Tonight was our first session of what I hope will be a long-running Call of Cthulu campaign. I had only run the game once before, so the rules were a bit shaky but everyone had a good time as far as I know. The game begins on October 20, 1927 in Boston, Mass with an investigation into a haunted property ("The Haunting" from the back of the 6th edition CoC rulebook). I think my players are still adjusting to the mindset of the game, since we're coming off of D&D and everyone decided they were packing heat. Details are still a bit sketchy, but our investigators are:
Dr. Donald Harrison, M.D.- At 47, Dr. Harrison is a well-respected physician. Classically educated overseas in Cambridge, he picked up fencing during his time abroad as a means of staying in shape and protecting his person from roustabouts and ne'er-do-wells. A particularly bad accident or assault in his past has lead to a debilitating injury and a fragile psyche. The good doctor must walk with a cane which conceals a rapier in case things should grow dire; in the worst case scenario, he turns to his .45.
Prof. Darla Donnawitz- Prof. Donnawitz teaches the newly minted discipline of Archaeology at Wellesley college outside of Boston. During her 36 years, the Professor has gone on a number of digs around the world and while she is a woman of average size, years spent climbing and digging throughout the world has given her a degree of upper body strength that far exceeds expectations. Beyond this and her connection to Mr. Horowitz, the landlord of the property, we know little else.
Detective Ed Merkle- Detective Merkle is a hard-nosed veteran of the Boston police force. With little more education than a few years of high school and time at the police academy or on the beat, Merkle rose through the ranks through both his skill at observation and his larger than life presence. A hulking figure in a trenchcoat, fedora pulled on over his salt and pepper hair, the detective is "getting too old for this s+~*" but is far too stubborn to let even some (likely phoney) haunting keep clogging up his case files.
Bonnie (with the Gams)- A transplant to New England from rural Arkansas, Bonnie is not only one of the first female masters degree recipients from Miskatonic University she's also the first female journalist for the Boston Globe and will gladly give you the dirt on how hard she's had to claw her way up to get there. Bonnie's reported from the trenches during the Great War (and isn't half bad with a machine gun as a result) only to be stuck writing some ridiculous seasonal piece on Boston hauntings. Since her older cousin Ed's working the case already, Bonnie figured she could tag along on his investigation to see if Dr. Harrison's theory about a hallucinogenic mold might pan out. Bonnie is physically fit, but rather slight. A mild case of rosacea keeps her from being truly attractive; a confrontational attitude born of a professional life spent struggling to not only equal her male counterparts but to exceed them has made it rather difficult to make new friends and acquaintances.
Another investigator or two may join our intrepid friends in the next weeks, but for now these four are out and on the case. Tune in soon to see how their first look at the Corbett house pans out.
Sounds good James; I'll follow with interest.
I'm onboard too.
Hope your players will quickly catch the difference between CoC and D&D (foremost the emphasis on stealth, study and running, because usually you are the get hacked and slashed)... Else it'll be a short campaign!
They're doing okay so far. I've helped them along a bit here and there after a Know or Idea roll. It helps that this first adventure doesn't have an obvious physical threat yet: just a creepy haunted house. I'm also new to the game, so it's a learning experience all around. I'll have a summary of our first session soon.
Nice character sketches. I'll be lurking as well.
Dateline- October 20, 1927 Location- The Office of Detective Ed Merkle, Boston P.D
We start with all of the investigators and Mr. Horowitz, the landlord of the ill-rumored Corbett House. Detective Merkle has finally cleared enough cases to get to looking into this supposed haunting, which had resulted in the hospitalization of Mr. and Mrs. Macario several months before. While Professor Donnawitz is tagging along with to help her cousin out, Dr. Harrison's curiosity was peaked by an article in the Globe about the haunting- the Detective has brought him in as a consultant. Cousin Bonnie invited herself in, smelling a scoop. The gumshoe is none too pleased, but he'll let the dizzy dame tag along if she swears not to touch anything.
Our investigators start by grilling the landlord. He admits that he had heard the stories about the haunted property, but figured it was such a good deal he would buy it and rent it out. Ghosts don't exist, right? Well, Mr. Horowitz regrets it now. He just wants the place looked into so he can be assured that it's safe. He admits to never having spent a night there personally and vouches for the Macarios' good nature prior to the... unpleasantness. General "ghost activity" seems to be the only explanation, though he volunteers that the Macarios have been taken to the Roxbury Sanatarium a short drive out of the city. He drops off the keys and the address and offers to pay good cash when the property gets a clean bill of health.
"So, wait, why do we need the doctor around for a haunting?", asks Bonnie.
"Well, y'know, he's here to examine the house's prostate.", replies Ed.
Everyone in the office stared at Detective Merkle.
"Detective... do you know what a prostate is?", asked Mr. Horowitz.
"Yeah, uh, you carry your wife over it when you move in. It's part of the entrance.", says the Detective.
The rest of the investigators keep mum and Mr. Horowitz takes his leave. The group decides to split up: Dr. Harrison will take his sedan up to Roxbury to speak with the Macarios, Bonnie will check the "Morgue" at the Globe (the old clippings in the basement) for some info on this Corbett House and Detective Merkle will go with Professor Donnawitz to look at the house itself.
The doctor drives his (expensive) car up to Roxbury asylum, parks and hobbles in. A friendly receptionist greets him in the lobby. Clearly being a respectable medical professional, the good doctor easily persuades the receptionist to give him a chance to interview the Macarios and peruse their files. Dr. Harrison takes a seat and reviews the charts, noting that they both seem to be suffering from post-traumatic stress of some variety. Vittorio (the husband) went mad first, then Mrs. Macario about a year later. She's been committed for a few months.
The receptionist returns with an orderly to bring Dr. Harrison to the visiting room to speak to Mrs. Macario. She explains on the walk that Mr. Macario is quite upset: they are loathe to take him from his cell at the moment as his nerves remain quite frayed. He finds Mrs. Macario slouched at a corner table, premature streaks of grey in her dark hair. Though agitated by his line of inquiry, she tells the doctor that she would often wake to find a man with glowing eyes leaning over her in bed; it wasn't a dream, she swears, she could feel his presence. The ghost hated her husband and often targeted him with its horrible attentions, causing objects to hurl toward him out of nowhere, causing awful sounds and smells throughout the house. It all started shortly after they moved in, she said, and Vittorio put up with it for several months until it drove him mad. It was at this point the poor woman broke down and the attending orderly had to gently bring her back to her room.
