Silent Legions solo - Part 11: Wake up dark

 

Experiment in Horror #4

I wanted to continue with my Silent Legions campaign, but I wasn't sure what the next adventure should be. All I knew was that, at the end of my last one, I determined the new adventure would start in (1d4+2=) 3 weeks. I hit upon a way to start playing without having to make any decisions, though perceptive readers will note that I in fact had to come up with 2 random opening scenes instead of just one.

The experiment, then, was to try a non-linear adventure. I started out intending  to use the simple form of the non-linear narrative, i.e. starting somewhere near the climax for the first scene, then rolling the clock back for the next scene and following the story until it gets there, then continuing from that point until the end.

But some random events came up and a second main thread developed (mostly with Mary) that necessitated playing some of the scenes out-of-order. This was less of a headache than it sounds to keep track of; I just wrote a quick note about when things needed to progress at the bottom of my .txt file and typed my notes for the intervening scenes out above it, so it was constantly there as a reminder.

As this is a solo rpg adventure and not a plotted story, there were additional considerations to be made. The most obvious was the question of Plot Armour, since the PC(s) in the initial scene had to survive the rest of the adventure. Luckily, my horror adventures are pretty low on combat, so this didn't come up. Had the dice killed a PC, I'd probably have left them alive, but doomed to die by the conclusion no matter what the dice said from then on. Perhaps they would be afflicted by some sort of gruesome, creeping transmutation -- the genre offers great possibilities in this respect.

Madness was also an issue. I took the easy route, and decided that Madness loss would accrue as scenes were played, so Dark Visions (SL optional rule, p.173) might occur out of the normal sequence, in a scene when accumulated Madness-over-time would have technically been less. This didn't really impact the game, as it's not something where the strict numerical values indicate actual thresholds in any non-mechanical sense.

For the first scene, I decided to make it easy for myself; since I didn't have any idea where the PCs were or what they were doing, I decided they shouldn't either; more on this later. The actual set-up would involve many Oracle questions, Silent Legions tables, and The Big Book of Little Spaces: Haunts, which I'd been wanting to try out for ages. I rolled so many dice for the first bit that it would make an absolute mess if I included it with the narrative. Instead, I'll post my raw notes at the very end with a few annotations for anyone who's interested in my process.

My toolbox:

Silent Legions for the rules
Mythic GME with my MCSV for the oracle
UNE for NPC conversations
d30 Sandbox Companion for random horror effects & items
Big Book of Little Spaces: Haunts for the beginning (part of this bundle)

Right, enough with the introductory remarks. Let's start...

The Adventure

It's not the first time that Cat has woken up on a damp concrete floor, but getting clean meant it wasn't supposed to happen again. The last waves of sickly euphoria lap at her brain and she starts to pick bits of consciousness out of the ebb. What the hell did she do to herself this time?

She tries to raise her head and look around, but the purple splotches dancing through her vision refuse to go away when she opens her eyes. Wait, that's just the darkness. She lowers her cheek gently back onto the cold floor and tries to take stock of her situation.

She feels swollen all over, and her mouth tastes like drain unblocker. Everything aches, every muscle, every sinew. Her spine is on fire. A sharp shock of adrenaline: this isn't like any comedown she's ever had.

She pushes herself onto her side, rolls into a foetal position. A sharp pain in her stomach. Her hands fly to it on instinct, and she feels her clothing soaked through. Nervous fingertips find a loose makeshift bandage, a crusty wound beneath. At least she hasn't pissed herself.

Waves of nausea are pushing out the euphoria and the burning. She reaches out to her surroundings, trying to centre herself in the now. The concrete is gritty but pleasantly cool, and sticky where she bled. She can smell the mould and damp even through nostrils full of dust.

Cat puts out a hand and finds the rough concrete wall just before her. She rolls over again -- her stomach hurts less now she's expecting it --  and forces herself to sit up against the wall. Sitting is good. Just sit for a while.

There's a drone in her ears, but someone is mumbling to her over it. 'Don't fall asleep, Cat.' No, that's her, talking to herself. 'Shut the fuck up, Cat.'

There's a dim slash of light on her foot. She follows it up. There's a door, sitting uneasily in its frame. Cat edges over to it. It's heavy and solid, but gives way slightly when she pushes. She pivots on her arse, then gives the door a solid kick with both feet. It scrapes open on screaming, rusty hinges.

The light pours in, dim but still blinding. Cat blinks a few times, then looks round. She's sat on the floor of a bare concrete cell, scarcely wider than the doorframe and maybe twice as deep. Outside is a gloomy basement, with stacks of old and broken furniture. An insect-speckled fluorescent striplight casts an unhealthy pallor over the scene. Cat can hear its buzzing clearly now.

She uses the doorframe to pull herself up, then takes a few tentative steps outside. She see two more doors in a recess near her own cell. One is slightly open, and the shape inside... it's Elgin.

He's sat cross-legged on the floor, head in his hands. He hears her pull the door open all the way, looks up in panic.

"Gah! Oh... Cat?"

"Yeah. I, uh.... you ok?"

"I feel dreadful."

"Yeah. Same. But like... I dunno... something wrong with it."

"Same. It's like... shit, Cat, is-- is that your blood?"

"Yeah. We'd prolly best find our way out of... this place."

"You don't remember either? Help me up and let's get moving."

Cat pulls him to his feet, and they stagger about for a few moments. Cat insists on searching the pile of furniture to find a chair leg or summat they could use as a weapon, but there's nothing useful to be had. They abruptly decide to stop looking through the pile when Cat finds a decaying human hand, grey and shrivelled, still sporting bright pink acrylic nails.

Elgin says he's going to be sick, and dry heaves a few times. Cat tries to wipe the uncleanness off her fingers, but just smears blood on everything. Then a low moaning stops them short. They aren't alone.

The sound is coming from behind the door of the third cell. Cat opens the door, and the overwhelming smell of decay assaults her nostrils. She steadies herself against the wall, and hears Elgin retching behind her.

The form of a small person is lying in the far corner of the cell, wrapped in filthy rags or slimy clothing. It moves unsteadily to look up at them, then pulls the wet, threadbare blanket over its face.

"Don't look," it says in a soft, feminine voice. "You shouldn't see me like this."

"Who are you?" asks Cat. "What's going on? Where are we?"

"I... I am.... still... Angharad."

Cat shoots Elgin a look, but he seems equally baffled. But something tugs at Cat's memory. "We were... we were looking for you."

"They found you first."

"Who are they?"

"I don't know... I-- it's all confused."

"Let us help you--"

"No! It's too late. Leave me here... leave..."

"Are you hurt?"

"I... I am... no..."

"Then what's wrong?"

"It's too late. Leave me... I found what I was after in the end, all I desired was there, in that Chamber. But not as I imagined it. I should never have gone looking for it. Forget me...."

The shape lies back down wetly in the corner, whimpering or cooing to itself. Cat lets the door fall half closed.

"Should we... can we try to help?" asks Cat.

"Maybe we should find the way out first," says Elgin.

"Maybe you're right."

They look for an exit. None is immediately visible. There's just the buzzing light, and shadows dancing on the wall, which they jump at more than once. In their drugged state, the shadows seem like other people.

Cat finds a door which blends neatly into wall. It takes her a few seconds to realise she's been holding on to the doorknob to steady herself.

"It's starting to clear a little," says Elgin. "The fog in my head."

"You're lucky mate. I still feel like I'm swimming through custard. Surprised it's lingering so long..."

"Maybe our captors know about your history, gave you an extra helping to put you down."

"I wish I could remember who we're dealing with..."

Cat opens the door to reveal a dingy stairwell. They climb up to the first landing.

"Wait... just a... second..." Elgin looks like he's going to topple over, and steadies himself against the railing.

"Something's coming back to me," he continues. "I remember sitting in my flat one night, reading, when the shadows in the room started to deepen and move a little. I thought my eyes were just tired, but... then they sort of detached from the wall and started to whisper to me."

"Um...."

"They warned me not to interfere with the... the... I don't remember what they said, but they promised that if I surrendered myself to the chamber -- in the chamber? -- then all would be perfected."

"Perfected?"

"No idea. But I'm sure that was the word."

There's a door on the landing. They open it to peek out.

A long, brightly-lit corridor extends before them. So long they can't see the end. There's a draught of cold air -- colder even than the basement. The carpet is stained with black mould, and squelches a bit beneath their feet. The corridor seems to stretch as they go down it, but it could just be the drugs...

[I'm switching back to normal adventure format from this point. Rolls on Big Book of Little Spaces tables will be highlighted, in the format Section : Sense - Description - Element]

Abandoned Places : Taste - Tart - Statue

They stumble by an alcove, with a life-sized statue marble statue of the whitest marble. At first Cat thinks it's Persephone holding a pomegranate, then she notices the squareness of the object in her lovely hands. It's Pandora. Probably an appropriate figure, she thinks, but damned if she can think why.

