In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 101):

Clarke stashed his revolver and followed Mike's cue. "Come on," he said to the boy. "This is no time to be weeping."

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 102):

You rouse Jimmy enough from his shock that he is able to lead you down the wide boulevard and to the edge of town.

"Hold on, hold on," says the professor panting slightly from the brisk pace. "We can't just leave Gustav in the gutter! The poor man deserves better!"

"That wasn't Gustav back there Hiram," says the father consolingly. "Whatever came out of that bog was simply using his body as a vessel."

The cobblestones beneath your feet disappear, replaced by hard packed dirty as you leave Aberdeen. Despite the late hour Jimmy seems comfortable navigating the winding road. After about an hour Jimmy leads you off the main road onto an overgrown dirt path that cuts through the trees. After a few mins you come to a clearing that is sparely populated with tents and camping equipment.

"Here is where we decided to set up base camp Professor," says Jimmy. "Gustav, William, and Carl took the survey equipment into the bog with them but they thought it was best to leave the rest here."

The professor walks over to a crate and sits down, his head in his hands. "What have I done? What am I going to tell Gustav's family?..." The professor trails off.

The father places a hand on Clarke's shoulder. "This has been particularly trying for Hiram. I think until now the occult was nothing more than an intellectual curiosity for him. But now he has seen it come to life with his own eyes. We should be thankful he still has his wits. I'll take care of him and Jimmy while you figure out our next steps."

Mike looked around the base camp for anything that might be useful. Ammunition, lanterns, kerosene, dynamite, maps and notes, hell even cigarettes. He wasn't about to be caught unawares in the middle of the bog.

"Hey Jimmy," he said to the boy, "which way into the bog did they set out to earlier today?"

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 104):

"Professor," Clarke called out while Mike searched around for supplies. "Who knew about your expedition? How many of the town's folk were involved in helping you?"

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 105):

Mike
"Carl said they were following the stones into the bog," says Jimmy. "There is one here at the camp." He points over to the edge of the camp to an obelisk-like stone. Lighting a lantern, Jimmy leads Mike over to the object, holding the lantern high to illuminate it. "I can't make heads or tails of it but Carl seemed to."

About waist high, the obelisk seems to be natural and unnatural all at once. Despite its exposure the stone seems to have been impervious to the ravages of time and nature. On closer inspection the stone is covered in strange symbols and images that tug at the corners of Mike's mind, memories that he can't quite grasp.

Clarke
The professor jumps at being addressed directly. "I... Ummm... Well the town knew what we were about, it was no secret. But Mr. McGowan and his astronomy club helped us with the survey equipment. In fact he was keen to come along but I declined his offer. I know some locals still fish the bog but they have mostly kept to themselves."
This message was last edited by the GM at 04:41, Sat 18 Jan 2020.

Mike kneeled to examine the stone trying to make sense of the esoteric symbols and images.

14:40, Today: Jrodimus rolled 49 using 1d100.  occult check. Fail.

He shook his head, as he expected his mind turned up blank despite the tugging at the back of his mind. "Hey Professor, Clarke." He waved his two companions over, "So these lead into the bog. Can you make sense of them at all?"

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 107):

"Sorry Professor," Clarke said. "I am required." He strolled over to the obelisk and attempted to take in its entirety. As if it was speaking to him, Clarke understood what the monument wished to convey. They had to follow the symbol to the next one.

There was also something there ... something subtle about the other features. They represented some sort of calendar, and indicated today was a significant moment. A moment for what, Clarke was unsure, but it made him feel uneasy.

"The directions are easy enough," he said to Mike. "We follow this to the next one and so on. But, something is happening today. And I am unsure whether we should stay away or rush to it. Perhaps we could ask the Professor about key dates in the local calendar?"

Mike nodded and scratched his beard as he rose. He gestured to the professor, "Hey Professor, is today any sort of special holiday for the cult or similar cults?" he called out to the older gentleman.

Holidays...hell I can't even remember what day it is. Mike mused to himself as his fingers reached for a cigarette.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 109):

"Holiday?" says the professor. "Not that I am aware. But cults like these tend to operate around fixed timeframes. Perhaps this signifies the window of communication with their deity. Much like ancient mythology, these figures tend to coincide with the seasons. Maybe we are seeing the apex of one."

The swampy air was so thick with humidity that Mike could feel sweat beading on the back of his neck. He lit the Lucky Strike he had fished out of his pocket and inhaled deeply. The smell of the moss covered trees and swamp water reminded him of the swamps back in Brattleboro, where his father and grandfather before him had kept the stills.

Then it dawned on him, it was around the time for the Summer fair, when his family was working overtime at the still to meet the demand of the influx of out of town farmers who would come in to show off their prize live stock and make trade deals. Mike remembered how his father would keep his farmers Almanac on him to read so he could blend in and keep up with latest home brews and local gossip, a tradition that Mike kept until he moved to Arkham. The time of the fair, he suddenly realized, was the time of the solstice.

