Ken (GM): woop woop
alrighty!
so we have you all here then; I have your sheets you made in October; Nick the military aficionado/PPA, Annette the nascent witch/Joush
P.P.A.: Mine says last changed on 22.10.2017, so I probably haven’t touched it since
Joush M.: Nice word
Ken (GM):Kev, you were just gonna LURK and check this out today?
Kev.:Yup. No way I’ll be able to make a proper char and charsheet atm.
Ken (GM):Ah, I understand that feeling
Oh shit, Joush you also had Grayson, right? As an alternate?
Joush M.:OH yeah! I also made Grayson
Ken (GM):The Not!Michael paladin feller?
Joush M.: Indeed. I’m proud of that one. It’s hard to get ST 18 into 150 points
P.P.A.: Anthro-Grey
Ken (GM):very much so. right, so, setting the scene
Ken (GM) Montreal lies frozen on river, a white and black shimmering jewel of old stone edifices, modern skyscrapers, and the grime of a million souls huddled together
The city sits frozen in winter, and gripped by terror as well. Savage murders have taken their toll on the city of late. Mutilated victims found by the police, shredded beyond recognition. Many of them have been vagabonds or derelicts, transients who could have fallen to foul play. Brazen headlines however have the city witnessing the terror firsthand though. Who will fall victim next? What innocent will become a red smear tomorrow? Your neighbor? Your friend? YOU?!
Darkness is not the only power here though; glimmers of hope kindled in the flame of those who bear the light. Flames of righteous fury, illumination of spirit, holy souls. Powerful people of the Ways of Magic. They also gather here, drawn to oppose the monsters that go BUMP in the night.
Some of you are such people. Though you may not even know it yet, yourselves
Joush M.: Annette confronts the grim news with a sort of rebellious determination to Do Something About It, the young student tying back her hair and filling a notebook with details on moon phases and everything she’s been able to find out about creatures that tear victims apart, seemingly at random, and the murders they’ve faced. Grayson does much the same when he isn’t working to restore an old and battered church in a bad part of town. The old man pinning what he’s found to a wall, a map with red pinheads marking out the details and locations he’s been able to discover. Paper tags of misery and mystery.
Fiss: Maurice LeBlanc… ‘Maury’ to his friends… wanders through the clubs and streets of Montreal, seeking out the frustrated and the rebellious as a moth to a flame. Some who know him well enough see him as perhaps a revolutionary working the streets, but in reality, he needs the ebb and flow of the subtle chaos as much as most people need water.
P.P.A.:“It’s fuckin’ cold here,” Nick complains to himself, barely annoyed enough to curb his unfounded enthusiasm. He picks up his duffel bag and slings it over his shoulder; behind him, the bus closes its doors and drives off into the skyline. The sturdy young man scratches his stubble and takes a glance at the map at the bus stop, but trusts that the driver’s directions to his hotel will do.
The city is chilled to the bone and as welcoming as a frozen hearth, but fierce souls are warmed by conviction. Annette finds many trend on the moon and the reports of violence; it almost seems to be an ebb and flow, a tide of savagery coming and going from the city these days. Grayson’s pins spell out a red splatter on the map, the riverside being a popular destination for this devilry. Maurice is well fed recently; fear and suspicion twisting into good old fashioned hate and violence. A full belly on any night of the week. Nick’s hostel is as cheap and anonymous as he needs; the rates have dropped in the winter, and the violence has only driven out the huddled masses from the public eye. His trip to the great white North should be fruitful
Joush M.:Annette scribbles out “werewolf?” in the margins of the book and nibbles her lower lip.. certainly no human could do this.
P.P.A.:Nick dumps his bag on the bed, and scatters a few belongings about the room. No time to make himself at home, that can wait ’till the evening or so—there are adventures to be had after all. For the time being, he just needs to dig out his down jacket—turns out it is needed after all—and maybe comb his sideburns, and then it’s time to explore this northerly land of leaves on flags and—potentially—liches.
Ken (GM):dun dun dunnn
Anne writes down everything Tanya told her then squares her slender shoulders, pulls on a heavy parka and dares to venture out near the waterfront to examine the scenes in person. Perhaps up close she will be able to feel some kind of magic lingering. Anne keeps a field hockey stick in a padded case with her as she goes hunting. No reason to be foolish… of course, she also has her Ring.
Ken (GM):[and of course “Im on my way to practice” is always a nice excuse to be out and about if anyone wonders]
The icy air dances with sparkling crystals of ice, as steam from the waterfront rises in the evening air; moonlight glimmers and the gibbous yellow bleaches out to a pale white in the icy streets of Montreal. Lampposts push out their sickly light by comparison, leaving pale holes in the dark. The sounds of the city are nearly gone, echoing weakly through the old stone of the old downtown, smothered by heaps of snow.
Each of you meanders in the dark, hunting, but you know not for what; the mystery itself compelling your bootsteps, heavy or light. Eventually, these strides take you down a darkened alley, squeezed between warehouse backs and far from public prying eyes.
