In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 95):

Byron gazed in abased horror at the sight of his own melting self lurched towards him.

“Ach mein Gott” he shivers “ it’s a level 7 plasmoidal gestaltwandler with mimetic properties.” His revulsion subsided a bit. “Fascinating.”

He came into focus as the thing shimmied closer.

He realized he’d only just read an account of an exorcism performed at a seance during the Great Awakening period of colonial history in his copy of Hurlbert's Magic and Alchemy Almanac in preparation for the evening.

The seance had gone awry when the party was hijacked by Mephistopheles.

“How was the purification incantation phrased again?”  He steps back as he checks his pockets and finds the Almanac.

He fortuitously opened the correct page, as Serendipity sometimes allows an avid book worm to do, and he read the archaic phrase:

“Reinige die Seele, bezahle die Gebühren und mache den Weg zur Vorsehung frei.“

novissimo rolled 90 using 1d100.  Magic attack.  Fail
This message was last edited by the player at 15:08, Thu 04 July 2019.

In reply to novissimo (msg # 96):

Mike pulled out his revolver and pointed it at the oozing abomination as it lunged towards Byron. His hand was shaking and his head was fuzzy from the shock of what he had just witnessed, but luckily for him, his old instincts kicked in and responded to the danger. He took a deep breath to steady his hand and pulled the trigger.

08:08, Today: Jrodimus rolled 46 using 1d100.  Gun Combat. Pass
08:09, Today: Jrodimus rolled 3 using 1d8.  damage from revolver.

His aim was true and he saw the creature's oozing leg splash where the bullet hit as black droplets spattered on the floor.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:13, Sat 06 July 2019.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 97):

Clarke heard the gunshot and lunged at the goop. Seeing little that he could grab, he attempted to go for its eyes, plucking them out of its sockets.

Fight: 99 - Critical Failure

He felt the monster close in around him. Having a modest amount of occult knowledge, he tried to remember an incantation that would hurt the dreamworld or monster.

Occult: 43 - Modest Pass
He could feel the words forming in the back of his mind even as the slide started to slide into his nose and pin his arms down.

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 98):

Clarke's mind barely registers Mike's shot, which does little more than a pebble tossed into a pond, causing ripples to spread across the body of the monster. As the spell beings to fill his mind, Clarke struggles to hold on to his sanity (4 sanity damage). He feels his body move in strange disjointed motions and unknown words begin to fill mind...

Y'AI 'NG'NGAH, YOG-SOTHOTH H'EE-L'GEB F'AI THRODOG UAAAH

A psychic forces bursts from Clarke, tearing across the room in erratic zigs and zags before it strikes the monster, tearing a wide gash in its side. With a painful wail, the monster beings to melt into a puddle.

The party beings to breath a sigh of relief when suddenly the ooze begins to bubble, rising up to resume its form

"Your tricks won't work in the Dreamlands" The monster slowly approaches.

In the distance you hear a faint crash and a familiar voice.

"Hold on! Just stay with me!"

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 99):

Clarke realised the professor was trying to hold onto their seance, but struggling. She, like everyone here, had over-estimated her abilities in the universe.

Concentrating only on her voice, he tried to get her attention to tell her to interrupt the seance. If she did, it's likely they would be sucked into Earth's plane. Perhaps the monster would too, but he guessed that taking something from its natural habitat and placing it in a foreign one would weaken it. Or at least give them a chance to find new tools rather than grasp at blackness for aid.

Roll of 67 for power: Pass

"Get us out of here," he yelled to the professor. "We're all here. Pull us out or break the connection. Get us out now!"

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 100):

Clarke can feel his mind reach out to Professor LaRae. Searching the otherworldly expanse of the psychic realm, he is unable to find her, as if her mind has been closed...

Exsúrgat Deus et dissipéntur inimíci ejus: et fúgiant qui odérunt eum a fácie ejus.

Sicut déficit fumus defíciant; sicut fluit cera a fácie ígnis, sic péreant peccatóres a fácie Dei.

The familiar voice fills the air...

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 101):

Clarke didn't understand the words, but he knew the rhythm. He had heard many of the senior priests chant it before suicide missions. Junior priests used to follow along in their native tongues while they carried on with their menial chores. It was also one of the chants he had become obsessed with after Zoe passed.

He did not know how a religious chant had penetrated into the depths of alien darkness, but it had. And as much as he wished to abandon the principles that had riddled his life with misery, he did not wish to die in the belly of the beast.

He kneeled down, folded his hands and bowed his head. "Lord above," he started. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. So let God arise and let His enemies be scattered: and let them that hate Him flee from before His Face!
As smoke vanisheth, so let them vanish away: as wax melteth before the fire, so let the wicked perish at the presence of God."