"Would it being the Summer solstice have any significance?"

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 111):

"I don't know how we missed it," says the professor drawing a hand over his face. "The solstice symbolizes the ascension found in many great spiritual teachings. In some cultures, the resurrection and return of the Sun to the Mother goddess is celebrated. In others the summer solstice symbolizes the ascension of the Great Father Spirit. I can only imagine that the cult is taking this time commune with their god. Perhaps Gustav...." the professor pauses for a moment. "Perhaps Gustav was part of this."
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:26, Sun 19 Jan 2020.

Mike turned back towards the bog and took a drag off his cigarette. "I have a feeling they're trying to bring something here. Gustav was just the beginning."

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 113):

"You don't think that..." the professor pauses as if he can't bring himself to say the words. "You don't think they did the same to Carl and William?"

"A ritual to raise a body takes time and resources. They are likely being held until the cult's next opportunity to commune with their god," interjects Father Hennessy.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 114):

"I doubt their purpose is to bring back a man who can barely defend himself," Clarke interjected. "Perhaps they were practicing the ritual for when all the pieces are assembled."

In his head, Clarke cussed out Jack for bringing them to this forsaken place.

"It is unwise of us to barge in there. The old man was terrified of this cult, which means there must a number of them. However, we must stop this ritual. Surely, there must be some way, some tool we can use, some field position that will allow us to draw them out and save our companions. And hopefully, they can give us a fuller picture of this cult's ultimate goal. Are there any journals or notes from their expedition lying around?"

Mike turned and looked around for any notebooks or rucksacks that might contain some notes or maps.

23:54, Today: Jrodimus rolled 35 using 1d100.  Spot hidden check. Fail.

Unable to see anything helpful he scratched his head, "I don't see anything. You guys anything?"

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 116):

Clarke followed Mike's lead and glanced around the campsite. He tried to locate some notes or diary records that the team had left behind. They must have known they were in danger and could be killed. Surely, they were not stupid enough to leave nothing for their inevitable successors.

Roll for spot-hidden: 13 - Pass

Something caught Clarke's eye.

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 117):

Buried in a small pile of papers weighed down by a stone, Clarke finds a rough map which is obviously an early sketch. It shows the bog surrounded by a grove of trees which is separated from the basecamp by a large clearing. The rough etching shows the bog divided into three parts. The outer ring seems to be labeled as shallow although the exact measurement doesn't  seem to have been taken. The next is labelled DEEP!!!. In the middle is a rise that has little to no details.

"That was the spot they were to survey," says the professor who has risen to look over Clarke's shoulder and pointing towards the rise on the map. "I believe that some of the locals still use the outer area for fishing and trapping."

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 118):

"How long do you think we have to prepare before the event occurs, Professor?" Clarke asked.

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 119):

"If they aren't already gone we must still have some time. Such a ritual takes immense power. They were likely hasty in their attempts with Gustav otherwise he would have never broken free. But I fear that precisely because of that they are in great danger. The cult must assume we would come for them." The professor runs a hand over his face. "But I can't imagine Carl and William are being treated well. For all we know they could be being tortured as we speak."

Mike looked at the map in Clarke's hand, "Looks like we'll need a boat, or is there a path to the island?"

He took a drag off his Lucky Strike, "Also, they may be expecting us, but perhaps we can ambush them somehow. Stealth might be the best way if we can pull if off."

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 121):

"Perhaps a local left a skiff," says the father. "I can't imagine them hauling such a craft back and forth."

"And without knowing the lay of the land stealth may be a tad difficult," the professor says seeming to have greatly calmed down. "I don't suppose any of you have training?"

"Well, we weren't exactly special forces. But hopefully the thick trees and dark can help conceal us. We'll have to move slowly until we find a skiff."

Mike looked up at the setting sun burning orange over the horizon. "We should get ready to move soon. Who's coming?"

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 123):

"To arms, my friend," Clarke said, feeling none of the confidence he had inserted into his voice. "Let us bring our tale to its inevitable end."

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 124):

The professor shifts nervously. "I'm not proud to admit it but I think I may have left my fighting spirit in Zanzibar." He holds out a hand that trembles slightly. "I'll stay here with Jimmy and... uh... Hold down the fort as they say!"

"A moment my sons," says the father as he begins to rummage in his bag before pulling out a tightly wrapped scroll of parchment. "If you ever find yourself injured... Well, may the words of the angels heal you." He holds it out.

In his old life, a mere three weeks ago, Mike would have scoffed at the Father's suggestion. But tonight he took the scroll with a tight smile and real appreciation in his heart. "Thank you Padre. Keep these guys safe while we're out."