CSM Jones and the Perkins brothers headed upstairs, looking a little nervously up at the ceiling as they went. It had seemed to solid before, but maybe the tough construction had actually saved them until now. The escaped prisoners elected to wait in the ground floor main ballroom. There, they could retreat below if all else failed. They would be alive down there, if perhaps trapped.

Using the dead seemed distasteful at best, horrific at worst. But they were coming to understand they were dealing with unholy things far outside the human ken. There was a certain symmetry there, the cultists had summoned something indescribably horrific in order to feed to it the bodies of the innocent, now they were the food. The rest of the corpses gave no assent or condemnation, the dead were beyond judgement. Blood pooled on the scarred hardwood floor and their stench filled the room.

Bathony dragged the corpses out into lighted area, then fired his rifle to gain the attention of whatever it was on the roof. It didn't take long!

Something landed with a flutter of immense leathery wings on the corpse below. It could be a dragon out of myth or legend... if so, it was an indescribably foul looking and noisome creature, larger than an elephant! A head larger than a horse's displayed a mouth full of cruel teeth and proceeded to feed, ripping at a body while holding it down with a raptor's leg.

Keeper's Note: SAN checks for everyone looking!

There are times when Molly distinctly disliked herself.  This was one of those times.  She kept thinking to herself "I'm not going to look...I'm not going to look...I'm not going to look."  Then what does she do?  She listens to that voice inside her head, not the horrific one but the investigative one, and looked.  She always had been told that Mungo would be the death of her sometime and Molly wondered if that time was now.  Yet.....

Part of Mungo wanted to scream but knew she shouldn't.  Here was a living legend.  A dragon?  Did they really eat their food like the pictures of old said?  She didn't think they really exited until now.  Here.  Right before her own eyes.  She wanted to take a picture.  Should she take picture?  Yes.  She shouldn't but she had to.  To scream or to shoot with the camera.  The camera won out.  It was too good of an opportunity to pass up.  The camera was right there and before she knew it, Mungo had snapped a picture off.  It was so nice that the Count had fired at it so that it was looking right at the camera too.  Talk about the perfect time to snap the picture.

Cynthia jumps when the creature slams into the corpse. Everything seems so sudden, her brain simply refuses to process, beyond 'there it is, next step is to shoot it'. And so without further thought, she begins firing.

Cynthia is on the ground floor, where-ever the other surviving victims are (probably the Dining Hall), firing through the window bars.

JM is as prepared for the sight of the horrific creature as one might be.  Perhaps his time in the Near East has opened his mind a bit or perhaps the events of the night have merely dulled his sensibilities to the outre.  Regardless he managed to contain his fear and loathing of the creature.  Lining up his powerful Webley he fires and strikes the creature.  He calls out; "Talley ho!"


22:02, Today: John-Marc Falcon rolled 52 using 1d100. Shoot - 55% to hit.
22:02, Today: John-Marc Falcon rolled 49 using 1d100. Sanity.

OOC: Not sure of the damage for the pistol.

As the beast landed and began devouring the corpse the sight became to much for the Count. He momentary froze with a startled look upon his face, a word from Mr Perkins at his side and he again acted.

He raised the rifle to his shoulder and with a pained expression on his face he let loose a long burst of fire followed by a second.

The creature's foul repast was rudely interrupted by a fusillade of shots! The great hall was filled with the deafening crash of gunfire, so loud it drowned out the sound of shouting, although not the monster's shrill cry.  Many of the bullets hit, although most seemed to ricochet off its noisome hide. One did strike it in the head, spraying black ichor. It staggered back a little, leaking its foul-smelling blood, then regained its balance on clawed feet and roared at the house.

Coming from the kitchen door, Darlington burst into the great hall behind them at a dead run, panting and out of breath.

"GAWD ALMIGHTY! Watch out! There's TWO of da bloody fings on da roof!"

Just then, a shadowy form made of great beating leathery wings and horse-like head with tooth-filled mouth hovered outside the upper windows. It reached a clawed foot into an upper window and plucked out William Perkins. The poor soul screamed in absolute terror and his dropped rifle clattered to the ground outside!

Keeper's Note: Everyone's fired this turn so next turn's actions! Using automatic fire, Bathony gets one long burst of 10 shots in the turn (so makes 1 attack roll in a turn). I didn't specify the ground floor windows had bars (the shutters were closed when you looked outside) but sure, why not?
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:30, Tue 26 Mar 2013.

Distracted by the appearance of the second beast, JM fires and misses cleanly.

As the Inspector entered the room the Count momentary took his eyes off the creature only to realise his mistake as William let loose with a blood curling scream.

The Count stepped out of the door and aimed as he let loose another volley of shots.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:19, Wed 27 Mar 2013.

There was another loud volley of shots, both from JM and the Count on the ground, and CSM Jones and the other Perkins brother on the second floor. Several rounds struck the beast, and it looked like many, if not most, struck the beast. (It was difficult to tell if any struck poor William.) Bathony, in particular, was satisfied to see his burst walk up the creature's torso. It was impossible to tell in the darkness what damage, if any, was dealt.

The nightmare beast holding William didn't seem to be very inconvenienced. It clamped it's teeth into the helpless man's leg. Blood spurted down his trouser leg but the limb was not severed. "OWWW! Bugger me that hurts! Get it off, Georgie, get it off!"

On the ground, the other monstrosity had recovered its balance and struck at Bathony. All the Count could see from the corner of his eye was a tooth-filled maw bearing down on him as the beast spread its wings for balance and propelled itself forward...

