"Thank you...Thank you, No I'm fine, I just, hmmm... must have had something bad to eat...I...I just don't know...no I'm fine. Regaining his composure a bit, "thank you Robert, yes maybe I should rest, I'm sure I'll be fine in a bit".
Fergus when he gets back to his room can't seem to sleep. Images of his "nightmare" keep flashing back to him. They just seemed to real too vivid. Maybe it was time, maybe he should use the word of his lord as his crutch, instead of the bottle. With grim determination Fergus returns to his room and collects all his stashes of hooch, and slowly and methodically empties them one by one into the sink in the shared bathroom. He finally gets down to his last nearly forgotten flask concealed within his spare hollowed out bible.
Is this what my life has come to? Is my soul like this bible hollowed out, and the word of god stripped from this holy book to be replaced by this bottle, is that like my life?
With a cry of anguish Fergus hurls the last flask into the tub, the glass vessel breaking into thousands of pieces, and flying about the room. Fergus kneels in the bath un-mindful of the broken shards that pierce his knees, and begins to pray...and keeps praying...and keeps praying... The next morning that is where Robert finds him. Pale, sweating, bleeding and horse from praying all night, but with a fire in his eyes that represents his renewed spirit.
Back in her room, Rita paces the floor, unable to sleep. Her eyes darted to the door and back again frequently.
Visions of the creatures they saw in the caves flittered before her eyes, and then the image of Fergus as he was found...did they come after him ? will it be me next ? she wondered
Evelyn eventually falls asleep despite Rita's constant pacing, the day having taken it's toll on her. Her dreams are full of dark caves and something.......out in the darkness that she just can't quite ever make out.
Breakfast being over and Fergus restored to something approaching normality Robert suggest that they go and meet the ladies to plan their next move
The next morning you all gather together near Osborne's general store. I believe it is Monday morning. The weather is cool and overcast, but it isn't raining (yet). Mother Bishop lives a little west of the village proper, along Hutchins Road. According to the squire it's about a 10 minute walk from the village.
How do you wish to proceed?
"I've been giving it some thought, and I don't think its safe wid all'a us in different places. Mebbe we should try and find a place that can put all 3 of us up."
Rita adds thoughtfully
"I'm not sure I trust anyone afta the father going missing yesterday. Who did it ? Did they drug you or somethin' ?"
Three?! Is Rita already writing one of us off? If so, who is it? Me? With a slight frown, "Ummmm....I agree, we should stick together and a short walk to Mother Bishop's in daylight will be nice after all those....well....you know what I mean."
"Remember what the Squire said though ..we need a gift...he suggested a new shawl or fresh fish"
So what's the plan?
Wrinkling her nose slightly with distaste at carrying smelly fish around, especially after seeing whatever that thing was in the lake. "Lets see if we can find her a shawl then and pay a visit, shall we?"
"That sounds as good an idea as any..why don't you ladies get things organised on that front"
Rita frowns slightly.
"Only problem....the only place I've seen nearby is that store... Obournes of whatever. Do you think they'll ahve shawls ? They didn't seem like that kinda place"
She shrugs. "I suppose it can't help ta ask"
The usual crowd is hanging around Joe Osborne's store as you pop in. Joe is still friendly and helpful, and is able to point you towards a small selection of shawls that he has. There's only a few to choose from, but you find one that you hope will be suitable.
After paying you head off down Hutchins road toward mother Bishop's place. Squire Whateley was kind enough to give you good directions, so you are confident that you can find the place. As you make your way down the road, you realize you are being followed. Looking back you notice a large man trudging down the road after you. By this time you are out of the village proper and walking along a rural road that is essentially empty except for the odd homestead. The man is a good 150-200 yards down the road from you, so you can't make out his features clearly. Perhaps he isn't following you and is just on his way somewhere, but there is something about his purposeful stride that suggests otherwise. Still, he is making no attempt to hide himself.
Robert hangs back a little his ready to draw his Pistol if any threat emerges
Fergus continues his lead-legged shuffle behind the ladies. He seems to be unable to concentrate for some reason...This face...beautiful, yet sinister keeps drifting back into his thoughts.
"Than really is a lovely shawl" he states in a too loud voice, just to break the silence.
Giving Fergus a quizzical look, "Yes, it is nice, isn't it." Looking behind them, "You think we should stop and say hello?" As she says this she stops and turns toward the lumbering man.
As Evelyn turns, the man realizes that you are all aware of him walking behind you on the road. He too stops. For a moment he just stares at you then.
"We don't gets many outsiders comin round here. What yee be doing in Dunwich?"
"We don't gets many outsiders comin round here. What yee be doing in Dunwich?"