[Q: Is the statue anomalous in some way? 50/50 (4+): O3 C6 - no]

Then Elgin is pulling her bodily away. "Tha can stare at girls later, Cat."

[I gave them both a Luck saving throw to avoid attracting attention / random encounters (both need 12+): C d20=15, ok; E 18, ok]

Ghostly Effects : Touch - Slimy - Door

The corridor doesn't go on for ever. They find a door at the end. Cat tries the handle, and finds it greasy -- too slick for her to turn. She makes the mistake of sniffing the gunk on her hand to see what it is [Phys save fails]. The putrid smell makes her gag. It reminds her of the decaying odour of the basement prisoner.

She wipes hand on the wall and they continue on round the bend.

Creepy Copses (x2) : Sight - Tree - Grassy
: Hearing - Wind - Scream

They pass a long window, which looks out on a night-time scene, lit only by lights shining from with the building. They see an overgrown lawn with unmanicured hedge rows, and beyond it a stand of trees. The wind howls, rippling across the grass, and the window glass rattles with each gust.

[Q: Can window be opened? Unlikely (5+): O2 C7 - no]

"There's no latch," say Cat. "Just glass."

"Are we in a hotel?" asks Elgin.

[For the next section, the result was 'Roll Three Times': Hallways, Hallways, Ghostly Effects]

Hallways (x3) : Smell - Apparition - Caustic
: Taste - Lighting - Velvety
: Touch - Ceiling - Powdery

As they look out at the stormy scene, a caustic chemical smell wafts down the hallway. The lights seem to dim and grow hazy. Dust falls from the ceiling.

Hallways : Touch - Mirrors - Scratched
Ghostly Effects : Touch - Fluids - Soaked

They hurry forward. At the corridor's end hangs a full length mirror. The surface is scratched, and a purplish, oily fluid leaks from the gashes.

[1d3 Madness: C +1 to 31, E +3 to 22. Passing 20 Madness gives Elgin a Dark Vision.

Sense Affected=Sight (not rolling, as this seems obvious from a mirror)
Type of Insight Granted (d8): Location of something important to the adventure.
Side Effect of the Vision (d20) Any occult entities there immediately focus on the PC.]

"Cat, look! In the mirror behind us."

"I don't see anything behind us. Just the corridor."

"The way out -- the front door. It's right there!"

Elgin turns and staggers off. Cat turns too -- and the door is indeed but a dozen paces away, right there where they came from. Now the mirror is gone, and a corridor stretches vertiginously out behind them.

[+1d6 Madness for rationally impossible situation (per Madness chart) C +4 to 35, E +6 to 28]

She rushes up behind Elgin, who is already throwing the bolt...


next post: how it all started


---

Below are the raw game notes I promised. I've added a few explanatory notes in bold type to explain my thought process a little better.

Experiment in Horror #4

Big Book of Little Spaces: Haunts

Appendix 1: Alternate Methods: 1d10=roll twice - Horrid Hallways, Scary Basements I wasn't too strict in my interpretations of the tables; they didn't, for instance, start in a basement hallway

Horrid Hallways:
Hearing - Lighting - Flat
=low buzz of electric lights

Scary Basements:
Touch - Clothing - sticky
=bloodsoaked

Q: How many PCs are present? 1d4=2, Cat and (1d3=) Elgin
Q: Are they both covered in blood? 50/50 (4+): O2 C6 - no. 1d2= just Cat
Q: Whose? (1d8): 1-3 hers, 4-6 someone else's, 7-8 both: 2
1d12=6 damage (7 current HP)
Her wounds are: Naturally / Glorious - slash across upper arm, nasty stomach wound, both rudely bandaged

Q: Is Elgin OK? Unlikely (5+): O4 C6 - no
1d6=1 damage, 6hp left
just some bruising I gave both PCs a chance to be down to 1hp, thus the different damage dice (they conveniently have 13 & 7 max hp). The dice rolled had nothing to do with the sources of the damage. Elgin's injury (minor spoiler: he crashed into a bookcase trying to flee) certainly wouldn't have caused 1-6 damage. 

Q: Is there a body here from a recent fight? 50/50 (4+): o1 C5 - no.

What’s Wrong About This Place? SL p177 A wretched victim of cult amusements may still live.

The easiest way for the PCs to have no immediate idea of their circumstances was to give them short-term memory loss from being drugged/poisoned. I made a quick recovery track:
Phys Save (+Con mod) evry 15 minutes to shake off effect of drug (attack rolls & evasion saves / skill rolls)
-4/-2, -2/-1, -1/-1, 0/-1, recovered

Starting saves: both fail

Search surroundings: Wis/Perception 8+: C 2d6+1-2=8, E 2d6-1-2=5

Finds: Nicely / Disgusting
decaying human hand with fancy acrylic nails

+1d4 Madness, both 1 (C to 30, E to 14)

Q: Any possible weapons about? 50/50 (4+): O2 C5 - no.

3 cells before them, 2 doors open

low moaning coming from behind 3rd. they open to reveal...

SL p 154 The basic horror of the Thing: 1d12= body horror
(BBLS:H) Sight - Hazy, Smell - Putrescent this was definitely the 'wretched victim of cult amusements' I'd rolled above

form in corner, wrapped in filty rags or slimy clothing
smell of decay assaults their nostrils - phys saves - c ok, E retches

the shape moves to look at them them, then pulls wet, threadbare blanket over face

don't look! you shouldn't see me like this
who are you? what's going on? where are we?

Q: Does the person know anything? 50/50 (4+): O1 C3 - no, but...
Q: Do they recognise the PCs? Unknown 1d6=1: O2 C8

I... I am.... still... Angharad

Q: Name mean anything to them at the mo? 50/50 (4+): O4 C8

We were... we were looking for you.
They found you first.
Who are they?
I don't know... I-- it's all confused.
Let us help you--
No! It's too late. Leave me here... leave...
Are you hurt?
I... I am... no...
Then what's wrong?
It's too late. Leave me... I found what I was after in the end, all I desired was there, in that chamber. But not as I imagined it. I should never have gone looking for it. Forget me....

[UNE:knowing - news - last scene:
as Rumour
clue - major, neutral (+0): desire / chamber]

The name Angharad was just off the top of my head. desire/chamber sounded suitably mystical, so now I knew the crux of the adventure, albeit in the vaguest possible sense. And I had an NPC to work in.

the shape lies back down wetly in the corner, whimpering or cooing to itself

Maybe we should find the way out first, says E
Maybe you're right.

1d3-1=0 visible exits

C&E set about searching: Int/Perception 6+: C 2d6+1-2=10, E 2d6+0-2=5

Q: Anything happen as they search? Unlikely (5+): O4 C3 - no, but...

just the buzzing lights, and shadows dancing on the wall, which they jump at more tha once. in their drugged state, the shadows seem like other people

C finds door which blends neatly into wall

new saves: C fail, E succeeds (he is now at -2/-1)

It's starting to clear a little, says E, the fog in my head.
You're lucky mate. I still feel like I'm swimming through custard. Surprised it's lingering so long...
Maybe our captives know about your hstory, gave you an extra helping to put you down.
I wish I could remember who we're dealing with...


Open door to dingy stairwell, climb up to landing,

[Q: Does it go further up? 50/50 (6+): O6 C6 - yes
+Event:  Horror - PC - think / conversation
1d6 1 M, 2 A, 3-4 C, 5-6 E: 5

[UNE:mysterious - shadows - history]

Wait... just a... second...

E looks like he's going to topple over, steadies himself against the railing

something's coming back to me... I remember sitting in my flat one night, reading when the shadows in the room started to deepen and move a little. I thought my eyes were just tired, but... then they sort of detached from the wall and started to whisper to me.
Um....
They warned me not to interfere with the... the... I don't remember what they said, but they promised that if I surrendered myself to the chamber -- in the chamber? -- then all would be perfected. [hostile - surrender - previous scene (1d3 person,place,thing: 2)]
Perfected?
No idea. But I'm sure that was the word.

+1d6=5 Madness (to 19)


they open the door to peek out

Horrid Hallways
Sight - Disatance - Hidden
can't see end

Smell - rug - rank
Smell - Temperature - Cloying
cold & damp, mouldy carpet

The hallway result gave me the first clue to their location: a fancy hotel somewhere in the countryside. The Cloying smell & Temperature made it obviously abandoned. Until now I'd been assuming they were still somewhere in London.

Q: Anyone present? Unknown 1d6=6: O2 C3 - no, but... might be detected

Dex/Stealth rolls : C 2d6+1-2=7, E 2d6-1-1=8
vs. 2d6+1=5, not detected

Wis/Perception rolls to hear anyone as they pass
8+: both fail

hallway seems to stretch as they go down it, but could just be the drugs

come to...