Narrator's Note: I think at least a Dodge roll is appropriate!

The Count retreated back into the relative safety of the doorway and changed the magazine on his rifle. He then raised it for another burst at the beast.

As the count dodged the sweeping attack of the monster, JM moved to cover him, firing a shot into the creature as it moves past.

20:06, Today: John-Marc Falcon rolled 5 using 1d10+2. Damage.
20:06, Today: John-Marc Falcon rolled 25 using 1d100. Bang!  65% chance to hit.

Cynthia continues to fire and pump the shotgun, filling the window with smoke and noise - but failing to do anything productive beyond adding soft cover to the battlefield.

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg # 204):

Mungo took a deep breath and berated herself for getting her knickers in a bunch while such good examples of womanhood like Cynthia was doing all the work.  That just wouldn't do.  Looking at Cynthia as her example, for surely if she could shoot at the big beastie then so could Mungo. Mungo let her camera fall down on her chest by it's straps and picked up her weapon to shoot at the big monster with the frightfully large teeth and bad breath and hoped she would hit it this time.

Of course if she did hit it, she wasn't totally sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing because it might draw it's attention to her.  Oh dear, the the situations that Mungo leads Molly into.

There was a further fusillade of gunshots.

The beast that struck at Bathony was right outside the front door, screaming its rage. JM, Molly and Cynthia fired away at point blank range, at a range where they might see the whites of its eyes, were its eyes not black and filmy as oil.

With professional detachment, Molly's own keen reporter's eye noted that JM and Cynthia's shots didn't seem to be penetrating. She could see where the pellets and even the heavy .303 bullet bounced off its thick noisome hide with nary more than a dimple. Of all the rounds that had been pumped into it there only seemed to be a few wounds, small punctures and scratches.

The one on the ground stepped forward and kicked! The heavy front door crashed inwards, barely missing Bathony as he reloaded. It stretched it's neck and forced its head inside. Cynthia was closest to the door and it turned towards her. The abomination's head was like a horse's, save for much bigger. And hungrier! A mouth full of wicked teeth snapped at Cynthia but she moved aside, just in time.

Molly aimed and discharged one barrel of her shotgun at its head, and by the grace of God the pellets struck one of its dead-looking eyes. Even this wound was not enough to kill it, but it pulled back and disappeared outside. With a flap of wings it disappeared upwards, leaving nothing but a foul stench inside and out.

Meanwhile, there was more shooting upstairs from CSM Jones and George Perkins, more screaming from William as he was dragged upwards out of sight.

Mungo gave herself a small "Finally" when she saw her shot had some affect and then shouted over to the others.  "Your bullets are bouncing off the hide.  I hit the eye and it hated it!"

JM keeps his weapons ready.  "We'd need cannons or anti tank rifles to make a dent in those things.  That or knowledge of the ritual to dispel or control them.  I'd guess that they were somehow summoned by the cultists.  We need to get the hell out of here."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 208):

The Count worked the bolt on his rifle chambering a round from the magazine he just loaded before firing off a burst at the monster as it moved off. He cursed as the rifle jammed, as he worked the bolt he said;

"We need to attack them from the attic with our grenades, any attempt to flee through the grounds would be suicide."

He made his way to the Inspector;

"What where the conditions outside inspector was there any sign of Mr Singh."

He beckoned the others to follow as he dashed up stairs.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:30, Sat 06 Apr 2013.

Cynthia fires off one more shot, hitting the monster she can see, before following the Count up the stairs. She shoves a few more rounds into the magazine as she goes, and tries to find a good place to protect him, whatever he's doing, against attacks.

JM closes and bars the door and then follows the others upstairs.  "These things are all but immune to our gunfire.  I'd hate to tangle with one in the air.  Even the twin Vickers machine guns would have trouble with one of those creatures.

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 211):

Mungo followed the others and shook her head.  "They are as stubborn as you gentlemen.  Don't hit them in their heaviest armored places.  Go for the head and openings like eyes or even perhaps the mouth if it opens and doesn't breath fire or something."

Since Mungo was towards the back she just reloaded her gun and didn't fire this time.  Her track record wasn't the greatest and she really didn't want to hit someone who was on her side. While she was reloading she momentarily paused to add, "Just don't ask me to throw a grenade.  I throw like a girl."

JM nodded and smiled at Molly.  "With the way you were shooting Molly we're far better off with you continuing to handle the gun." He reloads as he heads upstairs.  "Definitely keep shooting for the eyes or mouth.  Maybe the belly is vulnerable as well."

At the top of the stairs the Count stopped and asked:

"I have a trick we would preform with these German grenades during the war. Would you all please deposit what you have here."

He then began removing the heads from the sticks and using several lengths twine he began tying six grenade heads to each individual grenade.

"The Germans call it a "Geballte Ladung" and used it during trench clearing and raiding... We adopted it very soon after."

He also called over Mr Perkins and the CSM Jones and advised them on the new plan. He did not meet Mr Perkins eyes.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 214):

Mungo finished reloading as she listened to the Count.  "Oh my.  That looks like it would be quite...devasting...Count.  I would say I'd like to hear that story but, of course, at another time."

The Count continued with a second grenade.

"I do not think you would Miss Fuller they are truly terrible stories."

It wasn't clear that the parting shots did anything. There wasn't much of a door left to lock. JM kind of closed it as best he could, more like leaned it against the frame.

They headed upstairs.

More cracking and sounds of destruction came from the roof. Cries, perhaps from William, still came from above, albeit getting weaker all the time.