Anne: Faux fur frames her pale features as the witchy girl stares at the crime scene. Her breath a roll of fog before her lips as she tightens the scarf around her slender throat and takes a tentative step closer on black boots laced up high, warm stockings on under them and a frown on her lips. Her eyes are shadowed and lined dramatically.
Ken (GM):[map magic, test your token control for me?]
Fiss:Can’t move mine
Anne finishes her calibration
Ken (GM):[fixed?]
Fiss:Looks good!
Maurice wanders through the alley, looking like perhaps a lost dockworker with a little too much whiskey in him, or maybe just a bum who’s seen a good day of panhandling and is looking for a safe place to rest. Sometimes its an act, tonight, he’s a little tipsy to keep out the chill.
Nick stands six foot one tall; his frame is muscular, but not extraordinarily so. Lean, wiry. Blue eyes peer from an angular face, though at nothing in particular, or perhaps at what could be and not at what is. His hands are in his pockets—he forgot to bring gloves—and a rosary hangs from his neck unseen underneath his dark green jacket. Though not exactly conventionally inviting, the moody dark street excites him with its promise of mystery.
Ken (GM):[silly southern folk; not bringing nice mittens :P]
Nick: Were it not for his unorthodox facial hair, he would look like an average bloke on his way home, though.
Anne speaks to Nick in a careful tone, the girl watching him a moment and calling out in accented English. “Pardon, monsieur. Do you walk often in this alley-way?”
Nick: “Good evening, mademoy—” He stops halfway through trying to pronounce it. “…Miss. Sorry to disappoint, just arrived here today.” He studies her briefly. “Anything ’bout this alley? I heard there’s been some unpleasant stuff happening ’round these parts..”
Maurice laughs, seemingly a bit drunk “Lots of unpleasant things happening in the night these days…” Maurice sits against a relatively dry wooden box and looks up in appreciation at the night sky, starless or moonless as it is
Ken (GM) the gibbous moon glimmers on Maurice, dancing some sparkling light off him to remind him it is there 😛
P.P.A.:(so long as it doesn’t turn green)
Ken (GM):[crosspost gaming intensifies]
Anne: “It…” She considers a moment, the girl wondering if she should be coy then looking past him to Maurice, looking to the man’s sad face a moment then speaking. “It was the site of an attack. A very vicious attack. We should all be very careful, non?”
At the mention of it, you do notice here in the icy alleyway, a tattered and frozen bit of yellow police-tape on one of the warehouse back walls, over an old thick wooden door…Odd….why hadn’t that been obvious before?
Nick puffs his chest and takes his hands out of his pockets to punch one with the other. “Hah, bring it.”
Nick notices the police tape. “This is one of the crime scenes here?” he points to it with his thumb before rubbing his hands and putting them back into his pockets. The night is damn chilly.
Maurice tries to ignore the two for a moment, but curiosity gets the better of him. Maurice saunters over
Anne frowns a touch at Nick’s bravado. the girl worrying a little then nodding in agreement, her hand touching the notebook in the pocket of her parka then taking it out, flipping to a marked page. “Oui, It is” She reads what she has written down for this particular location, eyes flicking from the notebook to the tape.. then out of the corner of her eye watching Maurice approach.
(To Anne): The address matches; one of the first found bodies. Apparently the police are not yet giving much detail other than “a local business storage warehouse employee discovered a victim, [unnamed man], possibly homeless as he had no identification on his remains”
Nick glances at Maurice, but doesn’t pay him more attention than is polite: “Good evening.” The girl caught his interest though. “Looks like you’re into this stuff,” he notes with a satisfied smile. Nodding to the notebook, the studying “So what’s this about vampires? Is there anything to that, like anything that actually supports that, or just some dumb rumors?”
Maurice laughs at the mention of vampires “Oh, surely you kids don’t believe in such things…plenty of less fictional monsters out here in the night! I just left a pub where a man gouged out the eye of another because they had a disagreement…as far as I could tell…on the new bridge construction project over the river.” He ponders “A lot of whiskey was involved, but surely, that’s not a Vampire, in strictest sense.”
Nick turns to the man: “Men can be fuckin’ cruel, but you’d think people know that. It’s not like this’d be the first serial killer the continent would have seen, either, so where does this vampire talk come from?”
Anne: “The scene itself is inside.” She says, closing the notebook.. there’s little more information in there, her hand tucking the book away. “Oui.. Vampires are dangerous.. but they do not kill like this. They drink the blood. These bodies, they are ripped apart?” She asks as she walks closer to the tape, looking at the warehouse and rubbing a finger across her ring with a thoughtful frown. “I do believe in vampires, monsieur. I just hope they do not believe in moi.”
Maurice laughs again, though it’s not a mean one, more appreciative. “Oui, we should all be so lucky.”
