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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Nebulous" data-source="post: 3969543" data-attributes="member: 31465">Adventure #3:  Massacre at the Ju-Ju HouseAfter their interview with Erica, the investigators decide to check out a clue in the local area:  Silas N’Kwane and the Ju-Ju House.  It’s Saturday now, and they enter Harlem via taxi just as light snow has begun to fall.  The Ju-Ju House is hard to find, located down a dirty, narrow alley.  The driver parks on the curb, obviously uneasy with this part of town, and they trot down the alley, the bell on the door tinkling as they step inside and shake the snow from their boots.  Along the way they’ve been discussing their options, and the consensus is that they need to reveal as LITTLE as possible about themselves and Jackson Elias.  The catch is that to learn about Elias they have to mention him.  Still, after Emerson’s warning, and after their run-in with the fellows at the hotel, they’re cautious.  An older black man sits nonchalant behind the counter.  He smiles at the investigators and nods.  “Can I help you?”The Ju-Ju is an odd assortment of foreign goods and unidentifiable odds and ends from many countries.  <img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/Masks/df.bmp" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /><img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/Masks/aaa.bmp" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /> <img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/Masks/cc.bmp" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /> Chang is quick to see a knife in the display window similar to the one that nearly eviscerated him at Jackson’s hotel a few days earlier.  “There,” he says.  “What is that called?”“A pranga,” answers the old man. “African hunting weapon.”Arnold Silvermine inspects a large artifact that is reminiscent of the Giza Sphinx.  He has a nose for valuable items, and his nose starts to tingle.  He can tell at a glance that this thing is worth some money, and probably inlaid with real gold. Still kicking himself for not pushing that Red Button, he casually inquires about the statue.  <img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/Masks/blsphinx.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />“What’s that thing?  How much for it?”The old man’s expression (who they assume is Silas N’Kwane) noticeably darkens.  “It is the Black Sphinx from ancient Egypt.  4th Dynasty of Sneferu, and it is not for sale.”Sensing a lie, Arnold presses him.  “But I’m wealthy as King Solomon. I want to buy it.  How much?”“Not for sale!”  Silas stands, and about that time two black gentlemen enter the Ju-Ju House.  There is a moment of unspoken tension as they all share glances.  Huey places a hand on Arnold’s shoulder and tries to diffuse the situation. “Ignore him sir, he has no manners.  We’re just…looking around.  We’re…we’re collectors of rare antiques.  I’m sure there’s something else here to interest us.”  Huey knows that something is up, and the dark looks from the Negro men who just entered don’t make him feel any better.  The investigators look around for a few more minutes, then bid farewell and quickly leave. “What the hell was that?” asks Morty, slapping Arnold’s arm.  “You weren’t going to buy that weird junk.”“Junk my white ass.  It’s worth a pretty penny, sweetheart.” “I would rather not get a “pranga” between my ribs,” mutters Huey.  “Those guys were hiding something…”So, they decide to return that night. It is bitterly cold by the time they return long after dark.  New snow has fallen and covered the world under a glistening white sheet.  A taxi drops them off quite a few blocks away, and they shuffle through the snow, but rounding the corner, they spot a familiar black Hudson roadster! <img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/Masks/bk-102-hudson.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /> Sure, it could be another car, but they don’t think so.  Several black men get out, heavily bundled beneath coats, and trudge through the dirty alleyway.  The Hudson slowly drives away. The investigators have a plan, however crazy it might be: they have to get inside the shop, and Chang is a pro at picking locks.  They move down the alley and sneak into a boarded building they saw on the way in.  It looked like it led into the back of a derelict pawn shop.  They are able to pry the boards off the door and then place them back once inside.  Sure enough, it’s an empty pawn shop that opens onto 138th Street.  From there, they observe anyone approaching the Ju-Ju House.An hour later the roadster pulls up the head of the alley, but this time the men exiting carry a bundled sheet with them that looks suspiciously like a body.  The three black men carry the “body” into the Ju-Ju House.  The four investigators wait about 20 minutes, discussing all of their options, including CALLING THE COPS, but finally decide to act on their own. Like Lt. Poole said, if they’re caught in the middle of any more murders there’s going to be trouble. Bullets are loaded into pistols, shells into Arnold’s shotgun, buckles are strapped and secured, and they scamper across the open courtyard to the front of the shop.  As suspected, it is locked, but Chang is able to pick it. “Isn’t this terribly illegal?” hisses Huey, but Morty tells him to shut up. The bell jingles as they enter, and the four quickly scamper into the darkness and duck.  