Abandoned Places
Taste - Tart - Statue

Silent Legions solo - Part 1: Someone nobody would miss

Experiment in Horror #3

Prolegomena

Hard on the heels of my first two experiments in horror (Silent Legions & Call of Cthulhu), I started a third. Unfortunately it stalled for many months after the first few scenes. I picked it up again briefly, but the same issues that had been plaguing it the first time refused to go away, and it stalled again. Then in April/May I felt it calling once more, and it took off --  I finished the first adventure, awarded XP, and kept going with the next adventure, which as I am writing now is sort of finished -- at a break in the action where XP can be awarded at any rate, and bleeding into the third adventure without any real division.

I'm really not good with games set in the modern day. I often struggle to come up with good character ideas, especially if they're supposed to have normal backgrounds. I did at least make a stable of characters that seemed interesting enough to play, and the focal character / main PC even has reasons for being interested in the occult, in order to avoid the pitfall of my other Silent Legions game, where the only reason they had for investigating the weird mystery was that they were PCs in a horror RPG.

So why did it stall? Honestly, it was the setting's fault. I like to play RPGs to forget all about the modern world and its problems. Playing a game that amplifies them feels like it defeats the purpose. Even the 1920s are at enough of a remove that you don't have to confront present realities head-on. Putting cocaine in a CoC character's equipment list is glamorous! exciting! fun! in a way that making a modern-era PC a recovering heroin addict is not.

Characters

As I did for the first adventure, I rolled up 4 PCs -- one of each class. This time, however, I chose their Backgrounds instead of rolling them so they are much more sensible, and I didn't choose/roll connections at all. I did make the main PC an old friend of one of the others, but the remaining two were waiting in the wings for the oracle to introduce during play. And as the dice are fickle, one of them (the Artist/socialite) still hasn't appeared, and the other (Priest/scholar) became 30 years younger and got a wholly new personality when the dice called for introducing a character in a much different role than I had envisioned.

Playing against type, I also went with the Tough for my main PC, though she does have Int as her highest rolled stat. As there is no Junkie background in the rulebook, I gave it the same bonus skills as Prostitute: Culture/Home, Culture/Criminal, Persuade, Any One Skill. That's the limits of my house-ruling for the campaign!

I'm going to try showing, not telling, for a change, so instead of my usual character generation excursus I'm just going to put her character sheet here:

Cat Morland
female, Age 30
Class/Level: Tough 1, XP:0
Background: Junkie
Wealth: Struggling
Str 14 Int 16 Wis 14 Dex 8 Con 12 Cha 12
AC 9, Att +1, HP 7
Athletics 0, Combat/Unarmed 0, Culture/Home 0, Culture/Criminal 0, Language 0 (Latin), Occult 0, Perception 0, Persuade 0, Stealth 0

Setting

London, modern day. I initially was going to make the exact year vague like in an old novel (201-), but at some point I needed to know what day of the week it was, so settled on 2010. This also meant I don't have to think about certain present issues (no Brexit yet) and also means that parts of east London haven't been completely gentrified by the Olympic park. I also won't have to worry about the timeline going past the time I'm playing in (no PC of mine can survive 10+ game years!).

In the Building your World chapter of the SL rules, Mr. Crawford recommends that the GM sketch out their Region, picking three urban Locations, three rural, and three isolated/remote/hidden and assigning them 2 Tags each. As a soloist, I don't want to know that much in the beginning, so I put down a few obvious ideas and left the rest blank. I also adjusted the proportions, as London is pretty massive. My starting Locations & Tags:

Urban
1. North: Averted Eyes, Drug Epidemic
2. East: Black Market, ???
3. Central: Tyrannical Elites, Dark Undercity
4. West: Pervasive Treachery, ???
5. Greenwich: Poisoned Ground, Foul Faith

Rural
6. Epping Forest: Black Altar, ??
7. Zone 5 / Lesnes abbey: ???

Hidden
8. ???
9. ???

Also, I found this cool, abstract hex map amongst the British Library's public domain images which has been of immeasurable use:

I didn't roll up anything else to start -- no gods, aliens, cults, kelipah, NPCs; this was extremely low prep.

The Experiment

I actually forgot what the experiment was when I picked this campaign up again for the third time. I knew I'd written it down somewhere, but for some reason it wasn't in the .txt file with the adventure. Fortunately, the seeds of it had been introduced and progressed a little bit now and then, but that thread of the story is on a slow burn.

I may have mentioned my love of Kult's dark secrets now and again. The original idea was that I would pick/roll 5 of them and collect 'Clues' using my solo mystery framework to decide which dark secret my PC harboured. Then I decided to try tailoring more specific dark secrets to the PC's back story. Or perhaps things aren't as they seem; whatever the initial plot/circumstances/problem appears to be will, in time, be revealed to be something else entirely. I jotted down 20 quick ideas for this, which makes a handy table:

What's really going on? (1d20)
1. secretly responsible, wiped own memory
2. secretly responsible, amnesia due to near defeat
3. secretly responsible, amnesia due to own mistake
4. family responsible
5. family enemy responsible
6. family curse responsible
7. dream
8. dream - but the real world worse
9. dreams seeping into real world
10. dead - this is your hell
11. dead - this is your purgatory
12. dying, this is your near-death experience
13. hallucination, PC is victim of experiment
14. hallucination, PC is insane killer
15. chosen one
16. chosen one - for sacrifice!
17. not human - spawn of elder god
18. not human - spawn of rival god
19. not human - alien origin
20. not human - magical creation

The adventure which follows on from this first one was a very different (and complicated) experiment. Assuming I don't kill off all my PCs, these are but the foundations for a lengthy campaign.

Tools &c.

My toolbox for the first adventure is the same as the last:

• Silent Legions for the rules
• Mythic GME with my MCSV for the oracle
• UNE for NPC conversations
• d30 Sandbox Companion for random horror effects & items

I used a very loose, hybrid structure comprised of Mythic scenes and Silent Legions adventure templates. The Chaos level was left at a static value of Out-of-Control (d8). Paper records were kept of dates, places, NPCs, cults, crimes, objects, and connections so I could see it all in one place if I needed to refer back to it (and often did!).

Enough with the preliminaries, let's start...

The Adventure

[Scene 1

The date was rolled with d12 & d30. I had no opinions about how to start or what the adventure should be, so I rolled Hook & Introduction scenes per the SL adventure template.

Hook:  The heroes need to visit a Place at the site for a mundane reason, where they find themselves present for a Crime or able to observe the aftermath, which hints at a Secret.

Location: North London (where the PC lives)
d2 for Location Tag = Drug Epidemic
d4 for specific Place = Rehab clinic, St.Ann's outpatient

Crime: burglary - files stolen
discovered: only a few know happened
police conflicted
gossip: Confused, but largely blaming the victim for events. -inadequate security
clue: The culprit was seen by others in the area near the time
Witness: Fake. An attention-seeker is simply making up stories.
The Crime Scene Investigation is…: Penetrating. They’ve concluded one very useful fact.]

13 September 2010

Cat Morland stifles another yawn as she rings the bell for her stop. She knew that getting her life together would be hard work, but she hadn't counted on there being quite so many early starts. She's doing everything she's supposed to these days. She'd cut off the last few remaining inches of her manic panic dye job, returning her hair to its natural, indifferently blonde colour. She'd bought a respectable dress for interviews (not that she'd gotten any), and learnt to cover up the tattoos across her chest and tracks up her arms. And she forced herself to always be on time for all her appointments, even at eight fucking o'clock in the morning.

The damp morning air is a shock as she steps out of the stale warmth of the bus. She's regretting the tenner she spent on the surplus German army jacket in Camden Market and wondering how many jumpers she can layer under it come winter as she walks into the St Ann's hospital campus and winds her way through the covered walkways to the outpatient clinic. She's so lost in thought that she doesn't notice the police cars until the copper is talking to her.

"Miss! Excuse me, miss! You can't go in there. It's a crime scene."

"What? Shit. I, um... what happened?"

"Constable," interrupts another voice, "it's ok. She has an appointment. Could you let her in, please?" It's Sonia (Dr. Esposito), Cat's shrink, standing in the doorway with a mug of coffee in hand.

The PC [police constable, not player character!] holds up the crime scene tape so Cat can go in.

"Don't worry, Cat it's nothing serious. We've just had a break in, is all. I don't think they took much. There's nothing of real value here. Even the computers are probably worthless. Lord knows they're slow enough!"

"A break in? Weird. What'd they take?"

"Just some old files, of all things!"

"Was my file stolen?"

"Of course not."

[Cat needs to roll 11+ Wis/Perception to determine if Sonia's keeping something from her. 2d6+1(wis)+0(skill)=6, failure. Sounds legit.

Q: Is Cat questioned by police? 50/50 O5 C4 - yes, but... cursorily]

Sonia tells Cat that they'd best delay her appointment, and to call the receptionist tomorrow to reschedule. The police have a few questions to ask her as she is leaving, but they don't seem particularly interested in her answers and soon let her go.

[Scene 2

Introduction: The PCs stumble into the scene of a fresh Crime committed by an Enemy to advance or protect a Scheme. Multiple clues are visible that direct them to further Investigation scenes– physical artefacts, witnesses, police reports, or the like.

