Black Mask: Call of Cthulhu (OOC)

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I am restarting a Call of Cthulhu Campaign that I was running for my gaming group here on the EN Boards. The game is just for my current gaming group so it is currently full. Though comments from those outside the game are welcome.

The game is set in 1926 San Francisco. It is a blend of the pulp mystery stories of Dashall Hammet and cosmic horror tales of H.P. Lovecraft.

All the players have some connection with the Hearst-Gilliam Publishing House and its magazines: "The Black Mask", a monthly mystery/horror magazine, and "The Public Eye", a weekly tabloid.

I am restarting the game after The Haunting of Elmer Standish. Every thing that happened in Bad Spirits the game with the haunted bottles of wine never happened.


The Players:

Deacon Faust

Deacon Faust, born in 1900 to the late Dr. Emerson Faust and his wife Emelia. Led the typical life of luxury at his family's estate in Marin County. Was a gifted athlete and indifferent student which along with the Faust fortune enabled him to attend Harvard University. Two months shy of graduating, Deacon's parents were killed when their private plane crashed in the mountains of Northern California. Emotionally devastated he withdrew form college. As the sole heir Deacon inherited a sizable estate. With his new found fortune he traveled the world for the next few years learning many things along the way. He studied mysticism in India and Thailand, martial arts in China and Japan. He sailed with smugglers and pirates in the South China Sea. Fought with and against mercenaries in Mongolia. All the while searching for some meaning in his life. Eventually, as the idle rich often do, he became bored and returned to San Francisco. On his return, he frequented many of the hot night spots and fell in with some of the local ne'er do wells. He has been known to smuggle booze on his yacht for the owners of some of the speak-easies and has been seen with some low-level gangsters. Of course the local papers love this, as they can write about this son of a former society matron slumming with the dregs. Deacon is an altruist in the purest form, frequently opening his home to those less fortunate souls much to the chagrin of his faithful butler, Godfrey.
 
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Conrad Nagel

I am Conrad Nagel, some say I look like the film star of the same name, but I dont see it. I started writing horror fiction in high school after reading Mary Shellys Frankenstein. The book had a euphoric effect on me that I would later find in drugs - it made me want to control life, to be just like God. I didnt have the same knack for science that I did for English so I started writing, creating everything that my real world didnt have.

Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that I might do it for a living. Oh sure it was a dream of mine, but I couldnt imagine getting to do what I love for money. It was a college professor at the University of Washington that submitted one of my fictional papers in to a horror magazine. He didnt even tell me until it was published and he handed me a copy of the magazine and a check for $5. I was officially a professional writer from that day on.

It was in Seattle that I made my first connection into the horrifying underworld, Skinny the Deformed Barber. I met Skinny at a girls house. I met her on the street; she said she was having a party and invited me to come. Not being able to resist my own curiosity, I went, and my life was never the same.

Skinny and I took to each other right off. His face, which had no nose to speak of, intrigued me. A stroke deadened the nerves in the right side of his face giving him a very sad look. Most people were afraid to look at him I, on the other hand, couldnt take my eyes off the human Halloween mask that sat in front of me. I talked to him just so I could get a closer look. As it turned out, a guy turned Skinnys own razor on him and sliced off most of his nose after getting a bad haircut. The way Skinny tells it, the guy was high on devils weed when he did it, but Skinny got him back. He blew the guys brains out with a shotgun several days later.

So it was at this particular party that I was not only introduced to Skinny, but what he had with him and why he was at this party, opium. Skinnys barbering was a front for his real trade, drug trafficking. After talking to him for a while he offered me some. Two seconds after smoking that stuff I was on another planet. People took on a melancholy hue that only drugs can produce. The world was doing just fine and I was in heaven looking down from the clouds. The world became a far more interesting place.

