In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 12):

Clarke lunged for the hand and grabbed it. Although the fingers had a strength to them, they still belonged to a dead man. Clarke yanked each one of the digits off the boat and ensured that whatever the thing was, it was no longer part of their journey.

"For our eternal souls, get us out of here," he yelled at Mike.

Mike gripped the pole and pushed it into the bog floor pushing away from the drowned man's hand to put distance between them.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 14):

As he drifts deeper into the bog Mike realizes that he has no idea where to go. Stagnant water stretches about him in all directions. Aside from the occasional stunted tree breaching the surface there was little to give him a sense of direction.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 15):

Clarke did not take a chance on his navigational abilities. He already knew they were poor. Instead, he looked around for a familiar obelisk. The previous one had said there would be another they could follow. It made sense that if the boats had been moored at this dock, there would be another sign somewhere ahead of them.

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 16):

Despite the lack of light, Clarke is able to make out a large form just at the edge of his vision. Guiding Mike with a few gestures the small skiff moves towards the large figure which materializes into another large obelisk. Pulling the boat alongside you see that it is also covered in strange runes and markings. After a few moments you are able to decipher them into the direction of the next marker. This process is repeated as you follow the markers deeper into the bog.

The air almost seems to thicken until you can feel the heat and humidity pressing upon your skin. The chirps and drones of insects has disappears. Slowly a large landmass begins to take shape as you come upon a small island. At its center is what seems to be a dilapidated manor, its stone walls broken and cracked. Mike is able to steer the skiff into a smooth landing at the edge of the island.

Mike stepped off the skiff onto the solid moist soil and pulled it up onto the shore after Clarke got off. He put the pole back in the boat and made sure he had his supplies and looked around for any watchers.

01:58, Today: Jrodimus rolled 99 using 1d100 ((99)). Fail.

Not seeing anyone he whispered to his friend, "I don't see anyone, but in any case we should probably try to be quiet."

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 18):

Clarke heard Mike's whisper, but struggled to believe they were the only ones on this desolate island. If the cult was truly preparing for a dark ritual, he doubted they would leave their most sacred place unguarded. He took in the scenery and peered at each aspect of the manor.

Spot Hidden: 3 - Pass

Although it was difficult it notice, he did catch something with his detailed inspection.

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 19):

Looking around, Clarke can tell from the disturbed dirt on the shore that another boat had been here recently. While he can't tell much about the manor on the outside, he does notice that the large wooden door is much newer than the rest of the building. And strangely there is a large patch of freshly overturned dirt roughly the size of a grave plot in what would have been considered the 'grounds' of the manor.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 20):

"The door is new," Clarke whispered to Mike. "And someone else has come here recently. Do you want to hide the skiff or leave it here and chance it?"

Mike considered Clarke's question. Apart of him wanted to push the skiff off to avoid detection from any patrols or passerbys, but he also didn't like the idea of being stuck on the island with their only form of egress in the middle of the bog. "Leave it," he whispered, "Hopefully they'll assume its one of theirs if they see it."

He gave another look around, "Do you see another way into the manor?"

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 22):

"Nothing that sticks out. However, there is something that resembles a grave plot in the ground. Perhaps we should avoid it after our recent run in with the dead. There is a chance one of the windows is open."

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 23):

Trying to maintain their stealth, Mike and Clarke circle around the building looking for an open window. Unfortunately there doesn't seem to be one. However the walls look to be badly damaged enough that with a little work it would be possible to squeeze through into the interior of the manor.

Mike sucked in his gut and managed to squeeze into the crack in the wall. Dust filled his lungs as the buttons on his jacket slowly scrapped against the cracked walls. With his best effort, he managed to crawl forward and wiggle his hips through to get inside the manor grounds.

00:14, Today: Jrodimus rolled 52 using 1d100.  Dexterity. Pass.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 25):

After a few claustrophobia inducing moments Mike squeezes past the craggy hole in the wall and into the manor. Taking time to orient himself he looks around to find himself inside a large atrium. A dry and broken fountain dominates the middle of the room. The once smooth tiles have been broken apart by weeds and vegetation. On the far side of the room is a large archway leading deeper into the manor. Two doors, battered and slightly off their hinges, block his view into the other rooms. Whatever frescos had been craved into the walls and columns have been defaced with strange runes if not outright destroyed.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 26):

At first, Clarke attempted to follow Mike in the same way. However, his larger frame prohibited from moving through the smallish entrance. Inspecting the framework, he attempted to remember his military training on how to enter derelict buildings for surveillance ops. Although it had seem pointless at the time, Clarke had taken copious notes and recollected an old technique.