(To Anne): The tape crinkles and flakes of ice fall as you touch the door, sealed feebly with tape. There is a warm draft from under the door, and some mist crawls up in tendrils
(To Anne): You also notice, the wall is old construction; big blocks of stone, a heritage building like your school. The big oak door is bound in iron…What kind of ‘warehouse’ is this?
Maurice leans against the wall, but as far as socially acceptable for a strange man to follow two other strange people. He keeps a curious eye open on their doings.
Nick: “Not sure if they’re real, but if they are, they better believe I’m coming for them,” Nick bolsters, and laughs confidently. He walks over to the warehouse to take a closer look.
P.P.A.:*boasts, not bolsters
>that feel when ESL
Ken (GM):[shuns in native english :P]
Anne: “This door.. this building. All is old. Stone and oak and iron.” She studies it, hand reaching out but not touching it directly as the witch considers the place, glancing to the men again a little carefully then stepping back. Allowing Nick his turn to examine the eerie iron bound portal. “I think.. I shall risk a look inside.”
(To Nick): You also notice, the wall is old construction; big block of stone, a heritage building like old European foundations. The big oak door is bound in iron…What kind of warehouse is this?
Nick: “Let’s, then.” Nick steps forward and reaches for the handle, checking whether the door opens. “Nice house, looks European,” he notes, briefly looking up before his attention returns to the door.
(From Maurice): nothing weird about this area that I’d know from being all Spoopy, is there?
(To Maurice): You’ve certainly been feeding well down here…the alleyway isn’t throwing you any weird vibes in particular.
(From Maurice): okey
Nick halts: “Ah wait, isn’t this supposed to be a warehouse? Whatever.” A shrug, and he pushes down the handle.
Ken (GM) The young man confidently pulls on the latch handle of the door, and lets it squeak open, inwards to a cloud of warm steamy air. Directly inside, is another door. Like the shortest hallway you’ve ever been in
Nick: “Huh, what do you know.”
Maurice: “Ahh, an old speakeasy door?” He saunters up, curiosity reignited
Nick: “Are all old houses like that here?” He turns around to ask the two people behind him.
Anne: “The city is old. Secure goods warehouses for transportation of precious material were build like petite fortresses.” She says as she looks past Nick. “No threshold, but many doors..” She almost risks looking at the place with her Sight. “We never prohibited the sale of alcohol, monsieur”
Maurice: “One doesn’t need prohibition to have the need for classy, sneaky doors.”
Nick: “Well then, prost!” He tries to open the next door.
The inner door is crusted with a hoar-frost. Misty air building up in spiky protrusions of light white, riming the inside, rimed over every metal edge and bolt. Warmth here, the icy air around you swirling against the heated inside. A smell like eggs and fish permeates. Somewhat rotten and fragrant. Moist
POP CREAK Nick pushes inside, the next door also unlocked, and a wave of warmer even more fetid air escapes around him, mist in the alleyway; he disappears from sight for a moment in the fog.
(To Nick): Youre blasted with hot wet air, and the STINK of the place. like the sewer boiled and served a week later
Ken (GM):NICK perception roll!
Nick:“Fuck, what a stench.”
11v10
Maurice turns to the young woman next to him and shrugs. “Age before beauty, or chivalry first? Your choice.”
Anne nearly sneezes at the scent. “Humm..”
What a stench indeed; the combined smell of age, rot, and sewer stewing in the night air. The mist subsides, and a warm breeze wafts out. Nick standing on the edge of darkness, illuminated only from moonlight behind.
The large room sounds large, but is utterly dark, you cannot see its borders
Nick takes a step back outside the door to take a deep breath before he dives back in for real.
Maurice:”Age it is then!” Maurice walks inside
Ken (GM):Maurice! Perception!
Maurice: rolling 3d6(6+5+2) = 13
Maurice: Fail, even with his eyes accustomed to the Night.
Maurice ponders fumbling for his flashlight
(To Maurice): You feel a tingle on the back of your neck, like something is out prowling to eat you up. It takes a second for you to realize you’re feeling something very evil about this place. You’re trespassing, somehow
Maurice looks around for the big man
Ken (GM) the light flicks on eventually, and a beam of electric yellow cuts through steam and swamp.
Anne reaches into a pocket of her parka and takes out a black plastic tube, pulling something out from inside.. another thinner, odd green plastic tube. She bends it until there’s a faint broken glass crunch, then shakes it a moment and holds it up as it starts to cast an eldritch lime green glow
Nick grabs a hold of his matchbox, but relents and lets go again. Doesn’t wanna blow up the place by accident, who knows what these gases are.
You’re in a big stone chamber of some kind, with a recessed floor, and a hatch….with a weird stain
Maurice: “Ahh, perhaps we should leave…best not get a head bashed in by some dockworker thinking we’re thieves.”
Ken (GM) Anne’s witchlight glows through the flickering lamplight, and together the room is cast in stark colors.
Maurice ‘s voice trails off as the lights flicker
Ken (GM):Anne! Perception!