There are a few doors leading out of the main room, but almost immediately, they hear footsteps from around the corner!Silas N’Kwane appears, but Chang is standing right there.  The old man barely has time to release a half-hearted whimper before Chang smashes him in the nose with the butt of his pistol.  Silas crumples, blood pouring from a broken face, and Chang lands a knee in his gut and presses the muzzle to his temple.“Make a sound and you die.”  Silas is bound and gagged, giving them a few minutes to search the Ju-Ju House.  There is a small restroom (where Silas emerged) and a larger store room, replete with a long table decorated with items from around the world, as well as several large glass cases filled with obscure cultural knick knacks.  They search everywhere, finding no trace of anyone else……until Huey’s foot creaks on the rug.  There is a trap door beneath.  Arnold takes the gag out of Silas’s mouth.  “Who’s down there?” he asks, but Silas spits in his face.  Arnold gags him again, but Huey thinks he’s a liability and a threat. The others agree, and with little remorse (beginning a campaign-long trend) someone slits Silas’s throat while the others look away.  There’s group-wide Sanity Loss from this violent act, and then they move the table and roll back the carpet.The handle for the trapdoor is recessed in the floor.  They pull it up, revealing a steep stairwell. They have no idea what to expect, but these guys are prepared for the worst.  Huey is handed a pistol even though he doesn’t know how to shoot it.  Morty shows him how to take the safety off. They listen, and hear below the muffled beat of drums.  Bong da da dong bong da da bong da da da da BONG da da dong…Chang descends the stone stairwell first, sniffing the acrid air, twin pistols at the ready. (In perfect honesty, he was never very good at karate and I don’t even think David even took the right Feats for his character!).  It stinks here of sweat and things hidden from the light. A kerosene lamp illuminates their path, and at the bottom they reach a stone floor.  The tunnel stretches thirty paces left to a closed wooden door, crisscrossed by thick iron bands.  Arcane runes decorate the door, and Huey, owner of the occult bookshop, recognizes some of them from the myriad tomes he and his father collect. They are signs representing “Evil Lies Here.”  Huey doesn’t much like that.The drums are louder now, clearly emanating from behind the door.  The investigators are terrified, but know that they have to do something.  The white sheet they saw earlier possibly contained a living captive.  They regret not doing something earlier, but that’s water under the bridge.  Now’s the time to stop Jackson Elias’s killers from taking any more victims!And time for some payback.  Arnold Silvermine jiggles the knob.  Surprisingly, it is unlocked.  Licking his lips, he pushes it open a smidgen, and through the crack sees a sliver of horror:Two naked Negroes beat fervently on drums, a hideous blood red tassel dangling from crude headdresses.  There are more people here judging from the sound of instruments. The PC’s  know that as soon as they reveal themselves they’ll be swamped by enemies (as any D&D player knows!) so they Ready Actions. Counting on surprise, Chang KICKS the door in and fires at the two nearest targets!Chang plants a bullet between the eyes of a drummer, splattering his brains on the wall.  Chaos ensues, but the investigators take advantage of it.  Morty, Arnold and Huey all takes shots into the room, now revealed to be a medium sized chamber with a stone pit in the center, partially covered by a stone slab.  A wheel and pulley system off to the side manipulates the slab. <img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/Masks/cultist board_small.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /> But there are at least TWENTY more stunned naked Negroes in this room!  Bullets and shells fly, dropping two more before they can gather themselves. Even when they do spot the intruders they are slow to respond.  Morty, Chang, Huey and Arnold alternate positions in the doorway, blasting away as fast as they can, mowing down everyone they can see in a hail of lead and buckshot.  Cultists surge at them, trying to grapple guns away, but stumble over corpses blocking the exit.  One yanks Chang’s pistol from his hands, but he shoots a hole through his neck, blasting him backward.Four other cultists begin cranking the pulley system attacked to the slab, and the stone slides aside…Horrible inhuman screams begin wafting up from the pit, so horrible that the investigators stumble away from the sound.  Something unnatural dwells down there, something the cultists are letting out!  Ten cultists are dead by now, or nearly dead. Huey, trembling with the pistol, shoots an attacker in the arm and sends him spinning toward the pit.  The man stumbles and slides, falls partially in, and screams in AGONY as something in the pit YANKS him down.At the back of the room a curtain opens and for the first time the investigators witness the source of this madness:The High Priest of the Bloody Tongue Sect in New York City:Mukunga.<img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/Masks/blk.bmp" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /> They never learn his name, only that he was dressed in flowing ceremonial feathered garb.  