Before leaving Dr. Harrison asked for an opportunity to observe Mr. Macario. He was lead to the poor man's room. He was huddled in the corner, muttering uncontrollably in italian. As an orderly brought him his lunch, he screamed at the sound of the hinges- unsettled by the sudden sound. Having seen enough, the doctor departed, patient files in tow. He was still convinced the house must have had a severe mold problem, likely posing a public health risk. Though a cursory physical examination had been performed, he couldn't rule out an hallucinogenic spore in the old house. Personal examination being warranted, he drove to the Corbett house.
Meanwhile, at the Boston Globe
Bonnie bids Myra, the secretary a brief hello before heading down toward the Morgue. Myra, ever the friendly sort, reminds our itinerant journalist that the records only go back as far as 1878, when a fire destroyed the old archives. In the moldy basement archives, Bonnie finds a trail of misadventure and creepy happenings stretching back a long ways.
She immediately sets aside the Macario family clippings as information already known. As far back as 1880 a family of French immigrants moved in and shortly fled after a series of accidents, leaving the parents dead and three children crippled. The next clipping from 1909 painted a similar picture, though this time the family fell prey to illness. In 1914, a young man went mad and killed himself with a kitchen knife. His distraught family shortly moved away. Finally, in 1917 a family rented the house but left it almost immediately.
Armed with her new findings, Bonnie makes a quick look through the Boston Public Library, finding only a mention of a lawsuit from 1852 directed at one Mr. Walter Corbett from his neighbors, seeking to force him to leave for his "surious [sic] habits and inauspicious demeanor".
From a payphone nearby, Bonnie rings Detective Merkle's office but the station's operator informs her that the Detective is still out of his office. Figuring her cousin is still at the Corbett House, she drives over to the haunted property.
At the Corbett House
Detective Merkle and Professor Donnawitz find themselves peering about a brick bungalow perched deep in the shadows of two large neighboring buildings. All the curtains are drawn, all the windows shut. Stepping up to the front door, the duo unlock the entrance to a wide, silent hallway. As they step inside, they cannot help but note four additional bolts on the inside of the door. Someone was very serious about security. The house is musty, like the windows haven't been opened in a long time. But there's a faint smell of something rotten and disgusting. After a short look around in the hallway, they decide to look into the room on the right, which proves to be a fairly typical living room with an open archway leading to a dining room.
"Guess the Macarios were Catholics...", comments Prof. Donnawitz, pointing to the enormous array of crucifix around the room.
"Yeah,"grunts Det. Merkle,"Suppose they were also worried about prowlers. Look at these windows: nailed shut. Tell me that ain't weird."
Joining the detective at the window, the Professor could see each of the windows were nailed shut. Detective Merkle goes tense and grabs his revolver in its holster.
"You hear that?", he says.
"Hear what?", replies Darla, looking at the ceiling.
"I heard a thump upstairs, like someone's up there. C'mon, which way's the stairs?"
"I don't know, I've never been here before."
"Fine. Follow me, try to stay quiet."
The professor and the detective proceed into the dining room, which they find still set for a meal. A quick look in the soup tureen on the table confirms that rotted rice soup is on the menu. Further on, they pass through a small kitchen. Though most of the shelves are bare, some canned goods here and there remain edible. Rat spoor litter the floor. Detective Merkle leads the way out of the kitchen back into the hallway, finding a set of stairs leading up to the second floor.
"I..I'll stay down here.", says a sheepish Professor Donnawitz.
"Yeah. You do that.", replies the detective, pulling out his .38.
Thumping his great frame up the stairs, Detective Merkle calls out,"BOSTON POLICE, COME OUT WITH YOU HANDS UP!" Getting no reply, he tries to recall which upstairs bedroom was the source of the noise. Choosing the closest bedroom to the stairs, he swiftly shrugs the door open, revolver at the ready...
To an almost empty bedroom, though it reeks terribly. A bedframe, a bare bedspring and an empty dresser are the only things Detective Merkle could see. He set about examining the room, trying to find where the sound could have come from... when up from the floorboards spread a pool of blood. The detective watches for a moment as it slowly spread.
"What the hell...", he mutters aloud, adjusting his fedora,"Must be something in the crawlsp-"
His musings are interrupted however by a faint scratching at the window. Flattening himself against the wall, revolver at the ready, he peers out but can see nothing. Going in for a closer look, he's quite surprised at the bedframe lurches suddenly to smash into him with great force, knocking him from the window!
Professor Donnawitz is shocked to hear a loud crash from upstairs, followed by a litany of curses and a loud thump outside. She rushes outside to find the ankles and feet of Ed Merkle sticking up like a crushed insect from the bushes outside.
"Are you all right?!",she yelps.
"F%~*ING BED THREW ME OUT THE G!~~%+N WINDOW!!",shouts Merkle, his face red and furious.
"Come on, get out of that bush-"
"S!&$! Must have sprained my f$*@ing ankle..."
On the lawn, Professor Donnawitz takes a look at Merkle's ankle and sets it well enough with some bandages from the first aid kit in the trunk of his car- just in time for the Doctor to arrive.
Stepping out of his car with the aid of his cane, Doctor Harrison strides up to his fellows.
"Did I miss anything?", he asks with a slight smirk.
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We are just wrapping up a Mask of Narlynhotep (sp?) campaign. We had a freakishly tall Italian woman in the party whose nickname was "gams." :)
Your players are starting out way more armed then any I have seen in my Cuthlhu days. Do you see much combat? In our game it usually means a PC death if we dont flee unless we have the upper hand in the encounter.
No, this is the first session for most of us, not a single combat yet. I've run this one once before and one player has played a session. The other guy with more experience was sick so he wasn't at this first game. I expect that they'll quickly learn why shoot outs are a bad idea once they get into one, but coming off of D&D I think they felt incomplete without a weapon of some sort.
