Upgrade your account to a Community Supporter account and remove most of the site ads.

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Nebulous" data-source="post: 3978124" data-attributes="member: 31465">Adventure #4: On to LondonThe investigators reach Huey’s shop, Fulton Books, and hide there.  Over the next few days Chang and Morty recuperate, and they check the local paper, and sure enough there’s an article about a massacre in Harlem.  The murders are blamed on a death cult, but most of the pertinent details are left out of public scrutiny. Some eyewitnesses claim to have seen four men leaving the vicinity late at night, but no confirmations could be made.The investigators seem to have gotten away.  They pore over the items taken from the Bloody Tongue priest: the books of dubious origin (one which may be bound in human skin), the bowl, the staff, the mask, and the peculiar metal headband.  Huey has some basic skills in the African language he learned in college, and words on the staff translate to say something like “Nyambe Be My Power.”  Whatever that means. There is no way in HELL any of them will try on the African mask. <img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/Masks/hamaya.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />[Later on I taunt them about the powerful magic they have at their disposal and have never used]They stow the items away, although Huey continues to pore over Africa’s Dark Sects and de Vermis Mysteriis every chance he gets.  He is fascinated by what they contain, but he has a hard time with the Latin in the latter book.  The former is written in Old English and he reads about a powerful spell called “Create Corpse Walker.”  Obviously, this is what created the abominations in the Ju-Ju House. While Chang and Morty are resting, Huey and Arnold decide to snoop around and unearth a few more clues.  If they want to reach the bottom of this mystery, and learn what Jackson Elias wanted to tell them, they’ll have to know as much about the Carlyle Expedition as possible.Roger Carlyle holds the key to everything. Huey remembers reading a snippet about Dr. Robert Huston in one of the many newspaper articles.  After his death, all of his professional records were turned over to the Medical Affairs Board of New York City…but not destroyed. After talking to Erica, Huey knows that Huston treated Roger Carlyle professionally, and maybe a record of his descent into madness exists. Maybe there’s a clue there somewhere.  They find their way to the Medical Board Office, and after being coolly rebuked by the secretary, Chang and Huey try a more covert approach.  Huey is able to sneak in after using Chang as a distraction.  The file room holds all of Dr. Robert Huston’s records in nearly labeled cardboard boxes, and Huey steals a handful of relevant files that he stuffs down his pants.  The secretary, suspicious, ends up calling security, but Chang and Huey run for the hills.  The notes reveal Huston’s psychological analysis of Roger for over a year.  In summary, Roger was having vivid dreams and hallucinations, addressing himself in the third person with his second given name of Vane (which Leo amazingly jots down in his game notes for later retrieval).  A tall gaunt man addresses him in the dream, a blazing inverted ankh on his forehead, who asks Roger to “become a god with him.” Huston also says that Roger is impulsive when concerning the Negro woman “M’WERU”.  The last entry states that if Huston does not accompany Roger Carlyle on the expedition, then Huston will be threatened with “exposure.” The notes only baffle the investigators and prompt more questions than answers.  But at least they have the name for the sixth member of the expedition: M’Weru. Several days after the incident at the Ju-Ju House, the investigators return to Jonah Kensington at Prospero Press.  Kensington is glad to see them, and asks if they’ve turned up any more information.  “Not enough,” is the answer, and the next leg of the journey begins. They discuss their options with Jonah and decide that London is the next logical step.  London was the last place that Jackson visited, and there are some people there that he perhaps spoke to.  One of the clues in Jackson’s pocket was a business card for the Director of the Penhew Foundation, Mr. Edward Gavigan.  Jonah tries to conact the Penhew Foundation on the phone, but after being on hold for an hour he gives up.  Transcontinental communication can be problematic. “Get in touch with a fella named Mickey Mahoney at The Scoop in London. He’s a publisher of a tabloid rag there.  The sort of stuff that Jackson would have loved, corpses floating in the Thames and all that.  Maybe he knows something. Hell, maybe he knew Jackson.”So Morty, Huey, Arnold and Chang put their affairs in order.  Bills are paid, deeds scribbled out, and friends and relatives told that they’ll be out of the country for a short while.  They all expect to return, but it doesn’t hurt to be safe. A week later, around the beginning of February 1925, they find themselves aboard The Lucianda, cresting the Big Blue between America and England.  They have brought several TRUNKS full of weapons, ammunition and supplies.  Huey dives headlong into Africa’s Dark Sects and De Vermis Mysteriis, their dark words turning somersaults in his fevered brain.  He learns the ritual to Create Corpse Walker, and by placing a black opal in the mouth of the recently dead, he can animate a subservient being.  