Friend: 1d2=Averted Eyes 1d4=escapee from cult or gang (cult) d6=m
Crime: kidnapping d6=f]

That evening, Cat hides away in her room at the halfway house to spend some quality time with the book of Roman poetry she got from the 50p shelf outside the charity bookshop. But after a scant half hour an overenthusiastic knocking tears her attention away from poor exiled Ovid on the shores of the Black Sea, and that arsehole Dennis shouts through her door, "Cat, there's someone here to see you! Cat! Are you in there?! Can you hear me C--"

"Shit, mate, the whole street heard you," grumbles Cat as she pushes past Dennis and plods down the steps towards the half-open front door. She's expecting to find a cop waiting for her with more questions, and so is completely flummoxed to find that the person waiting for her is a youngish priest.

"Uh... hi?"

"You probably don't remember me, but we have a mutual acquaintance. Vera."

"Oh?"

"Have you seen her round lately?"

"No. I didn't even know she'd been discharged. And I didn't keep in touch with anyone when I-- wait a minute, you're Nosebleed Mike, aren't you?"

"That's me -- or was. I don't call myself that any more, obviously. Not since I got my shit together. Also the diocese would prefer me not to."

"I noticed the dog collar... so let me stop you right now. I never got involved with any of the cult's shite, and I don't need any deprogramming."

"That's not why I'm here. Look is there somewhere else we could have this conversation?"

"Sure, fine. Whatever. There's a pub down the road. You're buying."

* * *

Fr. Mike
male, Age 33
Class/Level: Scholar 1, XP:0
Background: Clergy
Wealth: Average
Str 9 Int 11 Wis 14 Dex 8 Con 9 Cha 7
AC 9, Att +0, HP 3
Culture/Home 0, History 0, Leadership 0, Occult 0, Persuade 0, Religion 0, Research 0, Science 0

* * *

Fr. Mike puts two pints of bitter on the table and sits in the ripped vinyl booth across from Cat. "I know you didn't hang round them for long," he begins, "but how well did you know the cult?"

"Enough to know that it always put their knickers in a twist when people in the know called them 'the cult' and not -- what was it? -- the 'Circle of the Shadow Chalice'."

"You weren't 'in the know' were you?"

"It's like this: I got real interested in spirituality a few years back -- like a real seeker and shit -- and I came across them in my search. Normal religion weren't doing it for me -- still isn't going to, so sorry -- so digging deeper I found the occult. The wiccans were nice but a bit airy-fairy, so I went down less trodden paths, and that's how I ran across them. But they turned out to be a bunch of pretentious idiots: Crowleyites, Dee-fanatics, and chaos magicians worshipping gods out of D&D manuals. So I turned and ran. But then I discovered heroin, so... more fool me, I guess."

"Heh. That's a good summation of them. Or it was. Back in the early days, when I used to hang with them, they -- we -- were pretty laughable. But then things started to change, and get really messed up, really dark. I left then, right after Vera joined, and things got really bad for me. Or continued on the destructive path I'd been on a while. But in my darkest hour I found Christ -- this isn't a sermon, don't worry -- and sorted myself out. Vera and I kept in touch sporadically: mostly email, the occasional Christmas card. Then her life kept falling apart, right on the same trajectory mine had been. It ended up with her messed up on drugs too, and nearly killed her. I visited her in hospital, convinced her to get treatment, get counselling. She wrote me one last letter, dated a week ago, saying she wanted out but they wouldn't let her leave, and that she knew something but didn't know who to tell, or if anyone would even believe her, or be able to help if they did. That was the last I heard from her. She disappeared, and no one has seen her since. Then I heard there was the break-in at the hospital and I thought what if it was her file they were after? To see if she'd told her psychiatrist any awful secrets... Her case notes could reveal some awful crime... or her kidnappers could believe they do."

"Seems a bit much."

"It's all I have to go on."

"Look she prolly just fell off the wagon. If it makes you feel better I can try to find her. Pretty sure I know where to start looking..."

"Thanks. This means a lot."

"Don't mention it. But I'm curious: why did you look me up for this?"

"Vera mentioned meeting you in the hospital, and how you were always nice to her. And then how you got out into the halfway house, and she hoped she could go some day too."


[Scene 3

Rolling an Investigation scene. A nonsensical result will mean Cat looked round, but no one's seen Vera; nothing special.

Investigations of People or Events: 1d12= The Actor the PCs seek has been killed, and they arrive in time to deal with a challenge related to the murder, either in the form of a tardy assassin or some dangerous consequence the murderer left behind.

Challenge: 1d4=Socialite Challenge: d2/d20=They want money, because they desperately need a thing. (go figure)

Q: Tardy assassin (1-3) or consequence (4-6)? d6={see below}]


14 September

Cat spends the next day going to all the places in North London she'd promised herself to never visit again. No one she talks to has seen Vera, or can remember if they did or not. She's on the point of giving up when someone does seem to have a recollection -- for a price. Cat is glad the priest gave her some cash as for "expenses". She hands over enough for their next hit, and is told that Vera has been squatting in the old art studio by Finsbury Park.

The studio is nestled in a bit of urban greenery, a nature trail with about 50' of forest on either side. There is no sign of activity when Cat draws near, but she finds the back door unlocked and lets herself in.

The concrete floors are covered in paint and dried adhesives, but beyond there's nary a trace of the artists who worked here, save the occasional candle stub melted onto a window pane. There is also no evidence of any squatters, which strikes Cat as particularly odd.

"Vera? Vera! Are you in here? Time to come home and get back off the shit. Vera?"

[8+ Wis/Perception to hear creaking floorboards 2d6+1(wis)+0(skill)=9

The assassin (1d6): 1 does nothing, 2 tries to BS, 3 attacks, 4 threatens, 5 panics & tries to run, 6 something odd]

Floorboards creak above her head. Someone's here. They've probably even heard her. Cat bounds up the stairs in time to see some [d6=] guy in a faded black tracksuit and balaclava run out the fire escape door and off down the trail.
[Initiative was rolled: Cat 3, Assassin 8.
Q: Does he get away? Likely O4 C7 - yes]

She stands in the open doorway at the top of the fire escape and debates trying to catch whoever that was, when the smell hits her. An acrid, foul odour she can't place all. She walks from room to room looking for its source. As she gets closer, her eyes start to sting, and a sizzling hiss greets her ears.

What came next, what she found in the corner room without windows, is something she'd desperately like to forget, but the police made her describe it over and over and didn't seem especially sympathetic to the ex-junkie with the long rap sheet even if she did ring them immediately and even waited on the steps so she could give a statement.

There was the old claw foot bath tub and wooden chair with shreds of electrical tape clinging to the legs and the black plastic sheeting on the floor and the jerry cans in a pile and Vera lying next to them... well, most of Vera. Why Cat looked into the tub to see the leg dissolving in acid, she'll never know. And Vera staring up at her the whole time, and the bloody footprints Cat left from there to the fire escape for which the forensics people gave her a right bollocking...

She calls Fr. Mike when the PC finally drives her home, but it goes straight to voicemail -- unsurprising, given the hour. She passes out fully dressed into blessedly dreamless sleep.

Fr. Mike's call wakes her in the morning.

"Not over the phone. Meet me at the pub again when they start serving."

[The gruesome sight earned Cat 1d6=5 Madness.

I'd asked the Oracle:
Q: Can she identify V? Likely O3 C1 - Yes, and...

Police attitude is (SL p. 131): d10=2, Goaded. Someone important wants this solved.

Q: Gets through? O1 C3 - No, but... leaves message, is phoned back next day.]

* * *

[Scene 4: their meeting]

15 September

That evening in the pub, Fr. Mike listens patiently as Cat, almost in whispers, tells what she saw. When she finishes the narrative, he gets another round, and a couple whiskey chasers for good measure.

"Did anyone who'd seen her say anything?" he asks. [UNE: inquisitive - suspicion - community]

"Not really. Why would they?"

"Sure. But, did... did anyone seem like they were deliberately obfuscating--"

"They're addicts. They always seem like that."

"Yeah... but I'm sure somebody knows something. You didn't tell anyone else where you were going, did you? Or what you found.?"

"I didn't really feel like discussing it, did I?"

"Maybe you could... you could pretend you don't know. That you weren't there. Keep asking round, and see if anyone says anything that makes you suspicious." [scheming - negotiation - community]

"Everything they say is going to be suspicious. Have you forgotten?"

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do. You want to use me as bait to drag out Vera's killer."

"Not bait. I... need a partner to help me investigate. Someone who can get people to talk... the ones that won't talk to someone like me."

"Partner? You make it sound so equitable."

"I'll help you however I can."

"Why not let the police do it? They had me in for ages.  I've spent enough time in police stations to know they weren't pissing about."

"I have a feeling that this isn't something they can solve." [prejudiced - assessment - previous scene]

"I think they're a bunch of tosspots too, mate, but murder is definitely their job."

