The Ju Ju House
1 Ransom Court, New York, NY
January 19, 1925; 2:00 a.m.

In the small hours of the next morning, two vehicles departed the Elias home on the Upper East Side, making their way to Harlem. Based on a route planned out by Bishop, they cut across the park to eliminate the possibility of being followed. The streets were quiet at that hour, and not many cars were out, making any possible cars following them easy to spot. With little difficulty, they arrived at Harlem without having even seen the slightest hint of anyone following them on the nearly empty roads of New York City.

They came up Lenox Avenue, keeping a designated distance between the two vehicles. At the corner with 139th, the cars pulled over for a moment outside of a closed business called Fat Maybelle's, Vincent getting out of one of them so he could better make a discreet approach to check the area out on foot.

The night was quiet, and the streets were empty, low light cast down from a clear sky by a moon that had only recently been full and twinkling stars that seemed to hold far off secrets. As Vincent approached the area on foot, he came up to the place the way Walter described its location to him and as they had seen on the map. One Ransom Court was a dirty alley off of 137th street, east of Lenox Avenue. The short alley opened into a 20-foot-square court. The only doors from the court are those of a placed denoted with a sign as the Ju-Ju House, and of the back door of an abandoned pawn shop, which had its front side on 138th Street that he had noticed on the approach. Crumbling tenements surrounded the court, with numerous darkened windows overlooking the area like a mythological creature with so many dark eyes.

From a distance, the Ju Ju House appeared to be closed, as did most other buildings in the area. There was a curtained door, and a curtained window on the front side of the shop, but no lights were on behind those curtains.

---

OOC:

01:01, Today: The Keeper, on behalf of Vincent Moretti, rolled 13 using 1d100 with rolls of 13.  Spot Hidden (60).
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:52, Sun 23 Aug 2015.

Tommy couldn't help but grin mischievously as he waited, full of nervous energy beside the solid figure of Bishop. The low hum of the engine soothed the background noise of the sleeping city and they lurked, waiting for Moretti to return.

"Ready when you are big guy.".

PM

PM:

After getting as much sleep as he could, Leo joined the others after doing a few last minute checks on the things in the house. All the evidence that they had gathered that they weren't leaving behind was put into his safe. He gathered his doctor's bag in case anyone was wounded during their foray into Harlem. Leo made certain the house was locked up as they exited, and he handed the keys to his car to Avery.

Leo was mostly quiet on the journey, though responded to any chatter in a businesslike manner. He had never expected to get involved in something like this, and wasn't looking forward to any potential use of his revolver. He had dedicated much of his life to helping people, not hurting them. Still, the thought of getting back at Jackson's killers - there was some thrill in that thought.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:38, Tue 25 Aug 2015.

Bishop sat in the car waiting, his Tommy gun ready, but concealed. The last time they had battled these killers, it had been a surprise this time they would be as ready as possible.

When Tommy spoke up, Bishop looked over "You'll do fine. Just remember this is likely to be kill or be killed."

Moretti sauntered down the alley, trying to take in all of the details of the small, dimly lit court. He paused to study the dark store, committing its features to memory even as he tried to affect the demeanor of a wandering pedestrian who had just realized he had stumbled down the wrong path.

Retreating from the alleyway, Moretti made his way back to the parked cars, careful to return by a different route, watchful for anyone that might follow him.

When he reached the vehicles, he kept his voice low as he explained the situation. "I didn't see any activity back there. The store's dark. Quiet. No one moving around."

He cleared his throat and frowned. "I got a good look. The front door's the only way in. No rear entrance. I don't like it much, but it's our only option."

Bishop nodded. He would have preferred the police to have done their job and deal with these killers, but clearly this was not an option. Instead he and the others would have to take matters in their own hands.

"Well at least they wont be able to slip away. I want to make sure that pawn store is not a front either."

"Let's do this." Bishop said climbing on the cars running board, and motioning the others to do the same and for the two cars to move to the end of the alley.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 02:42, Thu 27 Aug 2015.

It was the dead of night in Harlem, past the time when both decent and indecent people were usually awake and about. The clubs, music halls, and speakeasies in this part of the city would have closed by now, so they didn't attract the wrong type of attention from the police, who always seemed to be keeping an eye on them at the worst possible times.

If it were not the dead of night, the sight of a group of white folks approaching a closed African curio shop would have been noted. Now, all that bore witness to their approach were the quiet streets, the derelict tenements, the dark night, the waning moon, and the ancient and distant stars that if contemplated painted a picture of a universe so vast that it made the immediate seem immaterial. Very likely, few in that group were concerned with stargazing and philosophy this night.

The shop front, decked with a sign designating it as the "Ju-Ju House," consisted of a display window and a glass door. Both were curtained, so that the dark interior of the shop could not be seen from without. In the display window were pieces of African art: very large decorated wooden pots, masks, carvings, and other items that looked properly primitive.

   Annabel stifled a small yawn, not surprising at this early hour. There was finally some action being taken to deal with this JuJu place and she was thrilled to actually be part of it. Well, as a driver only, but hey, it was better than staying home.

  She watched from afar in the relative safety of one of the cars the group had brought. The motor was running and she was ready in case the others had to make a quick getaway. She could make out the others as they approached the shop with its odd assortment of trinkets on display in its windows. She so wished she could have seen the inside for herself, but it was not to be.

  "Oh, I do hope they will be alright," she said to no one in particular.

Stepping off the running board, Bishop kept the Thompson close so it was hard to spot. Turning back the drivers "Kill the lights but keep the engines purring."

Bishop moved to the corner of the building until the others were ready to go. Then Tommy gun in hand he moved down the alley toward the Juju House. As he moved Bishop looked for anyone that might be watching them.

Rosalie hooked her kit over her shoulder and rested her pistol against her leg.  Pausing before sliding out of the car, she put a hand on Annabel's shoulder.  "We'll be fine.  You know how to use that gun they gave you?  Have it loaded and everything?"  She was more worried about leaving Annabel behind than sneaking into the building with the boys.

Tommy slipped out of the car with the others. Seeing Annabel's nervousness he leaned forward to merrily reassure her out of earshot of all but she and Rosa. "Dont worry Ms Ashcroft. Stanley is just playing it safe, these guns are overkill.
I've peeked in plenty of places over night, its an adventure. Probably wont be anyone in there and we'll be out before you know it.".

Ducking low against the shadowed wall the reporter hurried to catch up with Bishop.
His eyes scanned the overlooking windows before falling on the closed door ahead. In a low whisper he asked "Want me to see if I can get it open? The quicker we get inside the better.".

  Annabel felt Rosalie's hand on her and gave a reassuring nod. "I..I'm sure your right. Can't help but worry after what we've seen so far from those men." She pulled out the gun given given to her by Bishop. "I have shot some, enough to be dangerous at least. I do hope it won't have to be used." She placed the weapon down beside her ready to grab if needed.

  "Do you wish you were going with them? It's probably dangerous to do so but kind of exciting too in kind of a pulp novel way."

Leo nodded at his report when Vincent returned. It was as quiet as they had hoped, and that seemed to be a good thing. Everyone seemed to know what they were doing and where they were going according to Bishop's plan.

Leo left his own Lambda to join Annabel in Bishop's car just after his niece had left the woman behind. Avery would likely be fine on his own. "Keep your eyes open and the engine running." Leo sat in the back seat, but swung a leg up on the seat to allow him to check behind the car while the drivers were vigilantly watching the store.

As they quietly approached the store, Moretti glanced around at the group, his eyes resting on Rosalie momentarily. He felt a surge of protectiveness which he quickly stifled, reminding himself that she had faced dangers in the war, and alongside Jackson in the Amazon, that he couldn't begin to comprehend.

He wondered if it was his sense of morality that was bothering him. It was one thing for the Elias family to understand the kinds of activities he, Bishop, and Brandon involved themselves in. It was another thing for them to see them firsthand. Not that anything that they did to the animals at the JuJu House would be unjustified.

Maybe the place would be as empty as it appeared.

Moretti steadied his breathing. It was a job, just like any other.

He eased his pistol out of its holster, carrying it low and near his side. He reached into his coat pocket with his left hand, his fingers curling around the pair of brass knuckles that resided there.

Keeping pace with Bishop, he listened closely to Cotton. He could certainly help with the locks if the reporter found them troublesome.

"As fast as we can," he whispered in agreement.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:51, Fri 28 Aug 2015.

"The quieter we get on the better. But make it fast." Bishop replied with a whisper. The big man found a spot where he could put his back against the wall and cover the others as Tommy picked the lock.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:26, Sat 29 Aug 2015.

Bo hangs back for a moment, watching Cotton take his leave of Annabel. As the young man passes him, he puts a hand lightly on the reporter's shoulder.

"Make sure you hit what you're aiming at, kid. You shoot one of my friends and I'll be mighty pissed." Then he lets Tommy catch up to Stan.

As the others cluster by the door, Bo grips the sawed-off under his coat and walks over to the pawnshop. He glances in its windows, watching for any movement inside the dark building, downstairs or up.

Turning back to face JuJu House, he sees Rosalie slipping along the sidewalk to join the raiding party. He frowns.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:31, Fri 28 Aug 2015.

OOC: Tommy make your Locksmithing roll.

"Oh, I am going with them," Rosalie confessed.  "They have the firepower, but they still might need the skills of a nurse.  Let's hope not."  She slid out of the seat to make room for her uncle and hurried to catch up.

Following along after the others, Rosalie gave Bo a challenging look, canting her head as if to daring him to say something.  Unsurprisingly, she'd chosen dark clothing for this venture as well as flats instead of heels.  She carried her Luger openly, safety off, and finger resting above the trigger rather than on it.  Jackson had ensured that she knew how to use it, and she wouldn't hesitate to if it was needed, though she was far more comfortable nursing than killing.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:05, Sun 30 Aug 2015.

Looking up the alley, Bishop spotted Rosalie coming towards them. He had hoped she would have stayed in the car. She had not made a point of joining them, so Bishop had not made a point of telling her to stay. Now it was too late to argue. Bishop hoped it would not matter. But he had learned long ago that hope had no power to change the future.

Bishop scanned the alley and hoped Tommy knew how to pick a lock.

  Annabel was a bit surprised as Rosalie got out with the men and went with them. The woman certainly had spunk...or foolishness. She game a hushed "Oh, do be careful," and watched her go; Annabel hoped she would be ok. Moments later Dr. Elias came over to her vehicle and got into the back seat to be a lookout.

 "Should she have gone with them," she asked the Doctor. "I know she's a grown woman but still, we don't know what awaits them in there."

Leo nodded at Annabel's question. "Yes, she should have gone with them. As you say, she is a grown woman, and is well aware of what might await. If she wants to be a part of discovering how the people that operate here are connected to Jackson's murder, then I fully support her decision to join those that are entering the shop. I believe we still have enough eyes outside the shop, though I think three of us is probably the fewest number that can be an effective look-out. Also, should any need immediate medical attention, her presence with the others might be the difference between life and death."

Leo looked around, not wanting to fail in his duties, then glanced over at Annabel. "Do you ever plan to have children Miss Ashcroft?"

It took Tommy a couple of fumbling attempts with the lock, but in not too long he was able to fully turn the knob and push the door in.

OOC
17:37, Today: The Keeper, on behalf of Thomas Cotton, rolled 75 using 1d100 with rolls of 75.  Locksmith  (57).

The attempt is at reduced difficulty because you had time for multiple attempts

 Annabel was a little surprised at Dr. Elias's approval of Rosalie going off with the others. After what happened with his son, she figured he would be a bit more cautious of his other family members. But as he said, she was not a child and could make her own decisions, foolhardy or otherwise.

  At the question of having children, Annabel turned and looked at the good Doctor, a bit of surprise on her face at the question. She hesitated for a moment, then answered.

  "I suppose one day, when I meet the right man and get married I will. After all, it is what is expected of me right, at least according to mother and society. A daughter is expected to marry well and raise lots of children for the family line, though I suppose they really wouldn't be Ashcroft's too much would they, taking the fathers name and all that."

  Annabel gave a sigh, "I know I am doing this right now, having a bit of Independence and all that, but to be honest, I really don't want to end up an 'old maid' Dr. Elias. In a way, I guess my Mother is going to eventually win and have her way. But," she added slyly, "I will never admit that to her."

Leo nodded at Annabel's response, but only briefly glanced at her - he didn't want to be taken unaware so he continued to scan the streets in their vicinity. Annabel's admission came as a bit of a surprise to Leo, though perhaps it shouldn't. "If you do have children, you will have the ability to shelter them from any possible ills, of course, or at least you can try. But I believe that for boys and girls alike, their lives are less complete without the bumps, bruises, scrapes, and even broken bones that come along with exploration. By limiting a child we limit their growth, and by limiting their growth we don't give them the opportunity to achieve their potential."

Leo remained vigilant as he spoke, unsure of what might pop up out of the dark. "If we limit them too much, children tend to rebel, and then parents and children learn to dislike and distrust each other rather than building the bonds of trust and love that should be forged during childhood and adolescence. Even worse if we continue to treat grown sons and daughters as if they were still adolescents. It further strains the familial bond, affects the adult offspring's self-confidence, and further causes distrust and shows a lack of respect."

"As parents, we can still provide our grown children with advice, which is often not taken, but we have to rely on them to use their own judgement that has been learned through a combination of experiencing those childhood bumps and bruises as well as receiving advice from a parent that they trust, love, and respect."

He briefly shook his head. "No, I will not try to limit Rosie any more than I did Jackson. Yes, he died, but he also lived most every day to the fullest extent possible. She has experienced danger and seen the ills of war. Moreover, she is one of the most intelligent people I have ever met. The only thing that gives me pause is wondering if a desire for vengeance will overcome her good sense at some point. But I think we all have that same potential weakness."

Leo again glanced at Annabel. "I hope you find a better reason within you to have children than it's what is expected of you. What worries you about having a child?"

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 24):

[Walter 'Bo' Brandon rolled 42 using 1d100 for Spot Hidden 50% examining pawnshop.]

Not seeing anything inside the pawnshop, Bo starts across the street. As Tommy fiddles with the lock, he gives Rosalie a grin.

When the door swings open, Bo snaps his fingers twice. Having gotten Stan and Vince's attention, he points to himself and to Vince and gestures to the door. If neither man objects, he goes past Tommy and through the open door, stepping to the right and sweeping his shotgun in an arc across that side of the room.

[Walter 'Bo' Brandon rolled 98 using 1d100 for Spot Hidden 50% sweeping the room.]
Edit to add Spot hidden in JuJU House.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:45, Mon 31 Aug 2015.

Bishop spared a glance to Bo. After a quick nod of agreement Bishop went back to watching the alley with his back to a wall.

Moretti gave a quick nod of understanding, following Brandon through the door. He moved to the left, sweeping that half of the room with his pistol, his eyes searching the gloom for any hint of movement.

20:47, Today: Vincent Moretti rolled 61 using 1d100 with rolls of 61.  Spot Hidden 60%.

Missed it by that much.

The door opens without so much as a creak revealing an almost inky blackness on the inside of the shops. The interior of the shop is small, a mere fifteen by twenty feet. Shelves line the wall and the interior as well, piled high with African tribal artifacts, bric-a-brac devil masks, leather headed drums, stuffed model giraffes, carves Wildebeests, dull hand weapons intended for display, ivory warthogs, and a great number of other miscellaneous items.

There is no sign of movement, and the room appears to be deathly silent saved for the sound of Bo and Vince breathing.

Bishop sees precious less in the alley, his only companion the dread silence and spectre of anticipated.

Rosalie patted Thomas on the shoulder as she passed as if to say 'good job' and stepped inside the shop after the boys.  Following their lead, she kept her flashlight off, pausing a moment to let her eyes adjust to the gloom before taking a glance around.  It was a pity they hadn't stopped by during the day.  She would have liked to have inspected the shop's selection of African imports by more than just the lamp light streaming through the windows.

In reply to Dr. Leonardo Elias (msg # 26):



Annabel listened to Dr. Elias's words of wisdom with interest. He was many years older then her and knew much in many subjects. She felt she should take some meaning from them. But his question still surprised her a bit. She blinked in surprise and looked at him.

  "Why do you say that Dr. Elias? Nothing really worries me about doing it, it's more when it's going to happen." Annabel gave a little pout. "I guess it's my own fault for rebelling against my mother and going off to do my own thing; not that I regret it mind you," she added in a hurry. "I just sometimes think of the women in my family who aren't married and wonder if I will end up like them as I get older; alone and forced to live off of family charity because they never learned a useful skill live on their own. You know, that's another reason I left. To try to be more than just a pretty face and learn some useful skills."

  In the distance she saw the others finally enter the store. "Good luck guys," she said softly half to herself. Turning back to the good Doctor, she continued. "When I do have children Dr. Elias, I hope I do have a good a job as you did in raising yours," she said with a smile.

