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Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4968998" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Owlshead Mountain: Part 6 – Old Thomas</strong></p><p></p><p>Old Thomas Waban was a full-blooded Pennacook Indian who grew up in and around the Townsend area. Nearing eighty, he still managed for himself, living in a shack in the divot between Clastonbury and Owlshead Mountain. </p><p></p><p>Thomas' shack was a three-room lodge that existed in the wooded depression. The path was too small for motor vehicles, forcing the agents to park by the roadside. </p><p></p><p>The path wound through the sweet-smelling forest of spruce, pine, and cedar trees for three-hundred yards before opening up into a small clearing. It was located next to a small freshwater stream in a beautiful grassy clearing rich in wildflowers. </p><p></p><p>The old American Indian was, perhaps surprisingly, splitting wood with an axe. </p><p></p><p>Hammer stepped out into the clearing, raising his badge. "Are You Thomas Waban?"</p><p></p><p>Thomas wiped his brow with a handkerchief in his pocket. "Yes. And you are with the government?"</p><p></p><p>"You could say that," said Jim-Bean with a smirk.</p><p></p><p>"Come inside."</p><p></p><p>Inside the shack was a mishmash of early twentieth-century junk and Pennacook craftwork, a ceremonial staff standing right next to an old Esso gas pump covered in vines. His furniture was functional if a bit uncomfortable, and there was no beds evident anywhere in the house.</p><p></p><p>He sat at a beaten up old table and gestured at the empty stools. "What can I do for you gentlemen?"</p><p></p><p>Hammer, Jim-Bean, and Archive sat down with him. </p><p></p><p>"Did you know Harold Gall?"</p><p></p><p>“Yes. He contacted me awhile back, asking all sorts of questions about my specialty. Harold never told me where he came from or why he was so desperate to learn what I know."</p><p></p><p>"Did you know anything about his employer?"</p><p></p><p>Waban shook his head. “I don’t know where Harold worked. A couple of times he said that people were after him, but never explained who they were. We made an appointment to head out to the burial mound under cover of night, but he never showed up and I haven’t heard from him since. That’s strange, because he said something about the talisman being his only hope, whatever that means."</p><p></p><p>"Wait a minute," said Archive. "Burial mound?"</p><p></p><p>Waban spared Archive a smile. “You may not know it, but these mountains are famous in certain circles for Mothman sightings. I’m one of those folks who know Mothmen really appeared here. I’ve got proof. Somehow, Harold found out about me and my theory about Mothmen and Chief Cornstalk, who died two hundred years ago. That’s what he wanted to know about."</p><p></p><p>"The Mothmen?" asked Jim-Bean, his curiosity piqued. "Tell us about them."</p><p></p><p>"My grandfather told me the tribe’s stories of the Winged Ones, creatures who predated the world and who came down in the beginning of time from the constellation of the Great Bear. He claimed that these creatures mined the hills in the region for some special material, but I did not believe the tales at the time. Until my seventeenth year."</p><p></p><p>"Then you saw them," said Hammer quietly. </p><p></p><p>"Yes. Sixty-two years ago, I stumbled upon two of the Winged Ones in the darkened woods. The Winged Ones looks like glowing crabs the size of a deer. According to my grandfather, they can fly and even pass through objects, and they can imitate human speech in any language."</p><p></p><p>"What did they do when they saw you?" asked Archive. </p><p></p><p>"For three days the Winged Ones assaulted my shack, pelting it with stones and beckoning him with their inhuman voices. Finally, they killed my dog."</p><p></p><p>"Funny," said Jim-Bean. "We call them alien dogs."</p><p></p><p>"So you are familiar with them." said Waban. He looked sad. "I don't know why they did it. They left the dog's carcass on my front porch, as a warning I suppose. I swore off alcohol forever after that."</p><p></p><p>"Have you had contact with them since?"