"This isn't a simple murder. The cult--"

"Fuck the cult. Fuck them, fuck the police, fuck you, fuck poor Vera even. I'm just trying to put my life back together, not get involved in some psycho mind-fuck bullshit, I--"

[Q: Can he offer something she wants? 50/50 (4+): O5 C2 - Yes, and... (1d6) 1 item, 2 grimoire, 3 weapon, 4 teacher, 5 haven, 6 introduction: d6=1

Random Investigation scene required to obtain it in order to make things interesting

d12=The object is obtained relatively easily, but an Actor is needed to make its significance clear, the situation complicated by that Actor’s motivations and potential challenges to reaching them.]

"I know what you're after. What you're really after. What Vera was really after, too, once upon a time, before the drugs took over. This is the last letter she sent me. I didn't tell you everything in it. It's kind of long --  for now just read the PS."

Cat accepts the leaves of lined paper ripped from a pound shop notebook reluctantly, turning them over to look at the very bottom of the last page. She reads aloud:
 
P.S. I know it sounds fantastic, so I left proof at the church. IN the ceiling of the ladies, lift up the panel above the right-hand stall. one of the visitors left it behind, I don't know if it was on purpose or if they know its missing.
 
"What is it? What'd she leave?"

"Magic."



next post: the artefact

Experiments in Horror - Call of Cthulhu (part 4 - final)

Scene 12

Chaos: Out of control (CF7 - d8)

Setup: to Brighton
1d10=1, Altered

NPC List: DI Mitchell, Gerald "Hilly" St. Hillyer, Molly Lasher, Janet Evans

Threads: investigate Alexandra's murder/disappearance

When Julia arrives at Victoria, she is surprised to find DI Mitchell waiting by the ticket counter.

"I'm coming with you," he says.

"Oh, no you aren't!" counters Julia. "One whiff of our involvement, and Molly'll turn me away for good. Or worse!"

[POW vs. POW on the Resistance Table: her 13 vs. his 11 gives her a 60% chance. d%=82...]

"I'm sorry, Miss Quigley-Ffoulkes, but I cannot allow you to go into this den of vipers alone."

"You think I don't know how to handle myself? Because I'm a woman--?"

"Because, however formidable you may be, I allow that's a great deal, there is only one of you. Against this... this whole conspiracy. Alex isn't the first to disappear from within their ranks, you know."

"Fine. Come if you must. But keep your distance, so they don't get suspicious. I wouldn't want you to, how do you say, blow my cover, Detective Inspector." [Persuade (75%) roll: d%=68, ok]

"Agreed."

"Good. Now, I'm going to do something for which I must apologise. Perhaps I can make it up to you over dinner when this is all through. But for now, in case we're being observed..."

Julia slaps DI Mitchell across the face. She turns and stalks off to collect her ticket without pausing to see the look of astonishment tinged with not a little hurt in his eyes. He rubs his jaw, then goes down the platform to wait for the train.

[Q: Is she being followed? 50/50 (4+): O2 C1 - No, and... ]


Scene 13

Chaos: Out of control (CF7 - d8)

Setup: 1d10=6, Interrupt (was: find Molly)
Interrupt:  NPC action - Janet Evans - inform / silence

NPC List: DI Mitchell, Gerald "Hilly" St. Hillyer, Molly Lasher, Janet Evans

Threads: investigate Alexandra's murder/disappearance

The train to Brighton is uneventful. Julia tries unsuccessfully to divert herself with the book she'd borrowed from the library, Mirbeau's Journal d'une femme de chambre, but after the horrors of the past week she just can't find any solace in the accounts of a bourgeois family, even a naughty French one. She spends most of the trip with the open tome forgotten in her lap, staring out at the English countryside.

She hops a cab from the station to the Metropole. When she arrives, she sees a young woman sitting in the lobby reading a magazine with similar disinterest. Her rather arrestingly white skin cannot disguise her plain features; she looks remarkably sickly under all the heavy make-up.

Janet Evans
STR: 12  DEX:  7  INT: 12
CON:  6  APP:  9  POW: 15
SIZ: 12  EDU: 15





Julia checks in at the desk. When the young woman hears her give her name, she discards the magazine, and walks straight up to Julia once she has her key.

[UNE--
NPC Relationship: distrustful
Conversation Mood: withdrawn
inquisitive - questions - the character]

"Julia, I've been waiting for you. I'm friend of Molly's. Janet -- Janet Evans."

"Charmed, I'm sure."

"I needed to ask you about the party. Mind if I follow you up to your room? I know you've just arrived and all, but I won't keep you long."

"Of course."

Both women are quiet as they follow the bellhop up to Julia's room. Once he's been tipped and has left, Julia offers Janet a chair, and sits across from her on the corner of the bed.

"Molly wanted me to look out for you," begins Janet. "Only, our little club is a private affair, you see. Very private. We can't have loose tongues betraying our secrets. Well, you understand, the less we say about it in public, the more deliciously exclusive it is. You haven't said anything to anyone, have you? I mean, nothing major, right?"

"Oh, of course not. Wouldn't want a pack of crashers showing up! Or worse: someone from the sensationalist press!"

"No. Especially not them. I'm glad you were discreet. But, if you forgive my asking,  how did you...?"

"Hilly. I wheedled it out of him. I've known him too long for him to keep any secrets from me! And with the whole Alex thing, he was looking to confide in somebody."

"How well did you know Alex? Were you very good friends?"

[Julia's Psychology (40%) roll: 63, fails]

"Yes, I think so. I mean, as much as anyone could be very good friends with such a creature. I don't mean to speak ill of the dead -- I mean, I really loved Alex -- but, well... did you know her very well?"

[Q: Does she say so? 50/50 (4+): O2 C3 - No, and...]

"Barely. Just in passing, that is. It's just that her...  such awful circumstances... it's cast a pall over the whole soirée. At least for some."

Julia leans in close and almost whispers. "Do you think someone is out to tear the group apart? Some enemy of the club? Someone who perhaps wasn't invited, or...?"

"I... I think maybe... there are some who worry that the murderer is someone... inside the club." [mysterious - uncertainty - family]

"How scandalous! Oh, but you seem genuinely frightened. You don't say you believe the rumours have substance?"

"I don't-- I didn't credit them at first. But now I'm not so sure."

"What is it? There's something you want to tell me, isn't there? You think you know something." [Persuade (75%) roll: 53, success]

"This club... it's not new. I mean, it is new, in this incarnation. But it's a continuation of something far older. Something of unbelievable antiquity. A... a religion, I think." [mysterious - secrets - history]

"Janet, my dear, if this is true, that must mean you think Molly has some deeper purpose with all this pageantry. And that you think she had something to do with Alex's murder."

[Q: How does Janet react to these words? Enthusiastically / Ruined]

Janet slumps listlessly down into her chair. Julia takes her flask from her bag.

"Here, have a swig of this. It's good for the nerves. Or I've got something stronger in my compact, if you'd rather. Have as much as you need, there's a whole bottle in my suitcase. There's a good girl. Now, I will look after you, so you've just got to put on a brave face. If anything untoward happens at the soirée, I'll be right there with you. We'll support each other."

Janet recovers in short order, and excuses herself so Julia can unpack. As she closes the door behind her, Julia heaves a great sigh.

"She either an ally, or Molly's spy," thinks Julia, "but damned if I can decide which. This is going to be harder than I thought!"

[Because she failed the Psychology roll, Julia doesn't have any clue as to Janet's true intentions. So, since the player side of me had no information one way or the other, the DM side of me endeavoured to write Janet's conversation as ambiguously as possible. She's either telling the truth and scared of Molly, or it's all an act, sprinkled with enough truth to get Julia to tip her hand. CF +1 as the uncertainty is working against our heroine.]


Scene 14

Chaos: Madness (CF8 - d6)

Setup: 1d10=5, Interrupt (was: find Molly)
Interrupt:  NPC action - Molly Lasher - Inquire / Emotions

NPC List: DI Mitchell, Gerald "Hilly" St. Hillyer, Molly Lasher, Janet Evans

Threads: investigate Alexandra's murder/disappearance

Julia starts unpacking once Janet leaves. She's half convinced she'll need to make a hasty exit, but she can afford to leave her things behind. Besides, she can't appear to be anything other than a thrill seeker and a decadent -- not that she isn't either of these things, but this time, at least, she has a higher purpose.

Then comes a knock at the door. It's Molly Lasher, carrying a box tied up with ribbon.

"A little bird told me you'd just arrived," says Molly, "so I thought I'd drop in and see how you were settling in."

"I've not much to get settled," says Julia. "I travel light."

"I see. Well, I've brought your attire for tonight."

"May I see?"

"Please do. Only, try not to laugh. It's not terribly classical."

"That's not a problem, as it happens. I look absolutely dreadful in a peplos!"