Anne: rolling 3d6 vs 13(6+6+5)=17
Maurice:[lol]
(To Anne): Youve got a tingle, but you have absolutely no idea why
Maurice turns to the woman and blinks
Maurice: “Did you turn on the lights?”
Nick: “Much better, thanks.”
(To Anne): Also, chemlights, nice touch. Cant magic-kill those by accident 😛
Anne shakes her head. “Glo-stick.” She says helpfully, holding the odd glowing liquid in it’s plastic container and block letter GLO branding. She looks around with a frown, shivering. “Some thing is here.” The warning ominous, but unfocused. She can’t figure out why she feels nervous as she comes closer to the stains. “Drag marks?”
The ceiling is a patchwork of a hundred years of rusted old pipe, ductwork and unfathomable machinery. Large pipes of cast iron, modern aluminum, and everything in-between mingles up there. The steam and smell come from large vents pointed down into the room here. The floor is wet with condensation moisture, and is extremely slimy
Maurice:”Well, it ain’t Maple Syrup, that’s for sure.”
Ken (GM):[BADUMTISS]
Maurice:[Fiss high-fives himself for getting Maple Syrup into first session about Montreal]
Ken (GM):[all we need now is a 40 of malt liquor and some poutine]
Nick: “I’ll take your word for that,” the American chuckles. He looks around, inspecting the odd ceiling and the stain; and finally squatting down to see if the hatch opens.
Anne walks carefully on the slick floor and looks. “Dragged from the hatch or into it?”
The hatch CLUNKs as Nick pulls, refusing to lift more than an inch. Something has it locked from the other side? Sounds like chains of some kind. The old wood is wet and squeaky
Maurice investigates the green splatter, trying to make sense of it
The stain is awash in odd colors, stark against the dull slimy floor. There is a dark red turned brown which is unmistakably blood. But there is also some kind of crusty white and green….
Maurice thinks it’s best not to touch
(To Maurice): The tingle here is worse….You feel a tangible sense of malice from the stain for a moment. Like…furious rage? But there is nobody there!
Nick: “Kinda odd, isn’t it; you’d think the police would have combed this place, but the hatch won’t budge while the doors were unlocked.” Nick straightens himself up again and looks around for other clues. The interior looks different from what the outside suggested—perhaps there are hidden rooms here?
Maurice: “Someone got a real mad-on here…” Maurice looks around for buttons, levers, chains, anything along the walls
Anne:”Very odd” She agrees as she takes a camera from her bag. Lifting it and a POP-flash! filling the room a moment, catching the odd stains and eerie green and white. Something to consider later. She gets another picture, more of the room, then puts the camera away… she’d been careful to avoid capturing either man in the photographs, as if they might dislike any evidence they were here.
CLICK WIND WIND CLICK the mechanical workings echo here easily, bouncing off the stone.
Maurice jumps a bit at the sound, but laughs and nods.
The walls of stone are cut blocks, mortared smoothly and tight, wet with age and worn with moisture. Rusty stains crawling down them to the floor. You poke around, prodding at the pipe-fixtures and crevices. And eventually turn up something odd!
Maurice looks at the odd something!
Nick:“Aha!”
Tucked behind a pipe, a book falls loose from a small alcove in the stone behind a trunk of metal; the tome slaps to the wet stone, leatherbound and marked with bright red. A crimson spiral on the cover, ragged and rough cut. The leather book looks scaly, the pages thick like ancient vellum.
Nick: “What the…” Puzzled by the unexpected book, Nick hesitates a moment to pick it up; he looks into the alcove first, wondering if there might anything else there.
Maurice grins like a kid in a candy store, pulling it free to take a look
Anne: “Monsieur?” She ask Nick, looking over to him with some concern as if there may be danger inherent to what he’s doing as he explores the pipes and stones. The slender witch putting away the camera and looking to him, then carrying her small light closer. “What is this?”
Maurice:[oops, sorry, not sure who’s finding what]
Ken (GM):Nick! roll DX for me!
Nick: 9v11
Ken (GM) Nick tucks his hand in the alcove, and immediately hisses in surprise! He snatches his hand back as a massive snake head snaps for him, reaches out of the hole behind the pipe! Nick narrowly escaped the snatching bite!
Nick: “Whoa! Should’a sent St. Patrick through this den.”
Nick backs away carefully, holding out his arms to motion the others to gain some distance too.
Ken (GM) meanwhile Maurice picks up the book…
(To Maurice): and you, Roll Will please
Maurice:(To GM) rolling 3d6 vs 13 (1+3+3)= 7
(From Maurice): yep, I’m rad
(From Maurice): beat by 5
(From Maurice): no, 6
(To Maurice): when the book is in your hands, you immediately know it is magic. The tingle turns into a wash of cold though, like icy flesh of predators and unthinking hunting malice. You’re pretty sure you know what its like to hunt by moonlight for scaled things in a swamp….but how?
Maurice backs away but begins looking over the book with fierce interest.
Anne makes a shocked sound at that, stareing at the snake and lifting her hand reflexivly.