Evelyn smiles, "My name is Evelyn and this is Rita, Fergus, and Robert. We work for the The Aylesbury Transcript as reporters and have come to find out more about the accidental police deaths that happened several months back out here. The piece is to be published on the anniversary as a memorial to those who died in the line of duty. Whom might you be and do you have a few moments for some questions?" The rehearsed cover story flowing more easily from her lips the more she tells it.
The man moves forward a few more steps, but is still probably 50 yards or so away, and you pretty much have to yell back and forth at one another to be heard.
"Those were some dark times for this place. We been tryin hard to forgit about all that and git on with our lives. We don't need any city folk muckin about here tryin to dig all that up agin. Yer jus gonna cause us more pain. You ain't welcome here. Go back to the city before you git yerselves inta trouble."
"We don't gets many outsiders comin round here. What yee be doing in Dunwich?"Evelyn smiles, "My name is Evelyn and this is Rita, Fergus, and Robert. We work for the The Aylesbury Transcript as reporters and have come to find out more about the accidental police deaths that happened several months back out here. The piece is to be published on the anniversary as a memorial to those who died in the line of duty. Whom might you be and do you have a few moments for some questions?" The rehearsed cover story flowing more easily from her lips the more she tells it.
She walks toward him to be able to speak more civilly, "Of course we don't wish to cause more pain here but there are those whose loved ones were lost. Should we bury the past and not give those who valiantly gave their lives the respect their memories deserve?"
As you get closer, you can see him more clearly. He's a big man with a stooped posture and large meaty hands. His trousers and shirt are both old and dirty. He appears to be in his mid thirties, but assessing his age is rather difficult, for it is clear that he's lived a hard life. His face is ugly, and he has a large, protruding lower lip, watery eyes, and pock scarred cheeks.
He seems to be a little dim and offers little more than a grunt in response to Evelyn's words.
"Listen lady. I've said my piece. This town ain't no place for purrty girsl like you and your friend. Go home."
He gives you all one last stare and then turns his back and starts walking along the road back towards the village.
Calling after him, "What's your name?!"
He ignores your question and keeps on walking away.
"Hrrmmph", turning back she rejoins her companions. "Seems like someone sent him to keep an eye on us. Didn't seem the type to be a deep thinker on his own. Well, lets continue, shall we?"
"He certainly seemed unfriendly, didn't he. I think ya handled that very well !" Rita thinks for a moment... "Didnt the Professor tell us about the Whateleys looking kinda odd and such? I wonda if he's a relation ? Lets make a point of asking the squire when we get back...or Granny, even."
Rita scowls at the mans back as he leaves.
It should be noted that most people in Dunwich look kind of odd (in that shallow gene pool kind of way).
You make your way a little further down the road, and then turn onto a path that leads to the home of Mother Bishop. It is a single storied cabin and although one might expect it to be run down, it looks like someone has done some work to keep it somewhat maintained. Several strange fetishes (chimes, dreamcatchers and the like) hang from the porch, blowing in the breeze, creating eerie noises.
The porch creaks as you approach the wooden front door. You don't see anyone about. The door is closed and the windows are shuttered.
What next?
Evelyn knocks, "Hello?"
While they wait for the door to be opened, Rita stands back a step or two and subtly looks around to check if anyone seems to be about, watching the house, etc
You knock on the door and after a few minutes it opens. You see a wizened old crone standing in the doorway. There is an odd musty smell about her. She uses a wooden cane to support her ancient bones, and milky cataracts cloud her, which make you wonder if she can even see. Her face is incredibly wrinkled and she only has a few teeth left. She is certainly ancient, but how old she is you can't be sure.
On seeing the old woman Robert's mind goes back to the stories of Appalachian witches. Mentally chastising himself for such a flight of fancy he lets Evelynn speak first figuring she might react better to a womans voice
Evelyn pauses, unsure of what to make of the elderly woman at first but finds her voice, "....Good morning Mother Bishop, I am Evelyn Carnarvon and this is Robert, Fergus, and Rita. Squire Whatley was kind enough to give assistance and suggested that you may be able to help us also." Having trouble looking into the woman's milky eyes Evelyn finds herself studying some of the hanging fetishes near the door while she talks, "I hope we are not intruding and if it's inconvenient we can return at a more appropriate time."
"Intruding? Look at me. Does it look like I have places to be? I don't get many outsiders coming around. Do I smell fish?"
"Intruding? Look at me. Does it look like I have places to be? I don't get many outsiders coming around. Do I smell fish?"
"No....no fish." Fishing around she brings out the shawl, "I was however able to find this shawl. I know it's not much but I hope you will accept it from us"
Roberet smiles though he curses inwardly at not having brought fish as well...they should have covered all the bases...
"We would surely appreciate anything you could tell us about these here parts Ma'am"
Rita looks worried for a moment
Maybe we were followed by one of those creatures we saw at the lake...or maybe I didn't wash off all that horrible smelling grime...