The secrets of the Mysteriis are much harder to unravel, and Huey begins to have unpleasant dreams. And waking nightmares. The book whispers to him sometimes, and once he even sees blood dripping from the pages onto the gently rocking deck of the boat. [GM Note:  I had a crib sheet of rules taken from the d20 rulebook, spliced with the BRP spell rules, with a dash of my own flavor.  Learning spells could take a long time, and required multiple rolls.  As the campaign progressed, and players didn’t really use magic that much, or they rolled up characters who were already practiced sorcerers, I dropped the initial system for something easier].The Bible in Huey’s cabin is found in different places, always emitting a strange mildew stink.  Long before the Lucianda docks at a London port, Huey packs the tome away and doesn’t look forward to seeing it again. The investigators, when not combating sea sickness, gambling, reading or contemplating what lies ahead, try to piece together their clues.  There is a naval telegraph aboard, and Jonah Kensington is contacted.  They have already established a plan:At every junction possible, Jonah will be telegraphed and mailed copies of their current position, status, and any clues they have accumulated. [GM Note: this is a meta-game precaution as well as a practical one; this campaign can be difficult to integrate new characters who have any idea of what is going on, or incentive to continue the quest others started months ago].Ten days after leaving New York the investigators reach London. It is the first time any of them have been here and the bustling chaos overwhelms them. <img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/Masks/london map.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /><img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/Masks/radcliffe oxford.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /><img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/Masks/tower-bridge-london-2012.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /> The first thing they do, after checking through customs and finding a hotel, is to seek out Mickey Mahoney of The Scoop, as Jonah suggested.  They find the climate of London chill and damp, so long overcoats seem appropriate.  And coats adequately conceal their pistols and shotguns, an issue that will come back and bite them in the ass later on. [GM Note: I remember once that Kent’s character Arnold couldn’t even sit down because the shotgun would poke right up out of his jacket; I think he sawed the end off after that.  Their killing everything that moved with loud projectiles really caused them some trouble in London, and…well, you’ll see.]The Scoop on the third floor of Fleet Street is a hubbub of tapping typewriters and flying paper.  The investigators ask if they can meet Mr. Mahoney, and a short, red-haired, cigar-chomping energetic man with an electric buzz of impatience soon greets them. <img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/Masks/mahoney.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />“What ya Yankies want? Make it fast or get the hell outta ‘ere. Time is money, blokes, and I’m a busy buster.”The Americans explain their situation: how Jonah Kensington of Prospero Press gave them his name; and that they are here regarding the death of their friend and author Jackson Elias. “Oh, bloody hell,” mumbles Mickey, his face falling.  “Ayup, I heard about that on the wires.  A shame.  Bloody goddamned shame.  Mr. Elias came to me a few months ago.  Smart chap he was, keen as a knife edge, although a little shaky. He promised me up and down that he had a story ‘bout a death cult here in London. I never got the story, ya see, Jackson skipped town. What ya know about it?”  He rubs his fingers together.  “It’s worth a penny or two.”The investigators don’t spill the beans to Mahoney, not knowing how much they can trust him, or anybody really.  Mahoney is intrigued though, sensing that these boys know more than they’re letting on. It’s journalistic instinct.  “Oh sure,” adds Mahoney slyly, “Elias poked around in some back issues of The Scoop. Found several articles that interested him.  I still got ‘em laying around.  Want a looksee?”Of course they do, so Mickey shows them the articles, all written by Mickey himself:1)    “Police Baffled By Monstrous Murders!”2)    “Slaughter Continues!”3)    “Shocking Canvases Bring Recognition”The investigators read over the articles, scribbling down notes and even taking copies.  The details are dubious at best, and don’t seem related to Jackson at all.  They wonder why Jackson was interested in any of these in the first place, but don’t express their bafflement to Mahoney. “Well,” he says, disappointed with their lack of enthusiasm, “if something strikes your fancy let me know.  The Scoop is always lookin’ out for the strange, weird and bloody. Emphasis on bl-uuudy. If you can actually bring me quality pictures, I’ll TRIPLE the pay.”  Morty likes the sound of that.  As a private detective, even a poor one, he always carries photographic plates and a camera with him.  The investigators leave the publisher and decide to check out the Penhew Foundation, following the direct lead from Jackson. <img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/Masks/the PENHEW FOUNDATION.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" />The Penhew Foundation is a monstrous stone structure located between Regents Park and the Thames River. The connection between Aubrey Penhew of the Carlyle Expedition and the Penhew Foundation is not lost on the investigators. Gavigan comes to greet them soon after their arrival.  He is a crisp British man in his fifties, meticulously dressed with not a crinkle or crest out of place.  