In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 76):

The man takes the bond from Mike and inspects it, going so far as to even hold it over the flame of a candle to check for authenticity. After a few moments he seems satisfied. "Consider it yours!" he says with a smile which soon fades into a look of sympathy. "Look, if you fellas have a hankering for meat I've got some I can part with for a much cheaper price?"

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 77):

"As kind as your offer is, sir," Clarke said, "I think we are also looking for the sheer joy of spending a few days on the hunt. It has been a long time since we have undertaken it. I, myself, have a few requests as well." He pulled out a small scrap of paper with some items hastily scribbled on. "Would you have, or know where to get in this town, .38 revolver automatic, its ammunition, a hand axe, a dark lantern, an electric flashlight, some 12 hour candles and a waterproof match case. Also, I'm looking for a water bag."

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 78):

The man takes the scrap of paper from Clarke and quickly scans the list, poking his tongue out of a space that used to be occupied by a tooth as he thinks. "$65 and its yours," he says placing the scrap on the countertop. "I got what you're looking for. But..." he waves a hand around the shop. "Its going to take a bit to put together. You want to wait or I can have it delivered somewhere?"

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 79):

"Ah, you seem to have caught me in a bit of bind," Clarke said. He rifled through his wallet, looking for something. Carefully, he pulled out a slightly tattered traveller's check. It was one of two and payable to bearer. The amount on it was for $70.

"Would you accept a $70 traveller's check from Thomas Cook?" he asked the man. "If not, I can cash it myself and pay the exact amount, but it would take a bit longer." He held it out to the store owner.

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 80):

For the first time a look of irritation crosses the man's face. He takes the bond and carefully inspects it. "You fellas ain't taking the piss out of me are ya?"

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 81):

"No," Clarke said. "The hunting trip was an afterthought. And when we saw this shop, we thought we could make inquiries about supplies. If you prefer, I could put a $25 deposit down on the goods now, cash the check and then return with the rest of the money when the supplies are ready. But you would need to point me in the direction of a financial institution. As you can guess from our accents, we are out-of-towners."

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 82):

The man seems to think to himself for a moment. "If a man doesn't trust his fellow man who can he trust?" he says smiling broadly. "If you just give me a moment I'll get me boy to help." He puts his fingers to his lips and whistles. There is a loud clatter from the back room and a young boy emerges, his face and fingers stained with gunpowder and gun oil.

"Oi, I was just puttin' back the muskets like you told me to," says the boy.

"No lip now boy, we have customers," says the man handing over the slip of paper. Quickly scanning it, the boy begins to zip between aisles gathering package after package. In sort order the two have it all bound together in a tidy bundle.

The man pats the supplies warmly. "Be sure to tell your friends. MacLeod won't steer you wrong!"

Mike shouldered his new rifle, "Thanks, we'll be sure to tell 'em." He turned to Clarke, "shall we meet up with them and prepare for the trip?"

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 84):

"Let us proceed with angels behind us and demons in front," Clarke said.

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 85):

Leaving the gunsmith, you realize bartering for supplies had taken longer than you thought as the setting sun lets you know that evening is near. Strangely, there are few people on the street and most of the vendors and hawkers you saw before are gone. You make your way to the restaurant where you left the father and the professor, your steps echoing off the cobblestone street.

Reaching the restaurant you notice that curiously all the windows and blinds have been shut. Opening the door you find the restaurant brightly light with numerous candles and fires adding to the illumination as a number of locals enjoy their meals.

"No Ronald, they should be back by now, I have to go and..." You hear the professor and father before you see them. They are seated in the back of the room and seem to be in a bit of a heated discussion. The professor, red-faced, has risen from his chair. "You may be willing to sit there but it is my reputation on the line here. If something has happened..." The professor stops mid tirade as he spots you making your way towards the table.

"By the Queen, have you found anything?" the professor asks ushering you into seats at the table.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 86):

Clarke sat down. He could sense something had gone horribly wrong with the expedition. He was not surprised; the professor had approached it all wrong. He had assumed, as the trio of them had at the start, their ancestors were easily scared folk and made up fabrications to justify the horrors of life. What the professor needed to understand was that the horrors were alive.

"If your men are not back by now, it is likely they are dead," Clarke said. "And there are things in the bog that come from the other side."

Mike set his new rifle down on the table, "And things that die there don't stay dead. It appears that there is a demonic bargain in place here. If your crew is alive, we'd better go looking for them. Professor, you should stay here with Father Hennesey. Be sure to look after Byron."

He sat at the table and lit a cigarette. His thoughts racing at the long night ahead of them. "We'll need food, water, and a map with directions."

