[D20 CoC] Beyond the Mountains of Madness - Chapter 1; Recruiting Alternate Players

[Job]

'Good bye gentelmen I and the lady have much things to do'

If you'll excuse me, I do have things to do other than stand about the roadside answering questions. Au revoir." Opening the cab door nearest her Camille slid into the seat, closing the door behind her.

As the cab pulls out into traffic and leaves the newspaper reporters behind, George and Camille are able to enjoy a brief, peaceful moment on their way to the docks. Once they arrive at the pier and exit their cab, however, they must again run a gauntlet of shouting newsmen before passing through the main gate to the ship. Fortunately, the guard does not allow the newsmen beyond his station.

George leads Camille to the hatches on the main deck and then down the ladders that lead below through the tweendecks to the lower holds. He finds the tweendeck areas just as dark and cluttered as when he last traveled through here to verify the manifests, but this time he descends one additional level lower with Camille. As the pair go about their climbing and searching, they are treated to a variety of unnerving sounds; the groanings of the ship structure, echoes of rattling chains and creaking boxes, and occasional bumps and thuds that can be felt as well as heard.

You visited each lower hold in turn and, each time as you began to descend the final ladder, you immediately noticed the strong smell of petroleum. The lower holds were shadowy, cavernous areas lit by strings of cluster lights along long extension cords and you found each in various stages of preparation. You remembered Dr. Moore telling you that each hold was to be outfitted with alternating layers of wood planking and 60-gallon barrels filled with fuel, and that the dismantled aeroplanes would be lashed into place atop the tiers. In Lower Hold 1, you found that the wooden structures and barrels were neatly stacked in place, but in the other holds the drums of oil had been left in clusters of disarray and the planking had yet to be nailed into place by the ship's carpenter.

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Job (the tortured one).

 

[Job]

The cabbie drops Martin off at the Times Tower at 42nd and Broadway and 7th Avenue. After showing his press credentials in the lobby, Martin is led to the New York Times newspaper morgue to begin his research.

Later that day, deep within the bowels of the New York Times archives, Martin is seated at a long wooden table piled high with reams of newpapers that he's pulled from the files. Collections of each week's printed newspapers have been hole-punched, separately bound within large heavy cardboard covers, and pinched together with metal bolts and clips. As Martin flips through the slightly-yellowed pages, he occasionally scribbles notes in a nearby notepad or runs off through the aisles to locate other volumes.

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Job (the tortured one).

 

[Job]

...maybe we should hit the night life of NY before we get on that floating can, what you say? I think we even could get Starkweather on that one!

Enke and Olav stare at Øyvind with blank looks on their faces. Olav finally speaks, "Captain Starkweather? To join us at speakeasy?" The two looked at other and smiled, then Olav said "We will go with you, yes? "But captain, no." Olav then studied Øyvind's face for a moment and asks, You are joking, yes? He is too busy. And too mad." As he said the last word, he made a deep, angry frowning face as if he were James Starkweather scolding a crewmate, and Enke broke out in laughter.

Øyvind laugh a mighty laugh and and puts his hand in his pocket and takes out his box with snus'You want some? Is that Swedish kind General its called'

Both Enke and Olav stand and move closer to Øyvind to examine his tin of snuff and Øyvind then sees that Enke is a burly bear of a man, standing at least a half foot taller and much broader in the chest than Øyvind himself, while Olav is significantly shorter. As they examine Øyvind's tin of snuff, they both smile and nod, saying "Takk, Øyvind!". They each take a small pinch of snuff, placing it in the pouches of their cheeks. Enke's hands are so enormous that he finds it difficult to reach into the pouch and withdraw a small amount, but his movements seem very gentle for such a large individual and eventually manages to do so after saying, "Sorry Øyvind!" a few times.

He turns to go and grab a cab 'come on, let me show you this thing i want to get'

Enke and Olav appear quite happy to follow Øyvind around the city.

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Job (the tortured one).

