Gomez
First Post
It is a mistake to fancy that horror is associated inextricably with darkness, silence, and solitude. I found it in the glare of mid-afternoon, in the clangour of a metropolis, and in the teeming midst of a shabby and commonplace rooming-house with a prosaic landlady and two stalwart men by my side.
H.P. Lovecraft - "Cool Air"
Thus begins the second chapter of my Masks of Nyarlathotep play by post game. Wherein our stalwart investigators delve in London's gloom and fog to find answers to friend's murder. But at what cost!
R.M.S. Mauretania
East River Docks
New York City
Early Morning January 19th, 1926
The sky is a clear blue and the breeze is light. Though cool it is nowhere near as cold as it has been the past week. Clusters of people crowd the pier as the passengers say their good-byes or attempt to get their luggage aboard. Porters weave among the crowd pushing carts stacked with trunks and other baggage. Women in expensive furs try and keep their children close and under control. Gentlemen smoke pipes and read the morning newspapers as they wait in line to board the great red, black, and white ship tied up to the pier.
A group of people waits to check in their baggage. A young priest with a expectant look on his face, a disheveled man with a hard face who looks to be on a five day bender, a fashionably dress older woman who is chatting away in a cheerful tone, a massive brute of a man with a fedora and tweet suit who is calmly listening to the woman with a smile on his face, a nervous older gentleman with wild graying hair and small round glasses, and a smiling young clean cut Arab.
H.P. Lovecraft - "Cool Air"
Thus begins the second chapter of my Masks of Nyarlathotep play by post game. Wherein our stalwart investigators delve in London's gloom and fog to find answers to friend's murder. But at what cost!
R.M.S. Mauretania
East River Docks
New York City
Early Morning January 19th, 1926
The sky is a clear blue and the breeze is light. Though cool it is nowhere near as cold as it has been the past week. Clusters of people crowd the pier as the passengers say their good-byes or attempt to get their luggage aboard. Porters weave among the crowd pushing carts stacked with trunks and other baggage. Women in expensive furs try and keep their children close and under control. Gentlemen smoke pipes and read the morning newspapers as they wait in line to board the great red, black, and white ship tied up to the pier.
A group of people waits to check in their baggage. A young priest with a expectant look on his face, a disheveled man with a hard face who looks to be on a five day bender, a fashionably dress older woman who is chatting away in a cheerful tone, a massive brute of a man with a fedora and tweet suit who is calmly listening to the woman with a smile on his face, a nervous older gentleman with wild graying hair and small round glasses, and a smiling young clean cut Arab.
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