He escorts them to his lavishly paneled mahogany office and offers them cigars and brandy. <img src="http://www.med.unc.edu/~saasha/Masks/gavigan.jpg" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /> “How can I help you gentlemen?”“Well,” says Huey carefully, “We’re here on behalf of a friend of ours.  A deceased friend.  Perhaps you’ve met him. Mr. Jackson Elias?”Almost imperceptibly, Chang notices that Gavigan’s eyebrow twitches; the Mafia taught him that trick, 101 Ways That A Man Can Lie. “Ah, yes.  Met him once, I did.  He came here asking questions concerning a dark period of Egyptian history that Roger Carlyle had obtained from some Negro Woman.  Sir Aubrey had long been interested in this same time period, when a terrible sorcerer, The Black Pharaoh, was reputed to have ruled the Nile Valley.  Unfortunately,” says Gavigan, smiling ruefully, “it was a hoax.  The Negro Woman stole the expedition’s funds and disappeared. The loss greatly hurt the expedition leader, Mr. Carlyle. Not the funds itself, but the lack of trust.  He had hinged so much on…the truth, as he thought it. Gentleman, let us walk.  These rooms can be so stifling and there is much of the Foundation I would like to show you.  Do you enjoy history?”Chang wants to search the office after suspecting that Gavigan isn’t telling them the whole truth, but there’s no way to avoid joining the others.  The group leaves Gavigan’s office and proceeds through the extravagant corridors of the Penhew Foundation, laced with glass exhibits featuring thousands of year’s worth of rare artifacts from ancient Egypt and the Middle East. They engage Gavigan in further conversation, trying to draw out more clues about Jackson Elias and the Carlyle Expedition. “After the loss of M’Weru and the funds, they sought a cooler climate in Kenya.  But as you know, they met with disaster.  Nearly all their records were lost in Kenya as well.  Aubrey Penhew had taken them along.  We DO have several letters of interest that Aubrey sent us, but I’m afraid those are confidential.”The party presses Gavigan to let them see these documents, but Gavigan sternly rejects them, and continues their tour through ancient pottery, shards, and bas-reliefs for another hour. They suspect that Gavigan is hiding something, and although a cool customer, he finally gets angry and insulted at their constant prying.  “Good day, gentlemen!  I’m sorry about your friend.  Good bye!”The investigators leave the Penhew Foundation, somewhat perplexed.  It is late in the evening by now so they take time to tour the city, drinking some dark beers and sampling the local cuisine.  Morty thinks they’re being followed, but can’t be sure, and they end their dinner abruptly and return to the hotel. That night they discus what to do the next day, and decide that maybe they should either go back to the Pehnew Foundation, or see Mickey Mahoney again and take another gander at those three articles that interested Jackson Elias so much.    After packing away their trunks of artifacts and weapons as safely as they can, and latching them with heavy padlocks, they go to sleep, but Huey is awakened late that night by a quiet click.  In the dim light he sees his door open a sliver.  Chang is snoring loudly on a cot, and Morty and Arnold are likewise resting. The crack widens a little bit more, and Huey feigns sleep, watching with growing terror as someone enters the room!Huey finally shrieks and bolts up, but two thugs have slid inside their room like thieves in the night.  They both brandish knives, and the one closest to Huey takes a vicious swipe at him, drawing a crimson gash across Huey’s palm.  The room is thrown into chaos as a fight begins in the gloom, shouts and bumps and moans as two killers try to silence the investigators. In the havoc, the gas main on a wall-mounted lantern is knocked off, and flammable gas begins seeping into the chamber.  Morty finally plugs one of the killers with a bullet, but he’s not fast enough to stop the other from lighting a match! WHOOSH! Flames spark and spread up the curtains instantaneously, and the group begins a mad dash to drag their belongings out before the hotel burns down.  The thug flees, shouting, “Fire! Fire! Arson! Fire! There! I saw ‘em!”Cursing their luck, the investigators throw what they can out of the window and jump to safety, joining the confusion as dozens of people flee the burning building. It’s not the last time that fire in a public place will accompany the PCs.  Firefighters and policeman have arrived, and the investigators slink away before they get compromised for a murder or a fire.  They haven’t been in town long enough to get arrested!Dragging their belongings down the street, the investigators start taking random alleys, pushing through viscous fog until they find a cheap hostel to stay at. They think they were possibly followed yet AGAIN, so this time they devise a trap.Using himself as bait, Huey takes a walk along the Thames. It’s dark out, and sure enough, the same thug from before eventually catches up to him.  But Chang, Morty and Arnold are waiting, and the thug is overpowered. “Who are you?  Who sent you?” The man is reluctant to answer, and to continue their trend of silencing the enemy one at a time, Huey HIMSELF cuts the man’s throat and drops the corpse into the Thames. Shaking from equal dread and delight, Huey wipes blood from his trembling hands with a handkerchief, telling himself, “I’m a good man.  A good man. I know it.  I know I am.  I know.  I know it. I know it…I…I…I know it! I’m…a good man.”He has trouble sleeping that night.</blockquote>

Verification