chapter 1, session 1, day 1
Somewhere the next morning while Coen and Richard walk down the stairs for an early breakfast. To prepare for a day on the town to find out if there is anything interesting to do here and some shopping as well. As they continue down the staircase a girl, one of the hotel maids, runs up towards them grabbing Coen by his sweater while she looks frantically around as if something was hunting her.
“Her head, her head was… and I could see her lung—I think it was a—I almost slipped in it. The carpet squelched and I almost slipped in it. Her head… staring at me with the one eye left—it was under the bed, staring at me.”
Coen and Richard gave each other a cold stare with just one though crossing both their minds: “For the love of God, not again.” Coen sits the girl down in one of the chairs in the foyer downstairs while Richard hurries back to wake the rest to go and see what’s been going on while they slept.
They are all quickly dressed and hurrying down the stairs after Richard where they pick up Coen who has learned that the rest of the trouble of last night was to be found in room 107. Room 107 Mark thinks… that’s Dr. Carmichael’s room! When the five reach the room they find its door still open, the maid clearly not been in the presence of mind to lock the door when she staggered into the hallway and ran away. They slowly push the door further open to uncover a horrible and disgusting scene.
Room 107 is a double-size room dominated by a king-size bed in the middle of the room. Like all the southern rooms, it features a large window overlooking the chasm. This window has been broken in, and glass lies on the carpet and windowsill. The frame is also broken and splintered as if something very large came in through the window.
Dr. Carmichael’s remains are mostly on the floor between the window and the door and appear to have been partially eaten. Her haid is missing large chunks of tissue from its left side and has rolled under the bed. The lower half of her right leg is also under the bed. The upper half of the leg is nowhere to be found. Blood is splattered across the walls and has soaked through the carpeting all the way into the floor. There’s even some blood on the ceiling.
As the image of the disgusting site sinks in and their brains start to comprehend what they are witnessing Richard turns around and throws up, sick with what he just witnessed. Mark realizing what he is witnessing mumbles some faint words before fainting, Patrick catches him before he falls down into the messy goo on the floor. While Patrick takes care of Mark and Richard, Coen and Rom decide to take a closer look at the scene. Both covering their mouths and noses with a piece of their clothing to protect them against the worst of the smell slowly take a few steps into the room. As they step around carefully they notice cuts that might be claw marks on the windowsill. Closer examination from the two reveals matching marks on Carmichael’s body.
As the sheriff arrives and they show him what they found he admits that they might be the claw marks of a bear.
“We don’t often get bear attacks around these parts,” he says. “But it’s been a tough winter, and when they get hungry, there’s no telling what they’ll do.”
The sheriff is visibly not pleased with finding the same five as last night at the crime scene. He is not pleased at all to see them and tells them so on uncertain terms. Together with his deputy, Sean Dumont, he insists that they meet with him in an empty hotel conference room to discuss their activities of the last two days.
Sheriff Wilheim interrogates the investigators aggressively and at great length but in the end has to let them go. There is no doubt that the five investigators are sheriff Willheims prime suspects. Nevertheless, he doesn’t have enough evidence to book them, so instead he just snarled a warning.
By late morning, the wind and snow have died down, leaving four- to seven-foot drifts across the landscape. The streets are passable—just barely—by afternoon, mostly due to the efforts of a few locals with plows on their pickup trucks. Because they are used to blizzards and snow, most stores and government offices in town are still open.
Word of the sheriff’s suspicions drift out to the population at large, and the investigators soon find the townspeople looking at them strangely and hurrying out of their path as they walk around town for some information and some shopping. Only Mark remained at the Clearwater Hotel to take care of the piccolo, the elderly female guest and of Julia, the maid, and he finds out that this is even true of the hotel staff, and though they maintain their professional demeanor, their smiles are plastic and forced. The only folks who don’t seem to mind the fives’ sudden notoriety are the other hotel guests.