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No, this is the first session for most of us, not a single combat yet. I've run this one once before and one player has played a session. The other guy with more experience was sick so he wasn't at this first game. I expect that they'll quickly learn why shoot outs are a bad idea once they get into one, but coming off of D&D I think they felt incomplete without a weapon of some sort.
That is completely understandable. I cant wait to hear about their sanity checks!
"Surely you are mistaken, Mr. Merkle.", replied Doctor Harrison."Perhaps you SAW the bed attack you under the influence of a spore of some sort, but-"
"First of all, that's DETECTIVE Merkle. Second of all, why don't you go on up and have yourself a look, Doc? See what you think when blood starts comin' outta the floor and the bed throws you out the window!"
"Very well," says Doctor Harrison. But before he can head inside for a proper look, Bonnie rolls up to the house in her own car.
"Hey, everyone, I found some- what happened to you?", Bonnie says to her cousin.
"He took a spill.", replies the Doctor,"What have you found?"
"The house isn't good for anyone's health, I can tell you that much. And the guy that owned it in the late 1800s was sued by his neighbors for being a creep. They wanted him out. Think I'll take a look inside.", says Bonnie, hoisting her camera.
"Oh no you're not!", shouts Detective Merkle,"Your ma's gonna kill me, somethin' happens to you!"
Dr. Harrison leaves the cousins to argue as Professor Donnawitz rolls her eyes and follows the doctor back into the house.
The doctor holds a handkerchief over his mouth and nose, both for his theory about mold and the awful smell in the stuffy house. He hobbles up the creaky stairs to the first bedroom upstairs. He finds the room disturbed, the bed at an odd angle against the wall under the broken window, a small pool of blood on the floor. Doctor Harrison, with great effort, kneels to the pool of blood and picks up a small sample in a tissue. Examining it, he hypothesizes that it's likely rat blood, having done some experiments with rats himself at Cambridge. Looking at the floor, Professor Donnawitz notes the scrapes in the floor- the bed must have been shoved very hard and suddenly into Detective Merkle. Without another person in the room to throw the bed into him, the detective's story becomes more difficult to discount.
Meanwhile, outside...
Bonnie has managed to get her stubborn cousin to agree to at least let her take some photos from outside the house. They walk around the property, Bonnie snapping photos here and there. The two of them notice a strange white symbol painted on the side of the house, at around knee level. The symbol is comprised of three Ys with their arms touching, surrounding a drawing of an eye. Both the journalist and the detective find that they feel a slight headache just from looking at this thing. Bonnie snaps a photo.. and runs for the side door! Detective Merkle tries to catch up, but his diminutive cousin is too quick for him.
"I'm gettin' too old for this s#*#!", he bellows. "Just- just stay on the ground floor, will ya?"
Bonnie went from the mud room (with its many deadbolts on the inside) into the hallway. Her cousin had told her he looked through the kitchen and living room on the opposite side, so she started to snoop through the storage room on the side. Through the tangle of boxes, old bicycles and rusted toys she spots a cupboard which is completely boarded up. Sensing a scoop, she finds a crowbar conveniently placed nearby and starts working on the cupboard. After only a short exertion, she pries the boards loose and finds three leather bound notebooks. Looking inside at the flyleaf on the first page, Bonnie finds that the books are property of one W. Corbett. As she begins to read the journal, she hears a slight drip sound, as if water we leaking. Soon it's joined by another drip. And another, with greater frequency. Looking up from her book, she can see that the ceiling is dripping blood all around her. Clutching the journals to her chest, she runs from the room and out the nearby front door.
"I think we should leave!", she yelps.
One or two more entries and I should be caught up through last night. I write too slow.
Unsettled by the events at the Corbett House, our investigators decided to do some more research. Bonnie hit on the idea of checking if this Walter Corbett left a will or record of death. Heading to the Hall of Records, which was conveniently still open, the investigators peeled away another significant skin from the delicious onion of the case.
Walter Corbitt's will stipulated that he be buried in his own basement. A lawsuit was filed to prevent this, but the outcome wasn't recorded. Executor of his will was one Reverend Michael Thomas, pastor of the Chapel of Contemplation & Church of Our Lord Granter of Secrets. Professor Donnawitz cross-checks the chapel on the registry of churches, which notes that the Chapel closed in 1912. Detective Merkle, on a whim, checks the civil court records from the time and while there were actions taken against the Chapel in 1912, the actual records are absent.
Ushered from the building while the clerk closes up, the investigators agree to reconvene in the morning at Detective Merkle's office to check out this church. In the evening, Bonnie starts reading Corbitt's journals detailing his occult practices. She finds herself disturbed but also intrigued by what she finds within, including specific instructions on a spell to 'Summon the Walker Between Worlds". She decides to study the tome further... for the good of the story, of course.
Detective Merkle arrives at the Boston Central Police station early for the meeting, having been stricken with a hunch: perhaps the station has something on this chapel. After rooting around through buried reports, the hulking flat-foot comes up with paydirt: records of a police raid performed in 1912. The police acted- perhaps rashly- on sworn affidavits from various people in the neighborhood that the Chapel was responsible for a spate of missing children in the area. During the raid, three policemen and seventeen cult members were killed by gunfire. Record of the autopsies were spotty at best: Detective Merkle doubts they had even been performed. Although 54 church members were arrested, only eight were held. The entire affair seems rushed into obscurity, perhaps by outside pressures...
Pastor Michael Thomas was arrested and sentenced to forty years in prison, but managed to escape in 1917 and fled the state.
Armed with this new information, the investigators drive to the neighborhood around the Corbett house where the former site of the Chapel was only a short distance away. Mr. Dooley, a cigar and newspaper vendor, points out the fire blasted ruins of the Chapel (after Dr. Harrison purchases one of the finer cigars, naturally). On a crooked, dingy street, the ruins stand crooked and covered in greenery. On a slumping wall are daubed several of the triangle symbols that induce headaches in our investigators, much like at the Corbett place.
Looking through the rubble while Bonnie shoots photos, the investigators find mostly rubbish... until Detective Merkle kicks away enough dust to note the groaning floorboards below them.
