It takes Dr. Hanmer several attempts, but he he is able to get a small patch of the black, oily sand to produce some greasy smoke: the smell is unpleasant, like burning hair.
LCDR Readington-Smythe notices some twitching movement in the dirty cloth shrouding a boxy form in the rear of the room.
Henry trains his gun on the twitching cloth before calling out "Sirs? Something is moving over here!" Once he has their attention, he moves over and pulls the cloth back with his left hand while keeping the gun trained with his right.
Edward quickly stows his flask, draws his pistol and wheels about at the LCDR's urging.
Adrenaline is rushing through Edward's body.
The doctor nervously holds the torch to try and best provide light for the two gentlemen. His shaking hand casts a flickering light around the room.
Yanking the cloth back, LCDR Readington-Smythe sees a tall, free standing mirror; with an ornate, bronze frame, on which spidery characters are incised.
As he looks into the clouded glass of the mirror, he feels the cloth; wriggling with a detestable animation, trying to yank itself out of his hand.
Henry yanks back!
Do the spidery characters look deliberate, or from the glass having cracked?
And, can we tell if cloth's animation is due to wind?
LCDR Readington-Smythe: The cloth tears from your hands, and then the cloth unfurls and glides over Mr. Carter's head, sailing towards Dr. Hanmer.
Dr. Carter: The characters are definitely some kind of writing (if you have language points, you can spend a point to purchase the language). The movement of the cloth is definitely not the wind.
Difficulty 4 Stability test for the 'ghost-like' motion of the cloth.
Edward uses his Language Skill to see if he recognizes the writing.
.
Edward recognizes the language but cannot translate it because he starts to shiver and tremble as the cloth reveals its otherworldly attributes. Goosebumps start crawling up and down his arms, and sweat breaks out on the old fellow's forehead.
Like Mum used to say, "A goose just walked over my grave."
Henry gapes! "What in the name of the King is that?" He grabs at the sheet and tries to haul it off the older man's head!
As the cloth, like some winged bird of doom glides over-head, Mr. Carter quails in trembling fear (loose 4 points of stability).
Mr. Carter is, regrettably, again Shaken, and cannot spend points from his Investigative pool until he can next pass a Stability test.
During his Holy Land excursions to collect the artifacts needed for the university's museum, Mr. Carter discovered that the artifacts' documents had been taken to Rome during the First Century. Later, as the Western Roman Empire collapsed, the scrolls were taken to Ireland, where monks labored for decades translating the texts from Aramaic and Hebrew to Old Irish.
It was there that Carter was able to foster a working knowledge of the old Gaelic scripts. While he cannot speak the language, he does feel comfortable reading it, given enough time. While he was in Dublin, he also wrote one of his more popular stories, "The Protuberance from the Moor", which he sold to the American pulp magazine WEIRD TALES magazine in 1936.
The cloth seems to dive at the torch in Dr. Hanmer's hand.
So thinking of those ancient monks, and their tireless labors, seems to alleviate a little of Mr. Carter's growing distress; the shadows lighten just a little.
"Goodness!" Dr. Hanmer shuffles back, as the strangely animated cloth dives for the torch held in his shaking hand.
What in the name of all that's Holy?! Edward exclaims.
Edward musters his courage and grabs the torch, helping his cousin keep the bizarre cloth from snuffing out their only source of light.
The cloth slithers around the torch, catching fire as it does; is it trying to immolate itself?
"Cousin! Take hold of the cloth, I'll pull the torch back as you take that possessed cloth!"
Edward reaches into his pocket and whips out a pen knife.
Let's hope this works, he thinks. This ol' knife has been with me since the World War, and is probably as dull as a vicar on a rainy day.
I can donate 2 pts to you!
Edward attempts to pull the torch free from the cloth.
With LCDR Readington-Smythe bracing Dr. Hanmer, Mr. Carter unwinds the cloth, like unreeling line from a spool.
As he does so, the loose end of it flicks, almost teasinginly, as his face.
The moldy cloth, somewhat comically, slaps Mr. Carter across the face.
.
The 'blow' does nothing but stir up dust into Mr. Carter's face.
Like a striking cobra uncoiling, the cloth spins itself up into the air.
What in bloody hell? Edward yells. What demonic beast have we awakened here?
Edward tosses the torch to the floor and draws his pistol.
Time to put an end to this perversion, he thinks.
"Sir, it's just a phantasm, a trick of our minds! We must press on! Destroy it, for we must face a greater enemy!" Henry looks slightly mad, with his wide eyes and wild look!
Emrys quickly goes to grab the torch his cousin threw to the floor to ensure the cloth won't make another attempt to extinguish their source of light.
Edward nods. You are correct, Lieutenant-Commander. We must keep our heads, for Crown and Country.
The old man lowers his pistol and thanks his cousin for retrieving the torch.
The towel from hell darts downwards, a coil slipping around Dr. Hanmer's neck as he bends down to pick up the dropped torch.
The cloth tightens, becoming a garrote; and Dr. Hanmer's face purples grotesquely.
.
Edward quickly holsters his pistol in his belt, and then pulls out the knife and begins slashing, as much as one can slash with a penknife, to keep the demonic cloth from choking his cousin to death.
Edward pulls his upper lip back like a snarling dog as he slashes at the demon rag.
He cusses under his breath as the penknife snags on the fabric.
The elder doctor wriggles about as he claws at the rag trying to remove it from his neck.
The garrote-like pressure of the noose loosens, as the the loose end of the rag uncoils in a snapping motion, over Dr. Hanmer's shoulder, to lash at LCDR Readington-Smythe, standing behind him.
The tattered edge of the cloth strikes him a stinging blow in the face.
The Lt Commander swears loudly as the thing whips across his face! He draws a trench knife from his belt and makes to cut the thing!
Edward grabs the part of the demon rag with both hands and tries to wrench it free from his cousin's neck, his (Edward's) face locked in a tight grimace of stress and determination.
LCDR: 1d6 for damage please.
Mr. Carter: Grunting with exertion, you pry the damned thing from your cousin's bruised neck.
LCDR Readington-Smythe's powerful stroke rends the dirty cloth into two pieces, which flutter and twitch like dying insects.
Gasping for air, the elder doctor turns to his cousin, "Thank you cousin. It'd be a shame to pass from an inanimate object. Now, I wonder what in Lord's name could have made this silly piece of cloth come to life."
"Cousin! Are you... are you okay?"
Edward is wide-eyed and trembling, but not as much, he surmises, as Emrys' is.
The two pieces of cloth flutter downwards, but just before they reach the floor; they begin to jerkily rise.
Like sluggish bats the pieces of cloth cleave through the air.
There is a sudden flurry of motion, as the flapping rags buffet the heads of Mr. Carter and LCDR Readington-Smythe.
Mr. Carter is slapped across the face.
Their uncanny animation apparently spent, the dirty bits of cloth fall back to the ground.
Except for your labored breathing, all is quiet.