Without a flashlight, Rosalie didn't see much more than the others. She couldn't detect any movement, but she also didn't see much more than small dark shapes on the shelves, and she could only make out the vaguest details of those closest to her. Very little of the scant light from outside made it past the edges of the curtains.

The air inside the shop was thick and musty and cold, being made now ever colder by the open door. As their eyes adjusted to the darkness, their other senses picked up ever so slightly. The shop smelled of leather and wood and old things. The longer they spent in the cramped corridors of the small, all but completely dark shop, the more an oppressive feeling of unease seemed to wash over them.

Leo raised both eyebrows momentarily at Annabel's response, shaking his head lightly at her suggestion that rebellion was her fault. He smiled when she complemented his ability to raise children, though much of it had come through study later in life than simply ability. "I thought you worried because of your hesitation when I asked about children - your suggestion that you would do so due to societal pressure rather than for other reasons implies that you don't actually desire children, but perhaps I'm reading too much into it. I will tell you that it isn't easy - raising children may be the most difficult task you ever undertake, but you likely won't fully realize what I mean until you have started a family of your own."

Leo looked about so not to let his guard down. "As for your rebellion, it is a natural reaction to structure and discipline, moreso in some than others. So don't be too hard on yourself. However, it may be best if you are more understanding of why your mother treats you as she does. Does she do it out of love? As in she wants you to be the best woman you can be? Or does she do it because you reflect on her, and she wants the world to see what an amazing person she is? Where her heart is should matter greatly to how you receive any instructions she gives you."

Bishop continued watching waiting to enter only after Tommy had done so.

Putting his tools away carefully, Thomas slipped into the door, though before doing so he gave a beckoning hand to Bishop to let the man know that it was safe to follow. At least, he assumed as much. He hadn't yet seen any signs or heard any sounds of the battleground Bishop had assumed this place would be since the first three had gone in. Still, you never really knew till it hit you, so Tommy kept a hand close on his sidearm.

Seeing that they were bathed in darkness, Tommy decided to flick on his flashlight, shining it around the room for a better view, walking around as he was able to without bumping into anyone or anything.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:53, Wed 02 Sept 2015.

Tommy's flashlight brought the shop to life just a little bit wherever he focused it, showing the first hints of color where before there had only been shadows and darkness playing on objects. The curios, art, and tribal artifacts in the room came to life, though nothing in particular stood about about any of them.

The area Tommy wandered over to was the shop counter, which featured a glass display case showcasing still more foreign curios.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:03, Wed 02 Sept 2015.

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 37):

"Douse that light, you damn fool!" Bo hisses, furious that Tommy had revealed their presence and ruined their nightvision with one careless act.

Tommy shrugged, and flicked the light off. "Fine, but how long do plan for us to sit around in the dark? I suppose we should ignore the trap door behind the counter, too, though surely you would have found it without light somehow."
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:48, Wed 02 Sept 2015.

Once again, they were bathed in complete darkness, with almost no light creeping in from the outside. If they were discovered, there was no sign at all - no noise, no commotion - nothing. In the tiny, cramped corridors of the shop, it would have been impossible for anyone to hide. No one other than Walter, Vincent, Rosalie, and Tommy was present in the room at the time.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:47, Wed 02 Sept 2015.

Moretti didn't say a word. He moved behind the counter, crouching to examine the trap door Cotton had spotted.

Something was wrong. Although there was nothing overtly threatening in the cramped shop, Moretti had long since learned to listen to his gut. Doing so had saved his life on more than one occasion. And now, as he crouched above the door, he couldn't ignore the uneasiness he felt.

Cupping his hand over his own flashlight, he ran the narrow beam over the surface of the trap door. Then, stooping closer, he listened, trying to discern any noise that might be heard below.

14:23, Today: Vincent Moretti rolled 8 using 1d100 with rolls of 8.  Listen. Listen 25%

Bo waited a moment or two until his eyes had readjusted. He began to move to his right slowly, keeping his back to the wall, until he reached the corner of the room.

[ooc - While Tommy's light was on, did we see any door that might lead to another room or any stairs to the upper floors?]

The narrow beam and closer examination revealed the inset steel handle and hinges of the trap door.

"Guess the cops did not look hard since me and Tommy spotted that trap door was walked in the place." Bishop said as the others focused on the odd entry.

"Might be nothing, but I bet we bust this case wide open with what we found down there."

While the others searches, Bishop glanced around the room to spot any threats and then looked back to the alley.

Moretti glanced back at the others. He kept his voice low, just above a whisper. "I can hear something down there, but I can't make it out. Some kind of activity." He gestured to the trap door. "It's not close. Not right on the other side of this. It's further away, but it's below."

He shrugged. "Makes sense. We knew this place was a front. You're in business you don't want other people to know about, you do it where you can't be seen. A basement's as good a choice as any."

He paused, considering. "We'll have to be careful. There may be a big space down there, the way it sounds. I can guarantee whoever's below doesn't want visitors. We'll need to watch out for each other."

"These savages are capable of committing horrible acts of violence. We can't hesitate." Bishop said. He remembered the horrors of combat of he had seen. He had grown callous to violence and even killing, but he knew some of the others had no such experience. If things turned ugly he would need to he would have to hit hard.

"Let's get that door open and see what they have hidden down there."  Bishop said preparing himself for what laid beyond.

"Maybe we should check out the rest of this level first," Bo whispers, "Remember, we're looking for evidence about what these guys've been up to and where N'Kwame hangs his hat."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:11, Thu 03 Sept 2015.

Rosalie joined the others at the trap door, waiting for them to open it.  Leaning close to Bo, she whispered.  "Did you find any other rooms off of this one?"

Tommy nodded agreement at the suggestion they figure out the rest of their surroundings before moving on.

With Rosa and Moretti covering the trapdoor he lifted from his squatting position to swiftly slip across the store to the entry that stood ajar. Carefully he swung it closed so that the outside world would think the place undisturbed, and allowed his torch to flick back into life. He shone its beam over shelves casting twisted shadows across the walls as tribal masks and African idols were illuminated, scanning for anything unusual, anything that stood out.

In reply to Dr. Leonardo Elias (msg # 34):


  This was a rather odd time to be psychoanalyzing her Annabel thought, it was probably something to get his mind off of the others being in danger, and probably Annabel's mind too, which she had to admit it was.

 She hesitated a moment before answering him, not sure how she would seem to him. "To be honest Dr. Elias, I am not sure if I would be that good of a mother, not having any experience in such matters." She then gave a slight shrug. "But in higher society, some women hand off the child raising duties to a nanny anyway and have little contact with their children; which I am sure is why we really don't think of our mothers with very much affection. I suppose Dr. Elias in her own way, my Mother does love me and her other children, but she really has a hard time expressing it. I do fear that I will end up the same way and it makes me worry for the poor child born of my womb."

    "As to your question about her, you might think ill of me for saying it, but I do think it is more about her and less about her daughters well bring and happiness." She did an imitation of her mother's voice, "'Marry well and raise our family's status.' It's all she cares about it seems any more and it really made her unhappy that her prettiest daughter has not done what is expected of her." She made a face at that and turned around again to look at the store.

"It's awfully quiet, a good thing I guess."

Leo smiled slightly at Annabel professing to not have experience in mothering, though the smile disappeared when she described her mother's consideration of her children. "No one really has experience being a parent until they've actually done so, Miss Ashcroft. While having younger siblings, cousins, nieces, and nephews might help a little, being the actual parent is far enough different that any person embarking on that wonderful and terrible journey is in roughly the same position. As for being able to express your love to your children, well, people learn from their parents in two ways - they either decide to emulate certain aspects of their parents or they decide they will do the opposite. That is probably overly simplified, but I assure you that you aren't doomed to repeat any mistakes of the previous generation. Good that you realize that your parents aren't infallible, but it also might help you to consider ways in which they have been a positive influence on you."

Leo briefly considered Annabel's thoughts on whether her mother loves her or not while looking about for anything happening in the dark, and then lightly shook his head. "It's a shame that she equates happiness with status and places the burden of helping your status on you. I can assure you, after a certain point there is little correlation with wealth and happiness. There are only different stresses and problems. Most of the time, the most important factor in a person's happiness is how well they get along with their spouse - I've heard much about your mother, but what about your father?"

In reply to Rosalie Elias (msg # 48):

"Nope," he whispers in reply, "Looks like this is all there is."

Stepping quietly over to Stanley, he asks: "Who's going down there first? Me, You, or Vince?"

Bishop had already worked things out in his mind.

"We will want to sneak down and try to take a good look before we kick over a hornets nest. This doesn't seem like a speak easy, so might be anyone's guess as to what's down there."

"Vance and you are probably sneakier than I am, so I will go down third. If the shit hits the fan move to the side or get down and I will play a tune on my piano." Bishop said patting his Tommy gun.

Moretti nodded. Reaching down, he tested the handle on the trap door to get a sense of any resistance it might offer. Then, as quietly as possible, he pulled it open.

As soon as the hatch is open, Bo finds the ladder/stair and descends as quickly and quietly as possible in the faint glow of the light from above.

In reply to Dr. Leonardo Elias (msg # 51):


    Listening to Dr. Elias speak, Annabel didn't know if she liked what she was hearing. Once again he mentioned the difficultly with raising children; maybe being a spinster was not so bad after all. As long as she had some kind of career to keep her busy, maybe she could deal with the social stigma of the title.

   At the mention of her father, Annabel thought for a moment on what she would say, then answered.

  "My father? Well, I would say he provides for his family well, as you know, he is in the shipping business. It keeps him quite busy though and sometimes we don't see him for days. Sometimes though," she said in an amused tone, "I wonder if it is more to be away from mother than that busy at work. Oh don't get me wrong Dr. Elias, I am sure he loves her in his own way, but you would understand if you are around her for any length of time. My mother can get on the nerves of the most patient of people if she is in one of her moods." She gave a small laugh at that.

  Getting back to the subject, she continued, "As for his children, I would say he is affectionate enough to us, at least he cares about our well being enough to keep mother in line when he can. I am sure he wants to see his daughters happily married, but sadly, does not get involved with making that happen, preferring to leave it to my mother."

 She gave a sigh thinking about all of this. "Honestly Dr. Elias, it's all a real mess sometimes; makes me glad for this investigation to get my mind off of it." She thought a moment. "You know, maybe I should just try for Mr. Grey. He seems kind enough, and is quite successful, though I suspect Miss Carlyle keeps him awfully busy."
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:21, Wed 09 Sept 2015.

Lifting the trap door and laying it back on its hinges revealed a set of stairs barely wide enough for one person. The steep stairs led downward into the black darkness below, though the faint glow of the flashlight above illuminated the first few steps.

---

OOC:

Are they going to be going down in complete darkness?

Bo goes slowly, carefully down the steps.

Feeling his way along the walls, Bo makes his way down the steep staircase in all but complete darkness, going down below some twenty feet until the stairs end and he finds himself in a hallway. There isn't much light filtering down from above, such that even when his eyes adjust, it isn't much different from pitch black. The walls he can feel to either side are stone, and something seems to be carved into them, but in the darkness he can't tell what it might be.

---

OOC:

Remember, the only light source in the above room is perhaps one flashlight that isn't focused near or on the trapdoor entrance, instead generally moving about the room.

Moretti followed Brandon down the steps, moving quietly, his pistol in one hand, his unlit flashlight in the other.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:42, Wed 09 Sept 2015.

As Vince descends toward him, Bo takes a slow, inching step forward and to his left, putting that shoulder up against the wall on that side, shotgun pointed away from the stair..

"Tommy follow us with the flash light, but keep it pointed down at your feet. Keep it off of us." Bishop send to the young reporter before heading down the stairs.

OOC any sounds from down below.

Walter continued to feel a wall along his left side as he stepped forward, and he could see a brief flicker of light, followed by another flicker. After a couple of flickers, he noticed what appeared to be a malfunctioning electric lantern hanging from the ceiling in the center of the passageway.

As he stepped closer to it, each brief flicker gave enough light to add some details to his perception of the area around him, though the flickering back and forth from light to darkness was disconcerting. The walls of the hallway seemed covered in strange pictographic symbols. The hallway is about fifteen feet long, and stops at a closed door that seems made of a heavy wood that is reinforced with metal. At either side of the door is a pocket of darkness that can't be made out from a distance, the flickers of light not sufficient to illuminate these areas.

Moretti moved to the right side of the hall, taking a few steps forward to distance himself from Brandon. Crossing his left hand over his right, his turned his flashlight on, keeping the beam just below chest level, and swept it over the areas of thick darkness ahead.

Moretti's flashlight showed that to the left of the door, there was a large pile of assorted garments. To the right of the door, he saw an open crate, though from this far away, he couldn't see inside of it.

Moretti advanced down the hall quietly, keeping the beam of his flashlight trained on the open crate. When he was close enough, he peered inside the crate to get a look at its contents.

Inside the crate, there were a handful of simple and crudely cut bands of leather with a red-painted oblong extension in the center hanging down.

From the other side of the door, Moretti can hear the faint sounds in the rhythmic repeated pattern, as of the tympanic sounds of a drumbeat, and muffled voices. It was something he realized he probably heard during his approach, but the nature of the sound are much more apparent now that he is standing right by the door.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:31, Wed 09 Sept 2015.

Moretti motioned the others forward. He cupped his left hand beside his ear in a "listen" motion, then pointed at the closed door.

He then reached into the crate and retrieved one of the leather bands to examine it more closely.

OOC:

The door is only big enough for one person at a time to be in front, so Moretti would have to move to the side.

Bishop moved down the stairs. Tommy gun in hand, he moved to the door and gave a listen as Vincent moved aside.

Bloody tongue, Moretti thought as he examined the red piece hanging from the center of the leather headband.

Stepping aside so the others could access the door, he crouched down to examine the pile of discarded clothing.

Examining the clothing, Vincent finds an assortment of pants, shirts, underclothing, a few dresses, coats, shoes, socks, skirts, and the like.

Leo nodded. "Yes, well-paying jobs often take their toll on the body, mind, and ability to spend time with those we love." He thought for a moment as he looked around to be sure they didn't miss anything while acting as lookouts. "Mister Grey seems both kind and busy, but not so busy that he couldn't be a good husband and father. Sometimes those in his line of work pay their dues early in their lives so they can spend time with their families later."

He looked around a bit again, then focused briefly on Annabel before resuming his scans. "How did your parents meet?"

Having caught enough from beyond the door, Bishop could surmise that a ritual was under way. Seeing Vincent looking at the pile of clothing, Bishop moved to that side and tried to estimate how many folks might have disrobed.

OOC:

Bishop, give me an INTx5 roll to see how quickly you can come to an estimate.

Vincent, Stanley, Bo - also make a Listen check.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:24, Wed 09 Sept 2015.

Bo shifts to make sure he can cover the door without putting any of his companions in the line of fire. He also listens to the muffled sounds from beyond the door.

Walter 'Bo' Brandon rolled 10 using 1d100 with rolls of 10.  Listen 40%.

18:26, Today: Vincent Moretti rolled 43 using 1d100 with rolls of 43.  Listen. Listen 25%

Tommy followed the others down, keeping his flashlight low as bishop suggested. His heart was beating faster in his chest as what had begun an adventure was quickly taking him far from what he'd expected. This wasn't some normal store...
Swallowing to keep himself calm he subconsciously gripped the weapon Bishop had leant him tighter, reassured by its cold metal while he looked at the others for guidance.


00:44, Today: Thomas Cotton rolled 30 using 1d100 with rolls of 30.  Listen.

17:17, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 75 using 1d100 with rolls of 75.  int x5 65.

Bishop did his best to estimate how many people were inside.

Rosalie followed Thomas, turning her flashlight on as she stepped away from the ladder, though kept the beam down so as not to blind anyone.  Gun at the ready in her other hand, she followed the boys, casting her gaze about the tunnel as they walked.  She threw a glance backward once, checking the way they'd come, ever watchful for people sneaking up on them.

PM:

Bishop looking up from the pile of clothing whispered "Looks like there are around twenty of them in there."

In his head Bishop considered the odds. With the tommy gun and the shotguns they had a chance. But if the enemy had guns things could go bad fast.

"We open this door, we need to be ready to finish them." Bishop added in a hushed voice.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:25, Thu 10 Sept 2015.

Moving quietly Tommy leant closer to the door. Suddenly his ears twitched and eyes widened as he looked at 'Bo with urgent concern.
"You hear that?" he hissed. "We gotta help her!".
Acting instinctively he reached for the door moving to rush in.

if no one stops him Tommy will rush inside, tho I imagine Bo could probably grab him. Rushing blindly in is my preferred fun course of action ;)

Bo's left hand snakes out to grab Tommy's shoulder and push him roughly against the wall to the right of the door. His face thrust close to the young reporter's, he hisses: "We got to come outta here alive an' kill as many a those monkeys as we can. Understand? You pull another bonehead stunt an' the Times'll be needin' a new scribbler."