Skinny seemed to know everybody in Seattle. He was the dope supplier for most of the town, high society down the lowest crumbs on the street. People called him Skinny the Barber because he still cut hair as a hobby and a way to keep the heat off. Skinny also had a connection in all the papers and the magazines based in Seattle, one of which was Fiend. Fiend was a horror magazine that did cartoons as well as short stories. In one afternoon I became a staff writer who specialized in original short stories. My pay was $800 a year, which was fine with me. I became entrenched in the opium world and the rest of the wicked world mattered very little. I lived simply, well within my means, living on writing, girls and drugs.

It was during a high one afternoon that I fell in love with a woman named Donna. She was a hot blond with a great body, but what really did it for me were her feet. I dont know if it was the drug or the fact that I was just a sick bastard, but I was obsessed and fell head over heels with her lovely, lovely feet. I looked at those feet for two hours before even saying a word to her, not that I could if I even tried, but it didnt matter. When we started dating she said I was warped because when I checked out a girl the first thing I looked at were her feet. I could imagine them through stockings, through shoes, through anything and I had a compulsion to see them. My imagination kept me alive in more ways than one. But I did a good job for the rag, writing all the same. I always made my deadlines and developed a good reputation in the industry. Donna moved in with me after a few months of dating and life just got sweeter and sweeter.

Apparently my reputation went further than Seattle and after about a year I was offered a job in San Francisco as a staff writer for another horror magazine that offered a little more money called The Black Mask. I was sad to leave Skinny and all my friends in Seattle, Donna most of all. Yeah I left Donna. I was bored of her. One day after getting the call I packed up all I could in a couple of suitcases, mounted them onto my Harley, took a few uppers and rode into San Francisco to start my new life.

I called Skinny as soon as I got to SF and he told me about a speakeasy he used to go to when he was in town where you could get good drugs and nice, healthy women. It had everything, overlooking the San Francisco Bay. I got a flat nearby, which was close enough to walk to the speakeasy and a short ride to work.

It was in the back room of this particular speakeasy, on an intense opium high, staring at a young girl named Alices rotting toenails that I heard someone call my name. I had no idea who it was, but I could tell by the sound of his voice that it was somebody rich.
 

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Dr. Mantell Roberts

Codex Esoterica
the bookshop catering to the discriminating reader

If your literary interests lie somewhat off the beaten path or if you are looking for something new and different then Codex Esoterica is for you! We have thousands of books covering topics as diverse as Oriental mysticism and secret Tibetan cults to the latest mystery thrillers. Looking for a rare or out-of-print tome, we have agents on four continents that will find what you are looking for. Foreign language editions are our speciality. Stop in on the 1st and 15th of every month to hear your favorite authors read from their soon to be published works.

Dr. Mantell Roberts Ph.D., founder and operator of Codex Esoterica, invites you join one of the weekly discussion groups to expound on your area of interest. Hurry in, new groups are now forming. Author of "Unmasked", a monthly column appearing in the periodical "The Black Mask", Dr. Roberts is one of the cities foremost experts in the areas of history and occultism.
 
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Jonathan Beaumont III

Jonathan Beaumont III
Occupation: Writer at the Gillian-Hearst Publishing House
Age: 23
Appearance: Dashing

Born in Georgia to Cynthia and Jonathan Beaumont II. Moved to New York at the age of 14. Spent 3 years working with his father at the Olden's Shoe Factory, which then went out of business. Unable to find decent work they were evicted from their apartment. His mother and father moved back to Georgia to stay with family, while Jonathan stayed with a group of friends and fond work as a newsie. It was during this time that his love for literature grew and he spent most of his time reading and writing. Pitching his ideas to the local reporters. This of course was the wrong avenue but through some luck a local reporter, Brian Denton, pitched his writing to a friend in the Gillian-Hearst Publishing House. Soon after Jonathan has several short stories about the unexplained published in the ?Black Mask? magazine. He then published three pulp novels about a crime fighter by the name of the "Hidden Mantis" These novels have met with some success and he is currently working on a fourth. He is writing these under the pen name of Nathan Powers.
 