That afternoon the four that went to town are at the only real shop in town: Markham’s General Store. The largest retail outlet in town, it started out selling provisions and mining supplies to prospectors; today its main products are gasoline (it has the only pump in town) and alcohol. The business also carries a large assortment of household goods, camping supplies, automotive products, and various other odds and ends. Unfortunately for Richard and Patrick the store doesn’t sell any firearms or ammunition so they all end up buying a survival knife for their protection. That along with some household goods that might come in handy, like some rope, flashlights with extra batteries and the likes. Rom also purchased two gallons of pure alcohol, what he plans to do with that is everyone’s guess.
After their little shopping endeavor Rom decides to go back to the Hotel, where on the way back he spots Mark heading for town looking for what the rest is doing. Mark hooks up with the rest at the central square where they were just entering their cars to go and see what’s going on in this town, first stop: Delaney Ming Inc. Easily the largest building in town, the offices of DMI take up a full city block at the eastern edge of Miners Folly.
So the four enter the squat two-story brick building, and the first thing they notice is a flattering photograph of a Maximilian Delaney that hangs in a gilded frame in the DMI lobby. They proceed to make a chat with the girl behind the desk that offers them to take a tour of the mine if they like. They don’t have much visitors and with a smile she tells them it might be a interesting experience. The four accept and on their way to the mine, half a mile north of town they decide to step by the Town Hall. Miner’s Folly’s town hall looks like a converted schoolhouse, which is exactly what it is. It contains the mayor’s office, city and county records, the courtroom, the town’s council chamber and The Valley Voice Newspaper. The insides are decorated with garish murals depicting sweating men ripping chunks of unrecognizable minerals out of the ground and loading them onto trains.
Just inside the door is an enormous portrait of a dour looking middle-aged man in a suit. A plate at the bottom of the frame reads, “Jasper Delaney, founder of Delaney Mining and Patriarch of our glorious city.” The painting is dated 1908 and bears a striking resemblance to the portrait of Maximilian hanging in the DMI office. Further they learn at the town hall that Maximilian, except for being the current owner of DMI is also the effective owner and ruler of Miner’s Folly.
Continuing their investigation they go to the second floor of the building to find The Valley Voice newspaper located there. It’s published every two weeks and is distributed for free throughout Miner’s Folly and the other nearby towns of Snowflake Valley. It’s mostly a tourist newspaper they learn after reading through an edition of the paper, full of skiing reports and coupons for free beer at local taverns, but also the current gossip pages. While reading through the latest edition from last week they are greeted by a young man introducing himself as Justin Miller, editor of the newspaper. He’s looking for something to boost his reputation by and when the investigators tell him that they are looking into the recent murders and other strange happenings he offers them help to search his newspaper archives in search for something useful.
A few hours digging through the newspaper archives reveals much to the investigators. Of particular interest is an article from 1923 describing how a group of Native Americans tried to break into Matthew Delaney’s (Maximilian’s predecessor) mansion. Further searching reveals an article from 1934 telling of a miner’s gruesome death—maybe murder, maybe an animal attack not unlike the death of Cynthia Carmichael. Finally they discover that there have been similar deaths every 10 years or so since the paper began in 1905 and that they are happening more often in recent years than ever before.
As the investigators reappear from the Town Hall it is already dark after their many hours of searching through the archives and while they look at the setting sun over the snowy plain below the mountains Rom calls in to see where they are at since he expected them back a few hours ago. They all get back into their cars and head back for the hotel, but as they leave town they catch a glimpse of a mysterious Native American watching them from the distance. As soon as they take their eyes of him for a moment he’s gone and leaves them with nothing but an awkward feeling deep inside…
That evening, as they eat supper in the Valley View Restaurant, Mark happens to make eye contact with a man who is dining alone a few tables away and staring at him intently. Recognizing him from the photograph as Maximilian Delaney he appears to be about 70 years old, mostly bald, and dressed in a dark gray business suit. He is tall and lanky, with piercing blue eyes—which lock onto Mark who is now looking back at him.