He turns to Stanley and nods. "Me left. Vince right. You in th' middle. Ro, Cotton, cover us when we reload an' watch our backs."

[ooc -Door opens away from us or toward us?]

He pulls his leather gloves tighter on his fingers and looks to Stan for the go-ahead.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:01, Thu 10 Sept 2015.

Moretti nodded, silently admiring the reporter's courage, if not his good sense.

Quietly checking the loads in the shotgun, he took a slow, deliberate breath, easing the tension in his shoulders, solely focused on the moment at hand.

OOC:

The door opens towards you, and the open doorway is just about wide enough for one person to go through at a time.

"I'll take the left. It will help me steady my aim." Bishop said rating his Tommy gun and getting ready to move into position.

OOC

once the door opens, Bishop will move into position. He will scan for whoever looks to be running the show and blast em
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:08, Thu 10 Sept 2015.

As soon as the door swung open inwards towards them, noise enveloped the narrow passageway they had come down, previously having been contained in the room in front of them. From what could be seen, at least two dozen naked people seemed to be dancing - black and white alike - garbed in nothing but the strange head pieces. It appeared as an orgiastic ritual, and though some merely danced, open sexual congress could be observed between the various participants throughout the room accompanying the drum beats and strange singing. The left and the right couldn't clearly be seen from the doorway.

No one seemed to take note of the open door quite yet.

OOC:

I wasn't sure what 'moving into position' entailed, so I'll give you guys a moment to properly articulate your characters actions.

The room in front of you looks like a jam packed nightclub, assuming you all have been to one. There isn't a great deal of floor space, but there is some.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:12, Thu 10 Sept 2015.

His heart starting to pound Tommy felt the seconds pass inexorably, every moment's delay heightening his vivid imagination of what was going on in there...what was being done to the girl while they lingered. He nodded urgently, ready to help as his palms started to sweat.

Bishop was still trying to comprehend what he was seeing as he moved to the left side of the door and based the Tommy gun as he scanned the room looking for anyone who seemed to be in charge of the orgy. He had been prepared to open up as the door opened, but had not been prepared for the scene in front of him. \

But he knew that no matter what they might be seeing now at least some of those in the room were cold blooded killers. Bishop thought of Jack's notes, whatever this looked liked these people were evil.

Ooc: are we on the same level as the orgy room? Anything we could move to get some height in the room that we could reach?
This message was last edited by the player at 02:38, Fri 11 Sept 2015.

OOC:

You're on level with the room, and there's no way to get a height advantage.

As the door opened Tommy blinked in surprise.
What he'd been expecting he didn't quite know, but the throng of sensual flesh and adulation was far from the den of murderous natives he'd feared. The weapon in his hand faltered as he scanned for the girl who had cried out.

ooc: It sounds like the orgy is in full swing - is there any sign of the person Tommy thought he heard cry out, or anyone not having fun?

OOC:

Not from outside the room..

Rosalie blinked as the sounds of ritual and passion filled the hall.  Standing on her tiptoes, she tried to peer over and around their heads, but they were packed in too tightly for her to see much besides flashes of nudity and shaking feathers.  A pity, she thought.  I've never seen a real life orgy.  Had they not been investigating the murder of her cousin, she might have smirked, but even this scandalous and surprising find wasn't a cause for amusement.  Though, Rosalie still thought she needed to get a better look.

She nudged Tommy in front of her with the hand that held the flashlight, leaning close to whisper.  "Can you see what's going on in there?"

OOC:

Any open flames visible in the room?
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:58, Fri 11 Sept 2015.

When he'd first seen what was transpiring within the chamber, Moretti had felt the urge to cross himself, an instinct he quickly suppressed. Holding the shotgun just below chest level, Moretti stepped quietly into the room, moving to the right, scanning the participants for any sign of a woman that was being harmed.

These animals had a hand in Jackson's death, he reminded himself, ready to fire at the slightest hint of a threat.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:28, Fri 11 Sept 2015.

Vincent stepped into a small room with a fifteen foot ceiling, every surface being of dressed stone engraved with strange symbols. Flickering torches in wall niches lit the room, and opposite him he sees an area closed off by a curtain. Along the walls there are people playing large African drums in beat to the rhythm of the dancing and the gyrating and the thrusting. Two long, sout poles jutted out from the entry door wall, leather thongs dangling from them. The thongs held the wrists of two people who struggled against the bindings. One of the restrained persons was a young black man, rippling with muslce and very physically fit. The other restrained person is a beautiful blonde woman, her naked body a tantalizing site. Both of them seemed to represent forms of beautiful youth and physical perfection in their own way, a beauty marred only by the crude symbols and iconographs drawn on their skin. The woman continued to screan her pleas, while the man stoically struggled.

In the center of the room among the people, there was a thick stone block about eight feet in diameter. The block is attached to a large chain which in turn is connected to a pulley. One man stands out, the only person in the room with any semblance of clothing on. He is cloaked in a feathered robe, and seems to be wearing some manner of glove on his hand, though it is difficult to make out from a distance.

None of them seem to have noticed the door opening, nor Vincent's presence, as of yet.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:15, Fri 11 Sept 2015.

Bo slips into the room behind Vince. He pays little attention to the two bound by the door, all his focus on assessing threats and targets.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:16, Fri 11 Sept 2015.

Bishop hoped Rosie could not see much, motioning to her and Tommy he prepared to enter the room.

Not wanting to get separated from the Vincent and Bo, Bishop moved through the door and followed them right.

Knowing surprise is important, Bishop did his best to go unnoticed. Bishop was ready to open up if a target presents itself.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:10, Sat 12 Sept 2015.

"Blast feathers, Stan," Bo says, speaking almost directly into his ear, "Burn 'im down."

Above the din, the man in the robe raises his gauntlet in the air and seem to cry something out with great fervor in a foreign language. A few of those dancing break off and start operating the pulley. With a heavy grating sound, the large stone slab begins to lift back on its rim towards the wall, exposing whatever is beneath.

There are confused sounds of mumbling, followed by more shouting as the eyes of those in the room finally land on the doorway and the armed strangers standing within it. The man in the feathered cloak pointed his gauntleted fist at the door, looking right at them, and yelled out something again before dashing madly behind the curtains to his rear.

The throng of naked people began to surge towards the doorway, some interrupting their sexual congress, others continuing it blind to the spectacle around them, though those who were merely dancing before moved with their fellows towards the invaders of their sanctum. Hands reached through towards the investigors, and fists of the first few flew, but only a couple connected.

---

OOC:

A few fists managed to fly towards them, two of them connecting, dealing 1 point of damage to Stanley and 1 point of damage to Vincent. In the small room, it's hard for too many of them to get at the trio, giving the investigators a tactical advantage for the moment.

Here's the combat order for this round (based on DEX):

1. Vincent (First Firearm Attack)
   
2. Stanley (First Firearm Attack)
   
3. Walter (First Firearm Attack)
   
4. Vincent (If # ATT > 1)
   
5. Keeper
   
6. Thomas
   
7. Keeper
   
8. Stanley (If # ATT > 1), Rosalie
   
9. Keeper
   
10. Walter (If # ATT > 1)
    
11. Keeper
    
12. TBD

Vincent, you're up next!

This message was last edited by the GM at 13:53, Mon 14 Sept 2015.

Bishop had not waited for Bo instructions. The moment he caught sight of the feathered man he opened up on the man sending a steady stream of bullets into the most obvious target in the room. Even as the man moved to run behind the hid behind the mob, Bishop kept his rounds on target his round slamming into whoever got in the way.

"Die you savage bastards!!" Yelled over the roar of his tommy gun.

As Bishop fired he backed up and returned to his original position and yelled "We need to fall back!"

12:46, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 40 using 8d10 with rolls of 3,1,4,4,6,9,6,7.other eight hits. 1d10+2 means total of 56

12:46, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 17 using 2d10 with rolls of 10,7.  First  hit Impale . 1d10+2 means total of 24 .If not an impale still does 12.

12:44, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 9 using 1d10 with rolls of 9.  shots that hit.

12:43, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 13 using 1d100 with rolls of 13.  Tommy Gun 10 shots  feathered man +50.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:14, Mon 14 Sept 2015.

"Figlio di puttana," Moretti snarled, half under his breath, as he saw the stone begin to raise and the throng of people surge toward them, their deadly intent clear. Bracing the shotgun, he fired, targeting the most immediate threat: the cultists directly in front of him.

00:37, Today: Vincent Moretti rolled 39 using 1d100 with rolls of 39.  Firearms - Shotgun.
00:38, Today: Vincent Moretti rolled 12 using 4d6 with rolls of 2,4,5,1.  Damage - Shotgun.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:54, Sun 13 Sept 2015.

Bo swings the shotgun toward the closest maniac, as she comes screaming toward them, and pulls the trigger. The sound is deafening in the close quarters. He tries to swing the barrel toward a second target, but the woman's momentum carries her into him, knocking the barrel out of line so that the load scatters harmlessly above the heads of the crowd.

Walter 'Bo' Brandon rolled 33 using 1d100 with rolls of 33.  Shotgun 30x2=60%.
Walter 'Bo' Brandon rolled 12 using 4d6 with rolls of 6,2,3,1.  Damage.
Walter 'Bo' Brandon rolled 85 using 1d100 with rolls of 85.  Shotgun 30x2=60%.

Rosa had whispered "Can you see whats going on in there?".
Oh it's nothing. Just a room of naked people.
The question made Tommy blush awkwardly, bemused by what he saw and her breath on his neck.

Before him the others were already moving. The beat of the music within the heaving room caught Tommy like a current and instinctively he moved into position behind Bo. He hadn't expected things to happen so quickly.

In an instant he heard the thunder of the tommy gun, the screams of people within, the acidic scent of gunpowder in the air.

Without thinking he raised his arm toward the surging mass and flinched as he let of a wild shot at one of the men rushing toward them. His eyes widened as the shots sang out and he began to stumble back.
"Rosa, the trapdoor! We need to get back up there or we'll be overwhelmed!".
They could defend the narrow stairs far better than this wide room, and with luck a heavy cabinet might delay pursuit too.

17:34, Today: Thomas Cotton rolled 2 using 1d10 with rolls of 2.  Damage.
17:34, Today: Thomas Cotton rolled 51 using 1d100 with rolls of 51.  Handgun vs 80 (40x2).
This message was last edited by the player at 17:16, Sun 13 Sept 2015.

The room exploded into chaos and pandemonium as the shots came against those who came at them in the doorway. Vincent laid out the first man that was within striking distance with them, just as Stanley began unloading his Thompson on the group with vicious accuracy. As his bullets riddled the crowd, almost miraculously, one of them found its way through the crowd and ripped through the head of the man wearing the feathered cloak. Even before Bo's shotgun issued the next deafening blast at the next man coming towards him, the room was soaked in blood and guts.

---

OOC:

Vincent, if you have a second attack with your shotgun, you're up next. (Please let me know)

Otherwise, it's my turn.

1. Vincent (First Firearm Attack)
   
2. Stanley (First Firearm Attack)
   
3. Walter (First Firearm Attack)
   
4. Vincent (If # ATT > 1)
   
5. Keeper
   
6. Thomas
   
7. Keeper
   
8. Stanley (If # ATT > 1), Rosalie
   
9. Keeper
   
10. Walter (If # ATT > 1)
    
11. Keeper
    
12. TBD

This message was last edited by the GM at 15:23, Tue 15 Sept 2015.

Moretti's initial instinct was to back out of the room. The insane throng was too large. If they lingered, he knew they would be overwhelmed.

He glanced to his right, to the man and woman hanging from the posts. He couldn't abandon them to whatever horrific fate these savages had planned for them. Not knowing what had happened to Jackson and Cederecci.

Leveling the shotgun at the next nearest attacker, his discharged the second barrel, dropping the weapon into his left hand as he reached for his pistol.

"Bishop!" he yelled, trying to raise his voice over the din of violence. "Can you cut me a path to the prisoners?"

21:45, Today: Vincent Moretti rolled 43 using 1d100 with rolls of 43.  Firearms - Shotgun.
21:46, Today: Vincent Moretti rolled 15 using 4d6 with rolls of 5,3,4,3.  Damage - Shotgun.
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:53, Wed 16 Sept 2015.

As the red sea of bodies parted in the wake of the hail of bullets unleashed upon them, four more people came forth. Their foreheads were carved with the bloody symbol that was now eerily familiar, and their intestines dangled out, spilling from within their bodies. Those in the know would have recognized the face of Abraham Hargrove among them, coming steadily towards them with the others. Like the other walking dead, darkened blood caked the horrible symbol carved into Abraham's forehead, and his intestines seemed to spill out of his body as he walked towards them.

They moved forward with no compunction for the bodies that had given way before them, beyond death themselves with no heed for the living.

---

OOC:

Stanley, Walter, Thomas and Vincent: Please make SAN rolls for me.


This message was last edited by the player at 16:12, Tue 15 Sept 2015.

As his bullets tore into the crowd he spotted Hargrove. Despite being covered in the blood and guts of other knew it was him. So now they had the answer to his disappearance, he had betrayed them. Perhaps he had been a member of the cult all along. Now he would pay for his crimes.

"Fall back to the door!" Bishop yelled in reply to Vincent. He understood hid friend's desire, but they could not rescue anyone if they were dead.

OOC: Non action post. Roll and reaction.

09:00, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 17 using
1d100 with rolls of 17.  Sanity 80.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:28, Tue 15 Sept 2015.

PM:
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:17, Tue 15 Sept 2015.

21:12, Today: Vincent Moretti rolled 73 using 1d100 with rolls of 73.  Sanity - Sanity 75%

Just under the wire.

Tommy's eyes widened with horror. With adrenaline pumping through his veins and the roar of gunfire deafening his ears he had little time to comprehend what he saw.
The mass of bodies within was overwhelming and with a pounding heart he let off another shot and backed toward the door, readying to slam it closed when...if...the others made it out of there.

OOC:

Tommy and Walter: I still need a SAN roll from each of you.

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 113):

16:19, Yesterday: Walter 'Bo' Brandon rolled 70 using 1d100 for SAN 55.

To their right, two men stood ten feet away, and they continued to crank at the pulley. The stone slab began steadily to raise into the air, towards the wall where when complete it would lean. It was now more than halfway upraised. The blonde woman and the black man bound against the right wall seemed to struggle even more as the stone slab was raised. They tried to raise the volume of their cries over the sound of the gunfire.


"Help us!"

"Please, don't let them!"

Their cries were filled with both desperation and resignation.

OOC:

Looks like Dr. Elias is soon going to find that Annabel's unresolved 'mommy issues' are small potatoes:

• Tommy, Stanley, and Vincent all passed their Sanity checks, but still take 1 SAN loss. You can only lie to yourself so far.
• Stanley takes an additional 1d4 SAN loss, since he knew Abraham before.
• Walter failed the Sanity check, so takes 1d8 SAN loss plus an additional 1d4 SAN loss, since he knew Abraham before.

Combat Update:
Of the original 30 folks in here, about 12 of them are dead at this point in the round, leaving about 18 (including 4 zombies).

Walter 'Bo' Brandon rolled 11 using d8+d4 for Sanity loss out of 55. So 20%.

quote:

Of the original 30 folks in here, about 12 of them are dead at this point in the round, leaving about 18 (including 4 zombies).

So only 16 unarmed combatants. Come on, you guys, MAN UP!

This message was last edited by the player at 15:25, Wed 16 Sept 2015.

It finally hit Bishop that Hargrove and some of the others were no longer men .. but instead they were zombies. He had heard of such things in Haiti but that was just talk. This was real. They had to be stopped. They had to be cut to pieces.

"Damn it!"

"Vincent take out the two on the crank. Bo, Tommy keep em off me."

10:01, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 2 using 1d4 with rolls of 2.  Sanity .

This message was last edited by the player at 05:29, Tue 22 Sept 2015.

---

OOC:

ROSALIE...you're up next!

1. Vincent (First Firearm Attack)
   
2. Stanley (First Firearm Attack)
   
3. Walter (First Firearm Attack)
   
4. Vincent (If # ATT > 1)
   
5. Keeper
   
6. Thomas
   
7. Keeper
   
8. Stanley (If # ATT > 1), Rosalie
   
9. Keeper
   
10. Walter (If # ATT > 1)
    
11. Keeper
    
12. TBD

Gunfire, blood, death, screams of terror.  It was a grisly scene and one that she'd not witnessed since the war.  She wanted flee, to throw herself into the arms of her uncle, but her resolve would never allow her to abandon her friends.  With the exception of the reporter, these were men she knew and trusted, and she wouldn't back down while they were still in harm's way.