</p><p></p><p>Waban shook his head. "That was the last I saw of them. See, the Pennacook lived hereabouts before white settles pushed them out. Their last leader, Chief Cornstalk, was murdered by disgruntled soldiers, but with his dying breath Cornstalk pronounced a curse on the area, which summoned the Mothmen. Anyway, my own research indicates that this “curse” wasn’t so much a request for vengeance as an appeal for help. Using an ancient talisman, Chief Cornstalk called on the Mothmen, and they bound one of the soldiers to defend the burial mound to this day."</p><p></p><p>"And Gall was interested in Cornstalk?" asked Hammer.</p><p></p><p>"Specifically, his talisman," said Waban. "My research indicates that Chief Cornstalk was a powerful shaman whose lore descended from the peoples who first settled this part of North America over fifteen thousand years ago. Apparently, he possessed some sort of talisman that gave him the ability to call forth specific creatures from the spirit world into the world of flesh. By all accounts, this is the talisman Cornstalk used to call the Mothmen. The talisman is buried with the chief."</p><p></p><p>"What did he want with the mound?"</p><p></p><p>“Gall was obsessed with the Mothman. He thought they could save him somehow, and that the talisman would help him call them. He said it was they were the 'only ones that could cure him.' I told Harold Gall the location of the burial mound because he seemed so desperate."</p><p></p><p>"Gall's dead," said Jim-Bean matter of factly. </p><p></p><p>"That's too bad." Waban expressed the same sadness he expressed over his dog, perhaps a little less. </p><p></p><p>"Can you take us to the mound?" asked Hammer.</p><p></p><p>Waban nodded. "Chief Cornstalk’s mound is located near the TNT area north of town, but this isn’t information you’ll find in any history book. I’ve been to the mound, and I know how to get in."</p><p></p><p>"Great." Hammer got up. "Mind if we go now? We're in a bit of a rush…"</p><p></p><p>Waban shrugged and rose. "You are fortunate. The timing is just right. If we hurry, we should be able to enter the mound." </p><p></p><p>Before they could respond, Hammer got a buzz on his cistron. He looked down. "It's Sprague."</p><p></p><p>Hammer, aware of Waban's prying ears, kept it off speaker phone. "Uh huh. Uh huh. Yeah. Nope, got it." He hung up.</p><p></p><p>"What was that all about?" asked Archive.</p><p></p><p>"Warner's put a new team on this mission. A BLACK FLAG team."</p><p></p><p>"What's a BLACK FLAG team?" asked Archive. </p><p></p><p>"You don't want to know," said Jim-Bean.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4968998, member: 3285"] [b]Owlshead Mountain: Part 6 – Old Thomas[/b] Old Thomas Waban was a full-blooded Pennacook Indian who grew up in and around the Townsend area. Nearing eighty, he still managed for himself, living in a shack in the divot between Clastonbury and Owlshead Mountain. Thomas' shack was a three-room lodge that existed in the wooded depression. The path was too small for motor vehicles, forcing the agents to park by the roadside. The path wound through the sweet-smelling forest of spruce, pine, and cedar trees for three-hundred yards before opening up into a small clearing. It was located next to a small freshwater stream in a beautiful grassy clearing rich in wildflowers. The old American Indian was, perhaps surprisingly, splitting wood with an axe. Hammer stepped out into the clearing, raising his badge. "Are You Thomas Waban?" Thomas wiped his brow with a handkerchief in his pocket. "Yes. And you are with the government?" "You could say that," said Jim-Bean with a smirk. "Come inside." Inside the shack was a mishmash of early twentieth-century junk and Pennacook craftwork, a ceremonial staff standing right next to an old Esso gas pump covered in vines. His furniture was functional if a bit uncomfortable, and there was no beds evident anywhere in the house. He sat at a beaten up old table and gestured at the empty stools. "What can I do for you gentlemen?" Hammer, Jim-Bean, and Archive sat down with him. "Did you know Harold Gall?" “Yes. He contacted me awhile back, asking all sorts of questions about my specialty. Harold never told me where he came from or why he was so desperate to learn what I know." "Did you know anything about his employer?" Waban shook his head. “I don’t know where Harold worked. A couple of times he said that people were after him, but never