In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 70):

Byron hears an incredible snap, like branch or bone. A black void filled his vision and his eyes were suddenly pierced by bright light. His mind bursts into German.

“Ach mein gott das Kadaververwertungsanstalt!  Ich  dachte es eine Lüge! Aber jetzt erinnere ich mich. Der Gestank und die Leichen!“.

A voice fills his head, not his own, chanting.

“Töten. Töten. Töten. Töten.”

He thinks to himself. “Es ist wie im Wald. In die Krieg.”

His mouth fills with the taste of blood. He can feel his body moving but he’s not in control. He can see but not with his eyes.

He wonders “Was ist los? Ein Dämon? Besitz?”

He hears the chanting

Töten. Töten. Töten. Töten. Töten. Töten. Töten. Töten. Töten. Töten. Töten. Töten. Töten. Töten. Töten. Töten.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:24, Tue 25 June 2019.

In reply to novissimo (msg # 71):


It was a demon, Byron concluded.

Byron could remember the incantations he was taught as a boy, in Latin, to dispel the wicked and the evil.

His mother, now withered and wretched in the ancestral home, had indoctrinated him in the controversial  art of magical Christian incantation.

Over and over he was made to ritualistically repeat the phrases of prayer and exorcism, only now, isolated in the caves of his mind with an unwelcome guest, did  he hope they would work.

novissimo rolled 97 using 1d100. Psychology check: break hold of demonic possession

“Terrae, cantata Deo, psallite Cernunnos, Regna terrae, cantata Dea psallite Aradia. caeli Deus, Deus terrae!”
This message was last edited by the player at 11:33, Tue 25 June 2019.

In reply to novissimo (msg # 71):

Byron

Byron can feel his mind falling apart, like a sweater slowly being unraveled.

Das älteste und stärkste Gefühl der Menschheit ist die Angst, und die älteste und stärkste Art der Angst ist die Angst vor dem Unbekannten.

The light brightens and Byron can feel his corporeal form burn away.

Mike

"I will end you," shouts Byron, his rage palpable.

Having evaded his friend's last punch Mike readies to attack. I need to keep him from Jack. He might be our only way out of here. Taking a deep breath, he can feel his legs push off the ground as he leaps towards Byron...

With a squelch Mike falls forward, his face landing with a thick thud in the mud that covers the floor around him. His mind seems to shutter to a halt.

Nothing but mud.

Clarke

"I will end you," shouts Byron, his rage palpable.

Taking a deep breath, Clarke is able to still his hands. In the back of his mind a errant thought drifts by, more a musing than anything. Maybe you were meant to hurt those you care about. The villagers, Zoe... What's one more drop in the bucket. He can feel his finger tighten on the trigger...

Everyone

Suddenly Byron begins to glow incredibly bright, a curiosity that seems to surprise even him. "How!?!?!" Just as the light becomes blinding there is a thunderous crash. Your eyes swimming, you see two figures prone on the floor. As your vision clears you're shocked to find two identical men slowly coming to.

"What happened?" ask the two Byrons as they slowly rise to their feet...
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:50, Tue 25 June 2019.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 73):

"I will end you!"

Mike spit the mud out of his mouth only to see blood specks spatter across the floor. He coughed as he rose up on his one knee, noting the tender spot where his revolver had jammed itself into his ribs when he hit the ground before.

Then he watched as Byron lit up light like a bonfire, light shining throughout him and out of him. It was so bright that he squinted and raised his hands up to block the light.

"How?"

Then the light was gone and the darkness rushed in to fill the void before the dim light returning to Jack's childhood room. He saw the two Byron's getting to their feet.

Of course. Things only get worse.

His hand came to a rest assuringly on the weight of the revolver from outside his jacket.

"Byron? Stay calm. Tell us what you remember." He wanted to approach his friend, but his shock kept him where he knelt. He coughed again. Harder this time.
This message was lightly edited by the player at 13:49, Tue 25 June 2019.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 74):

Wobbling slightly, the Byron on the left presses the heels of his hands against his eyes to clear his vision. " I don't know. There was a bright light and then suddenly...

"... I woke up on the floor with my head feeling like it had been picked apart," finishes the other Byron seamlessly as he works his jaw around in small circles with his hand.

For the first time they seem to notice each and start in shock.

"Ach mein Gott!" they shout simultaneously.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 75):

Clarke shifted his revolver between the two individuals. He had read these types of stories in the pulps, but never expected to be in one. Traditionally in the narrative, there was some hidden clue that told them which Byron was which. A small, innocuous detail that only his friends knew and the demons did not.

Roll of 71: Spot Hidden - Failure

He could not see a single difference, in fact, they now looked closer to each other than before. So did he kill them both? He, with his current run of luck, would probably attempt to and fail, bringing their team to the brink of the fate.