The room falls suddenly silent as Delaney and Mark lock gazes. A moment later Mark realizes that time has stopped around him: His friends and the other guests frozen mid-bite, their food and utensils suspended in front of their faces. Only Delaney and Mark are moving… Delaney breaks off eye contact, then ignores Mark as he sips his soup. His voice, however, echoes inside Mark’s head.
“You did well to come here,” the voice says calmly. “You have done all that I have commanded, and I am well pleased. But now you must leave. You cannot begin to phantom the secrets of this valley, and nothing good can come from your interference.”
Before Mark can act, the scene returns to normal and time flows as usual once more. The table where Delaney was sitting is now empty, though his soup bowl and whine glass are still there. Mark, unsure about what he just experienced dismisses it as something strange and as a symptom of the stress and horrors of the last two days and keeps the experience to himself not sure what to make of it.
That night Richard and Rom, searching the Net for more information and personal amusement get rudely snapped out of their ruse by the sound of banging and scratching outside Richard’s room window. First they dismiss it as the wind rattling the windows, but when they hear the crunch of snow and a solid thump against the wall, it’s impossible to deny that something is out there.
Richard who is brave enough to open the drapes looks down to the ground below, and spots a hunched, humanoid shape lurking in the shadows of the hotel, shuffling along the thin ledge between the Clearwater and the chasm. It crouches back into leaping stance, raising its head towards Richard’s window. Seeing Richard there, the creature suddenly turns and shambles off, out of sight of the window. Its tracks, however, show up plainly in the snow, highlighted by the bright moonlight.
Richard looks at Rom, “did you see that?” Rom hurries over to the window when he sees Richard’s scared look and upon seeing the tracks he to takes a step back from the window. They ponder for a moment what to do but decide to wake the rest to see what they think of it. When they are all gathered before Richard’s window looking at the tracks with the same awe they let curiosity get the best of them. Boldly they decide to go outside and find out where the tracks lead. They scared it off once didn’t they?
They wrap themselves in warm clothes and all pick up a knife and Rom appears in the room with a modern slim metal crossbow. As he explains that crossbow shooting is one of his hobbies and that he was hoping to do some hunting with it on vacation, so he could shoot something live for a change. It seems he will get his chance for that all right…
Richard’s worried look suddenly changes into a evil grin as he leaves the room and beckons Patrick to come with him. A couple of minutes later he appears with a gasoline and an oil tank from his car, Patrick close behind him, rattling bottles clasped in his arms.
Grinning widely Richard goes to work and within a quarter of an hour there are 8 provisory Molotov cocktails displayed on his desk. He grabs a shoulder bag and puts four of his fiery treats in the bag. Feeling sufficiently armed to take on any beast that might be lurking out there under the moon-lit sky they walk down the stairs, out of the front door and walk around the hotel to where the tracks lay.
The night is clear and crisp; the moon and stars shine brightly enough that the five can make their way up the snow-covered mountainside without flashlights. So without any extra light sources to not attract any attention to them the head up the mountainside to follow the tracks left behind by the creature. Richard takes some pictures of the tracks as they slowly lose sight of the hotel. The tracks are easy to spot in the moonlight: they are roughly 18 inches long and six inches wide—enormous human tracks, by the looks of them. Wondering what kind of creature could create these kind of tracks Richard hold for a moment as he looks ahead to where he spots a faint line of trees. Suddenly it strikes him as he replays the image of earlier that night again in his mind, a werewolf! But that isn’t possible… those things don’t exist and are mere legend! Puzzled for a moment he sees he’s lagging behind and he runs to catch up while the thought of a werewolf keeps flashing through his mind.
The tracks lead them northeast along the edge of the chasm, away from town and up into the mountains. After about 10 minutes, they lose sight of the hotel. The trail heads into a wooded area dotted with pine trees. It becomes increasingly difficult to make out as the woods grow denser and the trees closer together, blotting out the moonlight. Just as the woods become so dense that the five nightly (and cold) investigators can hardly see anything anymore and are starting to mention “turning back”, the trees end abruptly and they emerge into a snow-covered clearing.
