help feeling a little out of place and overwhelmed. He realizes how quickly he has grown accostumed to solitude and shakes his head.

He listens as Elias talks about his adventures and smiles. As usual, a great storyteller. Roger leans back, closes his eyes and pictures the two men fighting for their lives, surrounded by bloodthirsty savages. Ah, if only I had 10 years... and maybe 50 kilograms... less. He hears a woman singing, her voice creating a beautiful accompaniment for Elias' tale.

Perhaps an evening like this, every now and then, is not so bad.
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Re: Chapter 1: New York City

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kabukiman wrote:Anderson is drinking the whiskey, he doesn't know when he will be able to drink the strue stuf again... after a while he doesn't resist the curiosity and asks:
"And what were you kooking for? Some exotic cult or a rare object?"
Jackson looks over and smiles. "I was in the Belgian Congo trying to track down any leads on the Leopard Cult. A very nasty group that dress up in leopard skins and terrorize the locals. In some of their rites they even eat their captives. I met Horatio at the Gentleman's Club in Stanleyville. We ran into a gang of toughs looking for any signs of the cult."
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Re: Chapter 1: New York City

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"So did you find any proof of thaty sect? Or it was only a legend?" - asks Anderson
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Re: Chapter 1: New York City

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Thomson tips his head at the lady in red by the Big Game Hunters' table, "Gerald Thomson III, at your service, miss?"
He makes a sweeping motion to the song bird at his own table, "My dove of a bird, the Nightingale of Capetown, Miss Maraga Mariz."

After a while of listening and conversing at the tables Thomson gets clear sober and a bit formal.

He raises an eyebrow to Kensington and whispers in confidence, "A word on the balcony, would you be so kind, sir?"
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Re: Chapter 1: New York City

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kabukiman wrote:"So did you find any proof of thaty sect? Or it was only a legend?" - asks Anderson
"Oh they are real alright. We crashed one of their meeting and were lucky to get out with our skins. They melted in to the hills before the authorities could get to them." says Jackson.
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Re: Chapter 1: New York City

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"Well, I hope you take a rest for some time now. You can't expend all your lifes like that"- says Anderson taking another drink from a waiter
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Re: Chapter 1: New York City

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kabukiman wrote:"Well, I hope you take a rest for some time now. You can't expend all your lifes like that"- says Anderson taking another drink from a waiter
"Well that was several years ago and it is true I prefer to work in the field rather than a dusty library." He knods at Jonah. "If fact I am headed off to Africa in a week or so. No rest for the wicked." He takes a sip of his whiskey and glances over at Amy with a slight worried look.
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Re: Chapter 1: New York City

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"Oh, I see."
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Re: Chapter 1: New York City

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Dave wrote:He raises an eyebrow to Kensington and whispers in confidence, "A word on the balcony, would you be so kind, sir?"
Jonah rises from his seat with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other. "Why of coarse, Gerald. I have heard all of Jackson's tall tales before." He says with a laugh. You both walk over to a large balcony overlooking the east river. It is a warm night with a slight breeze. Hazy cloulds streak the sky. A couple kiss on one end of the balcony and they are lost in each other's embrace.
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Re: Chapter 1: New York City

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Artemis had watched the remarkable siren leave the stage to warm applause and let his eyes follow her back to the table of gentlemen she joined. As he scanned the table, he sat up a bit in his seat and realized that Jackson Elias was there at her table.

He reached for his cane, sold wood with its aged trench brass turned into the necessary pieces at top and point. I should at least say hello and thank him for taking time out of his busy life to respond to my occasional inquires. Yes, that would be appropriate, Artemis said to himself. He excused himself from the uninterested couple still sitting at his table, the others from the table were now mingling about or already departed for their next engagement.

Taking a second to get his proper balance, Artemis moved about the room and placed himself near Jackson's table.

"Mr. Jackson, pardon me, but I just had to come and thank you in person when I realized you were sitting here," Artemis said when a pause permitted. "Artemis Richter from Philadelphia," he attempted to extend a hand in such a manner as to not be too rude to anyone at the table.
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Re: Chapter 1: New York City

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Out on the balcony -

"Thank you for letting me lend your ears for a minute, Jonah. I'm planning spending spring in Casablanca, to get a change of scenery. I've stumbled upon some Foreign Legion diaries from the area and the weather is nice. That and a contact at the Office of Naval Intelligence have me considering an idea of searching for a hidden civilization in the sands of north western Africa. That is, should Prospero House consider keeping me on a retainer for researching the details I can get from my contacts. I would be really thankful. As you understand I can't give you much more to go on should you decline the proposition." Thomson lights a cigar while going through his speech in hindsight. I really should consider preparing those speeches prior to delivering them...
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