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

[Job]

Following the events of our Prologue Thread

21-August-1933

A week after the fundraiser event, things have almost settled down to normal. You have not been asked by the police to suffer through any further questioning sessions in three days and you've been anxiously awaiting word from James Starkweather and Professor Moore regarding the start of preparations for the expedition. You've even taken some time so do a little sightseeing in New York City.

This morning, as you walk through the sunlit, glistening lobby area, you notice that there continues to be two uniformed policeman noticeably present in the area. One is stationed at the front entranceway, as usual; the second policeman is behind the lobby desk, examining records and talking with the manager.


For all approved expedition members (i.e. Camille - Keep out!)[sblock]
As you walk to the lobby desk to check for messages, the desk clerk greets you by name, bows, and scans the mailbins for your room. He plucks an envelope from your room slot and hands it to you. Inside the envelope, you find a folded, handwritten note:

Please be so good as to join us at the ship as soon as you have freshened up. SS Gabrielle. Pier 74-B, 12th Avenue at 34th, next to the Italian Royal Mail berth.

Regards,
Moore

OOC - On the attached map, the Amherst Hotel is represented by a red star, and Pier 74 is marked with a blue star.[/sblock]

 

[Job]

A Package for Jim Poole

Jim nods to Hubert, responding, "Well, best I could muster was the Corps of engineers. I'm no war hero, but I did my part like everybody else. And you know, that would be great if your gents could send me some clippings, or at least lemme come down to their office. I do love a good story." Jim's curiosity is getting the better of him as was his drawl. Being in the field at the time of receiving the invitation, he had little time to do any research on the man that Starkweather was.

Hubert Broughton paused. "Story... Yes, if I remember correctly, our Commander Starkweather actually wrote a couple of books. When I get back to my office, I'll contact my friends at the Tribune and ask them to look through their files. If they find anything, I'll have them contact your hotel. In the meantime, you might want to pay a visit to the library." Hubert reached into his jacket, retrieved a well-worn pocket notepad and fountain pen, wrote himself a reminder, then said with a wink and a smile, "Just be sure to keep me in mind if you find something interesting in your travels."

When Jim stops to check his messages at the Amherst Hotel lobby desk, the clerk retrieves a small, brown-paper-wrapped package from under the desk and hands it to him. From it's weight and size, you guess that it's a book. Written on the outside of the package is the following:

TO: James Poole
Amherst Hotel

FROM: Hubert Broughton
American Geographic Society​

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

 

[Taokan]

Politely brushing past the doorman as she exited the hotel, Camille hailed a cab at the curb. She had hoped that the day could be spent buying more supplies, seeing as she had harbored a secret fear of the cold several years before. Some would question her grasp on sanity if they learned that, wondering under their breath why in the name of all that was sacred why someone who had had a mild case of Frigophobia would travel to Antartica. Well, as long as those theoretical gossip-mongers didn't learn about it, what was the harm?

Thus her time would be well spent buying more insulating layers for her clothes, and perhaps a small space heater. She also had to make a brief stop at a gun store, as upon further inspection of her automatic ammo, Camille had concluded that two cases simply were not enough.

Perhaps this had something to do with the unsettling new stories she had briefly skimmed in an out-of-date newspaper clipping a week ago. That, added to the alleged sponateous combustion article put in as an afternote after the large piece on the galla, put her on edge. Any word of deaths unsettled her.

 

[Job]

Picking up where our prologue left off:

Martin outside the hotel and hails a cab.
"To the docks please."

After Martin picks up his message at the lobby desk from Dr. Moore, he exits the hotel into the Summer heat, feeling as if he's walked into a sauna. The sun seems intensely bright and, shielding his eyes with his hand, Martin notices the approach of two gentleman and a woman with notepads. "Martin Lawrence! What happened last week at the fundraiser?" "Martin, do you have anything to report?"

The female reporter, dressed in a pale yellow skirt and white blouse, looks at Martin and says "Martin? Is that really you? I thought that you were in Cuba."

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

 

[Drowned Hero]

A boy dressed in the uniform and colors of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel enters the lobby. He fast moves over to the man behind the lobby desk.