[1d3 colours=1
d12 on the Hue column of Silent Legions Word Elements for the Cult's Name table
1d12=Ivory

Q: Any identifiable marks/characters/insignia? 50/50 (4+): O2 C1 - No, and...]

Julia opens the box and takes out a cowled robe made from a heavy, ivory-coloured fabric. "Shall I try it on?" she asks.

"Oh, go on." laughs Molly.

[Q: Anything weird? Unlikely (5+): O4 C5 - No.]

"Not bad," says Julia, admiring herself in the mirror. "Not bad at all. I could be a monk under here. One of the old ones on a mountaintop in France where they make those deadly liqueurs, to be sure. But a monk, nonetheless."

"I hope you won't look askance at our pagan revelries, Brother Julius!"

"Ha ha! But seriously, can I ask you something?"

"Why, of course."

"Tell me -- and this is in earnest -- should I wear white shoes or black? Only the white don't go with my dress so well..."

[Psychology roll (at half skill, so 20%) to suss out Molly's true mood: 65, fail
Persuade (75%) roll to keep up appearances: 60, success.]


Scene 15

Chaos: Madness (CF8 - d6)

Setup: 1d10=8, Interrupt (was: dinner & preparations)
Interrupt:   NPC negative - Molly Lasher - Struggle / Bureaucracy

NPC List: DI Mitchell, Gerald "Hilly" St. Hillyer, Molly Lasher, Janet Evans

Threads: investigate Alexandra's murder/disappearance

Then comes another knock on the door. "Expecting someone?" asks Molly.

"No. How odd. Let me see who it is. Only I'd ought to take this off first..."

Julia folds the robe and puts it in the wardrobe before answering door.

[1d6=unknown man]

"Hello?" says Julia, as she opens to door to find a stranger standing there. He is [3D6= APP 12] an average looking man, but in an expensive, tailored suit.

"Hello, Miss Quigley-Ffoulkes. Molly's not in there with you is she?"

"Yes..."

"May I speak to--"

"Timothy? Is that you?" call Molly. "Oh, damn."

Molly excuses herself, and goes out to quickly confer with him in the corridor. She comes back in a few moments later, visibly annoyed.

"Sorry, darling. There's been some problems with the caterers, and I absolutely must sort them now, personally, or we'll be having a pagan-themed temperance rally. I'll pick you up here at half ten and take you over. You oughtn't to put on the robe till we get there. But I must warn you, I am notoriously punctual. Kiss kiss, must dash."

Scene 16

Chaos: Madness (CF8 - d6)

Setup: the soirée (1d10=9: finally, no alteration!)

NPC List: DI Mitchell, Gerald "Hilly" St. Hillyer, Molly Lasher, Janet Evans

Threads: investigate Alexandra's murder/disappearance

Molly Lasher collects Julia at precisely 10:30, as she had said she would. She's looking radiant in a simple white frock, as Julia knew she would. Molly's demeanour is all sweetness and laughter -- indeed Molly can barely contain her excitement -- but underneath it all Julia can sense that the young woman is in total control of herself and her surroundings [no psychology roll necessary]. Molly delightedly reveals that she's hired the basement and tunnels beneath the Royal Pavilion for her soirée, and the two set out arm-in-arm into the night. It is pleasantly cool, for October, and since the Royal Pavilion lies but a 15 minute walk from the Metropole, Molly elects to walk.

DI Mitchell has been staking out the hotel, blending in with the people who even at this hour are strolling up and down the beachfront. [Spot Hidden (55%): d%=25, success] He sees the two women exit and begins to follow them at a respectable distance [rolling Sneak (10%) to tail: 44, fail] but he somehow manages to be rather conspicuous, hiding his face behind a copy of the Times as often as he does.

[Molly's Spot Hidden is ((2d6-2)x5 +25(base)=) 50%: d%=70, fail.] Molly, for her part, doesn't notice his clumsy attempt to follow. She's much too focussed on Julia, and is almost giddy with excitement. Julia makes no effort to see if he's there. She'd rather think that he is than think she is wholly without protection, after all. Moreover, her most pressing concern is trying to decide if miss Molly Lasher is coming on to her. Were the circumstances of their meeting less complicated, muses Julia, the good detective inspector might just have a rival for her affections.

[Q: Does DI Mitchell have a revolver? Unlikely (5+): O3 C2 - No, and...]

DI Mitchell watches them enter the pavilion, then strolls round to reconnoitre the area further, without getting too close.

Once they are inside and out of sight, they give their coats to an attendant -- a junior cult member, already dressed in ritual attire -- and put on their robes.

[Q: Are Molly's robes special? Likely (3+): O5 C3 - Yes, but...
Q: Are the other cultist's robes different than Julia's? 50/50 (4+): O2 C5 - No.]

Julia watches Molly dress with interest, expecting to see her clad in something truly magnificent, perhaps shockingly so, but in fact her robe is almost identical to the ones that Julia and the rest have been given, save for some understated bits of [d12=]black trim.

Julia estimates there must be about forty in attendance, counting the coat check attendant and three bartenders (also junior cult members, robed as the rest). [attendance: 3d20+4=43 NPCs]

There is an open bar, and a long buffet table near the back wall of the brick-floored basement chamber, opposite the almost Catholic looking altar. In the centre of the room a sort of tent has been constructed, made of long gauzy curtains hanging from the ceiling. Large candelabras provide the only light. The air is hazy with smoke, a mix of frankincense, tobacco, and marijuana, and just a little bit of opium.

[Q: Does Molly let Julia mingle? Unknown 1d6=5, Unlikely: O1 C6 - No.]

Julia quickly surveys the crowd, trying to find Hilly, but can't make him out anywhere [Spot Hidden (75%): d%=95, fail]. Molly takes her by the arm again. "Come with me, darling" she says, "let me introduce you to [1d4=3] some of my closest friends. I'm absolutely dying for them to meet you!" Molly moves at a whirl through the crowd, and Julia can barely keep up.

"Frank? Frank, darling, this is Julia. Be a dear and get us some champagne, won't you, Frank? Frank Pickman is actually related to that painter, the one who caused such a stir last season. I met him at the opening at that little gallery out in Shoreditch, of all places! They're cousins or something.... Oh, look it's Kathy! Kathy Barker, Julia Quigley-Ffoulkes. Kathy and I go back, well, darling, farther than I care to admit! We got expelled from the same boarding school in Harrow, once upon a time.... Oh, and here's Petra Theaker! She's an absolute hoot. I met her halfway up a mountain in Thibet...."

[Q: Does Molly entrust Julia to her friends whilst she prepares? 50/50 (4+): O2 C1 - No, and...]

Despite her excitement, Molly glances ever at her watch. "It's nearly time to begin, Julia darling. And I want you to help me. You did learn your lines, didn't you?"

"Of course!"

"Come with me, then, sweetie."

Molly leads Julia to the altar.

[Time to be the Keeper:

Q: Will there be a human sacrifice? 50/50 (4+): O4 C6 - Yes.
Q: Is Julia the victim? 50/50 (4+): O1 C3 - No, but... she will be compelled to help.
Q: Does Molly trust Julia? 50/50 (4+): O3 C4 - No, but... she hopes to.

What is the Ultimate Horror?

When I started this adventure, I hadn't yet figured out exactly how the mechanism for making the final determination would work. I actually got to this point before writing it all out.

The current points were as follows:
5 hound of tindalos
8 mi-go
6 byakhee

As this came to a total of 19, a d20 seemed the easiest way to make the determination.

 roll result
 ---- ------
 1-5  hound of tindalos
 6-13 mi-go
14-19 byakhee
  (20 reroll)

1d20=18, byakhee

Now that I know the Horror, I used this information to fill in some details, or rather, to help me decide what to put into the next random chart--

Q: What is the purpose of the ritual? (1D8): 1 longevity , 2 power, 3 open gate, 4 summon Hastur, 5 enchant item, 6 transformation, 7 brew space mead, 8 summon servitor
1d8=4, summon Hastur]

"Alex lost faith, you know," says Molly. "I offered her everything, but she wanted to throw it away. Tell me, you won't be a disappointment like Alex, will you?"

"What do you mean?" asks Julia

"Don't be naïve! You can't honestly believe this is all just a bit of fun, can you?"

"What... what did happen to Alex?"

"She's not really dead... not yet. But I sent my little pet to collect her. And leave enough for the police to think her dead, and announce her murder to the world."

"But...?"

"Oh, the tongue was hers all right! But the rest of the pieces brought to her flat were, shall we say, donated."

"Wait-- Alex is really alive?"

"Oh, yes. And will be for several more minutes, in fact. Long enough for you to decide if you're in, or out. And darling, I'll be ever so disappointed if you make the wrong choice."

A gong sounds, and silence falls at once over the crowd. They discard their drinks and sundry other delights round the perimeter of the room and hurry to take up position in rows before the altar, onto which Molly has dragged Julia. Lying on the black-veined marble altar itself is a young woman, awake but heavily drugged. Her hairless body has been inscribed all over with a myriad of mystical sigils, from the crown of her shaved head to the soles of her feet. It takes a moment for Julia to recognise her, but it is indeed Alex Bishop!