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Ezekial Sawyer

To: Thomas Blaine, Editor of The Public Eye
From: Ezekial Sawyer, Reporter
Date: March 15, 1926
Re: Urgent Danger to all residents; Please publish this immediately...it is of utmost urgency to all! (I know I said that last time, but this is an emergency!)


WEASEL-YOUTH SPOTTED NEAR FAUST ESTATE!!!!
San Francisco-1926

City Residents Beware! A weasel-faced youth was spotted by this reporter's own eyes as it lurked near the Estate of famed San Franciscan Deacon Faust! Upon being silhouetted by my coach lights, the boy scampered down an alley and sought shelter in a nearby modest home. My pursuit led me to the door, which was answered a man claiming to be the creature's father, who unconvincingly argued his case for the boy's normality! As our heated discussion continued, the boy-weasel peered out from his hiding place, looking for all the world a normal boy! You can imagine my shock and suprise! My suprise was heightened by the physical pummeling given to me by the boy's father, who broke both my nose and my cane, and unceremoniously dumped me in the garbage outside.
I urge all citizens to arm themselves against the upcoming relentless assault of the lycanthrope weasel-boy and his cabal of human minions!

About the Author: Ezekial Sawyer regularly submits articles to The Public Eye, and was published once in November of 1924. His chief concern is the safety of all residents of this fair city and the investigation of all things paranormal.
Sawyer was born on a farm in rural Georgia in 1850 and served in the Confederate army during the Civil War. After the war, he worked as a cobbler, a librarian, a miner, and had a short stint as a paddleboat captain. Sawyer served as a mercenary in several locales and rode up San Juan Hill with Roosevelt's Rough Riders. On several occasions during his life, Sawyer went to sea as a merchant sailor, where his travels led him to Africa, Tahiti, Hawaii, China, and India. It was in these exotic locales that his interest in the supernatural began. Since that time, he has relentlessly acquired vast knowledge of the paranormal in order to safeguard normal folk from the unexplained! Sawyer relocated to San Francisco after a generous grant from the City of Los Angeles, who assure him that all things supernatural have been eradicated from their city by his efforts!
 

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Recaping the game so far.

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Horror in the Basement

Chapter One: April 1st, 1946.

It was a normal Thursday morning at Hearst-Gilliam Publishing House. Conrad Nagel was typing away in the bull pen, working on a short story for the "Black Mask" magazine. He glanced up ever so often to get a gander at the two secretaries. Boy, they were both lookers. To bad they were working at their desks or he could get a better look at their feet. He hoped Gladys was wearing those black pumps again. Shaking he head, Conrad got back to his story. Just a couple more pages and he would be done.

At that moment the front door opened and three gentlemen can in. Conrad recognized them as; Dr. Mantell Roberts, a rare bookstore owner and sometimes columnist for the "Black Mask", Jonathan Beaumont, a free lance pulp fiction writer who was working on a serial for the magazine, and Deacon Faust, a rich playboy that Conrad had met at Rycks speak-easy a few weeks ago. About this time, the door to Mr. Blaines office opened and out stumbled Ezekel Sawyer, an aged reporter for "The Public Eye" tabloid. Mr. Blaine was yelling from his office about some story that he wanted Sawyer to get on in a hurry. Hurry!! That was a laugh! Sawyer could not hurry if his life depended on it. Using his cane for balance, Sawyer ambled over to his desk, cursing under his breath.

After some greetings and small talk, Deacon Faust went in to see Mr. Blaine, and Beaumont and Roberts turned over some manuscripts to the secretaries. Some minutes later, Deacon came out and invited everyone to lunch at Julius restaurant. That was a pretty swank place on Telegraph Hill and I joined the group. We traveled there in Faust's Silver Phantom Rolls-Royce. After lunch as we where starting to go our separate ways, Sawyer took Dr. Roberts aside and spoke to him. Dr. Roberts expression changed to one of worry and concern. Sawyer announced that he was working on a story about a young boy who disappeared from his room last night. And to compound the tale the boy was Dr. Roberts' cousin.