The snake slithers out of the hole to the floor, FWUMP and coils in a lazy lump, the biting strike seemingly forgotten….
Maurice:”I don’t know if either of you believe in hockus-pocus, but I think I got somethin kinda cool here.” quietly “Not particularly good…but definitely something interesting”
Anne: “Careful! The snake is quite unhappy to have the den it picked prodded.” Her eyes cast around. Looking for other snakes, for other places one might wait. She goes carefully around, stepping over the nasty stain to avoid coming close to the serpent. She does lower her hand though.
Nick keeps his distance from the snake, and an eye on it, but leaves it alone.
Nick pulls Maurice a step back from the snake but lets him keep reading.
Maurice skims through the book.
(From Maurice): I have Occult and Secret Knowledge form the White Court, anything I should try to roll for?
(From Maurice): or just like: “YO DAWG CHECK IT THIS IS OUR EVIL MANUAL”
(To Maurice): Youre versed in the ways…and this shit is entirely unfamiliar to you.
Nick: “That reminds me, where are my manners? I’m Nick Ferencz, but you can call me Niklos. Nice to meet ya.”
Maurice smiles brightly at the man
Maurice: “Maury. Maury LeBlanc. Anyone good enough to break-and-enter with me is a friend indeed.”
Maurice offers the book to the two “I can’t make much sense of this…but brace yourself before you try touching it. It’s got some bad ju-ju”
Nick:“Haha, yeah.” Nick peers inside the book, curious but also a bit uneasy.
Maurice holds it open so touching it is optional
The snake keeps its head swiveled at you , but lets you pass unmolested as you’re keeping your distances….
The snake coils itself in a corner of the floor, a lump of flesh
Maurice: “Good Nope-Rope, you just hang out there.”
Maurice:”Seriously, don’t touch it unless you’re ready to feel the creepy crawleys up your spine.”
Nick doesn’t touch it, just looks.
Anne: “Annette DuClair” She introduces herself with a curtsy before leaning in to read the book that Maurice holds, avoid touching it to keep from perhaps giving the wicked artifact a chance at a Practitioner. “Dark resonance remaining from wicked use?”
The page held open is to some kind of writing, but its entirely foreign. Snips and phrases scrawled in a kind of charcoal black are in old world english, but the main body of text is in a dark red stain, the characters swirling and jagged simultaneously. Like someone stabbed them onto the page
(To Anne): You see what you might recognize as magic ritual symbols.
Maurice: “You look a might more professional than the kids who hang around the incense store on 3rd Ontario Street….I assume you study this kinda stuff for a bit more than fun?”
(To Nick): You recognize snippits in Latin; “forbidden” “do not attempt this” “profane in the utmost”
Nick raises an eyebrow. “Looks to be some kinda occult thing.”
Maurice nods to Nick
Anne: “It is a book of shadows. Enciphered to defeat another’s reading or simply too arcane to recognize beyond… but it feels…” She frowns at the book, drawing back. “Oui. Anette is a Witch.. and that book, I believe, is Evil. I cannot tell more without using magic on it.”
Nick: “Well at least the author had the wisdom to tell people not do meddle with that hocus-pocus.”
Maurice: “Oh, it’s got more than bad ju-ju, but I’m afraid it’s a bit beyond me and my hours of sleeping next to the Boutique Esoterique for some of the spring time.”
Nick: “A witch, huh?” He sounds displeased. “Don’t witches form pacts with demons and stuff? That’s not something you should do.”
(To Maurice): You recognize; this is bound in some kinda reptile leather. Maybe gator? its scaled like it
Maurice ponders the skin cover
Maurice: “Mmm, aligator? Snake? Whoever made it had access to some interesting game.”
Maurice rolls his eyes at Nick “Don’t interrupt the lass…if she starts summoning demons then you can worry. I probably summon worse every night when I snore.”
Anne looks to be perhaps fifteen or sixteen, and thanks to being a Wizard can look forward to looking like that for the next twenty years or so. The slender blonde giving a grumpy little huff as she glowers to Nick. “Non. Witches practice witchraft. Witchcraft can do evil, but our Rules require we do not.”
(To Anne): You have had a visit from the wardens then, and the ominous “talk” about the laws of magic huh?
(To GM): Only the Mother Superior still strikes fear into Anne
Maurice looks between the two, satisfied at Anne’s explanation. “Good enough for me.”
Maurice no longer seems drunk at all, btw
(To Maurice): Sounds like your witch here has spoken with wardens of the council before. And she’s not dead! so they haven’t killed her. Neat
(From Maurice): yep, that’s a good thing. 😛
Maurice: “So, anyone for further spelunking? Or should we wuss out and call the cops?”
Nick looks unconvinced, but won’t dwell on it, and gives Anne a jovial pat on the back. “Well, you’re lucky I’m Catholic; burning witches is more of a Protestant thing,” he jokes—and immediately turns serious again: “We should totally burn this thing though. Nothing good could come from that.” He points at the book.