Roll to enter building: Pass - Education

Pulling out a piece of paper and his crucifix, Clarke ran his finger along the crumbling stone. He found the section that had been corroded and eaten away the most, and chipped away around the stone. The limited mortar that was holding the stone in place, turned to dust and with the careful movement of his notepaper in the gap that appeared, Clarke was able to loosen several key bricks. As he moved them out of the way, the hole to enter became large enough for him to sneak in without any major difficulty.

The process took about ten minutes. As he entered, he looked around for Mike to see if his partner had stayed put or gone slightly ahead.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:56, Wed 29 Jan 2020.

As Clarke worked on filing down the edges of the wall, Mike leaned against the wall and took stock of the room. When Clarke finally finished and squeezed inside, he pointed to the defaced frescoes. "These runes mean anything to you?" he whispered to Clarke.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 28):

After hearing Mike's request, Clarke looked hard at the runes on the frescoes. He adjusted his glasses and tried to read the engravings in the dim light. There was not much to go on, but the text appeared vaguely familiar. He was certain there was a spell book he had recently glimpsed that had contained the same phrase.

Occult: read runes 20 - pass

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 29):

Walking along the walls of the room, Clarke studies the defaced frescoes. The runes scrawled over them are of negation, meant to eliminate any influence they might have had. The manor must have previously served as a religious site before it was taken over. Strangely, rather then a blessing, the defaced images seem to have been meant for containment. Their purpose was to keep something here.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 30):

"There's no clue here about what we will face," Clarke said to Mike. "But they are attempting to contain something evil. It is likely the same thing the cultists are hoping to raise."

Mike pulled his revolver out and held it at the low ready. He was expecting to be outside, hence why he bought the rifle. But it seemed that his fate had different plans. "Let's find the bastards before they can raise whatever it is they hope to contain."

Quietly, he proceeded deeper into the manor into the lengthening shadows and decrepit halls.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 32):

It is obvious that the manor hasn't been inhabited in years as dust and cobwebs fill every nook and cranny. However, there are a few signs of life: patches of dust that have been disturbed, pathways cleared in the rubble. Holding his revolver before him Mike carefully moves down the hall. The rooms he passes are mostly empty, the few pieces of furniture that remain have fallen apart, ravaged by the passing of time...

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 33):

Mike feels a tug on his lead foot...

*CLANG*CLANG*CLANG*

The loud clatter of metal fills the air. Looking down Mike see that he has stepped on a trip wire that had been stretched across the hall. Silence reclaims the night as Mike and Clarke hold their breath.

"Ughn.... Wnha... Cthla..."

The pained moans come from the end of the hall which splits into a T. The left branch is suddenly lit by a faint swaying light...
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:25, Fri 31 Jan 2020.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 34):

Clarke noticed the light coming down the corridor toward them. Whether it was a cultist or a stumbling person from the dark yonder, he did not know. Nor could he be certain the path that would lead them to victory. They had precious seconds to act and any noise could be heard in the empty building.

Stealth roll: 67 - Fail

He searched around the room for a place that could hide from the light but found nothing. Reluctantly, he withdrew his weapon and found cover behind a crumbling wall. Unless Mike had another plan, they would have to fight it out with the lantern holder and pray few could hear their screams in the night.

Hearing the moaning lantern holder coming down the hall, Mike sought cover behind a dusty stand in the hallway and prepared to open fire when and if it was necessary.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 36):

You watch silently as the light grows larger and larger, swaying from side to side.

"Ugn...Wgnk... Bwka..."

What rounds the corner is truly a horrific site. While Gustav had been... freshly dead... This couldn't be considered anything but a walking corpse. The tattered remnants of its clothes hang limply on its skeletal frame. In places the decay and rot is so bad that you can see through its torso.

An ungodly smell accompanies the zombie, washing over you like a cloud and causing you to gag. It raises the lantern as its murky eyes scan the hallway. Its eyes lock on the poorly hidden Clarke, turning in red pinpoints of hate and evil. It lets out a tortured moan as it advances towards you.