After a short conference, the group decided to assist Sawyer in investigating the story. They hopped back into Faust's car and went to South San Francisco. The Wintergreen Apartments is where we stopped. I looked at this rundown place and wondered who would live here. The neighborhood was a trash ridden slum. We found the apartment and Dr. Roberts got us in to see the grieving parents. I was suspicious of the father right away. Ted and Mary Roberts told us the story of how their baby boy, Billy, disappeared from his crib last night. The police had been called and after a search they could not discover how the child had disappeared with out it being foul play. We questioned the parents and searched the apartment and nursery. Other than being a rat infested apartment, no signs of foul play where found. Deacon Faust notice though some bloody rat tracks running into the nursery and to the laundry chute. But the laundry chute was too small for anyone other than a small child to fit in.

After talking to the super, we got a key to the basement where the laundry chute lead to. It was a dark place with a rickety stairs. As I lead the way, the rail gave way and I fell. I felt the pain shooting from my shoulder where I landed and a piece of the railing had stuck into my side. The others came down more carefully. Luckily, I had some morphine to ease the pain.

A search of the basement revealed a stack of old newspapers, a rotting corpse of a dead cat, and the other end of the laundry chute. Our lone flashlight, cast weird shadows on the wall as we searched. In my drug clouded vision, I saw some dark shapes dark from bind the newspapers. I cried out a warning a three large rats attacked. Normal rats do not attack people, but these did. The size of small cats, they bit Faust, Beaumont, and poor Sawyer. The one on Sawyer, hung from his arm like some obscene Christmas ornament. Using his flashlight like a club, Beaumont struck the one attacking him and Faust stuck his with a meaty fist. They both fell. The one biting Sawyers arm leaped to the ground and scurried into the darkness.

Looking behind the stack of newspapers revealed a hole that lead to a shaft about 3 foot in diameter. We could hear a faint rustling from around a bend some 6 feet in. Brave Beaumont volunteered to take the flashlight and Fausts pistol and crawl into the hole. A minute later, with Faust holding on to Beaumonts feet, we heard a cry from Beaumont and a shot. Faust pulled him out quickly. He was in shock and his right arm was blackened and cracked like it had been badly burned. We quickly got out of there. Beaumont and I were helped out and I believe Dr. Roberts had called for a ambulance and the police. Beaumont was muttering something about a human faced rat and a black cloud. He also said that the child's dead body was down in the tunnel as well. We gathered our wits as the sound of a police siren was heard.



Chapter 2: April 1st, 1926

The ambulance and the police car arrived within minutes of each other and as the white coated ambulance driver and nurse worked on the injured, the two cops looked over the diverse group before the apartment building. "Ok whats going on here?" said the stout police sergeant. Before Mantell could open his mouth, Deacon Faust quickly spun a tale involving a dark cellar and some mean rats, but with no mention of the dead baby or the human faced rat thing. The super of the apartment building came out and added his two cents. It was discovered that the apartments where owned by the south side gangster Monte Blue. The police, who where most likely under the pay of Mr. Blue, did not want to involve there "benefactor" in this. The group talked the police out of investigating the basement at this time. With Beaumont and Nagel headed to the hospital, the rest of the group decided to meet later at Johns Grill for coffee and to discuss what to do. Later that day it was discovered that the police had arrested Ted Roberts for the disappearance of his son.

It was decided to return later that night to further investigate the basement and this time everyone was packing heat. Faust, Sawyer, and Mantell picked up Beaumont and Nagel at the hospital. Though Beaumont was still a bit shell shocked and Nagels drugs where wearing off, they both went with the others. Back at the apartment building and with guns drawn, they went again down into the dark basement. As they examined the dead rats, they noticed their deformed heads and hands, which looked strangely human. Faust volunteered to go into the crawl space and after squeezing into the tight space found the rat things lair and the dead body of the infant. Among the trash and other items he found many sheets of paper covered with a tiny scrawl. They set a small fire in the nest and taking the small mutilated body left the apartments.