Anne:”It would take perhaps an hour for me to study the book with Ansuz… but I worry. Stealing or destroying a book of shadows from an evil witch… not at all like me…” She assures Nick and Maurice. “It is to declare war on them.”
Maurice looks over at the hatch “I’d rather know who it is I’m declaring war on before burning their stuff…”
Maurice flips the pages of the book idly in his hands, and when nick suggests destroying it, pulls it close to his chest in a hug
[At this point, the GM has pulled a fast one, and emoted as the player. He cottons on immediately, but is a fair shake at letting the spooky stuff slide in to play -Ken,GM]
(From Maurice): ho ho ho
(To Maurice): Yep; its like watching yourself from a distance, your hands move automatically…
Anne looks at the door. “I fear we must continue. The police have already been here and declined to press deeper.”
Nick: 9v12 Overconfidence Self Control
Nick:“M’kay, we’ll burn it after we’ve talked some sense into the owner,” Nick relents.
Maurice ponders openly “Maybe, if this door is locked…the book could open something?” Maurice looks it over carefully
Nick:“Some magic phrase in it, like ‘sesame open’?” Nick takes another look at the hatch.
(To Nick): The hatch remains a heavy wooden door, wide enough to squeeze through, with a well mortared frame set into the flagged stone floor. Iron bands cross it, with knobbed nails wet and rusty. It rises about an inch in the frame, but offers no gap wider than half a finger. It is warm and wet to the touch
Anne looks at the snake, wondering if it’s a familair to the book’s owner and thinking troubled thoughts before she lifts her hand, palm out and pointed at the door. “This is not the sort of magic Anne performs. She could burn the hatch to ashes, oui?”
Nick gets up and smells the air again. “Not sure if the gases here might be flammable, you might wanna be careful with fire.”
(To Nick): also, yeah, farty smell from below when you pull on the door
Ken (GM):Maurice! Occultism roll!
Maurice:rolling 3d6 vs 10 (4+2+3) = 9
Beat by 1!
Anne:”Oui. It would be a shame if this witch was to burn you, non?”
Maurice flips through the pages, slowly turning them and scanning each in the light of a flashlight. He scowls, grins and purses his lips at several different moments
Nick laughs. “That’d be some irony. But yeah, it smells pretty bad down there, I wouldn’t start a fire here.”
Nick:“You okay there Maury?”
Maurice remains steeped in the thick pages of the book, and half-heartedly waves away your question.
Anne: “Shall we attempt leverage then?” She ask. Declining Craft for the moment she instead unzips the carry case and draws out the long sturdy field hockey stick, holding it and considering how to lever the hatch open. Nick’s question has her eyes on the odd man. “The book.. it may be best not to read it so deeply, Monsieur”
Maurice shakes his head and nods
(To Maurice): You dont remember the last few minutes…other than you havent found anything in the book but gibberish
Maurice: “I can scrounge around outside for a lever.”
Anne gestures to the maze of pipes. “Perhaps one of these?”
Maurice nods
Nick: “Sure, let’s try that.” He gets up and looks around for any loose pipes, checking for snakes first, though.
Maurice: “Just make sure it’s not hot…last thing we need is steam or hot water spraying all over here.
Anne taps the pipes with her hockey stick. Testing for one that sounds hollow and empty.
Maurice: “Ahh, a Hockey Witch… only in Montreal. Will the wonders of this city never cease?”
You poke and prod for a few minutes, and eventually settle on a short rod of rebar that comes free easily enough by hand. It’s bent in a curved shape, but is a tough piece of metal you can wedge the end of into the gap in the grate
Nick: “Here we go!” Nick pries the hatch open as best as he can and jams the rod inside, and then applies plenty of force.
P.P.A.: no innuendos intended
Ken (GM):>leverage intensifies
Nick! Roll ST+4 please
Maurice catches his tongue before saying an off-coloured joke in front of jail-bait
Nick: 11v16
Anne blinks and blushes a little at the joke, looking to him from the corner of her eye and huffing a bit… but does smile a touch. Glad to find the right tool for the job, she stands back and lets Nick handle the prying.
The bar is applied to the edge of the door, and Nick throws his weight against it. His boots slide a moment in the muck before the whole thing comes loose, the door itself pressing down into the frame of the floor, breaking up like a wet rotten thing. There is a SNAP and it collapses on itself, a gaping hole opening in the floor in the shape of wet rotten wood. You hear the mess tumble to the floor below, banging against stone and clattering loudly
Anne: “Well done, Monsieur.” Anne says to the man. She then takes the glowstick, considering just a moment then dropping it into the darkness.
Ken (GM) the glow of the chemlight falls quickly to the bottom some ten feet down. A rough tunnel twists back and forth on itself to a room below. The rough stone and earth wet with mildew and mold
Maurice pulls out a flashlight and turns it on, shrugging now that all sense of stealth is gone
The hole below the floor looks dug, not constructed. Like the hatch was set on top of a burrow
Maurice: “I’ll go first, unless anyone else is feeling more curious than I am, haha”
Nick: “I don’t suppose anyone brought a rope-ladder or somesuch?”