Pushing in beside Tommy, she took the shocking scene in stride -- until she saw the remains of Abraham Hargrove.  Anger bloomed in her chest.  While the thought of firing on unarmed civilians was horrific, Stanley's vehement shouts were a quick reminder that they had a hand in Jackson's death.  From the glimpse she's gotten of the Juju's naked prisoners, she knew that if these evil cultists wouldn't stop killing until someone stopped them.

Hands that were much more accustomed to helping now held death.  Lifting the Luger with both hands, she fired twice at the press of naked bodies nearest her.


07:11, Today: Rosalie Elias rolled 67 using 1d100 with rolls of 67.  Handgun - 1st Shot (56x2=112).
07:12, Today: Rosalie Elias rolled 96 using 1d100 with rolls of 96.  Handgun - 2nd Shot (56x2=112).
07:13, Today: Rosalie Elias rolled 3 using 1d10 with rolls of 3.  Damage - 1st Shot.
07:13, Today: Rosalie Elias rolled 6 using 1d10 with rolls of 6.  Damage - 2nd Shot.

06:53, Today: Rosalie Elias rolled 70 using 1d100 with rolls of 70.  Sanity (78).

Rosalie's Luger put two rounds into another dancer, leaving him staggering. Meanwhile, the animated corpses finally closed in on the group around the door, walking unhindered over the blood-soaked, bullet ridden bodies of the those who had been just recently mowed down. One of them slid past Stanley's Thompson to bite him, sinking its teeth into his arm. Another corpse lunged towards Tommy, biting into his shoulder.

As their numbers thinned out, they didn't flee, but instead crowded more towards the interlopers. One old man began to run towards the curtained area, and a two men moved towards the two victims.

---

OOC:

The zombie bites do 4 points of damage to Stanley and 3 points of damage to Tommy. Both Stanley and Tommy may attempt Dodge rolls if desired.

Another round!

Vincent!...you're up next!

1. Vincent (First Firearm Attack)
   
2. Tommy (First Firearm Attack)
   
3. Rosalie (First Firearm Attack), Stanley (First Firearm Attack)
   
4. Walter (First Firearm Attack)
   
5. Vincent
   
6. Keeper
   
7. Thomas
   
8. Keeper
   
9. Stanley (If # ATT > 1), Rosalie
   
10. Keeper
    
11. Walter
    
12. Keeper
    
13. TBD

This message was last edited by the GM at 16:02, Fri 18 Sept 2015.

15:40, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 38 using 1d100 with rolls of 38.  Dodge versus bite if able.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:46, Thu 17 Sept 2015.

When Moretti had seen the four people pressing through the crowd toward the door, he had paused momentarily, blinking at what he witnessed.

They looked dead. Their skin...their entrails falling out of them. They had to be dead.

That didn't make any damned sense.

Bishop's voice broke him out of his brief trance. His eyes moved to the rising slab, then to the two men working the pulley. Taking aim, he fired at the closest one.

18:34, Today: Vincent Moretti rolled 51 using 1d100 with rolls of 51.  Firearms - Handgun.
18:35, Today: Vincent Moretti rolled 12 using 1d10+2 with rolls of 10.  Damage - Handgun.

     Annabel nodded at the Doctor's answer.

  "Would it surprise you that I actually see that? I know he's not the best looking of men, but he's successful and as you say, seems to have a kind heart. I am sure some day he will make a good husband to someone. I suppose I could attract him if I really tried; you know, it's not that hard for me."

     She gave one of her attracting smiles to the other man, showing that indeed it was easy for her to turn heads.

     "But," she continued, "does he want a wife that looks good on his arm for parties, or someone to match his intelligence?" She gave a small frown, "I suppose he could have both in a woman if he got lucky, but I don't think that's me."

    His other question surprised Annabel and she looked taken aback for a moment. "How did they meet? Um,....wow, I think it was at one of the parties we all get stuck going to for one reason or another. Mother told us a while ago when we asked her, but I don't really remember at the moment. I'll have to think on that one."

   She wondered why she could not remember, was the reason that unmemorable, or did she just not really pay attention like she did to so many other things Mother said to her. It was actually kind of embarrassing and Annabel turned away to look at the store once more to hide her blushing. She wondered how the others were doing, did they find anything?

Moretti's bullet tore into the head of one of the men operating the pulley, sending the stone slab back down a few feet. The remaining man had to throw his entire weight down on it to keep it from completely shutting, and seemed to struggle with the weight, but was able to continue, slowly working it. Stanley attempted to dodge the zombie that came after him, but it still managed to sink its teeth into him.

---

OOC:

Stanley: Your dodge is successful!(Remember, if you Dodge, you can't attack in the same round).

The zombie bite does 3 points of damage to Tommy. Tommy!...you're up next! Do you want to Dodge the zombie bite, or keep pressing the attack?

1. Vincent (First Firearm Attack)
   
2. Tommy (First Firearm Attack)
   
3. Rosalie (First Firearm Attack),
   
4. Walter (First Firearm Attack)
   
5. Keeper
   
6. Thomas (Second Firearm Attack)
   
7. Keeper
   
8. Rosalie (Second Firearm Attack)
   
9. Keeper
   
10. Walter (Second Firearm Attack)
    
11. Keeper

This message was last edited by the GM at 15:04, Mon 21 Sept 2015.

Tommy cried out, stumbling back as the thing shambled toward him. It's teeth takes a bloody chunk in his arm as he tore away, the limb throbbing in pain.
Desperately he raised his weapon again and fired while continuing to retreat toward the door.

17:09, Today: Thomas Cotton rolled 2 using 1d10 with rolls of 2.  Damage.
17:08, Today: Thomas Cotton rolled 64 using 1d100 with rolls of 64.  Handgun vs 80.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:39, Mon 21 Sept 2015.

"Thomas!" Rosalie's eyes widened as she saw one of the shambling creatures latch on to the reporter.  Squeezing the trigger, she loosed off another shot at point blank range, aiming for Tommy's attacker.



18:40, Today: Rosalie Elias rolled 76 using 1d100 with rolls of 76.  Handgun - 1st Shot (56x2=112).
18:44, Today: Rosalie Elias rolled 1 using 1d10 with rolls of 1.  Damage - 1st Shot.

This message was last edited by the GM at 14:41, Wed 23 Sept 2015.

OOC:

Walter,  you're next!

1. Vincent (First Firearm Attack)
   
2. Tommy (First Firearm Attack)
   
3. Rosalie (First Firearm Attack), Stanley (First Firearm Attack)
   
4. Walter (First Firearm Attack)
   
5. Keeper
   
6. Thomas (Second Firearm Attack)
   
7. Keeper
   
8. Rosalie (Second Firearm Attack)
   
9. Keeper
   
10. Walter (Second Firearm Attack)
    
11. Keeper

This message was last edited by the GM at 14:22, Tue 22 Sept 2015.

Walter drops the shotgun to the floor. He draws both of his pistols, the .38 from under his arm and the .45 from his waist.

10:11, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 34 using 1d100 with rolls of 34.  Tommy Gun. 10 shots +50% point blank 200%

10:11, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 4 using 1d10 with rolls of 4.
10:14, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 23 using 4d10+2 with rolls of 6,9,1,5.  damage.

with +2: 7, 11, 3, 7

If able to fend off the zombie with parry while firing one handed with tommy gun.
22:30, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 13 using 1d100 with rolls of 13.  Parry Fist 65.


With the creature attacking so close, Bishop fired away while trying to fend off his attacker by keeping it off of him. He had never seen anything like these things, but hoped he and the others could fight there way out of this mess.

"Hold the line!" Bishop barked.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:06, Tue 22 Sept 2015.

Something happened when Rosalie fired her weapon; the body of one of the walking dead that seemed like they had previously been immune to gunfire seemed to cave in on itself, as if she cracked something that had been holding it together, or perhaps she had finally harmed it so much that it could no longer go on, and it came down to the floor. It had been the one with the face of Abraham Hargrove.

The same thing happened to two of the others as Stanley pounded bullets into the oncoming dead, one of the undead similarly buckling and falling to the ground, followed by another.

Only one was left of that wave in front of them after their latest salvo and it seemed to snarl soundlessly as it leaned forward to bite at Vincent.

As the dead fell in front of them, the ranks of the living began to press forward to take their places, until there were two of the participants of the strange ritual they observed on each side of the lone undead abomination that had come to bite Vincent.

OOC:

Thomas,  you're next!

The zombie bite does 1 point of damage to Vincent. Since you have already attacked this round, you may not attempt a Dodge/Parry roll.

There is 1 zombie left in front of you, though the living enemies are pouring in to fill the void where the zombies were as described above.

1. Vincent (First Firearm Attack)
   
2. Tommy (First Firearm Attack)
   
3. Rosalie (First Firearm Attack), Stanley
   
4. Walter (First Firearm Attack)
   
5. Keeper
   
6. Thomas (Second Firearm Attack)
   
7. Keeper
   
8. Rosalie (Second Firearm Attack)
   
9. Keeper
   
10. Walter (Second Firearm Attack)
    
11. Keeper

Leo continued to be vigilant, but furrowed his brow at Annabel's disparagement of her own mental abilities. "And just why do you not think you are reasonable intellectual match? A well-kept secret of men is that they want a woman who is intelligent, but not as much as they are. You have much more to offer than just a pretty face, Miss Ashcroft. Do not sell yourself short. And consider well how you go about attracting any man. The way in which you do so will determine the path your relationship is likely to take."

Leo's head swiveled again and then his eyes briefly settled on Annabel. "As for his appearance, do you really want the best-looking of men?" He again scanned the nearby buildings, road, and sidewalks. He also looked up on any roof visible from their vantage point to be sure there wasn't anything above them.

As more of them began rushing towards them, Thomas cracked a second shot with his gun, sending the creature that had bit him staggering back, though it still held its feet. From over his shoulder, another gunshot came from Rosalie's weapon blasting a hole in its skull and sending it reeling to the ground incapacitated.

Four of the room's occupants broke off from the herd and rushed toward where the two victims were, chanting something unrecognizable.

---

09:03, Today: The Keeper, on behalf of Thomas Cotton, rolled 10 using 1d10 with rolls of 10.
09:03, Today: The Keeper, on behalf of Thomas Cotton, rolled 57 using 1d100 with rolls of 57.  Attack #2.
18:40, Today: Rosalie Elias rolled 17 using 1d100 with rolls of 17.  Handgun - 2nd Shot (56x2=112).
18:44, Today: Rosalie Elias rolled 12 using 2d10 with rolls of 8,4.  Damage - 2nd Shot. (Impale).

All the zombies are dead, twelve people are left.

WALTER -- you're next!

1. Vincent (First Firearm Attack)
   
2. Tommy (First Firearm Attack)
   
3. Rosalie (First Firearm Attack), Stanley
   
4. Walter (First Firearm Attack)
   
5. Keeper
   
6. Thomas (Second Firearm Attack)
   
7. Keeper
   
8. Rosalie (Second Firearm Attack)
   
9. Keeper
   
10. Walter (Second Firearm Attack)
    
11. Keeper

Walter brings up the .45 in his right hand and shoots the naked person nearest to Stanley.

Walter 'Bo' Brandon rolled 32 using 1d100 for Shoot .45 revolver 2x60=120%; Walter 'Bo' Brandon rolled 3 using 1d10+2for Damage.

Tommy's hand shook as the shambling thing collapsed, blood streaming down his arm. If it hadn't been for Rosalie's help...now wasn't the time to dwell on such things. Trying to ignore the pain he shouted out.
"No one else needs to get hurt! Surrender, dont end up like those things!".

ooc: Tommy isn't familiar first hand with the mania of occultism, or at least hopes one or two of the enemy may falter in their action being equally horrified by the zombies.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:34, Wed 23 Sept 2015.

In reply to Dr. Leonardo Elias (msg # 131):


 Annabel's face showed surprise at Dr. Elias's response. She hesitated a moment before answering.

  "Well Dr. Elias it must be a very well kept secret indeed because I sure never see it," the young woman said with sarcastic amusement. "When a man shows interest in me Dr. Elias, I am sure it is because they like what they see, not that I am intelligent, witty, or amusing. Those traits are not ones that a woman such as I are judged upon. Instead it is ones such as, how pretty is my face, how good do I look in that outfit, or how good do I look good on their arm." She gave a sigh; "like it or not Dr. Elias, to many I am considered a bauble, and it's my attractiveness they desire, not what I may think about any given subject."

     She gave the older man a melancholy smile. "Being a man, I know it's hard to see my point and it's nice to hear someone say I can be judged for more; but I fear my beauty tends to blind people to other qualities I have and even the intelligent ones are affected by it."

 She gave some thought at his next question then spoke up. "Would it be such a bad thing if I said maybe? I think I would like a good, all around package if possible and that includes being reasonably attractive ans well as intelligent and witty. I mean, these looks have to be good for something, right?"

  "Tell me Dr. Elias, what made you decide on Mrs. Elias? I am sure her looks had to have had some part of your decision to marry her."

If eyes were the windows to the soul, the eyes of those still coming towards them despite the death, blood, and gunfire would show to onlookers a dark emptiness and a sense of madness. Thomas might as well have been shouting at them in gibberish for all they seemed to understand of it or care.

Towards the side of the room, two men and a woman worked in unison to untie the man they held captive.

---

OOC:

Vincent!...you're up next!

1. Vincent (First Firearm Attack)
   
2. Stanley (First Firearm Attack), Rosalie (First Firearm Attack)
   
3. Walter (First Firearm Attack)
   
4. Keeper
   
5. Thomas
   
6. Keeper
   
7. Rosalie (Second Firearm Attack)
   
8. Keeper
   
9. Walter (Second Firearm Attack)
   
10. Keeper

Bishop looked over the scene before him. He knew that the only answer to such an enemy was hot led or cold steel. "Hold the line!"

"Vincent take out the guy on the pulley!" Bishop barked.

Reflexively, Moretti had cocked his fist, ready to lash out with a left hook at the man, the apparently dead man, that had attacked him. The instant before he could act, a bullet from one of the others sent the bastardo to his reward.

For a brief moment, he took in the scene before him. His mind struggled, unsuccessfully, to comprehend the situation they faced. It wasn't the violence, in itself, that caused him difficulty. At least, not now. It was these people's seeming immunity to it. The vacancy in their eyes. Their complete disregard for self preservation. He had never encountered anything like it.

Shifting his focus back to the pulley, he aimed at the man still working to raise the slab and fired.

10:09, Today: Vincent Moretti rolled 73 using 1d100 with rolls of 73.  Firearm - Handgun.


10:10, Today: Vincent Moretti rolled 7 using 1d10+2 with rolls of 5.  Damage - Handgun.

I think the pulley is within point blank range for Moretti, in which case, that's a still a hit. If I'm incorrect, it's a miss.

The bullet Vincent fired slammed into the man's shoulder, sending him reeling. He released the pulley, unable to pull any more on the slab, and the stone slammed to the ground with a massive thud that filled the room. Blood gushing from his shoulder, he struggled to get back up to his feet.

---

OOC:

Stanley and Rosalie!...you're up next!

1. Vincent(First Firearm Attack)
   
2. Tommy (First Firearm Attack)
   
3. Stanley (First Firearm Attack), Rosalie (First Firearm Attack)
   
4. Walter (First Firearm Attack)
   
5. Keeper
   
6. Tommy (Second Firearm Attack)
   
7. Keeper
   
8. Rosalie (Second Firearm Attack)
   
9. Keeper
   
10. Walter (Second Firearm Attack)
    
11. Keeper

This message was last edited by the GM at 15:27, Tue 29 Sept 2015.

Bishop, seeing the three of cultists attempting to cut down the two hostages, aimed low to avoid the hostages and fired into the nefarious trio. The tommy gun spit out more justice into the enemy.

10:54, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 45 using 1d100 with rolls of 45.  attack.
10:54, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 5 using 1d10 with rolls of 5.  bullets.
10:55, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 31 using 5d10 with rolls of 3,7,9,8,4.  damage.

5,9,11,10,6 damage split among the trio.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:36, Tue 29 Sept 2015.

Walter again fires his revolver into the wounded attacker.

Walter 'Bo' Brandon rolled 89 using 1d100 for Shoot .45 revolver 2x60=120%.
Walter 'Bo' Brandon rolled 12 using 1d10+2 for Damage.

Rosalie didn't have time to scream or cry out, not when the cultists continued to surge forward.  She squeezed off another shot at the brown body nearest her.



21:27, Today: Rosalie Elias rolled 63 using 1d100 with rolls of 63.  Handgun - 1st Shot (56x2=112).
21:28, Today: Rosalie Elias rolled 2 using 1d10 with rolls of 2.  Damage - 1st Shot.

---

OOC:

Looks like I made a mistake with the list and skipped Tommy. Well, let's let the reporter have his due. Tommy!...you're up next!