...then she smiles and does her best to look pleasant but vacant headed.
Fergus still a little upset over last night, turns on his "Sunday go to meeting" charm.
With a big smile,"It is so good to meet you, do you have a minute to talk"?
She puts the shall on, and she seems to like it well enough.
"Come in then. I suppose I could spare a couple of moments. A little lively conversation will help my keep wits sharp."
She leads you inside. The interior of the farmhouse is fairly small. The room you step home is a simply furnished living room. It has a pair of wooden rocking chairs and a couple of stools and a small wooden "coffee table" and an old iron wood stove. A kettle is on the stove and you can hear water starting to boil. There is a tea set sitting on the table with several cups. It is almost as if she were expecting guests.
Two wooden doors lead deeper into the home, but they are closed. She points to a coat rack and moves towards one of the rocking chairs and takes a seat. You see a ferret curled up on the chair, and it darts out of the way as she approaches. She navigates the room with ease and takes her seat.
"Make yourselves comfortable. Care for some tea?"
"Tea would be most appreciated Ma'am"
Robert eyes the ferret guessing it's probably good at keeping down the vermin around here
You sit yourselves down (though she doesn't have room for everyone to sit), she pours Robert some tea.
"What is it that you want here in Dunwich?"
"Well Ma'am..we're doing some background pieces on the tragic events of last year and we were kinda wondering if you as the oldest person round these parts could tell us anything about the Whateleys"
"The Whateley's? So many dark stories surround that family; what exactly is it that you want to know?"
Sipping on her tea, "I wonder if that was one of them following us out here. Sort of a big lumbering fellow." She describes his clothes and face to Mother Bishop, "Do you know him?"
"By the way, I know you are not reporters, so I suggest you drop the facade and be truthful about everything you say to me.
The man you describe sounds like Lem Whateley. He's a degenerate dullard who is always getting himself into trouble. Lem's Squire Whateley's nephew, but the Squire will have nothing to do with the man. I'd avoid him if I were you.
What do you think his interest in you would be?"
"By the way, I know you are not reporters, so I suggest you drop the facade and be truthful about everything you say to me.
The man you describe sounds like Lem Whateley. He's a degenerate dullard who is always getting himself into trouble. Lem's Squire Whateley's nephew, but the Squire will have nothing to do with the man. I'd avoid him if I were you.
What do you think his interest in you would be?"
"He seemed to want to tell us that we are not welcome here accompanied by some thinly veiled threats. Could be talking on Amos' behalf but I am not sure." Pausing thoughtfully to sip her tea, "As too being forthright with you, that was my intention all along. The Squire thinks highly of you so that is all the assurance I need." She then relays the story of Wilbur, Noah, and Amos. After she has finished, "So we are here to find out what we can about Amos and his plans for the materials he is after...." She trails off hoping that Mother Bishop will pick up the conversation.
Mother Bishop listens to your tale with little expression on her face.
"It seems you already know more about the events of our village than you probably wish you did.
I have not seen the journals of Wilbur Whateley, but I'm sure there is knowledge in those journals that could be dangerous in any hands, and Professor Armitage is wise to try and keep them from the Whateleys.
I'm not sure what Amos's intentions with them would be, but I can tell you that he is as much of dim witted dullard as Lem, and it is likely that his interest is driven by greed. You of course have heard the rumors that old Noah Whateley was able to make gold. I suspect that Amos may believe there is some truth to those rumors, and perhaps he thinks the secrets to the process can be found in the journals"
Robert feels somewhat chagrined that his lie was so easily penetrated he lets Evelynn carry on the questioning
"Do you think that anyone else who may have knowledge of Amos and his plans would be willing to talk to us?" She thinks for a moment, "There is also something else we have come across." She relays the story about their spelunking adventures, "Do you have any idea what they were using those tunnels for, what the door leads too, or that weird metal room might be?"
"Do you think that anyone else who may have knowledge of Amos and his plans would be willing to talk to us?" She thinks for a moment, "There is also something else we have come across." She relays the story about their spelunking adventures, "Do you have any idea what they were using those tunnels for, what the door leads too, or that weird metal room might be?"
"Amos Whateley doesn't have many friends. Perhaps his brother Curtis, but Curtis might be a little hard to talk to. Ever since, the incident on Sentinel hill when Armitage drove the horror back to where it came from, Curtis has not been right in the head.
As for the things you saw in the caves, I can't tell you much. Those caves are ancient, and their depths hides secrets that are unknown to me. I do know that long ago there were people living here that thought these hills had significance, enough significance that they covered their domed tops with the standing stones you've seen. Something is down there, and I fear that sometime in the future, when the stars are right, it will awaken from its slumber."