Maurice checks the side of the hole for handholds
Anne: “Into the den of the wolf? Please, Monsieur, lead the way”
Nick: “I can go first too, otherwise.” He’s willing to plunge himself into the unknown, but it seems Maurice is more eager too, so whatever.
Anne considers the distance. “One lies beside the hole and helps the other hang down to drop, the one that drops catches the others?”
Nick: “Good idea.”
Maurice: “We’ll look for a crate of grappling hooks some other time” He smiles
Anne nods. “We do things like this at school. To get over walls. Teamwork makes a ten foot wall easy.”
Maurice takes off his backpack, but keeps on his coat
You help each other down, hands grasping to wet warm stone and moldy earth. There are surprisingly many hand and footholds on the way down, and the only worry being a 6 foot drop at the end to the floor, but your technique removes any danger there
Ken (GM):[map magic!]
Maurice: “I’ll leave this here. Remind me to come back for it before demons eat my nice goose-feather sleeping bag, right?”
Anne has the easy part… getting passed down from Nick’s hands to Maurice, trusting the men to be gentlemen about it as she drops down into the darkness with them, picking back up the chemlight to hold it up in the dimness.
Maurice carefully turns back on flashlight, aiming low and sweeping around to find their surroundings before flashing it deeper into the dark
You appear to be in some sort of natural cavern, some scant ten feet under the streets of Montreal. The walls are wet natural stone. No sewer masonry, no blocks of clay.
Maurice while trying to hide the excitement in his voice “Oh, Montreal, I barely knew you, and you’re showing me all your secret bits…”
Exploring a bit with your lights, there is a metal grill gate ahead, with no door, only bars bent into a hole…jagged and broken
Nick: “Not leaving a good impression on my first day here, I must say; I might have to take it up with my travel agent,” Nick jokes.
Maurice: “Oh, nonsense! Adventure is better than any five-star resort.” He winks “Though, I admit, Vegas is a lot of fun…so long as you keep your wallet close.”
…and revealed in the light, a body, slumped against the wall
Maurice drops his smile as the smell of death wafts over
Nick: “That’s a—” his eyes fall away from the bars onto the dead body.
Maurice: “Well…poor bastard here looks like he’s not having nearly as much fun as I am…was“
Anne makes a small sound and fights down her fear, reminding herself to be brave here and taking courage from their jokes as she looks around… then starts closer. “Is he…? oh! Oui. He is dead.”
The ripe smell of decomposition hits you; the body’s face is a mottled black bruise and bloated rot. He wears dirty jeans and a military fatigue coat, his guts torn open in the belly, sprawled against the tunnel wall.
Nick somberly steps closer and takes a look at the man. He makes a cross sign and mumbles a prayer for him.
Maurice: [Pretty fresh?]
Maurice bows his head along with Nick
Ken (GM): [pretty old; maybe as old as the attack, a week ago?]
Maurice: “Ain’t no sewer-mouse that did this…and you’re right…strange the cops weren’t looking for this poor soul. I guess whoever hid him did a good enough job.”
(To Nick): You feel he was a good soul; you see the glimmer of his silver cross hanging at his neck, beside his dog tags
Nick kneels down and inspects his dog tag to learn the man’s name. He leaves it where it is, though.
Maurice: “Anyone you know?”
Nick: “Nah, but people might be looking for him.” He gets up and takes a look at the hole.
Anne hesitates, unwilling to come closer. “Oui… We may be in the lair of some deep dwelling Ghoul or Ghast that preys on the homeless that sleep in places like that warehouse pipe-room?”
Maurice checks through the pipes
Maurice: “Or just a very bad person…but considering the snake and the book, I think your idea might be equally possible, Miss.”
Nick: “Looks to me like some… wild beast did that; his wound, and these metal bars.”
Maurice waves his flashlight through the nearby grate and reveals the next room. Cavernous and slimy green, and hiding a creature!
A man with red eyes and clawed hands, his skin mottled as bloody as the corpse! He bares fangs and lunges HISSING and HOWLING like a mad animal!
Ken (GM):INITIATIVE!
Maurice: rolling 1d6 + 5 (4)+5 = 9
Anne: rolling 1d6+5.75 (1)+5.75= 6.75
Nick: rolling 1d6+1+5,75 (4)+1+5= 10
Ken (GM):rolling 1d6 + 8 (4)+8= 12
REEEEEEEEEE
The thing hisses and scrabbles forward on hob-kneed legs! Claws out, it barrels down on Maurice!
It leaps for Maurice!
Maurice will attempt to dodge if it’s trying to hit
rolling 3d6 vs 8 (3+1+4) = 8
Maurice: Match!
Ken (GM): rolling 3d6 vs dive tackle 16 (3+3+2) = 8
The thing sprawls forward, arms spread with clawed tips! Maurice JUST sidesteps the thing’s grasp and it lands in a frenzied tangle alongside him!