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 101):

After seeing Clarke’s powerful spell that seemed to damage the oozing monstrosity, Mike realized that he was completely out of his depth in the Dreamland. However, he knew he had to do something and he wasn’t about to leave his friends helpless. As the familiar voice echoed through the room, Mike decided that they’re best bet was to buy time so that Clarke and Byron could get a handle on this thing.

This is a bad idea.

As the ooze inched towards Clarke, Mike took off towards it and barreled into it in an attempt to...well to splash it or at least distract it from the wizards.

We’re all gonna have to sit down for a long talk after this was over.

He put his shoulder down and pushed off his right foot aimed towards the creature.

Today: Jrodimus rolled 26 using 1d100.  Brawl. Pass.

He clenched his teeth as his shoulder made contact with the thick liquid body.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 103):

As Mike barrels into the creature he feels a heavy impact before it disappears, sending him sprawling into the mud. The sound of bullets whizzing overhead, blasts in the distance, Mike keeps his head down.

"Move, move, move!!" shouts the Sergeant. Mike can feel the mud pull at him as he inches forward.

Suddenly Mike snaps to the present, the creature now between him and Clarke.

The familiar voice rings out again...

"Most glorious Prince of the Heavenly Armies, Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in our battle against principalities and powers, against the rulers of this world of darkness, against the spirits of wickedness in the high places"
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:35, Sat 13 July 2019.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 104):

Clarke heard Mike rush the monster and then crash to the floor. The physical attack proving to be useless, as had the weapon. Only the spiritual powers from above seemed to work in this place.

Clarke scrambled to remember the verse as best he could. He wished he had kept his rosaries, but he had ripped and ridiculed them after God had left them reeling from the unrighteous. Concentrating on the force above, as if it was a shining beacon on the darkest of nights, he mumbled, "Come to the aid of men, whom God created immortal, made in his own image and likeness, and redeemed at a great price from the tyranny of the devil."

"Mike," he hissed as he tried to recall more, "get on your knees and beg for an almighty intervention. Beg with whatever lapsed memories you have."

Alternatively, Clarke hoped Byron would show that all his friend's book study had not been undertaken to ignore his failing fortunes.

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 105):

Mike was never a praying man or much of a religious man. But hearing the disembodied voice echo in it's eerie prayers to the almighty above, he was ready to let the lord into his heart. At least for now.

He pulled himself up to his knees and said to Clarke, "I sure hope you're right about this Padre." Then to himself he muttered, "Here's hoping to some divine intervention."

He closed his eyes and let his voice join the others in pleading to whatever powers in heaven might be listening.

<quote Jrodimus>
In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 105):

Hearing Mike start to pray, even with his faltering statements and mumbled exhortations, Clarke felt more inspired. He prayed harder.

"Byron," Clarke started, "surely there must be something you believe in. Some deity you are willing to commune with."

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 107):

“Ha!” Byron shouts “Juedean Christian thought is half misremembered and half fiction, a shell of the distant echo of the cosmic forces too ancient and alien to understand.”

He flourishes his hands into  the Abhaya Mudra gesture, radiating blessing and protection.

“Don’t you see? What we’ve been witness to is the repudiation of the Biblical Texts! These monstrosities are beings of a godless universe!”

His chakras focused and mind flowered open. The iris of his eyes glowed a dull blue.

“We must become aware of higher universes.”

He only read the Vedic texts translated in German, after being introduced to the field via Herman Hess. He started the prayer verse monotonically

“Machen Sie eine Tour
Dhukh vinashe man ka
Swami Dhukh Vinashe Man Ka
Hilfegruppen
Hilfegruppen
Wie geht es dir”

rolled 71 using 1d100.  Cast out the slime demon. Fail
This message was last edited by the player at 00:52, Mon 15 July 2019.

In reply to novissimo (msg # 108):

"Prayers to some false deities won't save you now," says the voice emanating from the ooze. You see the monster begin to gather itself, its long tendrils retreating into its larger mass. "I shall flay your souls and shatter your minds. Here I am GOD!!!"

At the last word the ooze  explodes, splattering on the walls and party alike. Looking at your hands which you threw in front of your face at the sound of the explosion, they are covered in a black ichor. Despite its viscous nature, it clings to your skin. "Its time for the darkness outside to match the darkness within."

Suddenly, the ooze begins to creep up your arms and legs. As you frantically attempt to scrap the monster from your skin, a faint voice fills the air.

"My Lord, you are all powerful, you are God, you are Father. We beg you through the intercession and help of the archangels Michael, Raphael and Gabriel, for the deliverance of our brothers and sisters who are enslaved by the evil one. All saints of Heaven, come to our aid."

Your efforts do little to stop the progress of the ooze as it moves closer to your head and neck. You can feel the little that stained your face move towards your eyes and mouth.

"From anxiety, sadness and obsessions, we beg You. Free us, O Lord."

You feel your ears and nose fill.

"From every sort of spell, malefic, witchcraft, and every form of the occult, we beg You,
Free us, O Lord."

You open your mouth to scream only for more of the ooze to rush forward.