 

[Taokanf]

Camille frowned at the lack of organization. How could the dunderheads who put the supplies here expect anything else to fit? Hopefully they'd be reprimanded later. Sighing, she turned to George, and smiled exasperatedly.

"We should probably alert someone as to the state of these holds, Monsieur Barrow. Nothing can be secured here with them in this state. I'd move them myself, but I personally am not that strong, and you, monsieur, couldn't move all of them." At least, she didn't think so. The man wasn't a machine, even if he could move a few- he'd need help.

 

[Morpheus]

Martin carefully sifts through the piles of newspapers. Seconds become minutes. Minutes become hours. After a while he stands up and says to no one in particular, "Alas, I have..."

OOC: Did I find any information? [Research +6]

 

[Job]

Martin carefully sifts through the piles of newspapers. Seconds become minutes. Minutes become hours. After a while he stands up and says to no one in particular, "Alas, I have..."

OOC: Did I find any information? [Research +6]

For Martin's Eyes Only
[sblock]Martin found something (but this does not necessarily mean that he succeeded in his Research ). Information was sent via the ether (email) to Morpheus, his puppeteer. If you need me to resend this information for any reason, just say the word.

Job.[/sblock]

***EDIT NOTE: For ease of reference, I have attached the articles that were previously sent by email***

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Job (the tortured one).

 

[Drowned Hero]

Camille frowned at the lack of organization. How could the dunderheads who put the supplies here expect anything else to fit? Hopefully they'd be reprimanded later. Sighing, she turned to George, and smiled exasperatedly.

"We should probably alert someone as to the state of these holds, Monsieur Barrow. Nothing can be secured here with them in this state. I'd move them myself, but I personally am not that strong, and you, monsieur, couldn't move all of them." At least, she didn't think so. The man wasn't a machine, even if he could move a few- he'd need help.

'I think you are, right miss' 'we should get some help' he looks around with his flashlight feeling the cold and humidity of the ship 'I'm sure Øyvind and the other dog guys can help us out' 'Enke and Olav seems like what we need down here and Øyvind could walk his dogs around here too' 'maybe they can catch some rats or something...' He turns to walk upwards the ladder... 'are you staying here taking a look at the other stuff? or you coming?, i only got this flashlight'

ooc : [sblock]my bigger brother, that usually plays Øyvind is unader a big load of studying. Im going to play him a time. If anything important happends i will ask him what his character will do. Imagine him attacking Chutulhu with his fists
Job. I hope you are having better days [/sblock]

 

[Drowned Hero]

Gerorge Barrow Scientist

George started to climb the ladders taking him to the higher levels. After some searching he suddenly hears a gramophone playing Alexander's Ragtime Band of Louis Armstrong. He is curious about where the sounds come from beeing surprised when he sees Øyvind lent back in a big comfy chair, boots on a crag and holding his snus tinbox in one hand and a beer in the other.

'Hey Øyvind i did not know that you where a Louis Armstrong fan... He is a quite new artist here in America... you hear this kind of music in Norway?' he sits on a crag besides Enke and Olav, they have obviously never hear this music before as they are watching the gramophone play with closed eyes and taping the rhythm with their feet's. 'You head that Miss Camille Bardier has joined our expedition?' 'shes assigned to the lower decks and need some help with some broken holds' He sits down from the crag to the floor close his eyes and enjoy the music.

 

[Drowned Hero]

Øyvind Raknes Sled Driver

'Hey Øyvind i did not know that you where a Louis Armstrong fan... He is a quite new artist here in America... you hear this kind of music in Norway?'

'You head that Miss Camille Bardier has joined our expedition?' 'shes assigned to the lower decks and need some help with some broken holds'

'In Norway? no no, well not from where i am. the only music i hear up north is when a local has a violin and starts playing some well known piece for a coin or two' he sips from his beer and slips a snus piece under his lip 'yes i head on of the pier lads making some jokes about a pretty lady coming to this filthy part of the harbor' 'no place for a lady you ask me, but if we need her so be it' ... 'if shes looking for muscles shes in the right spot, you agree boys?' he says as he elbows Olav laughing a short laugh.

