Seeing Zadok start to panic, Mike did his best to try to calm the old man.

"Come on now Zadok, we won't go there if it's too dangerous. But we're curious and like I said looking for some good stories for back home. What's in the bog that you're so afraid of? What sort of tales do you hear about it?"

13:07, Fri 03 Jan: Jrodimus rolled 71 using 1d100.  Persuade. Fail.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 52):

"It's not what is in the bog... It's what comes out." The old man's voice is so low that you can barely hear what he says. The sound of clinking glass as a barmaid clears a nearby table causes him to jump. "Look, you fellas seem nice. You bought me a few rounds. So the least I can tell you is..." He looks around the pub suspiciously. "Don't go there."

"Who are they?" Mike asked Zadok, "What did they promise?"

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 54):

"I can't say." The old man's eyes dart about the room. "They could be here." Pushing his seat back he begins to rise wobbly to his feet before falling back down. From his pocket he withdrawals a handkerchief, blotting his brow. "It... it... it's just my nerves. Nothing a good stiff drink can't fix," he says looking around.

Mike bent down to help Zadok back up and into his chair, "Relax ol' fella. We'll get you another beer." He motioned to the barmaid to bring another. While he waited for the barmaid to come with a drink and Zadok to catch his breath, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it before offering one to the old geezer.

He quickly scanned the room to look for any suspicious looking patrons or anyone who might be overly interested in their conversation.

00:49, Today: Jrodimus rolled 75 using 1d100.  spot hidden. Failed.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 56):

Still breathing slightly heavily, Zadok weakly waves away the cigarette and instead grabs the new pint and takes a few gulps. "A man can have only have so many vices and I already spent mine on the lasses," he says with a weak smile. With the old man seemingly calmer Mike is able to resume his seat. Zadok takes another drink from his glass and lets out a contented sigh. " The long moment of silence is filled by the bustle of the pub. "What is it we were discussing? I was telling a story about..." his brow furrows as he tries to remember, perhaps due to the alcohol.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 57):

"The Shifty Lad," Clarke interjected. "And old places filled with ancient tales of evil. Perhaps like the bridge you mentioned earlier ..."

He called the barmaid over and ordered some nibbles for them to eat.

Mike looked at his cigarette between his fingers, "Huh, I thought these were supposed to be healthy." He took a swig of his own drink, "You were telling us about things that go bump in the night around Aberdeen." He smiled reassuringly to let Zadok know that he was a friend, "You said they promised to keep the things in the bog, but the things keep coming out of the bog." Mike concluded the story, hoping to confuse the old man into spilling his guts.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:07, Sun 05 Jan 2020.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 59):

"Oh yeah... You guys are new here so you should be careful to not say anything that might get you in a pickle. And a bad one at that. You see," the old man pauses to take another drink. "The deal is that we keep our mouths shut and the cult leaves us alone. They take the tourists and climbers, the few wanderers they come across. In exchange we are safe at night. The police quash any investigations if they might come around." As he pauses to take another drink you notice that the bustle of the pub has lowered to a mere buzz. "The deal has been in place for ages. I remember me Ma explaining it when I was a wee lad. But those... things that come out at night." He shudders as he takes another drink and you notice the pub is nearly silent...

Zadok's voice seemed to thunder over the silence of the pub's dining room, though his volume hadn't changed a bit since he started to finally regale Mike and Clarke of the cult's secrets. Mike blew smoke out of his nose as he started to laugh to cover up his actual belief. "So, you mean to say that there are monsters in town at night? Well, we'll be sure to stay at the inn at night and to not wonder about," He said smiling.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 61):

"Monsters at night aren't your only worry." Zadok drains the last of his pint. "They are in Aberdeen, the cult. They could be your neighbor, your butcher, who knows. That's how they keep the silence. But if you keep your head down, mind your business, well.... It's not my skin."

The old man's head drops briefly as silence fills the pub.

His head rises up again as he blinks around the pub before returning back to his empty glass. "Mary?... Mary?... Where is my drink?" The barmaid looks at you expectantly?

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 62):

Clarke motioned for the barmaid to bring one more tankard. "Baker cultists?" he said, hearing his voice fill the room. He felt as if everyone was listening to him, and he did not want to waste this opportunity. He had to convince them Mike and him were bumbling tourists who enjoyed a ghost story, but not the ghosts. "What next? Candlestick-maker demons?"

"My kind friend, I love a good tale as much as the next American. Perhaps, if I may be so humble, more so. But this bog sounds like something out of a seedy pulp. Even Hearst would die laughing, and he brought us a few wars with his love of the salacious. I enjoyed your first story about the The Shifty Lad, and I will definitely admire the bridge, but I think you had one too many pints by the time the bog came up." He tapped Mike on the shoulder. "I think we should give it a miss. It sounds like it's a case of three shrubs and an old-woman's over-active imagination."