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 88):

The professor pales slightly. "Nonsense! I'm sure they are just a bit... delayed is all." He shakily resumes his seat. Father Hennessy gently pats him on the shoulder.

"It will be ok my friend," he says.

The professor takes a deep breath and seems to steady himself. "The bog is roughly 3 miles north of the city. There doesn't seem to be much access aside from small dirt road. The few locals that frequent the area often use.."

BANG

The professor is interrupted by the crashing of the front doors as a young boy rushes in. "Professor?!... Professor?!"

"What are you about Jimmy?" says the professor jumping to his feet. "What's wrong?"

"Professor! Thank god I found you. You have to come quick. Gustav is hurt real bad!"

The party heads out into the street following the young man. He quickly leads you to the town square where you find two men carrying a third on a litter. "What happened?" asks the professor.

"I don't know sir," says the boy. "I was back at the camp when Gustav stumbled out of the bog. I have no clue what happened to Karl and William."

Gustav is lying on the litter, barely moving. He is a ghostly white and odd marks have been cut into his skin. Kneeling next to the litter, the professor puts a hand on Gustav's shoulder. "What happened to you Gustav?"

"Ungh... ungh...." His feeble croak reveals that his tongue has been cut out.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:49, Sat 11 Jan 2020.

Mike stood aghast at the mutilated man. Despite all the horrors he had witnessed in his life and in the past week, it still horrified him to the core.

"They tried to sacrifice him. Karl and William are likely dead in the bog." He looked around at his companions, "Get him a pen and paper, maybe he can write down what happened and where. Then he needs to get to a doctor and we need to get ready for a fight."

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 90):

The professor quickly produces the requested materials from his satchel and places the pen in Gustav's hand and a piece of paper underneath it. His hand jerks and twitches and the scrawled handwriting is almost illegible. What you can make out seems to say:

“Bog people... Cult... Horrible thing... Horrible... Pet... West alive... Kill me... Kill mee...”

"Nonsense Gustav. We... Uh... We will get you right as rain in no time... You'll see... " says the professor although his voice is devoid of confidence as he tries to soothe the mangled man.

The father pulls Mike and Clarke aside for a moment. "I don't think we will get much information from Gustav. I imagine the man is in agony. Surely there is something one of you can do for him?"

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 91):

Clarke looked over the marks and cuts. He doubted he knew enough about this cult and its ways from his studies, but he had to try. Glancing and Zoe and Lara for help, he scrutinised the man further. Surely, all that time in the dunes could help this man through his pain.

Roll for occult knowledge: 25 - Pass

Oddly, some of the markings were familiar. They were not familiar enough for him, but he was certain Lara could help with additional information.

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 92):

Mike
Mike watches as Clarke crouches over Gustav, wondering if there is even anything they can do for the man. The silence stretches for a moment as everyone takes in the scene. The silence deepens. A thread of annoyance fills make as he watches Clarke as he doesn't seem to be doing anything. His friend's habit of losing himself in thought was a quirk that Mike tolerated but now hardly seemed the time. Just as Mike is about to open his mouth Clarke suddenly jumps away from the wounded man, stumbling slightly.

Clarke
As if summoned by his mind Lara appears next to Clarke, crouched over the mutilated man.

"These markings are familiar but they seem to be written in some kinda of localized dialect." Lara pauses for a few moments, her head cocked as she thinks. "They obviously have something to do with the ritual but I'm not sure their exact purpose. You see these here?" she says pointing towards some of the markings on Gustav's head and face. "These are runes of control or binding. It seems the cult was attempting to snare his mind." Her finger moves lower towards Gustav's chest which is a mass of cuts lined by dried crusted blood. "These are trickier..."

Lara's musing beings to fade into the background as a growing sense of unease fills Clarke. He finds his gaze drawn to Gustav's eyes, if they could be called that as they lacked any human features. Pupil-less gray murky orbs, Clarke was his hand in front of Gustav's face but doesn't seem to draw any reaction.

"Ugn... Mgh...," Gustav croaks.

Clarke can only guess what the poor man is trying to say. As Gustav's jaw moves Clarke can see the charred blackened stump that used to be his tongue wagging futilely.

"Mister?"

Clarke steadfastly ignores the voice. After his last interaction with the girl he was in no rush to acknowledge its presence.

".. Perhaps these runes are meant to be a message of some kind. Like some sort of prayer to a deity..." Lara continues.

"Mister?"

Clarke has to restrain himself from snapping at the figment. He steadfastly refused to look directly at the girl. Focusing back on Gustav Clarke is amazed that the man had made it this far. The blood loss alone... Not to mention the conditions of the bog.