"Aw, son of a-", he bellows, just before a loud snap signals the collapse of the floor. Both the detective and Professor Donnawitz crash through the dust into a basement, but Doctor Harrison manages to throw himself clear- though his gimp leg is bound to make him pay for it later.
Coughing out the dust, the duo look around. Two skeletons clad in silk robes lay tangled on the floor, brittle bones almost dust. Rotted cabinets and a lectern with a book bound in pale leather also become apparent as Bonnie leans over and shouts,"ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!"
"Yeah, just get us outta here!", replies her cousin, pulling an electric torch from his pocket.
"I'll get some rope! Don't go anywhere!",says Dr. Harrison, disappearing from view of the two investigators trapped below. Lacking any other recourse, the detective and the professor make some examinations of the room around them. It's quickly apparent that the cabinet contains church records. Chained on the lectern though it may be, the duo scan the book bound in strange leather- entirely written in latin. Perhaps the Doctor with his fancy Cambridge education could piece it together? They find a storm door as well at the end of the basement. Detective Merkle rolls up his sleeves and pushes with all of his might, but it seems the rubble piled atop it have sealed it shut. Professor Donnawitz makes the attempt herself... and shoves it open handily! Fresh air and sunlight bathe our intrepid sleuths as Detective Merkle appraises his new acquaintance in a new light.
They leave the basement only to find Dr. Harrison hobbling back with a coil of rope over one shoulder.
"Sit tight, now; we'll have you out of- oh, you're out.", he says.
Trekking back into the basement, Bonnie and Darla pour through the church records and verify that Walter Corbett was indeed buried in his basment "in accordance with his wishes and that of the One Who Waits In the Dark." Dr. Harrison has made another important find: being a medical man, he recognizes that the tome is bound in nothing less than human skin. Within, he finds the title Liver Ivonis or "Book of Eibon". Unfortunately (or fortunately for our Doctor's fragile psyche) the book is water damaged and worm eaten, with entire sections destroyed.
The noon hour approaching, our investigators must return to their normal duties. Detective Merkle has cases to supervise and Bonnie needs to check in with her editor and develop her film, while Dr. Harrison has house calls to make and Professor Donnawitz has a lecture at three to prepare for. They agree to crack open the basement in a few days after Bonnie has read the journals in full and Dr. Harrison has studied the Liber Ivonis for what he can piece together.
To say the least, it shall make an interesting piece for his nightstand.
The investigators took several days off from the investigation of the Corbett House to attend to personal matters. During that time, Doctor Harrison was able to pore over the Liber Ivonis and piece together what the moldering, worm-eaten book contained with his college Latin. He left the reading disturbed- the book was supposedly the research of an ancient wizard named "Eibon". What little he could piece together painted a picture of daemon conjuring experiments, bizarre realities and gates to other worlds. While he attempted to scoff at the primitive superstitions held within the book, his fragile psyche was still rattled by what this ancient and ghastly book contained. Doctor Harrison made a note to find a psychoanalyst and make an appointment.
Bonnie, meanwhile, read the journals of the late Walter Corbitt. The journals contained information on his tests and research into the realm of the occult and the outlandish results that followed. Bonnie even found the formula of one particular spell to "Summon the Walker Between Worlds". Though uncomfortable with the journal of an obviously mad man, the reporter couldn't help but think this spell could be the start of a sensational article. Placing a bookmark in the journal, she resolved to return to it when the investigation was over.
The investigators reconvene at the police station and, after swapping information gleaned from the various old books, drive to the Corbitt House... only to find a luxury sedan parked outside of the property, a driver within. Walking the grounds was a short, fit man of about 35 in very finely tailored clothes. He seems to be inspecting the house.
Detective Merkle walks up to the man, badge in plain view.
"I'm Detective Merkle, Boston PD. We're in the middle of an investigation, I'm gonna need you to leave the property."
The man looks over the group and addresses the detective.
"Good day, Detective. My name is Melvin Worgan: I'm looking to buy this property and Mr. Horowitz informed me you would be here today. I'd like to take a look at the house while you're performing your investigation."
"Listen, pal, this is a dangerous place. Why don't you head back to your mansion and we'll give you a ring when the investigation is wrapped up.", replied the detective.
"So, I presume you are all police then?", replied Mr. Worgan.
The investigators cleared their throats and started in on explanations.
"What exactly are you investigating?", he continued.
Before anyone else could reply, Dr. Harrison said,"Mold. The house has a severe mold problem and I believe it has severe hallucinogenic qualities. The last few residents has violent episodes, even Detective Merkle experienced the effects."
The doctor pointed to the broken window and crushed shrubbery, much to Detective Merkle's chagrin.
"You may wish to reconsider your investment Mr. Worgan."
In reply, Melvin pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it around his nose and mouth.
"Well, it seems I'm as prepared as the rest of you. And since this isn't entirely a police investigation it seems like there's no harm in my tagging along. Please,"he said, gesturing to the front door,"lead on."
Grumbling, Detective Merkle unlocked the front door. Bonnie turned to Mr. Worgan with a serious question:
"Just what will you do with this house when you've bought it, Mr. Worgan?"
"Well, Miss, with the automobile becoming so commonplace, I thought I would take this property and demolish the house, covering the grounds with asphalt. Once a gate is installed, motorists will be able to park their vehicles off the street for a small fee."
The foul stench so familiar from their previous visit was, if anything, even more prevalent than before. Soon all of our intrepid investigators were following Melvin's example and covering their mouths and noses. Walking down the hall toward the basement door, Detective Merkle started to feel dizzy and strange. He blinked and shook his head, but the feeling lingered.
Suddenly grinning with suppressed mirth, he took an unexpected right into the kitchen.
"Uh, Ed, what are you doin- AH!", shouted Professor Donnawitz, leaping toward the towering gumshoe as he attempted to swallow a heavy kitchen knife. Bonnie, likewise, shouted in dismay and tried to wrest the knife from her cousin.
The massive police detective was too much for them, however. Though they prevented a potentially lethal wound, Detective Merkle inflicted several severe cuts on the inside of his mouth and lips. With blood running from his mouth onto his long coat, reason returned to the detective's eyes.