explained who they were. We made an appointment to head out to the burial mound under cover of night, but he never showed up and I haven’t heard from him since. That’s strange, because he said something about the talisman being his only hope, whatever that means." "Wait a minute," said Archive. "Burial mound?" Waban spared Archive a smile. “You may not know it, but these mountains are famous in certain circles for Mothman sightings. I’m one of those folks who know Mothmen really appeared here. I’ve got proof. Somehow, Harold found out about me and my theory about Mothmen and Chief Cornstalk, who died two hundred years ago. That’s what he wanted to know about." "The Mothmen?" asked Jim-Bean, his curiosity piqued. "Tell us about them." "My grandfather told me the tribe’s stories of the Winged Ones, creatures who predated the world and who came down in the beginning of time from the constellation of the Great Bear. He claimed that these creatures mined the hills in the region for some special material, but I did not believe the tales at the time. Until my seventeenth year." "Then you saw them," said Hammer quietly. "Yes. Sixty-two years ago, I stumbled upon two of the Winged Ones in the darkened woods. The Winged Ones looks like glowing crabs the size of a deer. According to my grandfather, they can fly and even pass through objects, and they can imitate human speech in any language." "What did they do when they saw you?" asked Archive. "For three days the Winged Ones assaulted my shack, pelting it with stones and beckoning him with their inhuman voices. Finally, they killed my dog." "Funny," said Jim-Bean. "We call them alien dogs." "So you are familiar with them." said Waban. He looked sad. "I don't know why they did it. They left the dog's carcass on my front porch, as a warning I suppose. I swore off alcohol forever after that." "Have you had contact with them since?" Waban shook his head. "That was the last I saw of them. See, the Pennacook lived hereabouts before white settles pushed them out. Their last leader, Chief Cornstalk, was murdered by disgruntled soldiers, but with his dying breath Cornstalk pronounced a curse on the area, which summoned the Mothmen. Anyway, my own research indicates that this “curse” wasn’t so much a request for vengeance as an appeal for help. Using an ancient talisman, Chief Cornstalk called on the Mothmen, and they bound one of the soldiers to defend the burial mound to this day." "And Gall was interested in Cornstalk?" asked Hammer. "Specifically, his talisman," said Waban. "My research indicates that Chief Cornstalk was a powerful shaman whose lore descended from the peoples who first settled this part of North America over fifteen thousand years ago. Apparently, he possessed some sort of talisman that gave him the ability to call forth specific creatures from the spirit world into the world of flesh. By all accounts, this is the talisman Cornstalk used to call the Mothmen. The talisman is buried with the chief." "What did he want with the mound?" “Gall was obsessed with the Mothman. He thought they could save him somehow, and that the talisman would help him call them. He said it was they were the 'only ones that could cure him.' I told Harold Gall the location of the burial mound because he seemed so desperate." "Gall's dead," said Jim-Bean matter of factly. "That's too bad." Waban expressed the same sadness he expressed over his dog, perhaps a little less. "Can you take us to the mound?" asked Hammer. Waban nodded. "Chief Cornstalk’s mound is located near the TNT area north of town, but this isn’t information you’ll find in any history book. I’ve been to the mound, and I know how to get in." "Great." Hammer got up. "Mind if we go now? We're in a bit of a rush…" Waban shrugged and rose. "You are fortunate. The timing is just right. If we hurry, we should be able to enter the mound." Before they could respond, Hammer got a buzz on his cistron. He looked down. "It's Sprague." Hammer, aware of Waban's prying ears, kept it off speaker phone. "Uh huh. Uh huh. Yeah. Nope, got it." He hung up. "What was that all about?" asked Archive. "Warner's put a new team on this mission. A BLACK FLAG team." "What's a BLACK FLAG team?" asked Archive. "You don't want to know," said Jim-Bean. [/QUOTE]
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