Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)

[talien]

Chapter 59: Flesh for Eihort

This story hour is from "Flesh for Eihort" by Linden Dunham from the Unbound Book. You can read more about Delta Green at Delta Green. Please note: This story hour contains spoilers!

Our cast of characters includes:

• Game Master: Michael Tresca
• Kurtis "Hammer" Grange (Fast Hero/Gunslinger) played by George Webster
• Jim “Jim-Bean” Baxter (Charismatic Hero/Telepath) played by Jeremy Ortiz (Jeremy Robert Ortiz)
• Joseph “Archive” Fontaine (Dedicated Hero/Acolyte) played by Joe Lalumia

With the players almost all 14th level, I thought it was time to kick things up a notch. Although Cthulhu was technically blown up, his "death" wasn't really a victory. It was more of a plot device escape. I wanted to see how the agents did in a toe-to-toe fight against a Great Old One.

The Goatswood Mythos are a much more physical lot, far more immediate and personal than Lovecraft's hulking monstrosities. So they make for interesting targets that can actually be overcome with firepower. A lot of firepower. A whole lot of firepower.

Ostensibly the purpose of these scenarios is to set up an ongoing contact with the criminal underworld so that the agents have access to resources on the black market that they had when they were at Majestic-12. They won't get access to sci-fi levels of equipment of course, but this scenario is the beginning of a devil's deal: the agents are going to get their hands dirty in return for access to weapons. Was it worth it?

Defining Moment: Jim-Bean impersonates a drunken Welshman and nobody understands a word he's saying.

Relevant Media

• Flesh for Eihort: by Linden Dunham from the Unbound Book.
• [ame=http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0812516605/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=michaeltresca&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0812516605]Cold Print [/ame]: by Ramsey Campbell.
• [ame=http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000V639DI/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=michaeltresca&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B000V639DI]Polly[/ame]: by Nirvana.

 

[The_Black_Cat]

This scenario sounds like the most interesting in a while. I'm unfamilliar with Goatswood (what novels does it show up in?), but, from your description it sounds quite promising. I started my own campaign without telling my players it was CoC (I described it as a detective game, and used the Crimes People Play system) and my players loved it so much we kept gaming while giving them a ride home (I wasn't the one driving). Ended the session with one character fallling from the top of a lighthouse, one keeping cultists from killing the last detective whilst said detective squared off with a ghost in the Nether (a more personal, memory-driven version of the Dresden-verse's Nevernever, without faeries and such stuff). One of my players left absolutely terrified (a horror movie buff) and the others were fairly spooked.

 

[talien]

Flesh for Eihort: Prologue

This scenario sounds like the most interesting in a while. I'm unfamilliar with Goatswood (what novels does it show up in?), but, from your description it sounds quite promising. I started my own campaign without telling my players it was CoC (I described it as a detective game, and used the Crimes People Play system) and my players loved it so much we kept gaming while giving them a ride home (I wasn't the one driving). Ended the session with one character fallling from the top of a lighthouse, one keeping cultists from killing the last detective whilst said detective squared off with a ghost in the Nether (a more personal, memory-driven version of the Dresden-verse's Nevernever, without faeries and such stuff). One of my players left absolutely terrified (a horror movie buff) and the others were fairly spooked.

Hi Black Cat!

The area is technically the Severn Valley (Severn Valley (Cthulhu Mythos) - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia) and the majority of which is in Cold Print. Sounds like you had an excellent time!

And as a thank you for reminding me that this thread still exists, it's time for an update!

==============================

Polly wants a cracker
Maybe she would like more food
Ask me to untie her
A chase would be nice for a few​

--Polly by Nirvana​

LOWER BRICHESTER, ENGLAND—Hammer stood before the Strapping Lad Pub's entrance.

Jim-Bean looked askance at the sign. "This isn't a gay bar, is it?"

Hammer didn't dignify him with a response. "Stay here," he pushed through the door.

Nobby, the proprietor, merely pointed to Cornwell's favorite booth. Hammer followed his finger.

The normally dapper and cool Cornwell looked unnerved. His eyes were bloodshot and two beer glasses stood empty before him.

"So th' time's come, mate. I need ya to do somethin' fer me, and in exchange I'll do somethin' fer you."

Hammer slid into the booth. "Oh?"