"WhuhthuhFUGHH?!", he exclaimed through his shredded mouth, as Darla pushed him into a nearby chair. Reaching into his bag, Dr. Harrison began to bandage the detective as Bonnie recounted what happened.
"You just started grinnin' like a madman, Ed and then you tried to swallow that knife!"
"Must be a pretty severe mold problem.", said Melvin.
"Well... mold or a ghost.", replied Dr. Harrison,"Two possibilities."
With Detective Merkle's mouth stuffed with cotton and a few stitches, Melvin lead the way into the cellar. When the lightbulb above the entryway failed to light after a few tugs on the cord, it became very obvious there was a problem with the fusebox. Firing up their flashlights, the investigators slowly began their trip down the rickety stairs into the dark basement. Going last, the hobbling Dr. Harrison very nearly took a bad spill. Only the immense bulk of Detective Merkle kept him from harm.
"Ah, your pardon Detective.", said the nervous doctor.
"Nuhpuhbluhm",replied the detective, gripping Dr. Harrison's arm and leading him down the rest of the way.
In the scant light of their electric torches, the investigators could see that the stone masonry of the basement was interrupted by some wooden additions: directly in front of them was a small storage room while on the left was an entire wall screening off the other half of the basement. The investigators fanned out, looking through the detritus littered throughout the basement for any clues they could find. Though they found little beyond scattered tools, pipes and lumber, Professor Donnawitz figured out that the wooden wall bisecting the room was hollow.
"Think ya can break that down, beefsteak?", asked Detective Merkle.
"Either that or yer jaw, you-", began Darla, her retort cut off by a sudden shriek from Bonnie.
The investigators were aghast to find that Bonnie had been stabbed in the back! Dr. Harrison pulled the blade from poor Bonnie's back only to watch it float in the air and ready for another attack! Though Melvin attempted to grab the thing from the air, it proved too quick for him. Reacting quickly, our investigators dove away from the floating knife while Detective Merkle drew his .38 revolver and fired, knocking the dagger from the air.
While Melvin turned away to allow Bonnie some modesty as Dr. Harrison and Prof. Donnawitz worked on her wound, the detective carefully picked up the knife. It was an antique implement, caked with rust on the blade. Ed could feel it tugging at his hand, trying to get loose as he pulled it into the storage room. Thinking quickly, he deposited it into the coal bin and blocked the storage room door from the other side.
With Bonnie's wound treated, the investigators decided that it would be best to let the professor bring her considerable strength to bear on the wall. Hungry for some revenge, Bonnie loaded her sawed off shotgun. With a heavy pipe, Darla broke in a large section of the wall only to find swarms of rats! The squealing pests oozed from the wall in a reeking tide, fleeing up the stairs.
The vermin gone, the investigators could read the words "Chapel of Contemplation" on a second wooden wall behind the one Darla had knocked in. With another great heave, the brawny professor knocked in the second wall to reveal a musty, reeking room with a straw pallet in the center. On the pallet was the nude, dried out corpse of the late Walter Corbett.
Taking it upon himself to examine the body, Dr. Harrison approached the pallet and kneeled, cane and doctor's bag at hand. The rest of the investigators fanned out, Bonnie going toward a table in the corner that seemed to have some documents on it.
As he kneeled over the long dead body, Dr. Harrison began to feel... dizzy. Shaking off the vertigo, he felt a flood of emotions: hate, suspicion, resentment. That thuggish professor was surely waiting for her chance to deal with him, wasn't she! A man of his position simply couldn't trust one of her kind. In fact, this would be a perfect opportunity to strike, wouldn't it?! He had to go on the offensive and quickly!
Dr. Harrison rose slowly, one hand on his sword cane. His noble features were contorted and red with rage! Breathing heavily, he shouted "JEWS!!!" through clenched teeth, pulling the rapier from his cane and hobbling almost drunkenly at Darla!
Though shocked, the professor easily dodged Dr. Harrison's clumsy assault.
"What the hell is wrong with him?!", shouted Bonny, running forward to restrain the older man.
"Uhtspwullyth'ghuhst!", replied Detective Merkle through a mouth stuffed with cotton.
Bonnie tore the cane from Dr. Harrison's hands as Prof. Donnawitz aimed a heavy punch to his nose. The Doctor was a bit more nimble than she expected, however, and managed to avoid the blow. While Bonnie held the cane, Donald was forced to resort to fisticuffs against his far stronger opponent.
While the melee continued between the temporarily irrational, anti-semitic doctor and the brawny professor, the corpse on the pallet coughed a cloud of dust into the air. All but the insensate doctor (who was focused completely on attacking our poor professor) gazed on in horror as the shrivelled corpse rose woodenly from the palette, its lips peeled back to make a wide rictus grin, lidless eyes like saucers.
"SHUHT!", shouted the detective, discharging his revolver. While the round caught Corbett just above the eye, it only managed to chip out a large chunk of the head. Aiming her sawed-off shotgun for the undead sorcerer's back, Bonnie also witnessed the fiend's unholy resilience. The stalwart Mr. Worgan sent a heavy roundhouse kick for Corbett's head, but the zombie blocked the kick with its forearm. Merkle backed out of the creature's reach just as it swung its long yellowed fingernails for his midsection. With his next shot, Ed managed to put a bullet through an eye at point blank range while his cousin peppered the monster with another salvo of buckshot. His sorceries failing him under such an assault, the late Mr. Corbett died once more.
Tired of his screaming invective and clumsy attacks, Professor Donnawitz finally landed a strong blow just as the domination effect ended, crumpling the doctor and breaking his nose.
When he came to, Dr. Harrison's memory of the incident was foggy at best. All he remembered was examining the corpse and then being struck in the face by that "brutish she-beast". While he was bewildered by the looks his colleagues gave him, he returned to the task of examining Mr. Corbett's body. Dr. Harrison ascertained that the man was dead a long time before he got up again and also found a curious black stone on a chain around his neck. While he held the stone, Donald was amazed to watch it crumble to dust! He felt a sudden surge of confidence and cosmic puissance enter his body.. perhaps enough to bolster his fragile psyche for the trials ahead? We shall understand soon enough, dear reader.