Looking past them, and into the void, he thought about the larger forces that existed in the universe. It was not Byron, but something external. Something looming beyond them all. Perhaps he could get out of the place and meet this monster directly.

Taking a step back, he tried to escape through the power of his mind.

Roll to escape using intelligence of the situation: 60 - pass

He felt the world shift in front of him once more.

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 76):

A sense of weightlessness begins to fill Clarke and he can almost feel himself floating out of his body. He had read about this before, that this was what it felt like when your astral body separated from your physical body. As the world around him begins to shrink Clarke once again feels a hand latch onto his arm.

"DON'T!!!"shouts a voice.

The world snaps back into focus and Clarke find Lara clinging to his arm, a wild desperate look in her eyes. "It's out there waiting to pounce. That's why we have remained dormant in your psyche. You let it in when you touched the stone."

"Found you big sis. You're very good at hiding."

Lara whirls around in fright allowing Clarke to see that the little girl that has been appearing in his visions is across the room, the doll she holds in one had dragging on the floor.

Spinning back to Clarke Lara grabs his face in both hands. "She is more powerful than Zoe and I combined in here. Don't let it in Clarke!"

 Slowly the little girl begins to advance across the room singing softly to herself.


"I don't know if I will be able to come to you again. This... thing is something terrible and I fear what will happen if it catches me."


"Don't let it in," she whispers. Clarke feels her lips briefly brush against his before Lara sprints across the room away from the advancing child.


As she reaches the far wall a sturdy oaken door appears. Grabbing the iron ring Lara tugs it open.


After what seems like an eternity but in reality was mere seconds Lara closes the door behind her and it disappears.

"No fair," pouts the little girl with a stamp of her foot. Chewing on the end of her pigtail the girl seems to ponder her options before suddenly noticing Clarke.

"Oh hi Mister! You look scared? Sorry I can't stay and play with you right now. It's my turn to seek. Maybe you can play with us next time!" she says with the innocent smile of a child. With her mind seemingly made up she sets out towards the wall Lara escaped through.


Unlike with Lara, as the little girl approaches the wall it seems to melt away revealing a yawning abyss of entropy that seems to scramble to latch onto Clarke's mind. But as soon as it appears it is gone, leaving behind a seamless wall.

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

As the two Byron's looked at each other in surprise, both of them almost a mirror image of the other with their hands in their hair and eyes wide, Clarke pointed his gun at one, and then the other. Suddenly, he dropped his gun and closed his eyes.

"DON'T!!!"

In a heart beat, a woman had materialized at Clarke's side, pleading him. "It's out there..."

Suddenly the light in the room faded, and a girl's voice started to echo eerily as a slight and shadowy silhouette of a child materialized, slowly approaching Clarke and the woman. One small step, echoing, then another.

Who killed Cock Robin?
I, said the Sparrow,
with my bow and arrow,
I killed Cock Robin.

The air shimmered, and lit on the face of the silhouette to reveal a little girls innocent smile. Mike saw Jack stop just before reaching the door, his mouth hung open in disbelief.

Suddenly, the woman broke away from Clarke and ran out another door that was always there.

Where did that door come from?

The little girl stopped, and smiled at Clarke, "Oh hi Mister! You look scared? Sorry I can't stay and play with you right now. It's my turn to seek. Maybe you can play with us next time!" then she sprinted towards the wall, her hair flowing behind her like she was underwater, and disappeared into the wall.

Mike steadied himself by putting a hand on his knee. He looked at the two Byron's, Clarke, and then Jack, all of them looking as flabbergasted as he was.

What is happening to my friends...?
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:56, Thu 27 June 2019.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 78):

Straightening his jacket Jack storms towards Clarke. "You told me that you didn't touch the stone. If you didn't then WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!?!" Charging up to Clarke he jams a finger in his chest. "Do you know what you have done?"

His tirade is broken up as a scuffle breaks out between the two Byrons

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

Clarke shrugged. The exhaustion of not being able to escape wearing his nerves to their last. A thought occurred to him.

"Why did I get a demon girl?" he asked Jack. "Here you stand, a part of yourself. Allegedly. You who interacted with the stone on a constant basis created a well-reasoned duplicate. I touch it through gloves and an evil entity springs forth from the void. Are you truly on our side or is this some gambit of the higher powers?"

Clarke waited for the reply while watching the two Byron's battle each other in traditional school boy fashion.

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 80):

As Clarke and Jack began to argue, Mike decided to attend to the two Byron's and prevent them from killing each other.

"Break it up you two!" He said, getting between them and holding them apart with his arms. "Alright, so we're all confused here. But this isn't real, remember? It's a dream. Or a dream thing. So, lets figure this out together. Byron...Byrons?" He paused, "whatever. Do either of you remember reading anything about split personality or fracturing of psyche in any of your studies?"