"Sir" "I got a letter to one of your"... "eh" "visitors or clients" "yeah" "its from a crazy norwegian at the Waldorf Astorian" ... he suddenly shuts his mouth realizing he are talking to much.
The man behind the desk smiles at the boy and replies "I take care of this boy" "and you should learn that privacy is a thing all customers apreciate" he recives the letter from the hands of the boy and reads the name "James Starkweather" he turn around and stack the letter with several others Mr.Starkweather had recived this morning.


[sblock]



New York city 19-August-1933



To: James Starkweather
Amherst Hotel
8th Avenue and 44th StreeT
New York City, New York

Dear Mr. Starkweather,

I have been told that you are offering job and may be using a Dog Handler/Sled Driver for an upcoming expedition to uncharted parts of the Antarctic continent.
I have never been that far south on our planet, but experience with snow, low temperatures, ice, ice skating, sleds and winter just in general, I do have.

I'm a Norwegian from the city off Tromsø. I spend the most of the year. Almost ¾ of it working with “samer” a native tribe of northern Norway, Sweden and Finland. Farming reindeer trough the hard winter. Allways on the move, we only use Dog driven sled, and im been doing this for 20 years.

I am 35 years old. And started my outdoor life quite early when my brother was fun of taking me with him at his fisher boat to hunt poler bears in spring, at age 10. You must know that up here in north a boy becomes man quite early.

I hope you are in use of my skills. I got a lot more of them, but lets at least agree a meeting. I like to see my potential employer face to face.
I am actually in New York visiting a friend that was exploring the northern Norway a year ago. I must say that I'm really impressed with this huge town and its nightlife.

Sincerely,

Øyvind Raknes.

Waldorf Astoria Hotel
301 Park Avenue New York City
Room 403

[/sblock]

 

[Morpheus]

After Martin picks up his message at the lobby desk from Dr. Moore, he exits the hotel into the Summer heat, feeling as if he's walked into a sauna. The sun seems intensely bright and, shielding his eyes with his hand, Martin notices the approach of two gentleman and a woman with notepads. "Martin LeBlanc! What happened last week at the fundraiser?" "Martin, do you have anything to report?"

The female reporter, dressed in a pale yellow skirt and white blouse, looks at Martin and says "Martin? Is that really you? I thought that you were in Cuba."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Job (the tortured one).

A cab pulls up to the curb.
"Jean, is that you? How nice it is to see you again! I'm on my way to the S.S. Gabrielle right now, but if you want to join me for dinner tonight, meet me back here at the hotel at 6:00. We can then get caught up."
Martin kisses Jean lightly on the cheek and then hops into the waiting cab.

 

[Job]

August 23, 1933​

Dear Øyvind Raknes,

Thank you for your letter of the 19th. It is indeed a great pleasure to approve your application to become a team member of the Starkweather—Moore Expedition of 1933.

First, let me congratulate you on your extraordinary determination and successes within the rigorous demands of your Nordic clime. Our expedition will include four dozen dogs of varying temperment, along with their sleds and other requisite equipment, and I’m sure that we will greatly benefit from your expertise in this area. Add to that your experiences in working the fishing lanes along the Norwegian Sea, and the necessary competence with nautical trips and gear, and I cannot help but feel that you will be of primary help in assuring our glory and accolades!

This is a noble endeavor that you have committed yourself to, Sir! The Antarctic environment is unforgiving and alien, and only the most seasoned and courageous of adventurers would dare to tread that shunned continent. I can say without worry of contradiction that even the great Christopher Columbus would have hesitated at the thought of such an expedition! This will be a landmark achievement in all of the history of mankind and at the end of your days, the last thing you will remember is the vast snowy plains of the Antarctic, and the cold white peaks of the Miskatonic Mountains!

As soon as you are able, please be so kind as to report to Dr. Moore at the SS Gabrielle. Pier 74-B, 12th Avenue at 34th, next to the Italian Royal Mail berth.

Sincerely,

James Starkweather
Expedition Leader​

​

Amherst Hotel
8th Avenue and 44th Street
New York City, New York​

 

[Drowned Hero]

Øyvind Raknes

August 23, 1933​

Dear Øyvind Raknes,

Thank you for your letter of the 19th. It is indeed a great pleasure to approve your application to become a team member of the Starkweather—Moore Expedition of 1933.