He tossed a manila envelope onto the table, hard enough that some of the contents slid out of it. Hammer caught sight of a pale white arm, splayed on pavement.

Cornwell answered the unasked question as Hammer sifted through the envelope's contents. "My brother, Gerald."

The picture was of a man in his forties, stripped to his waist. Gerald was bleeding from a head wound and also from several long cuts that formed odd brackets in his chest. His eyes were wide open, dead. His nose had the telltale veins of a lifelong alcoholic.

"He was ambushed in the street?"

"Around here," said Cornwell darkly. "Gerald may have been a broken down drunk but he's still – he was…" he chewed on a few words to gain his composure, "…my brother. And I'll not let this go unanswered."

"And you want my team to do this," said Hammer.

"Aye, I do," said Cornwell. "And I'll give you the tools to do it. That symbol," he tapped an image that zoomed in on the cuts, "is the work of a cult, I'm sure. If it's the work of one man then I want you to bring him to me. If it's the work of a larger group then ye tell me where they are and I will treat them like any gang."

Hammer nodded. He knew how Cornwell dealt with rival gangs. "How did he die?"

"It's all there in the coroner's report," said Cornwell, impatient with Hammer's questions. "Cause of death was due to a fractured skull and internal bleeding. He was beaten about the head but survived for some time after the attack."

"I'll need my pistols. And walking around money."

"£80 per day for each member of your team, plus expenses."

"And if we get him?"

"£1000 each. The envelope contains the possessions he had on him."

Hammer took the envelope and stashed it in his coat. "We'll do it. But know this – I'm not an assassin. I won't kill an innocent man just because you think he's suspicious."

Cornwell smirked. "Yer a man of principles. It's why I'm hiring ya instead of a couple of meatheads. I got plenty of muscle to do that, don't you worry." It sounded like a threat.

Hammer got up to leave.

"One more thing. They found soil traces on Gerald's body. He may have been underground at some point prior."

"Of course," said Hammer. "That's how it starts."

As he left, Cornwell ordered another drink.

 

[talien]

Flesh for Eihort: Part 1 – Getting Chubby

RedTonic keeps encouraging me so here you go!

===============

Karen Walters picked up the phone.

"Hello," she said in a pleasant voice. "Lower Brichester Housing Association. How may I help you?"

A voice so thickly accented that it bordered on unintelligible bellowed into the phone. "Roit, ahait ya wot an ahppuntment wid Mistuh Chubb."

"Mister…Henry Chubb? Yes, he's out doing his rounds. He should be back soon." She looked up as the unassuming housing officer entered. "Ah yes he's in, may I…"

A dial tone answered her.

"Call for me Karen?" asked Henry

Karen looked at the phone before hanging up. "Apparently not. And where have you been?"

Chubb's brows narrowed. "Out. Why?"

Karen folded her fingers together. "Henry, you've been out quite a bit these days and I'm having difficulty accounting for your hours. If you keep this up I will have to start docking your pay."

Chubb swallowed. "I understand. I'll do a better job of checking in—"

The door burst open and Gerald Cornwell burst in.

"Eh? Roit!" He stabbed a finger at Chubb. "Yew! I gotta bone tah pick wid—"

Karen stood up. "Now, sir…"

Chubb put both hands up in capitulation. "Karen it's all right. Mr. Cornwell, I see you received my warning."

Cornwell blathered on about rights and waved the notice in Chubb's face. When Chubb took it from Cornwell, a slight tingling sizzled up his fingertips. "Yes," he said, "that's my note. We've received numerous complaints from the neighbors. This is your last chance to clean up your act. If there are any more complaints against you proceedings will be taken to evict you from your property."

Cornwell stormed out angrily. A moment later he clambered into a black Rolls Royce Phantom and tore off his faux moustache and beard.

"Yep," said Jim-Bean, rubbing the tender skin where the mustache had been. "Chubb's our man."

Hammer threw the car into gear as a blue Metro pulled out of the small park outside the offices.

 

[RedTonic]

A friendly bump for more scary goodness. :3

 

[talien]

Flesh for Eihort: Part 2 – The House on Coleford Road

I'm now a whopping ten story hours behind! This is separate from writing/posting them, but I'm working hard to get it all written. If I were to post every day it could take over a month to catch up to "real" time. Work's kept me busy...