1. Vincent(First Firearm Attack)
   
2. Tommy (First Firearm Attack)
   
3. Stanley (First Firearm Attack), Rosalie (First Firearm Attack)
   
4. Walter (First Firearm Attack)
   
5. Keeper
   
6. Tommy (Second Firearm Attack)
   
7. Keeper
   
8. Rosalie (Second Firearm Attack)
   
9. Keeper
   
10. Walter (Second Firearm Attack)
    
11. Keeper

It wasn't happening. It couldn't be.

His arm felt warm, hot with the blood that ran from the cruel tear in his pale flesh. His heart pounded as he looked around wide eyed, dazed and uncomprehending. Still the wild eyed men surged toward him oh noring the hale of bullets that sank into their comrades.

What else could he do but instinctively squeeze the trigger again to open fire. With a half stumble he tried to move away from the door, at least trying to give the enemy a place to run.

aiming at whoever is closest...tho if no one is threatening rosalie or himself directly he will instead try to cover one of the other guys

The man near the pulley's attempts to stand came to an end when he couldn't seem to come to his feet, losing consciousness. Bishop's burst of fire proved as deadly as it ever had before, taking out the people who were moving for the victims with a hail of bullets.

Nearby, the reporter proved to have a sense of calm under fire, picking off the nearest targets and leaving them critically injured. The first person he shot passed out from a wound. Rosalie clipped another man in the shoulder, and Thomas turned his gun to finish him off, planting a bullet in his throat.

Meanwhile, Walter gunned down the man that had come at him the last time. Of the large group that had been dancing and fornicating in this room moments before, only five people remained standing.

---

OOC:

Of the twelve that were standing at the start of the round, five of them are now dead, and two of them passed out from shock due to critical injuries. That leaves five people still up.

1. Vincent(First Firearm Attack)
   
2. Tommy (First Firearm Attack)
   
3. Stanley (First Firearm Attack), Rosalie (First Firearm Attack)
   
4. Walter (First Firearm Attack)
   
5. Keeper
   
6. Tommy (Second Firearm Attack)
   
7. Keeper
   
8. Rosalie (Second Firearm Attack)
   
9. Keeper
   
10. Walter (Second Firearm Attack)
    
11. Keeper

From behind the curtain at the other side of the room, the old man that had made his way back there earlier emerged wielding a large scepter of some kind. He pointed it at the group and yelled out something in a strange language. It was a language none of them could speak, or understand, or comprehend, though the alien sounds that he spoke seemed to sound somehow wrong, as if they were not a proper language or meant to be spoken by that mouth.

---

OOC:

Silas casts Mindblast on the person who has proven the most deadly in a last ditch effort to fend off the interlopers: Stanley.

Stanley: You lose 5 SAN. Please make an Idea roll (and try to fail!).

Rosalie, you're up next!

1. Vincent(First Firearm Attack)
   
2. Tommy (First Firearm Attack)
   
3. Stanley (First Firearm Attack), Rosalie (First Firearm Attack)
   
4. Walter (First Firearm Attack)
   
5. Keeper
   
6. Tommy (Second Firearm Attack)
   
7. Keeper
   
8. Rosalie (Second Firearm Attack)
   
9. Keeper
   
10. Walter (Second Firearm Attack)
    
11. Keeper

Seeing the man appear with the rod in his hand from behind the curtain, Bishop was about to shift targets was his mind was torn apart by heathen magicks.



16:52, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 28 using 1d100 with rolls of 28. idea.

Rosalie knew she was getting low on bullets.  The only spark of hope was that they were also getting low on targets.  She hated seeing men drop, wounded or dead, but she wouldn't see her friends hurt.  Steadily, she took aim and fired once more at one of the many trying to swarm them.


17:00, Today: Rosalie Elias rolled 24 using 1d100 with rolls of 24.  Handgun - 2nd Shot (56x2=112).
17:03, Today: Rosalie Elias rolled 7 using 1d10 with rolls of 7.  Damage - 2nd Shot.

Stanley, the stalwart presence who had helped plan this incursion and defended his friends relentlessly by dealing out death to any who would think of harming them, seemed suddenly overcome. He dropped his gun and covered his face with his hand screaming. The scream suddenly cut off and he removed his hands from his face and stared blankly at everyone around him before falling to a dead faint, his fall cushioned by on one of his blood soaked bullet riddled victims.

There were three men left before them. One of them dove at Walter, but missed completely, hitting his head against the wall.

Two tried to grab Vincent. The feisty Italian managed to wriggle away from one of them but right into the grip of the other.

---

OOC:

Vincent!...you're up next!

1. Vincent (First Firearm Attack)
   
2. Tommy (First Firearm Attack)
   
3. Rosalie (First Firearm Attack)
   
4. Walter (First Firearm Attack)
   
5. Keeper
   
6. Tommy (Second Firearm Attack)
   
7. Keeper
   
8. Rosalie (Second Firearm Attack)
   
9. Keeper
   
10. Keeper

This message was last edited by the GM at 21:17, Tue 06 Oct 2015.

Moretti's lip curled into a snarl as the crazed celebrant grabbed him. Shifting his feet, he shoved his pistol against his attacker's stomach and fired.

08:49, Today: Vincent Moretti rolled 47 using 1d100 with rolls of 47.  Firearm - Handgun.

08:50, Today: Vincent Moretti rolled 7 using 1d10+2 with rolls of 5.  Damage - Handgun.

Thomas targeted the man at the back of the room holding the staff and pulled the trigger, silencing his strange and haunting cries with a bullet that tore into him.

---

13:21, Today: The Keeper rolled 9 using 1d10 with rolls of 9.
13:20, Today: The Keeper rolled 38 using 1d100 with rolls of 38.  Tommy's First Attack.

Rosalie, go!

"Stanley!"  Rosalie saw him fall, but hadn't seen the attack.  She fired at the nearest target again, thinking one of them had wounded him.




17:26, Today: Rosalie Elias rolled 71 using 1d100 with rolls of 71.  Handgun - 1st Shot (56x2=112).
17:27, Today: Rosalie Elias rolled 6 using 1d10 with rolls of 6.  Damage - 1st Shot.

From a sense of combat awareness that resulted from his frenzied mental state and a sense of calm he managed to find within that on account of his past exposures to the horrors of war, Bo reacted well to the man that had badly missed them and struck his head against the wall. It was an easy mark for him, and he turned and made it, planting a bullet in the man's head.

---

That's a hit and a perfect 12 damage, capping

10:18, Today: The Keeper rolled 12 using 1d10+2 with rolls of 10.
10:18, Today: The Keeper rolled 38 using 1d100 with rolls of 38.  Walter.

There was a stillness in the room after Walter's gun rang out. The moment they entered the room now seemed like ages ago, though in truth it was more like minutes. Now the room was filled with the dead and others on death's doorstep.

---

Combat over. The majority of the NPCs in the room are dead, though a handful failed their CON checks and are unconscious (on account of having taken heavy damage).

Leo nodded at Annabel's response, but didn't have to think overlong to reply. "I would say that looks had little to do with ultimately deciding to marry Catherine. However, there has to be some attraction at the start - a spark that might ignite the flame. So while a man may initially be attracted to your looks, few would marry solely for them. Those that would are destined for some degree of disappointment, and you probably wouldn't like what you found when you scratched the surface to see what lurked below."

Leo looked around again, trying to ensure that those inside weren't surprised by anyone entering while they searched. "The distinct advantage that good looks give you is that it does theoretically increase the number of people that are interested in you, and crossing that threshold level of attraction will be easy for you. Therefore you have a lot of choices, which can be both good and bad. But the substance beyond what your looks have to offer is what will make a successful courtship and marriage."

Leo smiled as he considered her desire to have it all. "And no, it isn't such a bad thing to want the complete package. Just realize that while you may find someone who is a good partner for you, they will have their flaws like anyone. If you go hunting perfection, you will be eternally disappointed."

Walter looked around the room full of the scent of cordite and blood, panting in short breaths, butstriving to keep himself together.

"Vince, grab the chopper, willya? Tommy, Rosalie, help Stan upstairs and make sure he's alright."

He walks over to where the two captives are trussed up and holsters his .45, drawing out his knife instead. He reaches up and cuts them free.

"Go upstairs and get some clothes. These freaks aren't gonna need them anymore."

He retrieves the sawed-off.

"Thank you," the woman said. Even for a woman of fair skin, she seemed abnormally pale, the beauty of her nakedness marred only by the spatter of blood from the nearby bodies. She stood there for a moment after being freed, making no attempt to cover herself even in the company of men, stupefied. She seemed to shake it off suddenly and uttered some kind of high pitched noise as if just then realizing the impropriety of the situation, going from pale to red as she ran out of the room to find the pile of clothes he mentioned.

"Thank ya suh," said the colored man. Throughout the ordeal, he had looked grim, and resolved, as if his fate was unescapable. "I don't know what they were gonna do to us. Kept said they were gonna feed us to the beast. Don't look like you're the police, but I don't care. Lemme go get some clothes on, and see if I can't help y'all with anythin', seein' that I owe y'all my life." He strode through the room, walking over the corpses. He followed the white woman and began to clothe himself as well.

Moretti expended the clip in his pistol and replaced it with another. He scanned the room slowly, making certain there weren't any threats remaining among those who had fallen. His eyes came to rest on the figure of the priest, then on the slab that served to seal what he had perceived as a dark pit beneath.

"I don't know what they were gonna do to us. Kept said they were gonna feed us to the beast," the prisoner had told them. What exactly did these people have trapped in there?

Pushing aside his questions for the moment, he gave his attention to more important matters. Stepping over to the doorway, he crouched down and retrieved Bishop's Thompson, making certain the weapon was safe. He glanced over Bishop with a concerned frown, realizing that he didn't know what injury had caused his friend to collapse.

He looked up at Rosalie and Cotton. "Are you two all right?" he asked quietly.

"I'm unharmed," she answered quietly to Vincent.  Her eyes flitted briefly to Tommy.  He seemed a little high-strung, but she wouldn't speak for him.

Realizing she still had the flashlight in her hand, she flicked it off and tucked it into her purse.  The gun disappeared into the bag as well and she pushed past Tommy to check on Stanley.  The scene within the small room was a grisly one.  Blood, carnage, pain, and death.  The room was thick with the smell of sweat and blood.  Beneath was an undertone of urine, released involuntarily from dying men and women.  The sight and smell took her back to the war, when bloodied limbs and the screams of the wounded filled her days.

Turning her back on it all, she squatted down beside Stan and began to examine him, removing his hat and opening his coat, searching for any sort of wound that might have pained him.  Her fingers rested lightly against his neck, feeling for a pulse, and she paid careful attention to the rise and fall of his chest.  It was strange to examine a man so closely when he normally kept others at arm's length.

Frowning, she shook her head, auburn waves bouncing against her collar.  "I can't tell what's wrong with him.  He wasn't shot and doesn't seem physically wounded.  Someone should fetch my Uncle to come help Stanley.  He'd know better than I.  Unless..."    She considered him for a moment, then opened her satchel in search of something specific.

Her eyes, strained with worry, drifted to the dead and wounded.  "What are we going to do about them?  Are we calling the police?  Are we simply leaving them to die?"  She glanced up at Vincent, brows drawn together.


19:33, Today: Rosalie Elias rolled 89 using 1d100 with rolls of 89.  First Aid.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:12, Fri 09 Oct 2015.

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 157):

"If you want to help, help carry him upstairs" Bo says to the Negro man, gesturing to Stanley, "Then tell that guy anything you know about this crowd and how you came to be here tonight." He indicates Tommy. "Give him your name and address so we can get in touch with you."

Squatting beside Rosalie, he says softly: "Just get him to the car and back to the house. And don't worry about these monsters. Vince and I will tend to them. Go now."

Moretti met Rosalie's eyes. "Rosalie, these people, if they were going to face a court, we held it here. Tonight. We showed them the same mercy they showed Jackson. Or any of the other people they murdered. Truth is, we gave them an easy death compared to what they did to their victims."

He shook his head slowly. "The police...they come down here, the only thing they're going to do is cover this up. No one is going to want it to get out that something like this was happening here in New York. They're going to want this buried."

He looked at the dead strewn around the room, then back to her. "But more than that...Rosalie, you saw what I saw." He paused, hesitant to discuss the truth of what they had all witnessed, then decided to press forward, knowing that it had to be faced. "Some of the people that attacked us...they shouldn't have been able to. They should have been in a grave. They were dead. I have no way to explain that. But I know what I saw. So do you."

"The police are just going to want to make all of this go away. Especially anything they can't make sense of."

He looked to Brandon then back to her. "Honestly, I think what he have to do is turn this place over for clues. See if there is anything that links these people to what Jackson was investigating in Africa, to the Carlyle Expedition. And then we lock this place up. We walk away and put it behind us."

He met her gaze again. "Doing that, I'll be able to sleep at night. It's not perfect, but I think it's the best we can do."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:27, Thu 08 Oct 2015.

She gave Bo's arm a squeeze, nodding as she met Vincent's gaze.  "I know it had to be done.  I'm not questioning that.  Did you see me hesitate to shoot any of these people?"  She shook her head.  "No, not after Jackson.  Not after what they did to him."

"This... was a horrible, yes, but I saw what you saw.  Some of them were..."  She shuddered.  "And the rest... blank and staring, like they'd been brainwashed.  Not to mention what they were doing in here and the people they'd taken and likely about to sacrifice to God knows what."

"So no, I don't care two cents for whether they live or die, I just want to know what you think we should do with them.  Leave them to die?  Turn them over to the authorities?  Or finish what we started?"

"I'm a bit worried about more of this cult coming after us, survivors out for retaliation." She cast a wary glance about the room again, still frowning.

"We finish them," Moretti said, "Make sure none of them leave this place alive."

He understood why Brandon wanted her to go. Moretti honestly didn't want Rosalie to witness any more brutality either, especially not the callousness he knew he and Brandon were capable of. But the choice was hers.

He glanced up at Cotton, uncertain how the reporter would handle things. He had shown plenty of courage when they had all been hard pressed.

Turning his attention to Brandon, he said, "When we're done, we need to make sure we take anything that could be important. We won't get another chance. Maybe someone could make a few quick sketches of those symbols out in the hallway."

OOC:

Rosalie, your First Aid roll to diagnose Stanley is at half difficulty, since there's no particular rush at the moment to make the check done and some things are readily apparent about his condition - therefore it's a pass. He isn't bleeding, and he has a steady, normal pulse. It's as if he's just been knocked out cold.

A second successful First Aid roll could bring him about, with smelling salts from your nursing kit.

"Good," she said quietly to Vincent.

Pulling her satchel around to her lap, she began to rifle through her supplies and pulled out a small bottle of smelling salts.  Her nose wrinkled as she uncapped the bottle and quickly held it under Bishop's nose.  The ammonia irritated the mucous membranes in his nose, triggering his inhalation reflex which took a larger amount to his lungs.  Almost immediately his heart began to beat faster as the reaction zipped lightening fast to his nervous system.

"Stanley?  Can you hear me?"  She tapped his cheek lightly, hoping to rouse him.



19:42, Today: Rosalie Elias rolled 25 using 1d100 with rolls of 25.  First Aid x 2 (80).

Bishop's bolted open and from his mouth erupted a ferocious roar like some bestial creature. His hand moved quickly toward the figure looming over him. Had it been anyone but Rosalie, Bishop might have snapped their neck. But when the big man saw her face it stopped him and he pulled her close and recovered some portion of his lost humanity.

"Thank god you are alive." He said as he embraced her. The horror he had seen had not come to pass. It had been so real as real as anything he had experienced in life.

After a moment he scrambled unsteadily to his feet, pulling Rosalie up with him and stared around the room. But the massacre had not been a dream, the room was strewn with the dead and dying. Bo, Vincent and Tommy were all alive as were the two hostages who had been tied to the wall.

"We need to finish this and get away from this place."

In reply to Stanley Bishop (msg # 166):

"Get Rosalie back to the cars, Stan. And Tommy. Vince and I will finish here."

He holsters his .38 and reloads the shotgun, placing the spent shells in his coat pocket.

"We may not have much more time."

"Tommy," he calls to the young reporter, "You did good.

"Look through those clothes out there and see if you can find anything with N'Kwane's address."

He waits for Rosalie to leave the room, not wanting her to see him shooting wounded people in the head.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:24, Fri 09 Oct 2015.

Though startled at Stanley's violent resurrection, she didn't pull away from his embrace.  If anything, she leaned against him and hugged him warmly, relieved that he'd only been unconscious.  After a moment, she pulled away to cap the smelling salts and stuff the vial back into her satchel.  When her hand withdrew, she was holding the Luger.  With a press of her thumb, she ejected the magazine and reloaded, then slid it back into the pistol and chambered a round.