Ken (GM):NICK
Nick fast-draws his pistol! 15v12
Nick slow-draws his pistol!
Nick also takes a step back
Ken (GM) the gun catches on your belt, you have it in hand but waste precious moments!
Ken (GM): MOE-REESE
Maurice: I like Nicks idea. Fumblin’ for gun! [fast draw vs 11]
rolling 3d6 (6+3+4) = 13
Ken (GM): fumblegun!
in hand, but damn!
Maurice: nope, but I will pull it out for next round
Ken (GM): Annie!
Anne seems shocked by the horror but steps forward and lifts her hand. “Kenaz, salope!”
Anne rolls 3d6 vs 13 for Innate Attack
Anne: rolling 3d6 (4+2+2) = 8
Ken (GM):PEW PEW
Joush M.: At this range that hits, unless he defends
P.P.A.:I have bullets filled with garlic, apparently loading those takes an armory roll. I never specified what’s in my gun right now, but I guess it would be normal bullets since this is not a situation he expected to be in, exactly
Joush M.: Or we all explode
Ken (GM):lol
Maurice: [Jayne Cobb: I dun wanna explode!]
Green flames lick around the silvery magical fire, but the creature doesn’t dodge!
And you don’t all immediately die of sewer gas explosion!
Ken (GM):so a hit!
Anne conjures a blast of argent fire from her hand, draining the ring she’d so carefully crafted over the summer break. It should still have plenty of power left for the rest of the fight… if she did it right, anyway.
Anne: rolling 3d6 for Burn damage (4+3+4) = 11 Burn
BOOSH
The bolt of fire leaps from her hand, the lambent light ringed with green in the gassy cellar. The heat slams into the thing, flash frying it’s exposed back! It screams and boils!
Maurice laughs out in surprise but also joy at the young witches power
Ken (GM):rolling 3d6 vs HT 12 (3+4+4) = 11
Nick: “Vade retro satanas!” Nick yells at the monster; startled by the green fire, perhaps also at that.
Secondary POPS splatter out of the thing as something below it’s skin catches as well! The thing spasms, dying and chittering, and lies still, aflame…
it dies, screaming, shuddering to death in only a moment under the flames.
(To Anne): You have a moment of fear that you just killed a man with magic…but the claws, the fangs…this is not a man…
Maurice nods appreciatively, then glances between his own pistol and Nicks “I trust, having seen a sewer-ghoul, that we are close enough not to report each other for illegal firearms possession?” He chuckles and lowers his gun
Nick hastily switches his ordinary bullets for his garlic-filled ones. Just in case the monster starts moving again. “You okay Maury?”
Maurice steps back and nods, watching the monster burn for a moment
Nick: “Friend, this is America—well, the American continent at least. That’s good enough.”
In the dark of the cavern, you hear the trilling shrieks of an unknown number of other inhuman voices
REEEEE
REEEEE
REEEE
REEEEEEEEE
Maurice: “Oh yeah, he bit off a bit more than he could chew with that leap… but…it looks like he announced dinner was here.”
Anne stares in horror a moment, swallowing hard then shaking her head, taking a deep breath as if she’d forgotten to breath a moment and relaxing fractionally from the tension of the battle..
Ken (GM) UNTIL NEXT TIME! ON DRESDEN FILES!
Fiss: Gotta admit…having more fun with this character than I thought I would lol
Joush M.:I had a lot of fun too. Very different
Fiss: He’s a bit underpowered, but then I remember I’m auto-comparing him to a 3283283208 point elf-chick in the other campaign
Nick: This was really refreshing!
Ken (GM):And yet again we learn; fire magic is the best
P.P.A.:^
Fiss: lol
P.P.A.: I also had a few déjà-vus to my first TTRPG character, a Dwarven wizard in Pathfinder
who also had a penchant for eagerly opening doors and plunging into dark corridors
though having 6 STR, this was usually unwise
Ken (GM):”might be gold!”
>immediately falls down a 100 foot shaft
P.P.A.: In his case it was just autism though, in Nick’s case it’s boldness (or overconfidence, rather)
Ken (GM): sad trombone noises
P.P.A.: We once fought a boss who was waiting behind a door
Joush M.: When in dobut, burn ’em all
P.P.A.: My Dorf opened the door
and was punched in the face
and was KO and out of the battle for the rest of it
Joush M.: Man, that’s a dick boss. “Time for your yearly review!” Punch in the face
“Where do you see yourself in five years?” Then he’s trying to kick you in the dick
Fiss: Diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiick
anyway, I’mma cook food so I don’t die at work
o/
Joush M.: Take care! See you next week
Thanks for the game Ken.
P.P.A.: Thanks for the session, very enjoyable
See ya Fiss!
Ken (GM):No, thank YOU guys
Good to stretch out in a different setting
even if it is full of ELDRITCH SECRETS already 😀
P.P.A.: and green fire again
but at least not raining from the sky yet
The Gaming Musings of a Mad GM 