Turning to the barmaid, he said, "If you could be so kind as to bring me the bill and see this kind soul home, I would much appreciate it. I think he has over-guessed his drinking fortitude."
This message was last edited by the player at 05:29, Mon 06 Jan 2020.

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 63):

"I don't think he will be having another," says the barmaid nodding towards the old man who is now slumped over the table, head on his arms and slightly snoring. "Don't pay him much mind, we will look after him till he sobers up."

Looking around Clarke sees that the patrons of the pub are all engaged in conversation at their tables, seemingly unaware of what the party had been discussing. After a quick calculation you are able to pay your tab and leave the pub, entering the sun of the late afternoon.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 64):

Clarke turned to Mike and said, "Well, what is the plan? Shall we admire this bridge or head back to the hotel? I would prefer not to discuss certain things in the open."

Mike threw his cigarette to the ground and stomped the embers out with his foot. "I reckon we should head back to the hotel. It sounds like we're going to be having a night time excursion and we should make sure we're well rested. Which way was it again?"

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 66):

"They come from the other side," Zoe said as she made a spooky face at Clarke. "The other side. Whooo!"

Clarke ignored her and tried to recall the directions back to the hotel. He had only had one and a bit beers, so his brain was still quite functional. "I believe it is this way," he said, pointing to the right.

Zoe skipped ahead of him. She seemed to be enjoying the change of scenery and the rugged charm of the small town.

Lara stood beside Clarke. He could feel her weighing her choice of words. "What are you going to do, Clarke, if she comes out of the bog? It won't be Zoe, but it'll look like her."

Clarke pulled at his jacket and trod in the direction he had pointed to earlier.

Mike walked in step with Clarke wondering what more horrors lay ahead of them. He figured that they should have a plan, but it seemed they were walking in blind as they often did. "How should we attack this?" He asked his old friend.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 68):

"Until we learn more from the expedition party, it is best not to plan on limited information, " Clarke replied. "However, from what I have gleaned, the entity we are dealing with has vast supernatural power and is seeking to cross planes. This is not the war, and we cannot kill it. However, we may be able to remove the tools it needs to cross over."

He looked around the town. "Unfortunately, I am at a loss on how to do this. It is at these moments, I wish Byron was once again with us in a full mental capacity. This is the type of obscure knowledge he used to love researching. What is your perspective? What do you believe Jack was hoping to accomplish by dragging us into this quagmire?"

"I have no idea what Jack was thinking with this whole damn thing," Mike threw his hands up in a shrug, "And hell, we haven't even seen Jack. Just his...essence...or whatever that was when we were in the dreamland."

"But in any case, there's a chance that Daniel got here before us and knows we're on the way. We're gonna want to be ready for a fight. Which means, we might want to get some more guns and ammo."

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 70):

Asking around some of the locals point you in the right direction and you find yourselves in front of one of the few wooden buildings in the town. Seemingly made from shorn birch trunks, the building sports a large sign that reads  R. MacLeod & Sons. Opening the front door you find the store is full of rows of tackle and hunting equipment. Behind a polished counter is a large read haired man. He is polishing a large shotgun and the smell of oil fills the store.

"Madainn mhath!" says the man setting the gun on the counter. "How can I be of help today?"

Mike set his hands on the counter as he looked around the room, "Hello there, friend! The two of us are in town for a short little hunting trip. I'm wondering if you'd happen to have a Remington 30-06 we could purchase with ammo to match?"

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 72):

"I like a customer who knows what they want, makes my job easier. I'm sure I have one around here somewhere." He begins to rummage behind the counter, placing a couple of boxes of ammunition on the counter. "What matter of beast are you on the hunt for? Not much game around here unless you are willing to travel a bit farther." He pulls out a rifle from behind the counter and raises it to look down the sights up at the ceiling. The man pulls back on the bolt handle and checks the chamber to ensure it's clear before offering it to Mike.

Mike took the rifle and inspected it, running his finger along the bolt to check for carbon residue and checking the sites and trigger well for wear or ill fitted parts. "Well, we were thinking of trying to get us some venison. How much for this one?"

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 74):

The man looks at Mike appraisingly. "Well you fellas seem in a rush and I don't want to take up the rest of your daylight. Plenty of buck out there for you. You can take it off my hands for $110." He then hefts a box of bullets. "And I'll throw in one of these on the house."

Mike sighed and pulled out his wallet and took out a $100 Bearer's Bond that he kept on him in case of emergencies. "Well, nobody carries that sort of cash around, but I do have this. Call it even?"