"Don't be long," she told the men.  Without glancing back, she left the room and entered the hallway, pulling out her flashlight to provide some light in the darkness.

----

A few minutes later, Rosalie emerged from the shop, flashlight off, pausing cautiously just outside the door to check the street.  Keeping a tight grip on her weapon, she quickly made her way to the car that Leo and Annabel shared.  Her free arm was about a pretty woman wearing rumpled, oversized clothing and Rosalie's overcoat.  A large black man, just as untidy, followed.  At the car, Rosalie opened the back door and slid inside, gesturing for the other two to join her.

"Uncle, these two need our help."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:38, Fri 09 Oct 2015.

"Whoever you are, thank you," said the young woman as she was whisked away to the car.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:40, Fri 09 Oct 2015.

Leo sat up straight as Rosalie appeared, and he opened the door and stepped outside as she approached with the two strangers. "Yes, yes of course, I'm glad to help." He did a cursory visual examination of them before they entered the back of the car. He retook his seat in the front, though twisted around to look at them. "Ma'am, sir, I'm a physician - have you been hurt?"

"I'm....I'm..." she couldn't seem to get the words out, and looked down at her hands.

"We aight," said the black man that Rosalie had brought with her. "They ain't hurt us yet, but I think she jus' shook. You know, like they was gonna kill us. Or feed us to an animal."

Silently, Moretti watched Rosalie, Cotton, and the prisoners exit the room. As they departed, he passed the Thompson back to Bishop.

"I'm glad you're alright," he told him.

Pistol in hand, he turned his attention to the rest of the room, struck for the first time by the full weight of the death they had dealt here. He studied the fallen carefully, looking for any that showed signs of life.

What they had done was right, he tried to remind himself. Saving the lives of the two innocents, avenging Jackson, and making certain that these animals could hurt no one else. All of that had been correct, even noble in its own way.

But now? Killing those that had no hope of defending themselves?

You chose this life, he reminded himself. You chose what you eventually became.

You chose damnation.

He chambered a round in his pistol and looked back at Brandon and Bishop. "Let's get this done," he said.

Bishop had departed the room with Rosalie and the others.at the car when the girl hesitated Bishop spoke up "You are ok Miss Duncan."

Bishop did his best to show he was still steady. He had experienced horrors before, but this was different this was the sort of thing he had heard the native whisper about in far off corners of the world.

Looking the others "Best you get moving. Leave my car here. Once we are finished we will follow."

As he spoke Bishop recovered the large gasoline can he kept strapped to his running board. Looking at Tommy "You ok to stay with the car and keep a lookout?"

With the others on their way, Bishop made his way back downstairs. Putting down the gas can , he took the Tommy gun from Vincent.

"Let's see what's behind the curtain." Bishop replied as he readied his weapon.

Stepping over the body of the man who had been holding the scepter, which lay inches away from where he had fallen, and on top of the dead form of the man in the feathered cloak, Stanley saw a small alcove when he pulled back the curtain.

The alcove was six feet square and nondescript, saved for the ensconced torches that gave light to the area. At the back wall, there was a bundle of some sort that looked like it was wrapped up in the hide of a spotted wild cat of some sort.

Moretti stepped into the alcove. Cautiously, he reached down and slowly opened the bundle.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:49, Fri 09 Oct 2015.

Inside a bundle were several items. One was a book bound in green cloth over paperboard, with the title stamped on the spine: Africa's Dark Sects. Though the date of publication was listed as being only four years previous, this book was in very poor condition. The spine was broken, the back cover cracked, and multiple pages were dog-eared. There were also some marginal notes in pencil. The end paper inside the cover bore a bookplate indicating it belonged to Harvard University’s Widener Library.

Vincent also found a African mask, similar in styling to some of the ones seen above in the shop, but seemingly older and of a much more striking character. No straps, ties, or handles are present on the mask.

Also in the bundle was a headband of grey metal with strange runes carved into it, as well as a burnished copper-like bowl etched with unrecognizable runes and signs.

---

Bishop, Walter, and Vincent and make an Idea roll.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:15, Fri 09 Oct 2015.

As Stan and Vince walk toward the curtain, Bo takes a deep breath. He looks about the room and goes first to those still obviously alive, moving feebly or moaning in pain. He puts a .38-caliber bullet in the head of each, avoiding their gaze as much as posible.

Then he reloads and checks the rest of the fallen for any sign of respiration, dispensing the same justice -- or vengeance, or mercy -- to each. He mutes a short prayer for everyone who fought in the room, asking any god that might listen for absolution.

Holstering the pistol, he follows his friends behind the curtain.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:41, Fri 09 Oct 2015.

Bishop looked over the room. "Not sure what this all is, best we take it all. Maybe the others will be able to figure out something useful."

13:07, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 44 using 1d100 with rolls of 44.  idea 65.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:53, Fri 09 Oct 2015.

15:15, Today: Vincent Moretti rolled 65 using 1d100 with rolls of 65.  Idea - Idea 85%.

PM:

Moretti glanced over his shoulder as he heard Brandon begin to finish the work they had all started.

After he examined the assorted contents of the bundle, he picked up the book. "Rosalie mentioned that Jackson had been looking for this book when they visited the Harvard Library. He hadn't been able to find it. He was told that it had been stolen before he got there," he said.

He began to gather the remainder of the items to take with them. Looking back at the robed corpse, he added, "We should probably search the leader."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:44, Fri 09 Oct 2015.

Bishop looked for something to carry everything. Remembering the crate outside the door he nodded. "We should search the rest quickly as well."

"Once we have everything we can torch the place."

Leo nodded at the responses from the two and gave them a reassuring smile. "Well, we're here to help keep you safe."

Leo then looked at his niece. "Where are the others?" He was a little bit concerned, but if there was a problem, Rosie likely would have indicated that, or not returned until it was solved.

Rosalie placed a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder before looking to Leo.  "They are cleaning up and searching for clues.  The scene was a horrible one, Uncle, and not one I shall soon forget.  They were involved in some sort of obscene ritual.  There was a covered pit or well of some sort covered with a heavy stone slab that they were attempting to open.  We don't know what was inside, but I doubt it was anything good.  We can talk more on it once we're home and have everyone together."

Leo nodded at Rosie's explanation, then looked back at the two that had apparently been saved from some sort of dark ritual. "We will take good care of you both. Is there anyone that might be missing you? Family or friends?"

Cradling the gathered objects from the bundle under his left arm, Moretti holstered his pistol and crouched down beside the corpse of the robed leader. He paused, examining the scepter the man had been carrying, before carefully searching the dead man's robes.

10:13, Today: Vincent Moretti rolled 39 using 1d100 with rolls of 39.  Spot Hidden - Spot Hidden 60%.

  Annabel was about to say something in response to Dr. Elias's reply when Rosalie appeared with a young woman in tow. They both looked like hell. "Oh my, what happened down there," she asked. She listened as Rosalie told her tale of the search of the building, paling at the description of what happened down there.

  "It sounds horrible," Annabel said, shaking her head in disbelief. "You're all lucky to be alive. At least you stopped them. hopefully that will be the end of this and we'll be safe now."

  Annabel turned to look back at the shop, seeing if the others were coming yet. She wanted to get away from this horrible place as soon as possible.

Vincent finds the scepter laying near the body of the feather cloaked man. It was an elaborately carved wooden instrument with a broad head that had some runes or symbols inscribed into it. In his examination of the body and with the feathered cloak, he finds the garment to be a long feathered shawl of shimmering color. A close examination shows the feathers to be from two different birds, but otherwise there seems to be little to it - no pockets or others.

---

OOC:

If you want to know the specific birds the feathers came from, a Natural History roll would do the trick, though there's nothing else apparent to the cloak.

Moretti examined the scepter carefully. His education told him that the symbols were Egyptian Hieroglyphics, but he couldn't guess what they might mean. He hoped that Rosalie, or one of her museum associates, might be able to shed some light on the mystery.

He reached into his pocket and retrieved his switchblade. Opening it, he cut free two undamaged feathers of each type from the cloak, thinking that knowing their origin might prove useful, especially if the exotic birds were from a specific region overseas.

Pocketing his knife and the feathers, he collected the scepter and stood, drawing his pistol. He circulated among the bodies, making certain that no others showed any signs of life and searching for anything of importance amongst them.

The remainder of the room yielded no further signs of anything save the bloodbath that had just taken place. There were no clues to be found on the naked bodies of the mad revelers, nor was there anything to be found in the pockets of the clothes piled outside the room - not even the smallest scrap of paper of any identification.

The room was eerily quiet after they finished off anyone who still held onto life. It was almost hard to believe that just a few minutes ago everything had been so different.

"We done here?" Walter asks his companions in a voice that betrays his exhaustion, as they gather at the door to the room, "Stan, what do you want to burn?"

Bishop did his best to appear unshaken. "Guess that depends if we think we can keep this a secret. We could go to the cops, but it would get messy. The other choice is do what we can to make it hard to find .. All this."

"If we burn the bodies and then leave them sealed in down here it may take some time before anyone finds it. That said it seems like we could seal this place like a tomb, and cover the trap door. Odds are if any of the cult survived they wont wanmt anyone finding this mess either. But it might be worth going to a hardware store and getting some dynamite and collapsing this place."

"We did manage to rescue the missing girl. That could go a long way to clearing us with the cops. But in the end there are too many dead for the D.A. not to look for scalps."

"What do you think?" Bishop asked as he gathered up what they had found.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:09, Wed 14 Oct 2015.

Moretti let his eyes slide over the carnage once again. "I think we burn the bodies. Not just for the police. But..." He looked at the remains of those who had been long dead before they had ever set foot in the place, yet somehow had still been able to walk among the living, to attack them. "I think we need to be sure they can't become something else." He shook his head, still struggling to reconcile the reality of what they had all experienced.

His eyes moved to the sealed pit. "This place was a front. For this...cult. A curio shop in a Harlem alley that was probably rarely visited by anyone isn't going to get much attention by closing its doors. Still, we need to seal off the trap door. Hide it as best we can. The longer this place goes undiscovered, the better."

Walter shakes his head.

"I dunno, these naked bodies and the stone walls and floor aren't going to burn very well and anyway a fire down here isn't going to get much air. Or if there is a draft from below, the smoke'll draw attention. I wish we'd brought some quicklime."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:14, Wed 14 Oct 2015.

Moretti nodded, seeing Brandon's point. "It wouldn't be too hard to lay my hands on some. I could get it. Make a return trip."

"If you can get dynamite we can just collapse this place. No body will ever spend the time to dig it out." Bishop said. Considering Vincent's contacts he knew it was not a big ask.

Bishop glanced at the cover that had slammed back in place. He was not was in there but guessed it might be more of those .. zombies. Having seen Hargrove, he had no intention of of lifting the lid and seeing the horrors it contained.

OOC in any case we will dispose of the bodies an seal the place as best we can.

Moretti was silent for a long moment. "For now, let's just focus on sealing this place up," he said, "Make sure no one can find that trap door. Or make their way down here."

Walter goes over to the chain and pulley and examines the mechanism.

[ooc - looking for a way to remove the chain from the mechanism so that the stone cannot be lifted]

Bishop seeing Walter at the pulley imagined the horrors concealed below and lost control and barked "Do not open that Bo!"

20:57, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 20 using 1d100 with rolls of 20.  Natural History 10% The feathers.

20:57, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 59 using 1d100 with rolls of 59.  Anthropology 25 To recognize the culture.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:58, Thu 15 Oct 2015.

Tommy had stood there stunned as the carnage ended, almost as swiftly as it began. Blood and corpses littered the floor and as he looked around he felt his stomach churn. He half stumbled to the the edge of the room feeling his shoulder throb from the bite, before abruptly his belly twisted and he threw up.

He stood there dazed, feeling breathless despite the lack of movement as the adrenaline in his veins slowly subsided. After a few moment he wiped the residue of his vomit on a sleeve and looked up, steeling himself with a grim determination against the scene.

Clearing his throat he picked his way through the corpses, drawn by the trapdoor in the floor.
"What the hell is this thing?".

Already barely keeping himself under control when Bo began examining the pulley, Bishop coiled to strike when Tommy reappeared.

Bishop turned on him and spoke sharply "Tommy, go upstairs and keep look out now."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:02, Thu 15 Oct 2015.

"Stanley, take it easy," Moretti said, "I'm sure Bo doesn't want that thing open any more than you or I do. I think he's looking for a way to make sure it stays closed."

Tommy looked up and met Bishop's barked order with an unflinching glare. Around them lay the bodies of men and women they had murdered, wives and husbands who would never see families again. Why the hell had the negro's attacked them like that? Even as they had been cut down the cultists had refused to act like any sane being. He had to know why

"Rosalie will warn us if we need it.". His voice was calm, determined.
"These people died to protect whatever was in here.". He nodded toward Bo, reloading his weapon as he did so, and slowly drawing his aim down toward the trap door. "Get it open. We need to know what is so important to them. What the hell brought them together.".

Moretti stepped in front of the reporter. "Mr. Cotton, listen to me for a moment. Please."

He gestured toward the pit. "I understand why you want to know what's in there. I do. You're in the business of digging up the truth."

"But hear me. One of the prisoners said these people were going to feed him and that young woman to what lives in there. You don't have to have a college education to figure out that, whatever the hell it is, it's dangerous."

"We've all been through plenty tonight. Honestly, we're damn lucky to all be alive. I think we've collected a lot of clues about this cult. These people that murdered Jackson. That's what we came to do."

He shook his head. "Opening that pit up is just going to put us in more danger. We need to leave it alone. Keep it sealed. And hope that whatever is down there ends up starving to death."

Whatever the witch doctor had done to him, Bishop had seen .. more that that lived through unspeakable horrors, things that had made France look like a paradise. Now he had to listen to Tommy talk about seeing more. Bishop was fighting the urge to put a bullet into the reporter's thick skull to shut him up.

Pointing at one of the corpses "See that thing. That was Abraham Hargrove.  The guy whose apartment we checked out. He did not get it either. He ended up a zombie. A fucking zombie. We ain't opening that lid. I don't want to see who else is in there.  I don't want to see who else is a fucking zombie. We are going to finish cleaning up this mess and leave and pray to God its over. Pray to God no one finds this place or what we did here. This isn't a story any more. This is a nightmare."

Bishop hoped Tommy would get it. He hoped he would not need to shoot him and leave him down here with the dead.

"I got five gallons of gas we can pour into that hole. We can burn up what ever is in there but we ain't taking a look."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:51, Fri 16 Oct 2015.

Walter takes the chain on the far side of the pulley up at the ceiling. He pulls the slack through until the end loops over the wheel and the entire length falls to the stone floor with a clatter. Going over to where the chain is attached to the stone block, he draws his .45 and fires at the chain, severing a link.

"Whatever's down there, let it starve."

Walter 'Bo' Brandon rolled 5 using 1d100 for Shoot .45 revolver 60x2=120%.
Walter 'Bo' Brandon rolled 4 using 1d10+2 for Damage x2 for Impale = 8.

He holsters his revolver, then coils the length of chain and slips it over his head and shoulder.

[ooc - Bo will shoot the chain as often as necessary to sever it.]

"What the hell!".
Tommy looked around in frustration. At least what Vincent said made sense and for that he was greatful.

"If there is some sort of damned thing down there, then someone, someday is going to open that trapdoor and find it. We cant just pray it stays hidden.". He desperately wanted to believe what Bishop said was true but standing so close to the trapdoor...it sang to him...begged to be explored.
"Either that's gonna be some innocent, in which case we just signed their death warrant". His face twisted to a sarcastic smile. "Didn't we do well.".

"Or its gonna be some other fucker.". His anger rising he kicked one of the bodies. "Some other twisted bastard like this lot. Someone who will use it or feed it or whatever the hell they do...to recreate this whole fucking mess.".

"If there is something down there we gotta kill it. But what if there is more down there. Wasn't this the sort of thing Jackson was investigating? What the fuck were these people doing down here, why did they kill Jackson? We need any clue we can get. We have to know.".

He looked around desperately, his body flagging as his shoulders slumped, resigned to helplessness. Knowing the argument was lost his eyes fell downcast and with a grim expression he mumbled. "Whatever.".
"Lets go. I gotta wash this blood off me.".
This message was last edited by the player at 13:04, Fri 16 Oct 2015.

Silently, Moretti was grateful that Brandon had brought the debate to an end. Even so, he felt badly for Cotton. The kid had noble intentions and had acted with bravery in circumstances that would have sent most people running for their lives. Moretti knew what it was to live with something you couldn't settle with morally. But it was an imperfect world, full of imperfect solutions.

He looked at the others. "Let's get this place closed up."

"Yes...I have family. My parents. They...I can't wait to see them," she said.

"I ain't got much family left, to be truthful. My wife died of the consumption early on and I never did get around to remarryin'. Just did my own," he said.

