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

Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Goonalan" data-source="post: 3926812" data-attributes="member: 16069">Dungeon Crawl Classic #24 Legend of the Ripper Level 1-3 (Scaled to level 4)Turn 58: Seeing is Believing.Jim spots the Dire Rat as it tip-toes out of the chimney towards the fallen Paladin“Oh no you don’t.”An arrow flies, thumps into the creature which totters a moment then expires.The silence returns, enfolds the room.“Geeeeeet Ouuuuut.”The voice fading, almost an inaudible whisper, it seems to come from… nowhere, and everywhere.“Search the place- carefully.” Cas is quick to his feet, a little blood from his nose, but nothing serious.The room’s furnishings crumble when touched, the windows are boarded up, and it’s all in shadow. There’s a door to the east, three more evenly spaced on the south wall, and a set of rickety looking wooden stairs heading up.They start with the door to the east, its stuck fast, Bec applies his shoulder, the portal breaks on his first attempt, the giant man scatters into an alley, and they’re back outside, in the warren that is The Nunny.“Pull it shut but make sure it’s not stuck again- that’s the emergency exit, should we need it.” Cas states, Bec nods and does as he’s told.Newt completes his circuit, reports back.“There’s no noises coming from any of the doors, there’s also a concealed door over on the western wall. What now your Lordship?” The Gnome bows and winks.“So where is the voice coming from?” Ala asks.“It could be a Ghost.” Cas offers and then thinks about the statement for a while.The others join him in thought, stand statue, scan the room again.“Who’s ghost?” Anya asks.Cas shrugs, it’s his best guess. “Newt, the concealed door please.”Thirty seconds later, with the Gnomes help, Cas locates and opens the previously hidden door.As the door swings open, an overwhelming aura of evil fills the air, so vile in its intensity that Newt and the others, but not Cas, are almost overcome by it, their stomachs threaten revolt. The hairs stand up on the back of their necks, Ala shivers.“Creepy.” Cas attempts a smile, it comes out all wrong, he enters the tiny chamber beyond.Malice pervades the tiny, sparsely furnished, room. A simple cot, devoid of blankets or sheets, stands against one wall, its mattress savaged by deep cuts and stained rust-brown with long-dried blood. A small table is pressed against the wall beside the only window; a fireplace stands cold and lifeless. A cheap print, faded with age, hangs over the fireplace, beside it a small cupboard. The walls and floors are stained with a combination of blood and other unidentifiable filth. A sound of scampering feet as numerous rodents scatter for cover, a flash of movement out of the corner of their eyes the rats disappear.And then the darkness suddenly descends.“What…” Ala begins.Only to be replaced by a woman’s face.Even Cas flinches, so sudden is the vision.The face suddenly grimaces and turns away, then fades out of existence.Darkness engulfs the gang again.“I don’t like this.” Ala simply states.To silence.KNOCK KNOCKWhich makes nearly everyone jump.Cas is quickly to the door, presses himself against it, turns back to his companions and places a finger over his lips, signals for silence.“Who’s there?”“Father.”“Father who?”Newt giggles.“It’s Father Whiskin, Casimir, can I come in, it’s bloody freezing out here, and dangerous.”The Paladin opens the door, the Dwarvern Priest tromps in.“I thought you’d be here, I talked to Blackburn at the Bakery, nice man- gave me these for you.”The good Father hands over a bag of bread and cakes; which is eagerly accepted.“Well, Old Soloman had quite a story to tell, is there somewhere a little less…” The Priest takes a look around the room, “what’s the word, terrifying, that’s it- we can sit.”The Gang head back into the bar of the Ten Bells Inn, except for Newt, who follows them out in a moment, and with news.“Cas.” Newt says while stuffing a French Fancy into his mouth.“Yes.”“There’s no rat holes in that place.” Newt motions over his shoulder to the room they’ve just vacated, “and no rats.”“Odd.” The Paladin simply states.“Ghost rats.” Anya offers.Bec shivers.They settle down to hear Father Whiskin’s story.“It was called the Autumn of Terror, for two months the Ripper terrorised The Nunny, as he went about butchering and mutilating five women, all prostitutes. However, it wasn’t the identity of the victims that horrified the inhabitants of The Nunny, this place has long been used to violence and death, but rather it was the brutal manner in which the killings were conducted.”Father Whiskin settles back, he seems to have got his audiences attention; this is after all the ideal place to be telling a ghost story.“These women were not merely murdered they were mutilated in a way so terrible that many felt it was impossible for a man to have perpetrated the crimes.The reign of terror began on the evening of the 31st of August, 125 years ago, a Watchman happened upon a woman stretched out on the cobblestones. Even in the feeble light of his lantern, the Ripper’s handiwork was plainly visible.”Ala swallows hard, searches out and finds Cas’ hand, he reacts, smiles back at her, reassuring.“As horrible as that first murder scene was it was just the first of many that would present themselves to the Watch over the ensuing weeks, each one progressively worse than the last. The Ripper must have found his prey easy targets, like apples ripe for the picking. The women called out to him, too eager to venture into the dark nightmare alleys where they worked their trade. Investigators, meanwhile, found themselves unable to put paid to the murderous spree, not to hold back the rising tide of panic that was building, here within The Nunny.”Father Whiskin stops, looks around him, the others follow suit, checking every shadow, then continues.“Worse the Ripper taunted his pursuers, leaving tantalising clues that only served to befuddle the red-faced investigators. He was laughing at them, hidden behind the dark shroud of his anonymity.”Father Whiskin looks around the room, shadows lengthen.“But no one could have known that the first four murders in the Ripper’s rampage of terror had been little more than the overture to his grotesque finale…”Ala drops her iced-bun.“Mari Kell would be his fifth and final victim, his deadly masterpiece. Certainly there’s is nothing Mari Kell could have done in her all too brief life to warrant such a death.Witnesses at the time reported seeing Kell escort a male patron into her room, at a hostelry called the… Ten Bells Inn.”SqueakBec turns, he’s the only one to have heard the noise, a chair has moved a little away from a table, as if someone had wanted to sit there.The other members of the Gang swallow hard and scan the room yet again.“That was in the early hours, after midnight, and there away from the traffic and bustle of the city of Grimbo, the Ripper could afford to work slowly; he took his time with Mari.And when at last he had finished his work Mari Kell’s corpse had been mutilated almost beyond recognition. The defilement of her young body was so complete, so savage, that it could have only been the work of a man borne of the depths of Hell.”Bec looks behind him again, nothing.“After this slaying, the Ripper disappeared, into the mists of Grimbo forever. However, it is said, Mari Kell, or more properly her tormented spirit, could not so easily slip away. The mists of the afterlife would not, could not, completely enshroud her, and she remained here…”Father Whiskin looks about him.“In The Nunny, in the Ten Bells Inn.”Ala gulps, Cas squeezes her hand.“I think we’ve met her.” The Paladin offers.“What?” Father Whiskin stares at Cas.“Mari, she’s still here, she haunts this place still- I can feel her, all about us, she’s here. Now.”Bec looks behind him again.Nothing stirs.Next Turn: The Investigation continues…</blockquote>

Verification