Bonnie turned once more to the crumbling papers on the table, but was disappointed to find what amounted to a horoscope even as the paper disintegrated in her hand.
Once Darla called her cousin to say their investigation was concluded, Mr. Horowitz spent a night in the house to make certain that it was safe before selling the property to Mr. Worgan. Finding the home safe once more, he thanked his cousin and the investigators profusely.
Detective Merkle knew that explaining exactly what happened at the Corbett House would likely result in some severe teasing to say the least of the competence evaluation he could expect. So he threw together a combination of rabies and mold as an explanation, backed up with testimony from Dr. Harrison.
Bonnie's story was finished just in time for Halloween and judging from the reader response, it was well received. Bonnie's editor decided to keep an eye out for future paranormal stories to give the Globe's finest girl reporter. Experimenting over the next month, Bonnie learned the spell Mr. Corbett wrote out in his journals those many years ago.. she now only required a circumstance where it could be used.
With the Corbett house satisfactorily cleared of its haunting, our investigators decided to take some time off to rest and recover. Dr. Harrison found himself a psychoanalyst and began attending sessions, while the rest of our investigators tended to their mundane affairs. One thing was certain, however: this wouldn't be their last brush with the supernatural.
Thanks, Mothman. I've got another completed investigation to write up and then we launch into Shadows of Yog-Sothoth this weekend. I'm interested to see how they fare on that one and how tough it will be to adjust to something as role playing intensive.
Update soon, first on the investigators' old friend Rupert Merriweather's last order of business and onto their attempts to infiltrate the Hermetic Order of the Silver Twilight.
Lesson learned: Never drop a suspected (and, unfortunately, later confirmed) pederast into an investigation unless the Keeper is looking for that to become the investigation. I can't really blame my upstanding investigators for that one, though.
Really excited to see how your game unfolds. I'm going to run Haunting for some friends as a one shot next Saturday, then if they like it, I'm also planning to segue into Shadows of Yog-Sothoth! I've never run CoC before (though I have played once) so, I'll definitely be keeping an eye out for pointers and paying attention to how you handle things.
Thanks! I've found so far that you need to be able to wing it a bit more for CoC since so
much is character driven. The handouts can really help and I'm going to try putting together two sets of index cards- one for me, one for my players- to keep track of NPCs and interactions, so they can keep everyone straight.
The Edge of Darkness, part 1
Late November, 1927
After the affairs at the Corbett House, our investigators settled back into their normal routines- Dr. Harrison ministering to his patients and seeing his psychoanalyst, Detective Merkle returning to his ever growing case load. Professor Donnawitz nurtured the passion for archaeology amongst her students (and bored some to tears discussing pottery) while Bonnie returned to more mundane cases and Melvin spent more of his time and money pursuing whatever interests tickled his fancy.
But our investigators were troubled by some distressing news from the old town of Arkham: Dr. Rupert Merriweather lay on his deathbed in St. Mary's Hospital. It was his urgent wish to see each of them the next day- Thursday afternoon at 1 pm. It must have been fate itself that drew them together at that old house, since each just happened to have the old academic in their circle of friends: Bonnie through her time at Miskatonic University, Prof. Donnawitz and Dr. Harrison through professional correspondence. Melvin Worgan made his acquaintance when he dedicated the Worgan Gymnasium on the university grounds and Detective Merkle had an unfortunate accident some years ago involving a stray pistol round and Merriweather's son Bertrand. The less said about that ugly bit of history, the better.
Bundling up against the late autumn chill, each investigator set off in their automobiles for the storied city of Arkham in the Miskatonic valley. Arriving at St. Mary's and Dr. Merriweather's third floor room, they were greeted by their ailing friend, his grieving wife Agnes and the unfortunately weasel-like and sneering son Bertrand. Hoping to lighten the mood, Detective Merkle sought to pull a fake-out on ol' Bert, reaching into his jacket before revealing an empty hand ready for a handshake. No one was amused, his cousin Bonnie giving him an elbow in the ribs to drive the point home. Rupert dismissed his family to speak privately to the assembled investigators.
Merriweather revealed that during his youth he was part of a “mystic brotherhood”- he and a few friends, lead by an older man named Marion Allen, would hold seances and small experiments in the occult. Jokingly calling themselves the “Dark Brotherhood”, they purchased an old farmhouse in nearby Ross's Corners to carry out their experiments in privacy. Though they mostly just dabbled in harmless and fraudulent procedures they did manage to summon an entity of malign intent on their last meeting. Too frightened to dispel the thing, they trusted the wards placed by Marion Allen to hold the spirit in place- and thus far it has these many years. But the spell only lasts so long as one of the casters remains alive: Rupert Merriweather is the last. Having heard of their work on the Corbett House, Merriweather implored the investigators to banish the horrible thing.
He gestured to a small metal box beside his bed. “Take the box,”he croaked,”All the aid I can offer you lies within. You must find a way to send that thing back to where it came from. You must see that this is done. Do this for me.” As Dr. Harrison took possession of the box, Merriweather was rocked by a fit of spasms and cough, blood and tissue splattering from his mouth. Medical staff rushed into the room and our investigators excused themselves to see to their work (and to allow the good Doctor to change).
Taking the opportunity to look through the box, our heroes found a yellowed envelope with the deed to the house on Boone road in Ross's Corners (and a key), a small sarcophagus shaped gold box of ancient design and a slim leather bound journal. Turning the sarcophagus box around in her hands, Darla concluded that it was of the Middle Kingdom. She also translated the hieroglyphics on the outside, which read,” Seeker of Wisdom, Servant (or son) of Yugr (Yoag) Setheth, Deliverer of the people (slaves) of the water, Bearer of the spirits of Nar-Loth-hotep, child of Thoth, Seeker of Wisdom.” The inside of the sarcophagus proved empty, but inscriptions on the lid held the Professor's interest: though she didn't understand them, they were consistent with what was believed to be the language of the lost Pacific continent of Mu.