Lit by the twilight of the full moon, the clearing lies still and gray, it’s blanket of snow broken only by the humanoid tracks—and a black structure jutting up near the center of the clearing. The tracks lead toward the structure, mill around the area, then wander off toward the far side of the clearing, where they disappear again over the edge of a hill. Watching from the tree line they suddenly become very silent as a feeling of doom encroaches upon them. Time passes and Patrick and Coen are the first to snap out of this strange enchanting effect the sight of this place seems to have on them. They snap the rest out it and as they cautiously draw closer, they realize that the black shape is the collapsed remnants of a small building, long abandoned and half-covered by snow.
Slowly and carefully they draw closer as the feeling that someone or something is lurking in the shadows… watching… grows ever stronger. As they arrive at the building, they determine that it was once a wooden cabin with a stone fireplace and chimney. The wood is rotten: most of two walls have already crumbled to durst, and a third of the roof collapsed into the cabin a long time ago. Weighed down by snow, the other two thirds have collapsed this winter, though one edge got caught on the ruined chimney, forming a tiny snow-less area of shelter. It is this small place the investigators head for and where they sit down to take a breather. While they sit and keep staring around for something moving in the twilight they see that there is little of note inside the cabin, and what there is, is dilapidated and covered with snow. The remnants of a broken rocking chair rot in one corner, along with bits of broken glass the might once have been an oil lamp. A huge mass of twigs and dried grass in another corner suggests that there might be some large animal nesting here…
Richard, shivering in the tiny shelter, catches a glimpse of some hollow space in the chimney where some stones are knocked away by the collapsed roof. As he gets up and checks out the space he finds a small tin container, about the size and shape of a cigar box. The box is secured with an old-fashioned lock set into the front of the lid and is covered with rust. Richard easily forces the simple lock open, by prying it open with some basic tools. Inside the box are two pieces of thick, old-fashioned paper, both yellowed and tattered with age: a letter from Malcolm Maguire to his wife, Clarice, and a letter from Clarice to her husband. Her letter, it appears, was never sent. Both of the letters are dated 1892. From the letters they learn about some strange and unholy darkness that lies lurking beneath the valley but the letters reveal nothing more then suspicions and feelings.
When Richard is just finished with reading the letters while the rest keep an eye out for anything out there they suddenly hear a low growl. Adrenaline pumping through their tired veins and muscles they look up where they see a man-wolf crouched atop the ruined chimney above the group, silhouetted against the full moon. With a snarl the creature leaps down onto the frozen investigators.
It comes crashing down on Richard tearing wildly at him with its fangs and claws. Richard who gets thrown to the floor under the creatures massive weight, scowls backwards over the snow covered floor in an attempt to escape. All the other ones except one run of in a panic. Rom stood his ground as he got his wits back and takes his crossbow and fires a bolt at the enraged creature. The bolt strikes home in the back of the beast but it doesn’t even seem to notice.
While Richard attempts to crawl away from under the beast in a panic and Rom puts another bolt in the beasts back but to no avail the beasts continuous its ravenous assault on Richard. He pins him to the ground with his claws and drives his fangs into the squealing victims right shoulder. Screaming and dazed with pain Richard turns around and throws the box into the beasts’ face before reaching in his bag for a Molotov. The box tumbling over the floor, its contents being taken with the nightly breeze, slips into a hole in the rotten floor. The werewolf suddenly releases Richard from it’s iron grip as it leaps after the letters that now fly around on the winter breeze. Rom runs over to Richard, picks him up and drags him out of the building and across the clearing where the rest of the group jump from the shadows and drag their wounded friend of in the direction they came from. Constantly looking over their shoulder and hurrying away as quickly as they can from this horrible place they are stopped cold in their tracks as a horrifying howl chills them to the bone. Quickly they get themselves back together and make a break for the hotel where they get into their cars and head for town in the hope to find some medical attention for their friend, since all Mark can offer is some first aid and the wound is looking bad.