Lion’s claws adorn his hands on makeshift gloves, and his lips peels back in a snarl. With a wave of his hand, two previously unnoticed curtains fall away, and out stumble four hideously ROTTING CORPSES.  <img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/Masks/zombi2.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /><img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/Masks/zombie-1.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /> It is the first time any of the investigators have seen a zombie and the sight nauseates them. Huey is overwhelmed with terror and starts clicking madly on the trigger, not even noticing that he has to reload.In the meantime, the horrible wailing from the pit grows louder.  It strains the Sanity of everyone who hears it, so Huey and Arnold rush toward the winch, attempting to shut the lid. Chang and Morty keep shooting at anyone who isn’t taking cover, and within several rounds they’ve eliminated the majority of opponents in the room by herding them into the doorway, taking minimal damage themselves. But Mukunga is no ordinary opponent.  His zombies absorb bullets while he crouches behind them, chanting a spell in a hideous unknown tongue, and pointing his finger, a rippling ray of black putrescence streaks out! The ray strikes Chang, rotting his pinky finger to the bone, the skin blackening and falling away.  Chang shrieks in pain, falling to his knees, and Morty the PI rushes to his rescue, clicking mercilessly with his pistol until the chambers run dry.Morty is out in the open, and the High Priest unleashes another Shriveling Spell straight into Morty’s face.  His cheek and lip buckle under the chaotic magic, sloughing away in a gruesome wet glob of fleshy matter. “Run!” screams Arnold.  “Run! Run! Run! RUN!”Chang finishes closing the Chakota Pit (another detail the investigators never understand or see) and stumbles out of the room, even as a zombie swipes at him.  Morty holds a hand to his mangled face and follows, but Huey is already down the hallway running for his life.  Arnold fires once more, hitting Makunga in the shoulder and spinning him around.  The zombies converge on the doorway, climbing over the dead mounded nearby.  Chang grabs the kerosene lamp from the ceiling and tosses it, flames licking and spreading immediately. Huey reaches the top, breathless and terrified, and knocks everything off the table, shoves it over and rolls up the carpet.  Chang painfully exits the stairwell, followed by Morty and finally Arnold, pumping shotgun shells behind him and splattering a zombie’s head into black goo.They cram the carpet down the stairwell and light it with a second kerosene lamp, and then close the trapdoor and pile as much junk on top as they can find. Flames crackle beneath for a while and smoke wafts through the cracks, but they try to keep it sealed.  They wonder if anyone heard the battle; gunshots zipping back and forth underground, the screams of the dying and injured and insane. They debate leaving but decide they can’t; not if someone still needs to be rescued down there.  There was an alcove in the back, from where the zombies appeared.  Morty is in terrible pain and has swathed his mangled face with a cloth; Chang has trouble holding his pistol with a missing pinky finger.  After a while they haven’t heard any police sirens, so they open the door. The rug has burned to a crisp and sooty smoke chokes them all, and two zombies trying to clamber over the rug have burned too.  Arnold leads the way, bursting back into the room, and this time they catch Makunga by surprise!The priest, coughing, has been busy trying to complete the sacrifice.  A nude and unconscious woman dangles from her wrists above the Chakota pit while the priest manages the winch, but he has trouble considering his wounds.  Arnold shoots Makunga point blank, killing him instantly. The woman is alive, but barely, so they wrap her up in something warm. The rest of the basement is inspected, uncovering several items that they don’t understand, and that frankly frighten them, but all are confiscated as loot:*Makunga’s feathery robes *The Lion’s claws *A book called Africa’s Dark Sects (stamped as belonging to the Harvard Library, and                       this book entered permanent play as “Africa’s Dark Sex” and a longstanding                     source of silly humor belying our ages)*de Vermis Mysteriis (not part of the scenario but I threw it in there)* A copper bowl engraved with runes that no one recognizes* A metal headband of indeterminate metal * A short staff that has a distinctly African origin.* A wooden African-themed mask with no apparent means to attach it to your face* The big Black Sphinx statue!  Yes, they somehow carried it out with them.  The investigators stumble out of the Ju-Ju House early in the morning.  It is well below freezing outside, snowing heavily, and they’re somewhere in Harlem without a car.  Morty and Chang are severely injured, and once they start taking Subdual Damage from the cold, Chang falls unconscious.  They drag him by his armpits, staggering through the drifts, trying to find a safe haven somewhere, anywhere, before at least one of them dies, or the cops pick them up on any number of serious charges.And there we stopped.</blockquote>

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