Bonnie began reading the journal, which was an account of the group's founding, Marion Allen's purchase of the sarcophagus, researches into De Vermiis Mysteriis and the horrible details of their last meeting- a successful summoning which cost two young men their lives. A list of Merriweather's fellows in the society and the time of their death was written on one page, a newspaper article detailing Allen's gruesome death in New Orleans following a year after the ceremony and their friend's last wish that the creature summoned those many years ago be banished back to wherever it came.
The investigators split up to conduct some initial research before heading to the farmhouse the next day. Prof. Donnawitz found references and drawings of the sarcophagus in MU library's Egyptian section- the box was said to have been the possession of the obscure Nophru-Ka, would be usurper to the Egyptian throne from some time in the XIVth Dynasty. Said to have been gifted to him by the gods and containing spirits that would serve Nophru-Ka, the text mentioned that it merely contained some unpolished amber trapping an insect.
Bonnie checked the Arkham Advertiser's archives at the library, finding articles corresponding to the “carriage accident” that Merriweather and the Brotherhood said killed their two friends. After looking through the catalog for De Vermiis Mysteriis, Ed and Dr. Harrison resolved to look at the tome in the rare and restricted books section. Securing a meeting with Dr. Armitage, the two found him completely resistant to allowing them to look through the book, citing that the volume was dangerous and barely understood. No amount of cajoling or persuasion (or the detective's badge) could get the doctor to budge, so the duo left empty handed.
The group left in the morning for Ross's Corners, driving the few miles west of town into the farmlands and woods of Massachusetts. The town consisted of no more than a few tired buildings and home, a church and combination gas station/general store/milk depot/post office. The Bostonians stopped to get better directions to the farmhouse, only to find that all of Ross's Corners citizens were tight-lipped, dour and suspicious. Bonnie could feel an undercurrent of fear that felt like more than just Yankee reticence. Ma Peters at the general store was more than happy, however, to talk to Melvin and Dr. Harrison however. She gave them clear directions to Dr. Merriweather's farmhouse (“Folks 'round here make it their business to know who owns what.”), noting that children around here said it was haunted. When pressed about the other townsfolk's reactions, Ma Peters confided that Mrs. McPhirter disappeared last night when she went out last night to check on the barn. “Any suspicious looks you mighta got today are on account of that. Folks are a little shy about strangers right now. Don't think nothin' of it.”
Detective Merkle resolved to take an interest in this missing farmer's wife and made it a point to drop in with Mr. McPhirter. The grieving farmer, upon seeing Ed's badge, consented to allow him to look around the property, glad to have more eyes looking for his missing wife. Around the barn, the detective's keen eyes found skuffs in the dirt consistent with something being dragged toward the nearby woods. The investigators followed the trail deep into the forest, heading generally north... in the direction of the Merriweather farmhouse. After about a mile or two of walking, checking the ground for marks, they found a ravine in view of the farmhouse. The shape of a person could be seen within, a woman lying face down. Ed motioned for everyone to stay back as he pulled on a pair of gloves and rolled the corpse over. Mrs. McPhirter lay there, her chest gnawed open and heart removed, broken ribs sticking out. Her face still contorted in agony. The investigators said a prayer for the poor woman and turned back toward the farmhouse.
“I suppose I'll go back for the car.”, remarked a winded Dr. Harrison.
The Edge of Darkness, part 2
The vehicle brought up to the farmhouse, our investigators made their entry into the property. An ancient house atop a hill, visible from the road and about a hundred yards east of it. The house was a simple structure of early 18th century saltbox design with a high peaked roof and windows sealed by sagging shutters, only two rooms and an attic, with a root cellar presumably below. Occult symbols were carved on the door frame and windows, presumably by Mr. Allen as Merriweather detailed in his journal.
The front room was dirty and long untouched, with dust laying thickly throughout. Dead leaves and detritus all over the floor, which was warped and water damaged. A faint odor hung thickly in the room, likely from the mouldering couch and wing chairs. A scuffling, scurrying sound was heard from under the floorboards, setting the investigators on edge. Wordlessly, Detective Merkle drew his revolver. They resolved to enter the back room, past a narrow opening with steep stairs into the root cellar and a trap door in the ceiling leading to the attic, the wooden frame covered in occult symbols. The back door was slightly ajar and the sleuths could find evidence of recent habitation around the large fireplace: dust kicked up, fresh footprints, embers of a fire not long dead. A thick new wool blanket was tossed beside the fireplace, an empty can of Campbell's pork and beans on the floor along with a bindle with various other belongings. Picking it up, the detective could see that the sauce in the can was still liquid.
“Hobo.”, they all said practically in unison.
On a high shelf, Bonnie found a cigar box of the kind her grandfather used to smoke, back in the 1880s. Within was a small metal canister of coarse, brownish powder and a small wooden box with a sliding lid holding a silvery talc-like substance, which left a slight residue on their fingers. A sheaf of yellowed paper- six copies of a chant in Latin and three other sheets were under the box. The extra sheets defined the chant as being from De Vermiis Mysteriis by Ludwig Prinn in 1542, notes about the book and how the chant “could be used to release the spirit trapped in amber”. Instructions on the chant were scrawled out on the last page: pentagram drawings to write, how many chanters are ideal and a specific compound of chemicals to burn in the fire.
While Dr. Harrison, Darla and Melvin pored over the ritual, Detective Merkle pulled back the hammer on his revolver.
“Be right back,”he said,”Gonna scare me up a hobo.”
His large frame thudding down the stairs, the detective spotted the wild-eyed, unshaven tramp moments before he swung a chair leg at Ed from his hiding place. Reacting quickly, the detective fired a shot into the hobo's leg. He dropped the chairleg and howled.
“Ahhhh! S~%~! My leg!! Please, let me go, I'm sorry.. I just... I just... I-I-I”, the man babbled and pleaded, some clarity returning to his eyes.
Ed hauled him to his feet and dragged him, cuffed, up the stairs.
While Dr. Harrison treated the gunshot wound, the other investigators grilled the tramp.
“Who are you? What were you doing here?”, began Bonnie.