Now racing through the moon-lit snowy landscape in their vehicles they head for town, desperate for help and protection. Coming screeching to a halt in front of the sheriff’s office, they get out and carry Richard inside. There they face a surprised sheriff and deputy who ask what the hell they are doing here at this nightly hour but when they see Richard’s wound, however, they calm down quite a bit. It is clear that the poor guy needs medical attention, and sheriff Wilheim sends Dumont to get the medical kit from the trunk of his squad car. Deputy Dumont opens the door and steps out into the night. The door hangs open for a moment and an icy breeze blows into the office.
A moment later, Dumont’s bloody, lifeless body flies back in through the front window. Dumont has been torn open from throat to abdomen, and broken ribs just from his shattered chest like bleached fingers. The sheriff staggers to his feet, gaping at his deputies body along with the shocked investigators who stand nailed to the ground with fear. Only a moment later a hairy beastial form—half man, half wolf—crashes through the office’s front window and tears through the desk as it moves in for another kill. While the werewolf latches its jaws onto the sheriff, who dies in a gurgle before the onslaught of this unleashed terror, the investigators find themselves trapped in the small office.
Seeking a way out of this tight spot Patrick makes a run for the broken front window and leaps over a fallen chair, through the window and runs for his life. The rest however find their only exit cut off and can do nothing more then wait for a seemingly unavoidable death…
Frantically looking around for a way to survive this mess, which was supposed to be a vacation, Richard spots the prison cell keys on the remaining half of the front desk and an idea crosses his mind. He grabs the keys and lumps to the cells in the back of the office. The rest having no idea what to do obey Richard’s yell to follow him. Mark quickly grabs the keys from Richards hands as he understands what Richard is planning. He runs past him and opens the first cell. Quickly he pushes Richard, Coen and Rom inside and throws the cell door shut. And not a moment to soon, because the second the cell lock clicks into place the werewolf comes dashing around the corner, tearing a piece of out the brick wall while at it.
As Mark throws himself to the back of the cell, barely able to avoid the wolf’s claws, they see that while the bars are far enough apart that the werewolf can reach a clawed hand inside, they are strong enough to keep the creature out, and the cells are deep enough so they can avoid its reach. Rom lets two bolts fly at the creature, of which one gets diverted by a jail bar and the other finds its target but the monster again doesn’t seem to notice, or care…
Richard pulls Mark over and whispers to him that he still has the Molotovs in his shoulder bag. Mark beckons Patrick and they both take a Molotov, which they light and throw at the creature. The wolf dodges the first one thrown by mark but it strikes the wall behind it where it explodes and the sticky flaming substance splashes all over the wolf setting its fur on fire. Howling with pain the wolf pulls its claws back from the cell and runs off howling but not before Patrick’s Molotov hit the beats right in the side.
Covered in flames and unable to reach its pray the wolf howls in frustration and agony and leaves.
As soon as the flames start licking the ceiling of the dazed four in the cell, they see that it is time to leave. A last howl echoes over the snowy plain and Mark looks out of the prison window only to see a burning shape disappear over a small hill a few hundred feet away and into the pine tree forest. Knowing they scared it off, they now unlock the cell and make their way out of the office. Outside Patrick grabs Rom and they run back in, only to appear a few moments later carrying two shotguns, two revolvers, some shells, ammo, two handcuffs, two Kevlar vests and some nightsticks.
Mark has dug up some of the medical supplies from both squad cars which he is carrying over to their own cars. They all get in their two cars and Mark takes care of Richard, who is only grinning widely about the fact how his “surprises” scared that abomination off good and seems to forget about his pain.
Once back at the hotel they all gather some mattresses and barricade themselves in the conference room ignoring the comment from the hotel staff.