"But I owe y'all a debt o' gratitude. Those damn Africans in there, they just snatched me up off the street one day. Tried to brain wash me at first, but it didn't work. I prolly shoulda pretended, but it was too late for that. I'm a good church goin' man, ya see. I wasn't gonna go in for no African gods or whateva they was sellin' so I suppose they decided to kill me like they was gonna do for her."

"Name's Isaiah. Isaiah Carter." He offered a hand to Leo.

"That settled." Bishop said. With no chance of the lid coming off, Bishop felt himself settling down.

"Lets make sure we grab everything that can tell us something and get out of here." Bishop added ready to go.

Bo throws his arm around Tommy's shoulders.

"You did good, kid. Real good."

  Annabel listened to the 2 survivors speak of their experience; not believing what she was hearing. She put her hand to her mouth in shock.

"That's...that's horrible. Why....why would they do this? In New York of all places. I mean things like this are unheard of in a civilized place...right?" She looked a little confused how these cultists could operate in a modern city.

Having gathered all the items he could find that were of importance, Moretti stepped over to Cotton and clapped him on the shoulder. Smiling, he said,"Bo's right. You showed a lot of courage in here, Mr. Cotton."

Bishop knew the others were right, Tommy had held his own. Hell he still wanted more of it, they had to stop him. Bishop just knew he was too close to the edge. Had he had to endure much more he might have lost it and that might have spelled the end for all of them. Hell just a few seconds he was afraid he might have had to take drastic measures.

Bishop looked over the room and then back at the reporter  "They are right, you did good kid."

Bishop, holding his Tommy gun in his right, grabbed what he could and moved toward the door.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:09, Sat 17 Oct 2015.

Rosalie looked from the cult's victims to her Leo.  "The others should be finishing up soon and have Stanley's car to get them back to the house.  I think we should get them back home -- either to theirs or ours -- but somewhere away from here, regardless."  She inclined her head at the man and woman next to her.  "Which do you think would be best?"

As the group moved toward the door, Moretti let them move past him, so that he was able to exit the ceremonial room last. Closing the door behind them, he reached into his pocket, drawing out a leather thong with a pair of keys dangling from it. "The old man with the scepter had these around his neck." he explained.

Stooping down to examine the door, he could see that the lock was a fit for the larger of the two keys. After he locked the door and tested it to make certain it was secure, he smashed the doorknob with the butt of his pistol several times, until it broke free. Collecting it, he held up the key. "This goes in the East River," he said, "Let's get up top."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:47, Sun 18 Oct 2015.

"You can just drop me a few blocks away on your way back. I don't live too far from here," he said. "I don't know much about this young lady right here."

Andrea spoke quietly and timidly, giving an address in the Upper East Side - not too far from the Elias residence.

Leo nodded at the responses from the two rescued from the shop. "We will be happy to drop you off on our way home. How did you come to end up here, anyway?" Leo wanted to make plans to check in on them both as they'd probably need a good psychiatrist, but it seemed like he might be heading out of town soon. Perhaps he could check on them both the next day.

Andrea had difficulty speaking, much less about this. "I...it was my fault. I...shouldn't have.." She drifted off into muttering something incoherent and stared out the car window, away from the scene.

Isaiah Carter had directed them to near where he lived and had been dropped off, though he gave Dr. Elias his address in case there should be any trouble with the law, or any other services he could render them in exchange for having saved their lives.

Andrea Duncan was in no fit condition to be taken straight home, spattered in blood as she was, and so they had brought her back to the Elias residence first, had a bath drawn for her, given her some proper clothes, and then Avery had prepared a nice hot drink for her with a splash of brandy. She had been rather laconic about the events of that night, shaken up as she was, but Leo had managed to soothe her frazzled nerves and managed to have a brief conversation with her. She didn't seem to fully understand everything that happened, but understood the gravity of the circumstances. She said she didn't want to get them into any trouble for rescuing her, and as a measure of her profound and repeated gratitude offered to be a witness if the cops ever found out.

Much later that night, after Stanley, Thomas, Vincent and Walter returned, the disparate members of the group that had gone into Harlem with a grim purpose reconvened in the sitting room.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:46, Mon 19 Oct 2015.

Bishop drove carefully on his way back to the Elias home. As he drove he did his best to focus on the job at hand.

"We won't want anyone matching the guns to those bodies. Some we can change out the barrels and the firing pins, but for most might be easiest to dump them in the river." Bishop said as he drove.

Back at the Elias home, Bishop turned the headlights as he turned onto the block and killed the engine and glided up into the drive way.  Leading the others into the service entrance, Bishop was glad to be back home.

Heading to the study, Bishop sought out Dr. Elias and the others to make sure they were home safe and to finish the job by doing what was needed to protect himself and the others from a police investigation. Finding them all in the sitting room, Bishop removed his hat and coat before speaking.

"Glad you all made in home safely." Bishop said after he looked over the room he noticed the colored prisoner was missing but did see Andrea Duncan present.

Looking over at the young girl, whose picture he had seen in her parent's room, Bishop was grateful they had acted when they did "Miss Duncan. My name is Stanley Bishop. I'm a private investigator. I spoke with your parents a few days ago. They will be relieved to see you again. I can drive you over in the morning.

"I know you have been through hell, but for your safety and ours it would be best if what really happened remains with a secret. Perhaps we can come up with something to tell your parents that will close the matter." Bishop offered a smile to the girl, who was not much older than his own daughter would have been had she not perished.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:43, Mon 19 Oct 2015.

Bo removes his bloody galoshes outside and dumps them by the ashcan. Their disposal can wait for morning. He goes straight up to his room and secures his pistols and gear in his bag. He drops his filthy overcoat and trousers and gloves on the floor. He washes his face and hands before donning his bathrobe over his other slacks.

Then he goes down to the sitting room, hearing Stan's voice, he pauses outside the door. What the hell? They brought that girl here? Ditching the guns won't help much with an eyewitness who knows all about us.

Entering the room, he goes to the liquor cabinet and pours himself a tumbler full of whiskey, downing part of it before he even turns around. He stands in a corner and listens.

The girl flinched a bit as she looked at Bishop. "I...I understand. Honestly, I don't even know where that place was or who those people were. It's the last thing I want to talk about." She seemed to have gathered her composure since having returned to civilization.

"I understand your need for secrecy. You all rescued me even though we don't know each other. The last thing I want is for you to see any trouble from it. And...justice has already been done so there's no need to involve the police. We can tell whatever story you'd like."
This message was last edited by the player at 12:45, Mon 19 Oct 2015.

Moretti removed his gloves and overcoat. He carefully hung the garment on a hook near the service entrance, then made his way into the sitting room. He found a spot against the wall not far from Brandon and remained standing, his arms folded across his chest.

He listened as Bishop spoke to Miss Duncan. Thankfully, the girl seemed calmer now, as though some of the shock of what she had experienced had settled. Bishop was the right one to guide her through a story for her family. Moretti was accustomed to lying, but usually only about his own actions.

Briefly, he let his eyes drift around the sitting room. For the first time, he honestly felt as though he did not belong here. That he had somehow violated the peace of this home, of this family, by bringing some of the darkness of his profession among them. He tried to remind himself that they brought down a group of predators, obtained justice for Jackson, and rescued two innocents by taking the actions they had. But somehow, those thoughts did nothing to quell his conscience, his sudden sense of alienation.

He stayed silent, letting the others speak. He had already contributed all he had to offer back at the JuJu House.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:01, Mon 19 Oct 2015.

"May I provide you some refreshment, Mr. Moretti?" the Englishman asked. "I gather that some ardent spirits may be in order after the night's ordeal." He presented on a tray a crystal decanter filled with an amber colored liquid and a few empty glasses. He would of course make the same offer to the others in the room.

Moretti nodded gratefully. He poured himself two fingers of whiskey in one of the empty glasses, taking it from the tray. "Thank you, Avery," he said quietly.

Leo understood the young woman's desire to not talk too much. But any story they concocted should probably be as close to the truth as they could get it.

Both calmness and care were projected through Leo's voice as he tried to engage Andrea. "How long has it been since anyone has seen you, Miss Duncan?"

"I don't know...the time kinda runs together. At least a couple of weeks," she said.

"How exactly did you end up there? Miss." Bo speaks from his corner, not moving to show her his face.

Maybe she knows something that can lead us to others. That bunch, even Feather Robe and Sceptre Man, probably weren't the head of this snake.

She looked over at him, then turned to Stanley since she couldn't seem to make eye contact with him. She sighed, and began reluctantly. "To make a long story short, I was seeing a man named Mukunga - to upset my parents. He was the one in the feather cape. After a while he tried to brainwash me into joining his cult. I almost did it...but I refused. I suppose some kind of warning bells started going off in my head. Anyway...after that, he drugged me and took me to that basement - wherever that place was."
This message was last edited by the player at 18:50, Mon 19 Oct 2015.

Bishop took a scotch and listened.

"Maybe the easiest think to do is just have you show up at your folks. Claim you don't remember anything. I was just by their house, wouldn't surprise me if they called me. Dr Elias can see you and we can control the story. All you have to say is they drugged you and you don't remember anything."

"Even if your folks call the police, we can work our selves into the mix. Can you just stonewall and stick to not remembering?" Bishop asked the girl with the voice of a cowboy talking to a skittish mare.

17:25, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 82 using 1d100 with rolls of 82.  Psychology 65. try and read the girl.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:26, Tue 20 Oct 2015.

Rosalie fell into something of a daze upon their return.  Only half listening to the girl's tale, she sat with her gaze unfocused, staring into space while she replayed the night's events.  It seemed like a dream, a horrid dream, but still a dream.  And she'd only had the briefest glimpse of the room before the shooting and the yelling and screaming began.  A cup of tea, forgotten and stone cold, sat on the table beside her.  While she'd removed her coat, gloves, and hat, she'd not changed or undressed for the evening.  Her pocketbook sat in her lap with one hand resting protectively on the fabric, fingers unconsciously tracing the outline of the gun tucked inside her purse.

Jackson had taught her to shoot, but she'd never had to shoot a person.  While she didn't think any of her shots had been enough to kill any of the crazed cultists, she still had a hand in their deaths.  Were she not a coward, she would have stayed to help the men finish what they'd started, burying a bullet in the skull of those that had killed Jackson for the sake of their pagan rituals.  Instead, she'd run away like a coward, using a convenient excuse to escape the madness at the first opportunity.  She wasn't quite sure how to feel about it, though.  She was a nurse, not a killer, but she'd had absolutely no compassion for the animals writhing in pain on that bloodied floor.

The arrival of the others pulled her from her private thoughts and she sighed with relief as all of them entered.  While Stanley did his best to make some sense of the girl's story, she rose to join Vincent and Bo near the wall.  Her fingers remained tight about her purse as she carried it with her.

"Were either of you injured?" she asked quietly.  She should have asked them once the shooting was over, but had been rightly preoccupied with other things.

"Just some bruises," Moretti answered, keeping his voice low,"Nothing that can't be left to heal on its own.”

He regarded Rosalie for a long moment, unable to mask his concern and his guilt for the part he had played in what had transpired. He glanced down, noticing her tight grip on her purse. "Are you all right?” he asked her.

In reply to Rosalie Elias (msg # 236):

"I'm fine, Ro," Bo murmurs as Stan and the girl continue talking.

He grabs a cut-glass tumbler and pours some whiskey into it, passing the drink to Rosalie. "There's soda, if you want to cut it."

She frowned at Stanley and scowled slightly. "I realize you just rescued me from quite a helpless position, but there's no need to patronize me."

Andrea sighed. "I don't think I'll be able to pretend that I've forgotten everything that happened in the last two weeks. How about something simpler? Someone kidnapped me and held me in a warehouse. He wore a mask and I couldn't recognize him. I escaped - with your help if you want to put yourselves into the story. And I'd prefer to go back tonight if possible. I've been away long enough as it is."

She accepted the whiskey from Bo, but waved off the offer of soda.  Alcohol would be a godsend to blunt the evening's experience, and she certainly didn't want it diluted.  She knocked back the tumbler to down the contents in one gulp and set the glass aside before answering Vincent.

"I'll be fine.  It just wasn't what I expected.  They wouldn't stop, even when they saw the others dying.  That isn't natural.  After what they did to Jackson, I knew they'd be ruthless, but that...  that was something evil.  They killed Abraham and made him into a...."  Her throat tightened and she trailed off, shaking her head in dismay.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:45, Wed 21 Oct 2015.

Bishop was a bit taken a back by the reply.

"You are right. But as our fates out in your hands please indulge me?"

"Where is the warehouse? Could you hear any noises? How did you escape? How come you smell like soap? We you wearing those clothes the whole time? Was anyone being held with you?" Bishop's said in a tone mimicking a badgering detective.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:56, Tue 20 Oct 2015.

"Do you realize that after you repeat eight questions in a row I'll probably have forgotten half of them?" she said.

Bishop had asked the questions with enough time for the girl to answer. No she seemed to playing games. "Miss Duncan, our lives depend on your ability to pull this off. You seem awful cool. "

"I'm starting to think maybe weren't a prisoner after all."

"Answer the questions."

"Where was the warehouse? Bishop asked. If the girl could stand up to a grilling here, maybe should could stand up to the police.

19:12, Today: Stanley Bishop rolled 55 using 1d100 with rolls of 55.  persuasion 71.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:45, Wed 21 Oct 2015.

Moretti reached out, putting a comforting arm around around her shoulders. "Rosalie...you're right. It doesn't make sense. Not what those people were doing. Not how they responded. Not...what we saw down there. None of it."

He took a deep breath, trying his best to heed the encouragement he was trying to give her. "But we put a stop to it. Made sure those people can't hurt anyone else. We even saved a couple of lives in the process. And we all came home."

He paused, trying to find words. "I think that's what we have to focus on. At least for now. The good that came out of it. The things we can see that do make sense."

He glanced down at her empty glass. Managing a smile, he asked, "You need another one of those?"

She leaned against him for a moment, nodding at his offer. "Probably, but just enough to go fuzzy 'round the edges.  I don't want to wake up with a headache tomorrow."  There were so many doubts and misgivings bouncing around in her head, but she tried not to give in to any of them.  It would only drive her crazy with regret.

Her gaze shifted between Vincent and Bo.  "Did the two of you find anything of note after I left?"

Tommy had arrived back at the house in grim silence along with the others. Leaving the place behind did little to ease the massacre from his mind, instead thoughts of the sealed tomb strewn with men he had helped murder haunted him.
His eyes were dark and exhausted as they arrived back at the Elias household. His shoulder throbbed from the bite and he greatfully allowed Avery to lead him up to the bathroom where he could at least wash and cover the wound. The stinging heat of the shower brought welcome respite from darker thoughts and it was several minutes before he emerged partially refreshed to rejoin the others.

Quietly Tommy joined the trio of Rosalie Bo and Moretti. There was a darkness that threatened to swallow him if he remained alone much longer.
"Mind if I join you? I could do with some company right now.". He asked gently, catching the end of their conversation.

I think that's what we have to focus on. At least for now. The good that came out of it. The things we can see that do make sense.
Moretti had a way of calming things and the young reporter tried to take the advice to heart. There was no doubt those they slain had some sickness, were rotten to the core. No doubt that somehow feathers and his people had been responsible for the spate of killings Cotton had been reporting on over the last months. Still, so much more was left unanswered. Putting that aside he cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Listen guys, back there...I'm sorry.". His eyes darted between Bo and Vincent. "The trapdoor. I get why we didn't open it. And maybe I shouldn't have pushed it. I just...". He hesitated. "I just wanted to say I'm glad you were all there and we made it out.".

He reached for a drink wincing at the wound in his shoulder.

Leo watched the grilling of Andrea, a young woman who had been drugged and kidnapped, stripped naked, and then basically forced to come back to the Elias home. "Back off a bit on the grilling - you're being a little overbearing. Let her get her relax a bit - worse comes to worse she answers that she doesn't know or doesn't remember to most of these sorts of questions."

Bishop spared a glance to Dr. Elias and stepping closer to spoke to quietly  "Your life is not on the line. You didn't leave the car."

"Dr. Elias, doesn't her behavior strike you a little odd?" Bishop said. The girl was not acting like someone who had been kidnapped by a bloodthirsty cult and saved from being fed to zombies.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:13, Wed 21 Oct 2015.

In reply to Rosalie Elias (msg # 245):

Walter shakes his head, looking at the others.

"I don't think we know yet. I want to find out where N'kwame lived. I don't figure it was that place. Maybe there's something there that will lead us to his higher ups. We cut off the serpent's tail tonight, but we need to find the head and chop that off! I don't care if it means going to the ends of the earth, this corruption must be CLEANSED!"

Realizing that he is shouting, Bo places his hand over his mouth, but his eyes are still wild. Wordlessly, he thrusts his glass into Vincent's hand and hurries from the room.