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 81):

"Well according to the work of Carl Jung," says one of the Byrons as he warily watches the other, "there are many types of theories regarding personality, but each theory contains several and sometimes many sub theories. A 'theory of personality' constructed by any given psychologist will contain multiple relating theories or sub theories often expanding as more psychologists explore the theory."

"That's ridiculous!" shouts the other Byron. "Psychoanalytic theories better explains human behavior as it divides it into terms of the interaction of the various components of personality. Freud Drawing upon the work of thermodynamics Freud was able to outline a theory of psychodynamics which is based on the idea of converting heat into mechanical energy. In this way psychic energy can be converted into behavior."

The two lapse into a shouting match.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 82):

Mike rolls his eyes as he slaps his hand to his forehead in exasperation. On one hand he found the entire thing absurd to the point of comedy. On the other, he was growing tired of the weird dream like hallucinations the Stone was throwing at them.

He snapped his fingers in front of their faces, “Alright bookworms, stay focused.” The two looked at him with the same annoyed look on their identical faces. He set his hands apart in front of him, “is it possible to channel Freud’s theory of Psychodynamics in order to piece the two of you back together?” He pressed his hands together to drive home the point. “Remember, this isn’t real. And if you stay apart, I’m afraid only one of you will make it back to the University with us.”

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 83):

"Whoa whoa whoa," says Jack rounding on Mike. "How do we even know that those," he vaguely waves his hand in the direction of the doppelgängers, "are even Byron? This could be another of the stone's trick. It's already tracking down the aspects of Clarke's mind."

Keeping a safe distance from the Byrons Jack plops back down in his chair. "I say we figure out how to get you out of here first. Let's take it from the beginning. The stone obviously didn't bring you here so what happened?"

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 84):

Mike pulled out a lucky strike and lit it. He inhaled and noticed that it tasted nicer, sweeter. He looked at it and nodded in approval “huh.”

He stuck his other hand in his pocket and walked towards the chair he had knocked over during Byron’s outburst. “Well, we came here by seance. I guess.” He leaned down and righted the chair, “we wanted to communicate with the stone, or at least determine what it was or wanted. Somehow, it pulled me into a dream, I can’t speak for these guys,” he waved to the Byrons and Clarke, “but it manipulated an old memory. It was looking for someone.”

Mike took a drag off his cigarette, enjoying the flavor. He exhaled and pointed at Jack, “it was looking for you.”

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 85):

Clarke lowered his weapon but sat a distance apart from the now talking Jack. He kept his weapon out, uncertain if this was the elaborate scam: the first part a trick to make them feel the danger is over.

He seconded Mike's comments.

"We asked someone who had communicated with the other side before to help us. Yet, as we crossed over, it yanked our memories and distorted them into something else. It needs you, but for what is difficult to say."

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 85):

"I've always been good at keeping a low profile. So you don't know where I am, and the stone doesn't know either.... Maybe we have to tackle this from a different angle..."

Tapping his forefinger against his chin, Jack is lost in thought for a moment. "So... who knows you have the stone?"

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 87):

Starting as a low thrum, the dreamworld around you begins to vibrate as a low pained moan fills the air seeming to come from nowhere and everywhere....

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 88):

A sudden jolt of realization sent Mike’s cigarette onto the floor, “where’s Professor LaRae? We have to get out of here now.”

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 89):

The world seems to give a slight tremor before seeming to solidify slightly.

"It's a surprise the old bat has been able to hold on this long. She must truly have the third eye. Her pathetic attempts at interference are the only reasons I haven't devoured you mind and soul."

An insidious order begins to permeate the room. Its vaguely reptilian, musky, and nauseating. One of the Byron's stumbles against a side table. His body seems to be melting like warm wax and you watch as one of his legs folds sickeningly beneath him, causing him to lurch sideways.

"You'll never escape the Dreamlands," he slurs as large portions of his body slough off, blackening as it hits the ground. In moments the imposter Byron is replaces by a mass of iridescent blackness, neither liquid nor solid, a frightful gelatinous mass.

"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn."

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 90):

Mikes jaw dropped as he watched his friend melt before him. Over the past few days he had seen the dead come alive again, heard voices, and seen things and people that weren’t there. But nothing had prepared him for the black ooze that was once his friend.


21:00, Today: Jrodimus rolled 49 using 1d100.  Fail

Mike dropped to his knees, his hands clutching the side of his head as he stared aghast at the horror before him.

mud...mud...

thuck...thuck

Töten Töten Töten Töten Töten Töten Töten Töten Töten Töten Töten Töten Töten Töten Töten

Byron reels as he witnesses what might as well be his own evaporation

The demon chorus grows louder

His heart goes cold

Time stands still

He screams

novissimo rolled 29 using 1d100.  Sanity Check. Passes

In reply to novissimo (msg # 92):

The world seems to stand still as the otherworldly abomination rears to its full height. It's inky blackness seems to swallow the light of the room which noticeably dims. Although it has no discernible mouth the creature continues its tirade.