Ooc: [sblock]Im asuming that Cammile is not comming or that shes is taking some more mins then George on the way. Øyvind would not says these thing with her present.[/sblock]

 

[Job]

From a recess deep within the interior of the U.S.S Gabrielle, the tinny sound of a sad, soulful trumpet emerges from a gramophone's horn to surround a small group of men, echoes from the ship's metal skin, wanders down aisles of crates and boxes and sacks, and dies amidst the darkness.

[Øyvind] ... sips from his beer and slips a snus piece under his lip 'yes i head on of the pier lads making some jokes about a pretty lady coming to this filthy part of the harbor' 'no place for a lady you ask me, but if we need her so be it' ... 'if shes looking for muscles shes in the right spot, you agree boys?' he says as he elbows Olav laughing a short laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Job (the tortured one).

 

[Job]

Camille frowned at the lack of organization. How could the dunderheads who put the supplies here expect anything else to fit? Hopefully they'd be reprimanded later. Sighing, she turned to George, and smiled exasperatedly.

"We should probably alert someone as to the state of these holds, Monsieur Barrow. Nothing can be secured here with them in this state. I'd move them myself, but I personally am not that strong, and you, monsieur, couldn't move all of them." At least, she didn't think so. The man wasn't a machine, even if he could move a few- he'd need help.

'I think you are, right miss' 'we should get some help' he looks around with his flashlight feeling the cold and humidity of the ship 'I'm sure Øyvind and the other dog guys can help us out' 'Enke and Olav seems like what we need down here and Øyvind could walk his dogs around here too' 'maybe they can catch some rats or something...' He turns to walk upwards the ladder... 'are you staying here taking a look at the other stuff? or you coming?, i only got this flashlight'...

...George started to climb the ladders taking him to the higher levels. After some searching he suddenly hears a gramophone playing Alexander's Ragtime Band of Louis Armstrong. He is curious about where the sounds come from beeing surprised when he sees Øyvind lent back in a big comfy chair, boots on a crag and holding his snus tinbox in one hand and a beer in the other.

Camille continued to examine the hold as George departed to find help, and she began to sense the darkness. Dim incandescant lamps hanging from the ceiling gently swayed with the ship; shadows shifting, enlarging and shrinking with each rocking motion. She noticed that the light failed to penetrate to the far corners of the hold where the shroud of black offered concealment for...

...something scratching. Camille could hear something back in the corner.

And then she heard a faint, soulful trumpet playing behind her, up the ladder, far away in some other hold.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Job (the tortured one).

 

[Job]

Martin carefully sifts through the piles of newspapers. Seconds become minutes. Minutes become hours. After a while he stands up and says to no one in particular, "Alas, I have..."

...spent much too much time in this dungeon! But perhaps, I have found what I need. Very curious... A death and a missing rare manuscript?" With that, Martin closed the books, pushed in his chair, and departed the archives.

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Job (the tortured one).

 

[Drowned Hero]

Louis Armstrong and His Orchestra

The ship echoes with the sound of a dark voice and a trumpet. The waves seems suddenly to move the ship gently up and down and from side to side. The working men on deck, the rooms and cabins inside the hull and the lower deck can hear the faint music. The rats feels it vibrations trough the otherwise cracking metal that makes the ship.

Louis Armstrong and His Orchestra - St. James Infirmary

[sblock]Another window will open and load the audio file. You should be able to hear it trough the browser[/sblock]

 

[Job]

Rap-tap-tap-tap!

Rap-tap-tap-tap!

The impatient drumming of fingers on a gray steel desk echoed in the Ship's Mess.

Rap-tap-tap-tap!

"Hmmph. I wonder what's keeping Mr. Barrow and Ms. Bardier," muttered Professor Moore to himself. He reached into the right pocket of his tweed jacket and withdrew a gold pocket watch, flipped open its cover, and squinted at the face. "They should've returned some time ago. I guess that I'll need to investigate the hold myself."