First, let me congratulate you on your extraordinary determination and successes within the rigorous demands of your Nordic clime. Our expedition will include four dozen dogs of varying temperment, along with their sleds and other requisite equipment, and I’m sure that we will greatly benefit from your expertise in this area. Add to that your experiences in working the fishing lanes along the Norwegian Sea, and the necessary competence with nautical trips and gear, and I cannot help but feel that you will be of primary help in assuring our glory and accolades!

This is a noble endeavor that you have committed yourself to, Sir! The Antarctic environment is unforgiving and alien, and only the most seasoned and courageous of adventurers would dare to tread that shunned continent. I can say without worry of contradiction that even the great Christopher Columbus would have hesitated at the thought of such an expedition! This will be a landmark achievement in all of the history of mankind and at the end of your days, the last thing you will remember is the vast snowy plains of the Antarctic, and the cold white peaks of the Miskatonic Mountains!

As soon as you are able, please be so kind as to report to Dr. Moore at the SS Gabrielle. Pier 74-B, 12th Avenue at 34th, next to the Italian Royal Mail berth.

Sincerely,

James Starkweather
Expedition Leader​

​

Amherst Hotel
8th Avenue and 44th Street
New York City, New York​

He slowly open the letter and reads it.

“My god! He has accepted me!“

The black haired chambermaid jumped at the loud sound the Norwegian made cheering and grabbing a bottle of champagne. “Miss Janet” he said closing on eye at her “want a glass?” she smiled a big smile “Mr.Raknes” she said very seriously “you know i only can take me that kind of liberties after I'm done with work” she smiled again and seeing over her shoulder she leaved the apartment closing the door after her.

Fine she is, I hope I have the opportunity to jump in bed with her again tonight.
Now to do some work.
Should i take all my gear with me? Hmmm, the letter don't say anything about it, so i guess he don't want all my stuff right now.

He goes to his closet and dresses up. He was still only wearing his trousers and a linen shirt. Meanwhile he dresses he drinks ¼ off the champagne bottle. Once finished he grabs his revolver and load it, hiding it in the inner pocket of his jacket. Wallet, revolver, identification papers, pocket watch, pocket knife. I think i got all

He walks out his door and down the hallway, as he passes Miss Janet he grab her bottom with grate skill, making her scream turning over to laughter when she realizes who it was... as the elevator door was open he rapidly goes in, making first a final flirt with the chambermaid before he hits the button to the first floor.

Once on the street he stops a taxi “SS Gabrielle. Pier 74-B, 12th Avenue at 34th are you kind"

One the way he tried to absorb all impression the city gives him trying to store it in his memorize as the day the great adventure started.

 

[Job]

Martin kisses Jean lightly on the cheek and then hops into the waiting cab.

Once on the street Øyvind stops a taxi “SS Gabrielle. Pier 74-B, 12th Avenue at 34th are you kind"

One the way he tried to absorb all impression the city gives him trying to store it in his memorize as the day the great adventure started.

The thirteen block trip to the docks takes only a few minutes by taxi. You pull up at the foot of West 34th Street, and cross over Twelfth Avenue to the pier shed front. A small sign has been stenciled and nailed up near one of the two large doors:

STARKWEATHER-MOORE
ANTARCTIC EXPEDITION
PLEASE CHECK IN
WITH GUARD
NO SMOKING​

An overweight Port Authority guard in the small office at the door checks to see if your name corresponds to one on his clipboard. After satisfying himself of your clearance, he looks up and says "Go on in, bud."

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

 

[Job]

The Docks

The Hudson River docks are a place of constant motion. Smells of the sea water, oil, fish, and damp wood are mixed with the sweat of the stevedores, and fill the air. Dozens of ships of all sizes and description are tied up here, in various stages of loading or unloading. Huge cranes swing heavy loads overhead, and the ground is littered with cast-off broken packing materials, splintered wooden crates, broken glass, and bits of metal.

As you make your way to the SS Gabrielle, you are bumped into and sworn at by the stevedores, who stride off without looking back. It takes nimble footwork to avoid being knocked over or shouted at by one of the dockhands.

Tied up on the north side of Pier 74 along the Hudson River shores of New York City is the USS Gabrielle, its bow facing out. On south south side of the pier, the brightly lit and well-maintained facilities of the Italian Royal Mail line make the expedition's berth seem shabby and unimportant.

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