But anyway, as always RT, you keep reminding me to update. So here you go!

===============

37 Coleford Road was a Victorian terraced house in an area of Lower Brichester which escaped redevelopment in the 1960s.

Hammer went in alone, the welcome feel of a silenced Glock once more in his palm. It felt good to be back in action with the tools he knew best.

He padded up to one of the windows. Chubb was inside, probably panicking over how the man he killed could possibly show up at his doorstep days later. Which was precisely the intended effect of Jim-Bean's makeup.

The window looked into the kitchen. It was in a state of complete chaos with dirty utensils and crockery scattered all over the place. Signs of a disordered mind.

Chubb popped up from behind a counter and their eyes locked. Then he bolted out of the room.

Hammer swore at his bad luck and kicked open the back door. He reflexively reached for his cistron but then remembered he didn't have one. There was no easy way to call for backup and Chubb was getting away.

Hammer plunged into the filthy, darkened dining room. Chubb dove down steps in one corner that spiraled into a cellar.

Hammer squeezed off two shots. He tagged Chubb into the shoulder, but it didn't slow him.

"Don't you understand?" shouted Chubb from the darkness below. "The spider makes me do this. I don't want to hurt you!"

Hammer pursued. He clambered down the metal steps when someone grabbed him by the ankles and yanked. The world spun as Hammer hit the steps hard.

"The cult makes me do this! I was only killing vagrants until I met The Lord of the Primal Labyrinth!"

Something plunged into his thigh. Hanging upside down, one foot wedged in the stairs, he managed to tag Chubb again in the leg as he fled into the cellar's dark womb.

Then it was over and Chubb was gone. His vision swimming, Hammer painfully twisted his foot out of the steps' metal grip and limped his way to the front room of Chubb's flat. With poison coursing through his veins, every second counted.

Hammer's leg gave out on the way to the fridge. But it wasn't his leg giving out; the nerves simply weren't reacting. It was like a dead man's limb had been sewn onto his hip.

Hammer managed to claw at the fridge handle and tore it open. Something dripping and wet rolled out to face him, glaring with accusing eyes at his failure. The head of one of Chubb's victims.

He wasn't going to make it. Hammer made his way to the door and, after fumbling with the chain lock, shoved it open. He gave the signal, hoping Archive would get to him in time.

Archive and Jim-Bean moved immediately. Archive laid Hammer out on the sofa, ignoring the dark stain on it. He worked feverishly to stop the poison from spreading with a special enchantment for just such a purpose.

"He'll be fine," he said after a moment. Hammer's breathing steadied.

Hammer stirred feebly. "Evidence," he coughed.

"Right," said Archive. He went into the study, a converted bedroom lined with shelves full of sci-fi and horror paperbacks. There was also a high quality digital camera with timer device and desktop PC. Archive plugged in a smart drive with a hacker code Guppy had given him. In less than a minute it figured out the password: Chubb's middle name, Thomas.

Then the parade of horrors began. The PC’s hard drive was chock full of pictures of Chubb’s victims taken with a digital camera. All of the subjects were dead and had horrific head injuries. They were posed in normal attitudes, sitting propped up in armchairs or at the dining room table. Some had glasses or cutlery placed in their hands as if they were having a drink or eating a meal. Chubb appeared in a number of the pictures smiling broadly, obviously enjoying the corpse’s company. It was an obscene parody of someone entertaining a particularly welcome guest.

"There's more than enough evidence on his computer," said Archive. "This guy was a real sick bastard."

"Good," said Hammer, coughing. "Send them to Cornwell. And then set them for an hour later to send to the police."

"You're sure?"

"Yeah." Hammer suddenly sat bolt upright. "Where's Jimmy?"

"He went down into the cellar. Why?"

"Chubb may still be in the house!"

 

[RedTonic]

May I have an update for my birthday?

 

[talien]

Flesh for Eihort: Part 3 – The Thing in the Cellar

In honor of your birthday, two updates at once!

Happy birthday RT!

===============

The cellar had a brick floor, which was very uneven. There was a large hole in one corner of the cellar where the floor collapsed into a space underneath. Earth and bricks were piled up on one side of the hole to form a ramp leading into the darkness below.