His footsteps can be heard receding up the stairs. Then the slam of the door to his room.

Moretti poured Rosalie another two fingers of whiskey and returned her glass to her. He nodded in response to her question. "We did. There was a bundle of items, wrapped in an animal skin, hidden behind the curtain. A mask and some other things." He paused, then added, "The book that Jackson had been looking for at Harvard, Africa's Dark Sects, was in the bundle as well."

"I also took the old man's scepter. You need to have a look at that, too. It's covered with Egyptian Hieroglyphics."

When Cotton spoke, Moretti smiled and nodded. "Don't worry about it, paisan," he said, "We were all doing our best just to hold it together in there." He was about to give the reporter another friendly clap on the shoulder, but halted when he saw Cotton wince. "You might want to let Rosalie have a look at you," he advised.

When Bo began shouting, Moretti's eyes widened briefly. Setting his and Brandon's glasses down on a nearby table, he rushed after him. When he reached Brandon's room, he knocked softly on the door. "Bo? Bo? You all right in there?"
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 13:30, Wed 21 Oct 2015.

Andrea had been on the verge of a slap when Bishop levied veiled accusations against her, but held back as Dr. Elias came to interfere in the proceedings. She remained silent while the two men spoke.

Leo raised an eyebrow at Stanley's response. "Before I start making assumptions that may or may not be correct, what exactly is it that you are implying about me?"

"She just doesn't seem to be have like a girl who has been kidnapped for two weeks. But I have to admit I am probably a bit on edge. Maybe I'm seeing something that's not there." Bishop replied.

"Maybe if her family calls us or even the police you can offer to treat her. Help shield her from the cops and keep an eye on her."

Leo narrowed his eyes and nodded. "My professional opinion is that she is acting very similar to someone that has been through significant trauma. So I would say that yes, she is acting strangely - but it's the same kind of strangeness that I've seen in other patients I've treated. I'd be happy to counsel her, should she wish it, but I'm not really planning on being in New York in the near future."

   Annabel was a little more than shocked to see the state of the others as they emerged from the shop. From the blood spattering their clothes to the hollow look in their eyes, they looked like that had been through hell. Rosalie in particular looked a but numb, Annabel wondered what the poor woman had seen. She wanted to say something, but had to drive the car back to the house so stayed silent.

  When they got back she listened to the explanations or the group and Miss Duncan on what had happened to them. It all sounded so horrible, like a nightmare that would not seem to end. But it seemed to be over, at least for now. The cults presence in the city looked to have been ended.

  Annabel didn't care for Mr. Bishop's tone with the young woman; poor thing was traumatized, what did the man expect? She was about to say something when Dr. Elias jumped in, reprimanding the man.

  Annabel looked over at Rosalie. She wanted to go talk to the woman, but some of the others were already doing it. She decided to leave them alone, maybe go over later. Instead Annabel went over to Miss Duncan.

    "Please, you must excuse Mr. Bishop for his actions," she said to the young woman, trying to reassure her. "It's just we have recently been through a lot with this cult and are desperately trying to find answers to so many questions." Annabel continued in her gentle tone;  "Anything you could tell us, any scrap of information, would be most helpful."

Tommy smiled weakly at Vincent's words. He was exhausted and overwhelmed but the calmness his new friend exuded was a reassuring light in the dark. He took a swig of his drink.
"Paisan.". He smiled. "I have no idea what that means but I'll drink to it. I'm just glad you were there with me.". he reached to chink his crystal glass against Vinny's. For a second he felt at home, the warm mahogany of elias' study, the solidity of friends... before Bo began to speak.

At first the man spoke softly, and yet slowly his words grew in anger toward crescendo. Around them the clock seemed to stop its rhythmic tick tock and the light flickered as if in admission that the world was not so bright. Tommy opened his mouth to say something, suddenly caught by the realisation they were all torn by what had happened. He felt his heart reach out to a fellow lost soul and earnestly he echoed Bo's words.
"Exactly! We don't know. We can't leave it like this, can't walk away with even the slightest risk this thing isn't dead. The trapdoor, N'kwane's house...he must have had resources...". Tommy wanted to say more but the rage within Bo seemed to grow, to flare until as soon as it began the solid New Yorker had vanished from the room.

Looking at Rosalie there was little else the reporter could say.
"Damn.".
Silently he reached for the bottle to top them both up.

In reply to Dr. Leonardo Elias (msg # 254):

"All right Doc, you are the professional. " Bishop replied.

Turning back to the girl "Pardon me, I wound a bit tight at the moment. Just know that they will likely badger you for answers. I drop you as soon as your ready."

In reply to Vincent Moretti (msg # 250):

The bedroom door opens a crack, enough for a red-rimmed eye to peer out.

"Hey, Vince. I'm beat down to my socks, pal. Gonna turn in."

The door closes and the key turns.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:21, Thu 22 Oct 2015.

Despite his concern, Moretti didn't try to push it. Certainly one thing they all needed was some rest.

He made his way back downstairs and walked back to the servants' entrance. He retrieved the crate that held the items they had collected from the JuJu House and carried it back to the living room.

He set it down where Rosalie and Cotton could easily see its contents. "Bo said he's going to turn in for the night," he reported, "He probably just needs some sleep." He glanced over at Leo. "Still, I think it might be good if Leo could talk with him in the morning."

He took the scepter from the crate and offered it to Rosalie for her inspection. "Rosalie, would you happen to know anyone in the zoology field? Maybe biology? Someone with some expertise in identifying animals?"

Rosalie was left gaping at Bo at his outburst.  Her expression of surprise slid into a deep frown as he rushed off upstairs.  With Vincent away, she wordlessly accepted a refill from Tommy and took a long drink, though not with the haste with which she downed the first.  Her eyes drifted to his injured shoulder.  "Yes, you really should let me have a look at that before you turn in for the evening.  The human mouth is rife with bacteria and a bite like that will surely fester."

She'd just taken another drink when Vincent returned with their finds.  Setting her glass aside, she took the scepter in both hands to examine it, twisting it about and letting her fingers run over the surface of the carvings.  She shook her head after a moment and glanced back up to the men.  "I would need to study this further to ferret out a translation, perhaps even consult some reference materials.  It is a very strange piece, however.  I wonder why this was in the man's possession and what ties it has to the events in Egypt."

Gesturing to the feathers, she nodded.  "There would undoubtedly be someone at the museum that could identify these for you.  I have one or two people in mind that we could visit."



22:17, Today: Rosalie Elias rolled 73 using 1d100 with rolls of 73.  Egyptian Hieroglyphics (41).

She nodded. "I can just say I can't remember and cry if it gets too difficult," she said. "But I'm not worries. My father's a lawyer, I'm sure he'll be able to keep people away if I say I don't want to talk to them. In any case, I'm ready now. The sooner I can be home the better." She stood and departed with Stanley.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:06, Thu 22 Oct 2015.

 Annabel watched Andrea go and frowned in disappointment. She was hoping the woman would have been of some help but this looked not to be the case. She could not blame the poor woman after what she had been through. Maybe she will contact them later with something after she has had some time to think.

  Meanwhile, she herself was pretty tired. Annabel glanced at her watch. 3am, wow, it was late and she suddenly realized how drained she felt even know she had not really done much. Seeing that the others were turning on, she followed suit saying her good nights. Tomorrow would be another day to deal with what happened tonight.

Leo held up a finger as Andrea said she was ready to go. "I'll go with you. I think everyone else should get some rest. Let's talk in the morning when everyone's mind is, er, rested." He was about to say right. But that didn't seem accurate, somehow.

Bishop escorted Dr Elias and Miss Duncan out to his car. Driving tge short distance to her house, Bishop dropped her off and then tailed her home to make sure she got inside safely.

"We will need to speak with that colored fellow as well. Make sure he is steady, also find out how he ended up there. Depending on the man, might be worth finding some way to bringing him into the fold."

"Same may be true of Miss Duncan at some point down the road." Bishop said to Elias as they drove.

Leo nodded at Stanley's commentary. "Unlike Miss Duncan, I don't think he was reported missing. Hopefully he can return to his life without arousing too much suspicion. Something we can deal with tomorrow, as I think everyone's beat right now. Time to get some rest - there will be much to discuss in the morning."

Whether people accepted Dr. Elias's hospitality or went home, the night passed slowly, and though sleep came to them all, it didn't come easily. It was the kind of night for nightmares, of awaking suddenly and struggling to return again to sleep. It was the kind of night during which men and women desperately wanted to cling to the blanket of sleep despite knowing the terrible dreamscapes it might contain, because even then it was better than the unknown and horrible mysteries of the waking world. It was the kind of night when daylight was hoped for as a boon and a savior from the darkness, whether or not sleep had come.


When they reconvened the next day at the appointed time, Avery had dutifully prepared a sumptuous repast, in the hopes that unusually good food might help to dispel the gloomy mood that seemed to have fallen over the place. The food was arrayed on a large table in the sitting room, so that any who desired it could take a plate on their own and then choose to sit wherever they might. On a central table were arrayed the items that Vincent and the others had obtained from the strange place they had been the night before.

Bishop staring straight ahead as he drove was quiet for a while, then said out of no where "I saw some horrible things down there. One of them did something. He made me see things .. things that will haunt me. I never spoke with you after the war, or even when Elanor and Emily died .. but this was different."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a hard night, and the big man tossed and turned. At one point he woke up in a cold sweat after a terrifying dream.

The next morning Bishop slept later than usual, but eventually dressed and had breakfast before joining the others in the sitting room.

Walter watches from the window as Stan and Leo depart with the Duncan girl. He is still watching when they return in the growing predate light. His eyes are red-rimmed and his cheeks damp with tears. He chews on a tattered handkerchief.

His heart is filled with black hatred at those who created the obscene abomination of this cult, this twisted parody of religion. Never before had he shot down unarmed men. Never before had he killed women. Never before had he murdered helpless wounded enemies. He feels justified in taking extreme measures to eradicate the threat to humanity, but still it twists in his gut.

"...bastards...sons a bitches...bastards..." he mutters as he watches the sun rise.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:14, Fri 23 Oct 2015.

It didn't work.

Each time Moretti had traveled out of the country, he had made a habit of walking the streets. Doing so had always helped him to reset his thinking, giving him a sense of comfort by being surrounded with the city he had known since his boyhood.

Walking home from the Elias house had provided him with no peace. As his mind had churned with memories of the JuJu House, he found himself searching the dark streets for any hint of threat, realizing that the once familiar avenues of his neighborhood now seemed alien and menacing to him.

His flat felt hopelessly empty. He slept little, dreaming of Jackson and Africa when he finally slumbered.

As he drank coffee he called his mother, assuring her that he would at least come by before the day was done. He also called Benny Collura. Found out that Masseria had a lunch meeting and a poker game at the Villa Tammaro. Moretti asked Collura to let Masseria know they needed to talk. "Tell him it's about that place in Harlem," Moretti explained, "He'll understand."

The walk back to 73rd offered no solace. The light of day had not changed his dark perception of New York. Working for Masseria had led Moretti to believe he'd already seen the worst the city could offer. But as he sauntered back to the Elias home, he understood that the belief had been an illusion. As his eyes slid over storefronts and tenements, he found himself wondering what horrible secrets might be concealed within them.

When Avery answered the door, he mustered a smile. "Good morning, Avery." As he stepped into the quiet house, he asked, "How is everyone?"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:40, Fri 23 Oct 2015.

Rosalie was exhausted to the point that sleep eluded her for some time.  She watched the figures on the street below, Bishop and her Uncle, Vincent walking home, and the anxiety within her stomach grew.  Troubled by what they'd seen and what they'd done -- what they'd had to do, she finally climbed into bed and dozed, waking at every slight noise, heart hammering in her chest.  Jackson's Luger had been liberated from her purse and now occupied a spot on her nightstand.  Reaching for it, the touch of steel was a grim comfort that allowed her to drift back into restless slumber.

When day dawned, she rose, washed and dressed, trying not to dwell too much on the haunted figure that stared back at her in the mirror.  Fluffing her curls with her hand, she finally pulled herself away, though she dreaded going to breakfast.  She knew the mood would be somber and uncomfortable, but her growling stomach vetoed any thoughts of skipping the meal after she'd already gone without dinner the night before.  Looking smart in a long dress of pale gray and boots, she stepped out into the hall and headed for the stairs, but paused a moment at one of the doors.

Leaning close, she rapped softly on the door, listening for any response.  "Bo?  It's me.  Open the door."

Leo patted Stanley on the shoulder. "Let's talk in the morning, Stanley. Talking through what happened will probably help everyone. You did the best you could under the circumstances."

---

21:04, Today: Dr. Leonardo Elias rolled 59 using 1d100 with rolls of 59.  Sanity (80).

Leo didn't sleep well - his dreams made rest difficult. He awoke with a start at an earlier hour than he'd hoped - at least he was refreshed. But did he really see...what he thought he saw?

He dressed in casual clothes before going downstairs to see who might be awake at this hour.

   Sleep came fitfully to Annabel, although she did not know why. Maybe it was the sight of all that blood on the others as they returned, or the stories they and the survivors told of their ordeal. when she did finally fall asleep, she had the weirdest dream. It has felt soooo real and had freaked her out to the point of her waking with a gasp, breathing hard and covered in sweat. By that time it was late enough to get up so Annabel washed up and made herself presentable as best she could wearing a simple blue dress and putting her hair up in a bun.

  As she came downstairs, she saw most of the others were awake already. Grabbing a simple breakfast and coffee to wake herself up, she joined the others. "Good morning," she said sounding a little tired still. "although it doesn't feel like one. I had the strangest dream about those cultists, it felt so real, it was horrible. I think all of these tales of those cultists are getting to me."

In reply to Rosalie Elias (msg # 270):

Rosalie can hear a firm tread approaching the door, which swings in to reveal Bo dressed in his suit and tie, shaved, and with a big Bo-smile on his face. Only, his eyes... His eyes are red rimmed and seem to look off into an unseeable distance, the thousand-yard-stare she remembers from some of the wounded men she cared for 'over there.'

"Morning, Ro," he says in a hearty voice, "Let's see what's for breakfast."

He heads downstairs.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 12:19, Fri 23 Oct 2015.

He was putting on a brave front, and Rosalie knew it, but she wasn't going to push him to open up.  She placed a hand on his arm as he passed and followed him down the stairs.  Seeing Vincent in the foyer, she nodded in greeting.

"Vincent, come join us for breakfast.  I'm sure Avery has put out a generous spread, as usual."  She offered the butler a thin smile, always appreciative of his efforts.

Leo's gaze drifted toward Annabel as she spoke, and he rubbed his chin a bit in thought. "I had a dream as well, a dream that I was Jackson just before and during his murder. Once we've finished eating, I will share what I saw with the rest of you."

He looked around at a lot of haggard faces. "Avery has outdone himself yet again. Let's enjoy some food and then talk."

---

Once the others had eaten, Leo shared parts of what he had seen last night. "I was Jackson - pacing back and forth in the room, muttering about the evidence I had collected concerning the Carlyle expedition. I was talking about Carlyle's books, presumably the ones we retrieved, and talking to Kensington before going back to London. A knock at the door drew me away from my contemplations as I expected to see my friends and father on the other side of the door. But instead I saw the men that ended up being my killers. Two negroes and a white."

"You all saw what they did to Jackson's body, and I imagined how it was done from his perspective. I expect that some part of my mind has not yet moved on from Jackson's murder, even though those responsible have been eliminated."

Avery greeted Vincent at the door, and quietly explained the mood of the house before bringing him in to join the others for the meal that he had lain out. After they had eaten, he moved about unobtrusively, quietly cleaning up after them, refilling cups of coffee, and the like.

In reply to Dr. Leonardo Elias (msg # 275):



  Annabel looked shocked at Dr. Elias's words. "That sounds like the same dream I had," she blurted out in surprise. "How....how could that be?" The young woman looked a bit uncomfortable as she took all of this in, not sure what to think.

Bishop stood by and listened. Having finished his coffee he opened the cigarette box on the table and lit up a smoke.

While the doctor and Annabel spoke of their dreams his mind was working on cleaning up after last night's work.

The guns as well as any clothing worn by anyone needed to be collected. The cars needed to be cleaned. With the cooperation of the staff they should be able to account for there where abouts.

The talk of Elias' murder did little to benefit Bishop's thinking, so he put his thoughts aside and listened.

"This cult .. they had .. has real power .. like voodoo. Abraham Hargrove was there, they had done the job on him, the same way they had killed Jack. But we were not there to stop their voodoo. They some how made Hargrove's corpse walk again .. made him into some kind of zombie." Bishop said.

"At least we spared Jack that fate. Maybe the dreams were Jack's way of helping us solve this mystery and ending this evil." Bishop said.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:45, Fri 23 Oct 2015.