Frank, Kathy and Petra take up positions behind Molly. Each bears some sort of grotesque copper sistrum. Petra gives a curved copper dagger to Molly, who, smiling hopefully, presses it into Julia's hand. The gong sounds again. Molly turns toward the silent crowd, and begins the chant.

Julia forces herself to be brave [POWx5 (65%): d%=38, ok] as she gauges her next action. She's certain she spotted [sc. hidden] guns bulging beneath the robes of Molly's confederates. For now, Julia just participates in the barbarous call-and-response chanting.

The cultists become ever more frenzied as Molly leads the awful chant. When the fervour reaches its peak, Petra and Kathy take over Molly's role as she slinks up behind Julia, and puts her arms softly round her waist. "You know what you have to do, darling," breathes Molly Lasher into Julia's ear. Molly nudges Julia's arms gently upward, then starts speaking the words of a new chant, one Julia does not know.

The chanting cultists begin to sway and writhe, some screaming out the unearthly syllables until their voices become raw. There are tears streaming down Julia's cheeks, but she cannot resist the will of Molly Lasher, who even now is groaning and purring and hissing behind her.

[POW x4 (54%) to resist performing sacrifice: d%=84, failure
SAN 1/1d6: d%=45, lose 1 point, down to 53 SAN]

Julia is barely aware of being in her own body as her hands fall, plunging the wicked blade into Alex's chest. She coughs once and shudders, and seems even more dreamy as the life streams out of her.

Molly lets go her waist, and produces a small flute-like instrument from beneath her robe, upon which she begins piping a discordant melody. Out from the darkness lopes a nightmare form, a lumbering, winged monstrosity, neither insect nor mole nor bat nor decomposing cadaver, but an unholy amalgamation or parody of the natural order. The monstrosity grins at Julia with its corpse-mouth as it flops up beside Molly.

[SAN roll d%=61, fail. Seeing the Byakhee costs 1d6=3 SAN. Julia's down to 50 SAN now.]

As Molly pipes furiously and the grinning horror leers and the cultists cavort, the shadows seem to move within the curtained-off platform. Something stirs within, a thing called forth across an unimaginable gulf of space by Molly's incantations, whose gargantuan form is a very affront to all that is known and knowable to the insignificant beings upon the Earth. At once a slimy, grey-green tentacle darts forth from the curtains, and snatches a cultist from the midst of the throng, squeezing them to pulpy mass and discarding the oozing corpse of the unworthy. Again and again a tentacle darts forth, snaking between those whose terrible piety for He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named does not waver, and reducing the unbelieving to stains upon the floor and walls.

[Q: Does Julia catch glimpse of Hastur? 50/50 (4+): O4 C1 - Yes, and...
SAN roll 56, failure; d100=29 SAN lost, leaving her with 21.
Julia's Idea roll (65%) succeeds, so she suffers Indefinite Insanity.]

Julia can hear Molly laughing behind her, even over the screams of terror and ecstasy coming from the assembly. But then all sounds seem to ring distant in her ears, as she catches a glimpse through the parted curtain. She can find no words to describe the thing within, the utter malice spewing from its awful face as its abhorrent glassy eye catches her own. Then blessed oblivion claims her.

Epilogue

Julia comes to in a padded cell. She calls out in fear, and the nurses come running. She calms down at the sight of them, and they give in to her entreaties to fetch a doctor.

"Well, now, Miss Quigley-Ffoulkes," says the doctor, "it's good to see you've calmed down somewhat. You've been quite difficult since we brought you in."

"I-- I don't remember... I remember going to Brighton, and then this party, and then... oh, it's too horrible."

"Do you remember what happened at this party? Do you remember when the police arrived? Or what happened just before?"

"No, I... it's all confused. Just a flood of images. Will you help me remember? Is that why I'm here?"

"Partly."

"Partly?"

"I will help you piece together the incidents of that night. But then I've got to make a recommendation..."

"About my release?"

"Not quite. I need to assess your state of mind, and decide whether you are mentally fit to stand trial for the murder of Miss Alexandra Bishop."

 ~~ finis ~~

Post mortem

So this was probably the most like an actual Lovecraft story ending I've ever had in a CoC game. I fear that Julia's career as an Investigator has come to an end. If Molly Lasher and/or her cronies have any influence in the Crown Court (highly likely), then Julia will probably be hanged for her "crime". Molly may return to continue her villainy in future games, perhaps even as an ally -- or a rival -- of Eleanor from my Silent Legions adventure.

I find I have less to say about the mechanism of the experiment than I did in the first one, probably because I compiled all my thoughts into the little rules document before starting to write up my posts. But it worked out as well as I hoped it would.

Experiments in Horror - Call of Cthulhu (part 3)

When Julia arrives on Molly Lasher's quiet little street in Chelsea, she immediately notes the police car parked outside. She waits a little while, and is soon rewarded with the sight of a fuming DI Mitchell emerging from the building.

Scene 7

Chaos: Out of control (CF6 - d8)

Setup: d10=1, Altered (was: call on Molly Lasher)

NPC List: DI Mitchell, Gerald "Hilly" St. Hillyer, Molly Lasher, Janet Evans

Threads: investigate Alexandra's murder/disappearance

[Alteration (1d6): 1 similar murder scene, 2 no one's seen her, 3 already left for Brighton, 4 lots of friends over, 5 police over, 6 "oh good, you came"; 1d6=5

Q: Does the inspector himself come out? 50/50 (4+): O4 C5 - Yes.]

"Detective inspector! How'd you get on? We should compare notes soon. Over dinner, perhaps?"

DI Mitchell composes himself, before answering, but Julia can't help think him pleased to see her. "So, you got Hillyard talking then, did you?" [UNE: knowing - examination - previous scene]

"Have I ever! How was Miss Lasher?"

"Defiantly modern." [Defiantly / Modern]

"Sounds just my sort of girl! Why don't I go up now and ring you at the station when I'm through." [Persuade (75%): d%=55, success]

"Be my guest!"

[Q: How does Molly Lasher's flat appear? Calmly / Historical
Q: Admitted? 50/50 (4+): O5 C6

UNE--
NPC Relationship: peaceful
Conversation Mood: helpful
mysterious - uncertainty - current scene]

Name: Molly Lasher
Occupation: Cult leader
Birthplace: Northampton
Sex: F Age: 29

STR: 10  DEX: 10  INT: 17  Idea: 85
CON: 13  APP: 15  POW: 21  Luck:105
SIZ:  9  EDU: 19           Know: 95
HP:  11  SAN:  0  Damage Bonus: -



Miss Molly Lasher may be a thoroughly modern girl, yet her flat is anything but. The décor is perfectly tasteful, rather subdued even. Plenty of antique sculptures and classical portraits in oil adorn the spaces between her overfull bookcases.

Molly extends a delicate hand to greet her guest.

"Such a day for visitors!" sighs Molly. "Oh, I do hope you'll be less tedious than the last."

"I just saw a copper leaving your building, if that's what you mean," smiles Julia.

"Indeed! Now Julia -- I may call you Julia, mayn't I? -- you look familiar, but I can't quite place where we met."

"We haven't. I'm a friend of Alex's. Was a friend of Alex's? Oh, damn. It's all very shocking."

"How well did you know her? I can't say I'm surprised she came to a sudden end."

"No, I suppose she'd always liked to run that risk. She'd be tickled to know her death made the headlines!"

[Roll APP x4 (64%) to be perfectly charming: d%=30, success]

Molly laughs. "She would indeed. A toast then, to poor famous Alex. Oh, what a miserable hostess I am! I've not offered you a drink."

"Scotch would be heavenly. Rocks if there are some to hand, otherwise neat will do me just fine."

Molly ushers Julia into an overstuffed chair and pours a drink for them both.

"So, you're probably wondering why I called," says Julia. "In fact, it's because I was just to see Hilly yesterday, and your name came up."

"Indeed. He might have telephoned me and said as much." [knowing - history - last action]

"That's Hilly for you. If I'd known, I'd have asked for an introduction. But he seemed... reticent to speak of you. It seemed like he'd lost heart."

"Oh?"

"And when he showed me the medallion... well I didn't know what to make of it at first. I mean, it doesn't really go with anything in my closet, you understand. But then last night logic set in. It just seemed all so... so exclusive! Show me a shiny thing, and I have to have it. And with poor Alex leaving us all so soon, I got to wondering. Might there be an opening in your little club?"

[Persuasion roll d%=10, special success]

"In fact there just might! We've a do planned in Brighton at the weekend. Can you get away?"

"Can I! I can practically taste the rock already."

"Good. I'm afraid there isn't time to get you a medallion done up before it's time to leave. Tell you what, I'm booked in at the Metropole. Leave me a message there, and I'll bring you as my guest."

"I'm looking forward to it! What's the dress code?"