Jim-Bean crept down the steps, pistol out. He didn't like the look of the place and he wasn't inclined to play a cat-and-mouse game with a serial killer. He had intentionally let Hammer take the lead in investigating Chubb – he wasn't interested in getting psychically inside a murder's head. But they were running out of time and Chubb was tough enough to take on Hammer. It was time to step up the game.

Jim-Bean touched the floor of the cellar and focused, closing his eyes.

The path into darkness ahead of him yawned wide as Jim-Bean's mind expanded exponentially to explore the labyrinth. It sucked him relentlessly into a whirlpool of thought, diverging into a labyrinth. In the distance he could make out a dim glowing form.

Jim-Bean began walking the path. As he walked, titles came unbidden to his lips: The Lord of the Primal Labyrinth, the Walker of the Sacred Roads, and The Invisible Fire That Works In Secret. He spoke them with each step, and as he strode forward into the labyrinth its lines wavered and shifted in position, what was outside the outer wall became hazy and indistinct.

The distortion increased the deeper he went, until the lines overlapped one another, and what was outside could not be seen at all.

At last he was before the source of the glow, an ethereal, almost angelic presence, composed of burning wheels, white angel's wings and wise, ancient eyes.

When it spoke, a fatherly, wise-sounding chorus resonated in Jim-Bean's head. "WHEN THE METEORS FALL FROM POLARIS, THE BARRIERS OF MY LABYRINTH WILL BE WEAKENED AND I SHALL WALK AMONG YOU. ACCEPT MY BARGAIN AND I WILL MAKE YOU MY—"

A sharp pain across Jim-Bean's face tore through the communication, and the angelic being shrieked with rage as he was sucked away back to the world above.

"…Jimmy!" Hammer raised his open palm to slap Jim-Bean again. "Snap out of it!"

Jim-Bean caught his wrist. "I'm okay."

Hammer rose, a little stiff. "Good. Because you don't look okay."

Jim-Bean looked down at himself. Blood was pouring from multiple stab wounds, and a syringe stuck out of his neck. Chubb had been busy while Jim-Bean was communing with whatever it was down there.

"Are you okay?" asked Archive. "Judging from the amount of drugs he must have pumped into you…"

Jim-Bean rose, waving him off. "I'm fine."

"Chubb got away. Get your stuff," said Hammer. "We're going after him."

Jim-Bean rubbed his eyes and peered into the foreboding darkness. "Don't tell me," he said slowly. "He went into the labyrinth."

 

[talien]

Flesh for Eihort: Part 4 – The Blessed of Eihort

They entered under an oddly carved overhang, and it was as if they had turned over a stone in some dark moist place; things came alive and retreated into the dark. The labyrinthine tunnels were lined with an unidentifiable soft substance.
The place was alive – Jim-Bean could sense that life pulsed and watched from every unlit room.

Their makeshift torches flickered in the darkness, illuminating three human-shaped stalagmites.

"What is that?" asked Hammer, disgusted.

"Human bodies." Archive wrinkled his nose. "I think."

The corpses were swathed in what appeared to be thick spider webs.

Jim-Bean inspected one closer. "What happened to them?"

The eyes flicked open of one of the figures, mouth working soundlessly at first. It was a woman, and her voice rose in a strangled moan of terror.

"The Bargain!" she wailed. "I MADE THE BARGAIN AND IT'S COME DUE!"

Archive glanced around at the flickering shadows. "If Chubb didn't know we were here, he knows now."

Hammer shook his head and sighed. In a flash his shiny new Glock was aimed at the woman's forehead.

He needn't have bothered. The scream terminated in a choking gasp followed by a liquid, bubbling cough.

The woman's face tore, a rent appearing from temple to jaw, opening the cheek to hang revealed; there was no blood – only something pale as things that had never seen the sun, pouring down the woman's body, which deflated like a balloon. The other two bodies opened like overripe fruit left bloating in the sun, their contents adding to the white swarm.

Hammer leaped backwards as the swarm of enormous fat white spiders rolled forward. He reflexively brandished his torch and the spiders recoiled.

"They fear fire!" said Archive. "Burn them!"

The swung torches before them in wide arcs and the spider shrieked like infants, wailing for their mother.

All Jim-Bean could think was that he had nearly made the bargain too.

 

[RedTonic]

@__@ CREEPY

But an excellent birthday present. Thanks for the double update!