Sawyer called the crime and police consultant from the publishing house and got the name of a police man that they could talk to. They met at Johns Grill and told their story and produced the body of the dead child. The deformed rats where not mentioned. The policeman lieutenant, Callihan, said he would look into it and see that the apartment building was condemned.

Ted Roberts was later released, and the Wintergreen apartments bulldozed to the ground. Mantell Roberts found some better living for his brother and his sister-in-law. Both Roberts and Sawyer begin to study the strange manuscript they had found. It seemed to have been writing in a old form of English and had many references to witchcraft and the occult.
 
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The Haunting of Elmer Standish


Over the next week or so, Ezekal Sawyer and Mantell Roberts conferred over the strange manuscript that was found in the Rat-Things lair. Jonathan Beaumont and Conrad Nagel rested, healed, and recovered from their wounds both physical and mental. Deacon Faust spent the time as any rich man about town would.

One day, a middle aged woman entered Dr. Roberts bookstore, The Codex Esoterica. She browsed in the ghosts and haunting section, looking confused and befuddled. Dr. Roberts came to her assistance. "May I help you?" he whined in that high pitched voice of his. Looking back and forth across the near empty bookstore, she said "I was just looking over your selection of books and I dont know where to start. You see I have a problem and I was hoping to find something in here to help me. Mantells eyes bugged a little more than usual at this. He coughed and then said. "Why madam if you would just tell me your problem. I would be very so glad to help you" Dr. Roberts then remembered to smile and thats just what he did. "Well" said the lady "My name is Mabel Duncan, I live up on Nob Hill. A few nights ago, I think I saw a ghost". Mantells head cocked to the side, like a hound dog sniffing a strange scent. "Why Mrs. Duncan, we have a large range of books on ghosts and the like. If you would tell me more about this ghost maybe I can steer you to the correct ones. "You see a few nights ago, I was in my upstairs sitting room reading a most enjoyable romance novel. It was a little after 8:00 in the evening and it has just stopping raining about an hour before. By chance I glanced outside my window and saw a most troubling sight. I saw a man hanging by a noose from the home across the street. And that was not the most gruesome part of it. His face was white and swollen, and as he slowly spun in front a second story window his arms and legs made the most unnatural movements. Quite in shock and went downstairs to get my husband but by the time I had returned, the aberration was gone." "Mrs. Duncan, may I ask you a question? Whose home was this that this "ghost" hung in front of?" said Roberts. "Why it as the home an Elmer Standish, he is a young man who we have very little contact with. A rather nervous person I believe."

Dr. Roberts then picked up several books from the shelves and handed them to the woman. "This should help you considerably my good lady. And if you wish, I will look into this myself for you, just in case some danger might be involved." The woman thanked Dr. Roberts for the books and the advice and after paying him for the books, she ambled out of the store.

After confering with the others and some research and alittle breaking and entering, ther group discovered that Mr. Standish, a nervious young fellow who was about to inherit a large fortune, was being frightened by his lawyer and the maid who was the lawyers lover. The lawyer was hoping to get the young Mister Standish committed to a asylum in which the fortune would stay under the lawyer's controll. The group was able to get a confession out of the maid and the lawyer was arrested. What begun as a investigation into the supernatural turned out to be a mundane plot.
 
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Mindseye

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Ezekial Sawyer

Ezekial Sawyer, looks around, scratches his head, and mutters to himself..." where are those slack-jawed layabouts? There's weird goings on about town....."
 
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glitterfade3

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Underground

Mindseye said:
Ezekial Sawyer, looks around, scratches his head, and mutters to himself..." where are those slack-jawed layabouts? There's weird goings on about town....."

I believe Mr Beumont and Mr Foust are out investigatin some sort of tome robbers. Possibly of the supernateral sort.
 

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