"Understated, but fashionable, darling. Fashionable! Though I should tell you that, for the high point of the soirée, some fancy dress will be provided..."

"Oh? Shan't I bring my own?"

"Heavens, no! That wouldn't do at all. We need to all look the same. You must understand, darling, we needed a way to give our little club some caché, some mystique. So I have devised a splendid entertainment, a participatory one at that. We're going to dress up and re-enact the Dionysian mysteries."

"εὐάν! But, forgive me if I may be so bold as to say that I can't see how we'll manage. Not accurately, that is."

"Oh, you know of the Mysteries."

"I know what little the ancients dared say about them. I read classics at uni, you see."

"Oh, dear. This is going to seem so very gauche, I'm afraid."

"Not at all. I like to celebrate the modern day Bacchanalia just as much as the next girl. Probably more. I think it sounds perfectly marvellous."

"Wonderful! Then you'll play along. To wit, we must chant the rites in unison, as the Priest and Priestess make the sacrifice to Dionysus. I wrote a little chant -- it sounds enough like Greek to me, though I suppose you'll find it perfect gibberish. Please don't laugh. I don't want to know how awful it is! I'll write you it out, and you must promise to learn it."

"I promise."

"There's a good girl. Oh, where are my manners? Your glass is empty!"

[N.B. I forgot to have her roll a Spot Hidden to see if she could notice anything unusual in Molly's flat before going on to the next scene. But she had such a pleasant chat that I think she forgot to even look.]


Scene 8

Chaos: Out of control (CF6 - d8)

Setup: d10=4, Interrupt (was: ring the inspector)
Interrupt:  Horror - NPC (DI Mitchell) - listen / knowledge

NPC List: DI Mitchell, Gerald "Hilly" St. Hillyer, Molly Lasher, Janet Evans

Threads: investigate Alexandra's murder/disappearance

[Meanwhile, DI Mitchell has another cult member in the interview room, and they tell him something that brings up buried memories of the raid on that den of vice near the Limehouse docks when he was a rookie. It's so chilling he loses 1d8=8 SAN.

Idea roll 60%: d%=67, failure, so no Temporary Insanity. He won't speak of it to Julia, so it doesn't furnish any Clues.]



Scene 9

Chaos: Out of control (CF6 - d8)

Setup: ring the inspector

NPC List: DI Mitchell, Gerald "Hilly" St. Hillyer, Molly Lasher, Janet Evans

Threads: investigate Alexandra's murder/disappearance

Julia rings the police station when she gets home, and in due course is connected to  DI Mitchell. [Psychology (40%) roll to detect his mood: d%=36, success]

"Detective Inspector, you sound frightened."

"Miss Quigley-Ffoulkes, I think you'd ought to go back to Cardiff. These people -- you don't know what they're capable of!"

"Yes, I most certainly do! Remember, I got into Alex's flat to see the state of it."

"Of course. How could I forget. So, did Miss Lasher have anything useful to tell you?" [inquisitive - curiosity - last action]

"They're planning on re-enacting some pagan rite! I've got an invitation."

"You can't go!"

"Don't take that tone with me, Detective Inspector, for I most certainly can! And I shall. Now, how about some quid pro quo: what progress have you made?"

"It's not a game with them. This goes well beyond spiritualism or some sort of revival of the 'Old Ways'. This is a pernicious sort of devil worship and the people are dangerously  unhinged by it." [insane - chaos - enemies]

"Well, obviously, someone's taken it too far. But I hardly think this Bacchic Revel will be any more than a bit of fun in fancy dress. Too much liquor and powders and sins of the flesh to be sure, but nothing I haven't seen before. Besides, the only way I'm going to find out what's going on is if I'm right there in it. I'm sure there must be some suspicions within the group about who killed Alex, and let's face it: none of them will talk to the police. Now, I must needs pack tonight, and head to the library first thing tomorrow before I catch my train. Just in case there is some obvious clue to be gained from the proceedings, I want to know all there is to know about the 'ancient mysteries'."

[Q: Can he ob-/interject? Unlikely (5+): O2 C5 - No.]


Scene 10

Chaos: Out of control (CF6 - d8)

Setup: 1d10=4, Interrupt (was: to the library)
Interrupt:  Horror - PC

NPC List: DI Mitchell, Gerald "Hilly" St. Hillyer, Molly Lasher, Janet Evans

Threads: investigate Alexandra's murder/disappearance

[d30=sightings of dead
Q: Is it the ghost of Alex Bishop? Unlikely (5+): O1 C2 - No, and...]

Julia packs all her things that night and arranges room service for an early breakfast. She has dinner in her room and just the teensiest little nightcap (can't be more than 4 or 5 shots in the glass), for she has a busy day ahead!

But in the early hours of the morning she wakes with a start, and the feeling that she isn't alone. She switches on bedside lamp, and grabs her gun from her handbag. The shadows on the wall seem to move & contort, taking on shadowy human form and emerging from the wall all round her. Eldritch symbols have been carved into their necks, and when the phantoms open their mouths to speak, she can see their tongues have been cut out...

[The sight will cost 1/1D8 SAN. Julia's current Sanity is 62; d%=64, fails; 1D8=8 SAN lost.
Idea roll (65%): d%=47, success, so she comprehends the true awfulness of what she has seen and must roll on the Temporary Insanity table: d10=babbling incoherent speech for 1d10+4=9 combat rounds (about a minute).
For her first bout of insanity related to mythos sources, she receives +5% to her Cthulhu Mythos skill (so has 5% total skill).]

Julia tries to ask the approaching phantoms what they want, but cannot produce more than a torrent of inchoate glossolalia. The gruesome spectres touch her and disappear, or perhaps she just faints...


Scene 11

Chaos: Out of control (CF increases to 7 - d8)

Setup: to the library

NPC List: DI Mitchell, Gerald "Hilly" St. Hillyer, Molly Lasher, Janet Evans

Threads: investigate Alexandra's murder/disappearance

By morning, her rational self is once again in control and she does her best to laugh off the strange nightmare. Imagine! being so scared by a dream as to take one's handgun from one's purse! The mysteries of the subconscious, she decides, are best left to Mr. Freud. She has other Mysteries into which to delve this fine day.

The British Museum would be the logical place to start, had she a few days to devote to the project. But she does not. So off to the London Library it is. It has plenty of volumes on the intricacies of classical history, and it's only a 6-minute walk from the Ritz, besides. Such luck she's kept her membership all these years. And she hopes she doesn't have any overdue books still out from the last season she spent in Town...

Of course, her uni days were all spent in Cardiff, so most of her visits here were for the procurement of scandalous French novels. Undaunted, she dives into the card catalogue with an intoxicating sense of purpose. Soon Julia has found an armload of old volumes and an out-of-the way carrel in which to consult them.

[Library Use 25%: d%=10, success! potential for 3 clues.]

Q: Is the incantation like anything she might recognise? Unlikely (5+): O4 C2 - No, and... unearthly language]

First she turns her attention to the incantation that Molly Lasher wrote out for her. She's read it out loud dozens of times in her hotel room, and can barely get her tongue round some of the words. Her Greek is shockingly poor [25%], but she's convinced the incantation isn't Greek at all -- not even one of the rustic dialects.

[Q: Clue about mystery cults? 50/50 (4+): O4 C3 - Yes, but...]

So she dives into the books on the Mysteries, and whilst she learns a good deal on the subject, there's nothing shocking or even particularly titillating in the accounts. Even the account in Livy tells her no more than she already knew -- though the allegations of secret murders do arouse in her an uncomfortable dread.

[Language roll for 2nd clue (1d4 for which): 1 French, 2 English, 3 Latin, 4 Greek: 3
Latin 60%: 46, success]

In a strange and dusty tome, one De Daemonibus Gentium by a certain Gyraldus Lilliensis, Julia finds a strange reference to the ancient voces magicae containing the names of demons of various pagan peoples of an earlier age. This gives Julia the idea to look again critically at the incantation. It costs her most of the afternoon, but by comparing the monstrous words to the entries in Dr Inman's Ancient  Faiths Embodied in Ancient Names, she does light upon the name of some terrible entity.

[Clue--
Location crafter: Threateningly/Macabre. Unhelpful, but sounds nice. Try again--abnormally/glorious...
Maybe the d30 tavern names will help: scarlet spider]

The old demon or spirit is said to be a threateningly macabre beast, which appears in the form of an abnormally glorious spider. Julia isn't sure what to make of this at all. She makes a cursory survey of religious history, to see if the thing ever had devotees in antiquity or the middle ages, but the hour is growing late. There is nothing more she can learn here today.

[History 40%: 81, failure.

Counting the points:
The abnormally glorious spider might refer to a byakhee (+1), but seems even more likely to be a mi-go (+2); the dimensional shambler's total is now 6 less than the mi-go's, so it is removed from the list.

New totals
----------
5 hound of tindalos
8 mi-go
6 byakhee]

perhaps I should have had Deep Ones on the list...

to be continued...