Gustav's hand seems to reach out towards Clarke like a worshipper in supplication.

"Mister..."

The unease in the girl's voice finally draws Clarke's attention.

"Why isn't he breathing?"

Panic begins to fill Clarke. There is no way any man could survive such injuries. Clarke's mind begins to race..

How did Gustav escape the bog alive?...

With sinking clarity the answer clicks in Clarke's mind causing him to lurch away in horror (2 sanity damage).

He didn't...

This message was last edited by the GM at 08:45, Mon 13 Jan 2020.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 93):

"Get away from him!" Clarke yelled at the group, withdrawing his weapon. "He is not breathing! He is not alive at all!"

Due to the proximity of the other members, and the fact they were in the middle of the town, Clarke did not fire on the man. He knew all too well what a stray bullet could do to a person. He made sure he was at least several paces away from Gustav and his weapon was targeted precisely at the man's head - as that would be how the cult would control him.

He waited to see the actions of the other members before he squeezed off a shot.

Surprised by his friend's sudden outburst, Mike backed away from Gustav. His hand went instinctively to his revolver in it's shoulder holster when he saw Clarke pull his own gun out. "Everyone listen to the man!" he hissed at their companions who had yet to move away from the man. He aimed his weapon at the Gustav and waited.

There is no God here.

He could smell the damp soil in the square.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 95):

"What... What are you on about? Gustav is just... Hurt is all... Get him to a doctor and he will get him mended up," says the professor. "We just need to pick up the litter and..." he trails off as nobody moves forward.

"Hiram my friend, you know the truth," says the father. "You know the stone, you know what it can do. If the cult is the source, who knows what they can do..."

The professor gestures wordlessly, failing to find an argument. "I... I... I can't do it...." he whispers, head hanging.

Gustav finally manages to roll onto his side, his fingers digging furrows into the ground.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:41, Mon 13 Jan 2020.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 96):

Clarke went through the process of ensuring Gustav was in his sights. Turning his head he gently pulled the trigger.

BANG

"Ugn... Mgh..."

Clarke's shot has blown off Gustav's jaw, leaving a cavernous hole in its place.

"My god! You fucking missed!?" exclaims the professor. The sound of retching fills the night.

"Ugn... Mgh..."

Gustav's once murky eyes seem to glow bright with a malevolent light.

"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn"
This message was last edited by the GM at 01:23, Tue 14 Jan 2020.

Clarke's shot rang through the otherwise quiet town square. It echoed and set Mike's ears ringing. He watched as the bullet tore through the man's face in a spray of red droplets and nearly retched as he saw the aftermath. His tongue and shattered teeth visible through where his jaw once was, now a mess of flesh, bone, and cartilage.

As Gustav's eyes began to glow and the impossible words resounded from his gashed throat, Mike fired his Grandfather's revolver, hoping to finish the job.

10:44, Today: Jrodimus rolled 84 using 1d100.  firearms . Failed.

He cursed as the shot went wide and threw up dirt beyond his target.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 98):

Clarke focused on the mass of bone, sinew and red. The raw violence of the scene did not disturb him. Rather, it put things in focus: he could see the winding paths of blood that had led him here to this wretched end. He had been doomed since birth, and God had turned away. Killing this monster and the next one and the one after that was not unexpected - it was preordained.

He pulled the trigger. The shot went true and splashed Gustav's brains over the cobblestones.

"In Aberdeen, we find the devil," he said.

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 99):

The gunshot echoes off the stones of Aberdeen. Like a puppet with its strings cut Gustav's body, for that is all it really is, drops to the ground with a dull thud.

"Oh my god... Oh my god... Oh my god... Oh my god," chants Jimmy clutching his face, his fingers digging into his skin.

The rest of the group is barely any better. The father silently crosses himself and the professor shakily takes his pipe out of his satchel and clumsily packs it, tobacco spilling on the ground. The two men who had carried the litter seem to have run off in fright. Everyone seems transfixed by the corpse that was only moments ago moving...

FWEET... FWEET... FWEET

The blast of a whistle breaks the silence...

Mike stared at the chunks of skull and brain matter scattered across the ground numbly. He heard Jimmy babbling to himself incessantly, but gave it no mind.

Here we are again. But I guess this all we are...meat.

The whistle startled him out of his morbid reverie. With barely a moment's hesitation he knew that they needed to get out of there fast. "Everyone, lets go." He pulled Jimmy to his feet, "Show us the way to the bog!" He nearly shouted at the poor boy.