"Lord, You Who said, 'I leave you peace, My peace I give you,' grant that, through the intercession of the Virgin Mary, we may be liberated from every evil spell and enjoy your peace always. In the name of Christ, our Lord. Amen."

The world goes black.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:35, Mon 15 July 2019.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 109):

The party awakens to find themselves back in the classroom, its stone wall illuminated by a few sputtering candles. You are unable to tell how much time has passed while you were in the Dreamlands although the fact that the sun has yet to rise lets you know that It could not have been long.

"Thank the Lord I was able to break its hold on you." Your attention is drawn to back of the room where you see Father Henesey crouched over a prone Professor LaRae, holding a cloth to her forehead. Much of his color has returned and he moves without the familiar winces from your last encounter. "I'm surprised she was able to protect you for as long as she did. We owe her a tremendous debt of gratitude. Her interactions with the stone were indirect so hopefully she will suffer no ill effects.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 110):

Clarke patted himself down, discovering that all the clothes and items he had removed were now back on him. His skin was clammy and his glassed fogged. He did not understand how a prayer from catholic school could have saved them.

"Father," he said. "Thank you. We owe you a great debt of gratitude. Could you do us one more though, could you please write that prayer down? I believe Mike and Byron could do with learning it. We are in need of every tool we can get."

He turned to the group. "Where is Jack? That cannot be the final remnants of his soul. Not if they are looking so hard for him."

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 111):

Mike leaned forward from his slumped position on the chair and seeing his revolver on the table he collected it and the rounds and started to reload the chambers of the cylinder.

"Good to see you Padre," he said as his mind shook off the haze of the Dreamlands, "It seems we owe you another debt of gratitude. How did you know where to find us?"

He turned to Clarke, "I'm not sure where the aspect of Jack could be, but most likely it's still trapped in there with whatever the hell that monstrosity was."

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 112):

The father holds up a hand and you notice a thick platinum ring with a small inset stone the same color as the one you have been carrying.

"There are some things we need to speak of but we should get this women to the infirmary first," he says gesturing to the professor.
This message was last edited by the GM at 14:32, Mon 15 July 2019.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 113):

Mike looked at the prone unconscious professor, "Yeah, that's a good idea, Padre. Wheres the closest hospital or infirmary?" He knelt down to give her a look over, "Say Padre," he started almost absent mindedly, "speaking of injuries, how're you feeling?"

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 114):

A paternal smile spreads across the padre's face. "I'm slightly worse for wear, but no lasting damage my son." Wiping away a small amount of blood from under the professor's nose he turns to the party. "I'm not sure a hospital is necessary . Surely a university of this size had a nurse on duty." He looks around questioningly.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 115):

Mike stood and put his hand on the priests shoulder, “Thank you for your help as always, my friend.” He let his hand drop and scratched his beard in thought. “If I recall, there is an infirmary close to here.” He opened the door that lead out into the corridor and peeked his head out looking around for a map. Seeing one close by he approached it and checked it looking for the small Red Cross symbol that would indicate the infirmary.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 116):

Byron sighed as his headache set in.

He swayed on his feet as the disorientation of the transubstantiation in the standard plane settled.

He released his grip on his now wrinkled copy of Hurlburt's Magic and Alchemy.

"Father, about that in incantation. May I have a copy?"

In reply to novissimo (msg # 117):

Mike

Searching the map, his finger underscoring the various rooms, Mike finds the infirmary in the opposite wing of the university. It seems the fastest way would be through the courtyard although there is another way through the corridors.

Byron

"The incantation is a tough one but with the proper components I can at least teach you how to perform the ritual. If we had access to my church I could give you some talismans for protection but we will just have to make due for now."

Clarke

Clarke couldn't quite say how but now that he was back in the real world and out of the nightmarish... whatever it was... he could feel the presence of Zoe and Lara although he saw no signs of them. Out of a gut feeling more than anything Clarke attempts to sense the presence of childish apparition that had been stalking Lara.

Nothing

Clarke feels a knot of fear in his solar plexus relax.

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

Mike tapped his finger on the map where the infirmary was and then turned back to the darkened room, the light of the candles the professor had lit still flickering across the wall. The stacks of books and papers throwing monolithic shadows against the walls and bookshelves.

As he walked in he saw that Byron and the Priest were discussing some sort of magic. Strangely, all of the odd going-ons and mystical activities seemed to have brought Byron out of his normally withdrawn demeanor. Like when they were kids.

Clarke, on the other hand, still sat at the table staring down. As if he was there but elsewhere. A look that Mike had seen all too often. He put his hand on Clarke's shoulder as he entered the room, his feet scuffling across the wood quietly, "Let's move the professor to the infirmary."

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 119):

Byron moves toward the professor and begins to check her vital signs.

-----------------------------

novissimo rolled 37 using 1d100.  First aid / check vital signs. (First Aid: 60 / 30 / 12)