After a long sigh, he stood from his desk, walked across the mess and exited through the doorway. Echoes of his mumbling voice faded down the hall with his footsteps.

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Job (the tortured one).

 

[Taokanf]

Camille sighed in exasperation and seized the first decently-sized board at hand. Great. A rat. ...Or a stowaway: a dumb stowaway. Boats attracted rats after all, and not just the quadraped kind.

Crouching on the floor, Camille pulled off her left boot, hurling it into the shadows at the noise. Maybe this will flush it out.

 

[Taokanf]

... Errant post ...

 

[Job]

George ... is curious about where the sounds come from being surprised when he sees Øyvind lent back in a big comfy chair, boots on a crag and holding his snus tinbox in one hand and a beer in the other.

'Hey Øyvind i did not know that you where a Louis Armstrong fan... He is a quite new artist here in America... you hear this kind of music in Norway?' he sits on a crag besides Enke and Olav, they have obviously never hear this music before as they are watching the gramophone play with closed eyes and taping the rhythm with their feet's.
...
He sits down from the crag to the floor close his eyes and enjoy the music.

Enke and Olav also seem to appreciate Louis Armstrong's trumpet playing and remarked that the dogs must also like it since they've quieted down a bit. Olav smiled, saying, "Ja, dat Mister Armstrong is good. Almost good as cousin Johan!"

At that moment, Øyvind, George, Enke and Olav hear the sound of someone descending the ladder from the main deck.

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Job (the tortured one).

 

[Job]

Camille sighed in exasperation and seized the first decently-sized board at hand. Great. A rat. ...Or a stowaway: a dumb stowaway. Boats attracted rats after all, and not just the quadraped kind.

Crouching on the floor, Camille pulled off her left boot, hurling it into the shadows at the noise. Maybe this will flush it out.

The boot bounced off a layer of boards into the dark corner and something skittered away in the shadows along the wall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Job (the tortured one).

 

[Drowned Hero]

Øyvind Raknes Sled driver.

At that moment, Øyvind, George, Enke and Olav hear the sound of someone descending the ladder from the main deck.

Øyvind turns in a lazy manner his head towards the ladder, disrupting him from his thoughts about a certain lady in Bergen. 'hey that reminds me that i must walk the dogs, have you seen that the dogs are getting bigger?' he bumps George with his elbow 'That must be that good mixture of yours in the feeding program you put them on' 'Enke, Olav you have been working hard today' 'in that box under the red carpet theres a surprise for you I got some beer from a friend of mine yesterday, hard to find you know... whit the prohibition going on and stuff'
He walks to the nearby cages, now fully fixed and with a pretty wooden sign on each one, with the names of the dogs. Grumphy was the natural leader a furry young male dog. Øyvind let the whole team lose calling at them, rewarding them for the obedience and attaching them to a harness he wear around his waist. 'George you mind walk with me down to the miss?' 'I think the three of us could get the problem solved quite fast'

[sblock]Just permiting me some dialog with George before mr.moore, if its him, climbs the ladder[/sblock]

 

[Drowned Hero]

George Barrow Scientits

'hey that reminds me that i must walk the dogs, have you seen that the dogs are getting bigger?'

'George you mind walk with me down to the miss?' 'I think the three of us could get the problem solved quite fast'

'Yes yes my friend I've seen remarkable sign on gain in muscle mass and growth, yes they got a special protein rich mixture that in simple it provides the right material for them to digest and make more muscle fibers' 'remarkable that the physiology in animals as in humans has very much of the same workings in nature' 'well as in the physiology books of Dr.Malkim or Dr.Hill where they assure us that....' he looks at Øyvind and sees a him not even listening at him as he stated to talk science 'anyways...' 'yes their bigger' he hears a noise and sees some feet coming down the hatch 'yes yes Mrs.Bardier, lets get down to her'