"The Taker of Sacrifices will be pleased with your offerings."

Random pseudopods and proboscis form and disappear from the monster as it advances.

Mike

Thuck... Thuck...

Mike can feel the vibrations of each blow in his bones as he sinks deeper into the mud.

"Mercy... please." The heavily accented English is barely discernible through the bloody wheeze.

Mike feels part of himself break as his mind wrenches itself back into the moment (4 sanity damage).

Clarke

Maybe Clarke was really broken. Without Zoe or Lara there as a barometer, no one to call out his missteps and faux pas . But seeing this aberration, a creature that seemingly shouldn't exist, Clarke didn't feel terror. He didn't even feel unease. He felt a sense of validation... The world was fucked...

Byron

Byron's mind raced. If Mike and Clarke were right, a part of his psyche had just transformed into something unmentionable. Did that mean he was plagued by demons? Or did this mean his demons were excised? Fleetingly an African proverb that he had stummbled across during his studies floated along the surface of his mind.

When there is no enemy within, the enemies outside cannot hurt you...

As the monster moved forward Byron couldn't help but hope that such wisdom was true.

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

"And if you look here you can see Sirius, the brightest star in the sky."

Isla remember when she had first saw him in church. She had been running late and came in during the middle of his speech. But it was a day she would never forget He had been urging the congregation to donate to a local drive to help those in need and as the light shone through the stained glass he glowed like an angel. Isla had never thought she would love again after the passing of her beloved Calum, but in that moment she knew she was smitten.

"And if you follow it this way you can see Andromeda."

Isla didn't know much about stars and all that but she humored him. She clutched his arm as they walked deeper into the woods. She couldn't help but feel amazed at her situation. Her, with such a handsome man, under the night sky. She had felt so lonely for years before she met him.

"Since Cassiopeia would not recant her claim of beauty, it was decreed that she must sacrifice her only daughter."

He always talked about sacrifice. How sacrifice was the key to life. How what one gives can be returned tenfold. It all sounded like nonsense to her but he spoke with such passion.

Smack

Isla pulled her hand from her neck to find a flattened mosquito. The ground beneath her feet had become soggy, her feet sinking slightly into the ground. "Where did you say we were going Love?" she asked. Looking down at her he cupped her chin in his hand.

"We will be there soon my dear, don't worry."

As they walked further into the woods the air became filled with the buzz of insects and the calls of swamp creatures. Isla frowned slightly. This wasn't very romantic. But she supposed that as long as she was with him any place was paradise.

"We're here"

They came to an abrupt halt. Isla could barely see the trees around her as the canopy had eclipsed the night sky.

"You said you would sacrifice everything for me. Is that true?"

Isla could barely see his face but she could feel the heat of his body as she clung to him. "Of course, you are my everything."

"Thank you my dear..."

As he bent down to kiss her, Isla couldn't help but think about how only a few weeks ago she had felt so alone, no family, no friends. And now she was with the man of her dreams. Its as if god had answered her prayers and sent and angel down to...

A sharp pain pierced Isla's stomach, radiating out through the rest of her body. Breaking off the kiss she looked down to find an ornate dagger plunged hilt deep in her abdomen. Staggering back, she looked up at him, confusion briefly overcoming the pain.

"The Taker of Sacrifices will be pleased with your offering."

Isla's heel caught on a root causing her to fall into the stagnant waters of the bog that surrounded them. Suddenly the night sky became illuminated as torches were lit, held aloft by hooded figures that encircled her.

"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn." they slowly chanted in unison.

Despite its lack of depth the water around Isla begins to roil. In fear she thrusts her hand out towards him. "Please..."

"Through your sacrifice we shall live forever..."

Isla felt something long and cold wrap around her waist.

"Cthulhu fhtagn!"

Those were the last words Isla heard as she disappeared beneath the muddy waters...

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 94):

For the first time, perhaps since the beginning of his consciousness, Clarke realised his brain was clear. He had never felt this way before: a place of eternal nothingness in which all was good and all was evil for all was neutral and had no moral value at all.

He stared at the gun in his hand. Its purpose was pointless and so he dropped it. Then he dropped his bag, his tie and his jacket until he stood in nothing but business casual. Looking at his sleeves, he decided that he hated them long and rolled them past his elbows.

Content with his new style, ridding himself of all of life's demands, he let out a loud roar and charged at the goo. "Allah Akabar," he shouted, no longer wishing to be associated with the imperialist religion that had taken his soul.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:25, Thu 04 July 2019.