“I-I'm R-red Jake. The- the place was empty, I thought I could spend a night or two. I didn't realize there was a-a THING up there! I-I just settled in and the place started to stink to high heaven and all these horrible noises started coming from the attic! I couldn't take it, so I ran, but this- whatever is UP there, it came after me! It almost got me, too, but it found... Oh, God, that poor woman! She screamed and screamed while it.... Auugh!”
The Doctor tried to calm the man down after what was surely a trying ordeal while Ed mulled over what to do with him. He figured it was almost a sure thing Jake would be blamed for the dead farm wife and he certainly couldn't stay here. The best bet, he figured was to just let him go. So the investigators sent the hobo off with his things.
Looking at what they had, the investigators figured out they would have to start the ceremony at midnight and go on for two hours, chanting in reverse to dispel the monster. Prinn suggested in the notes that a watcher be posted against “the sorcerers being disturbed by the nuisances and distractions of malevolent spirits.” Several chanters would be ideal, as well, so that at least one person could keep the chant going in case one needed a break.
“I guess I'm the watcher.”, said Detective Merkle,”I'll leave it to the eggheads to handle the mumbo-jumbo.”
“I can help you, Ed. I'll get my shottie.”, replied Bonnie, running out to the car.
“Like hell you can!”, Ed shouted, but he knew it was little use. These “modern” women...
“I can teach you the Latin,”said the Doctor, “But I've no idea which of these powders go into the fire. The journal said one was thrown into the fire, the other this “Powder of Ibn Ghazi” made the thing visible. But it doesn't say which is which...”
Lacking any knowledge of chemistry, the investigators decided to take their chances with the reddish-brown chemical compound. As they conversed, they could occasionally hear a knock from above in the attic. Then, a distinct snuffling sound and a hideous reek.
“Ugh. Perhaps... someone should look up there?”, suggested Dr. Harrison, turning toward the brawny Professor,”Someone big and strong that owes me a favor for clocking me?”
“I think it may be the wiser course of action to leave it be.”, interjected Melvin, before Darla could offer a stinging retort.
“Well, anyhow, this place smells awful. What say we go for a drive, go over these notes and return at around eleven?”, suggested the Doctor. Everyone agreed and piled into his car, Det. Merkle taking the driver's seat. With evening well under way, they drove through the country roads, the empty farmland a barren reflection of the moon above, skeletal trees swaying in the chill autumn wind.
It was Darla who first noticed out the window that something was turning the treetops against the wind.
“Huh, that's reall- AHHH!”, she screamed, as something hit the vehicle from above. The car swerved left and right as Ed fought for control against whatever was bearing down on the roof. It had the horrible reek of the thing that was in the attic and the investigators could hear the same distinct snuffling sound. With the car out of control, the towncar swerved off the road, blowing a tire in the process. Detective Merkle discharge his firearm into the ceiling of the car, seeking to wound whatever was up there, but merely punching a hole into the doctor's vehicle.
“HEY!”, shouted Dr. Harrison.
“WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO, GENIUS?! YOU THINK OF SOMETHING!”
Sitting very still, the investigators held their breath. Suddenly.. the smell started to recede.
“Who's changing the tire?”, asked Bonnie while Darla stared out the window, catching a glimpse of a thing like a heat shimmer twisting through the night.
Melvin sighed. “I supposed I can do it the quickest. You know, I did drive in races for a time.”
Taking tentative steps out of the car, one eye on the night sky, the diminutive millionaire started to replace the wheel. In his panic, he nearly lost a bolt, costing him seconds more in the open. Every nightbird's call was like an icy caress on our hero's spine until he finally got the wheel changed and jumped back into the car. Merkle hit the gas, and they headed back to the farmhouse just in time to start their preparations.
The Edge of Darkness, part 1
Late November, 1927
After the affairs at the Corbett House, our investigators settled back into their normal routines- Dr. Harrison ministering to his patients and seeing his psychoanalyst, Detective Merkle returning to his ever growing case load. Professor Donnawitz nurtured the passion for archaeology amongst her students (and bored some to tears discussing pottery) while Bonnie returned to more mundane cases and Melvin spent more of his time and money pursuing whatever interests tickled his fancy.
Common acquaintance, eh ? Fate or coincidence...
Nice start so far, how is their SAN ?
So far they've had some close calls- at the conclusion of this one for instance, Dr. Harrison almost lost it. He's actually the closest to losing sanity, since he has a low POW and insists on researching Mythos tomes. Everyone else is going fairly strong, but they haven't really faced the full brunt of the Mythos yet, just a few zombies here and there and a lot of strange rituals and moldering books. Only really one temporary insanity instance for the doctor and Melvin after last night's session, though Darla and Bonnie got seriously messed up physically during the fight with Max Reed in Shadows of Yog-Sothoth. If he doesn't get shot with an elephant gun, injected with space plague or fed to a Shoggoth, my money's on Detective Merkle surviving due to his very high SAN score.
And now it seems that 2 out of 5 want to keep doing CoC, 2 out of 5 want to return to our comfort zone with Pathfinder, haven't heard from 1 on how she feels about it. Hmm. So this may end up derailing without anyone ever going permanently insane.
And now it seems that 2 out of 5 want to keep doing CoC, 2 out of 5 want to return to our comfort zone with Pathfinder, haven't heard from 1 on how she feels about it. Hmm. So this may end up derailing without anyone ever going permanently insane.
Would be a pity. They haven't got close to the true spirit of CoC yet (that is, horror, as in "fear of the unknown", by opposition to terror, which is "fear of what you can see"). The only taste of hooror they got is the... thing... landing on their car's roof.
Or maybe it was enough? :)
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And now it seems that 2 out of 5 want to keep doing CoC, 2 out of 5 want to return to our comfort zone with Pathfinder, haven't heard from 1 on how she feels about it. Hmm. So this may end up derailing without anyone ever going permanently insane.
One of my current groups switches games up. You might want to try it. We will run a Cthulhu game maybe even a chapter in a campaign and then return to a Pathfinder AP. We also substitute in board games and one shots when someone cant make a game or just get tired of the same old. We of course play for about 3 1/2 hours a week so its often and like I said the group is designed to keep going if someone has to miss out a week or two.
That's a good suggestion, Pan. I think I'll float the idea to my group. Thanks!