In reply to novissimo (msg # 28):

Thankful for the respite of having to listen to Anthony's indulgent self aggrandizement, Mike stands and offers his hand to Byron, "Of course, friends are always welcome at the table. Care for a drink?" Mike grabs an empty glass and fills it before offering it to Byron.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 29):

Clarke stood, unsure of how much of his life was delusion and how much was real. For all he knew, he could be sleeping in bed and having the worst nightmare of his life.

"Byran, I'm glad you saved me from that interesting smelling cigar Mr. Wick is smoking." (Occult Roll: 89)

He paused and glanced at all the hands placed on the table. Through sheer luck, he had eked out a victorious hand despite the ... issues.

"I heard you were studying at the university now. How are those ratbag professors?"

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 27):

"Well this is surely ruined," mutters Abner whose white dress shirt, despite his best efforts, is now sporting a large brown stain. "More of your friends Mike?"

"That's Byron Neville," says Anthony, his face pinched as if he just came across a rather unpleasant odor. "He attends one of Professor Roach's lectures. Lets just say his marks are... unimpressive."

"I must say that your attempts to conspire against me are rather transparent. Burt is mysteriously absent and replaced by two of your 'friends'" With a heavy grunt he leverages himself to his feet, grabbing one of the few remaining bottles of whiskey on the table. "While I applauded the effort, perhaps next time you want to swindle me you should be a little more subtle." With a wave of his hand he gestures at Anthony. "Come Mr. Flinders, I believe we have business to discuss." The two retreat to a side parlor. After the door closes you hear the distinct clang of a bolt being thrown.

Sweeping up the nearly half dozen empty bottles that litter the table (mostly on Abner's end), Ivan gives a shrug. "You guys are welcome to use the room, I feel like there is some catching up to do. Just ring the bell if you need anything." He turns to walk away but stops. "Oh, and Lucy has thrown together supper if you are so inclined."

With that the three of you find yourself in a now empty room, lit by a few dim bulbs hanging from the ceiling.

OOC: Mike can add $4 to his character sheet and $8 for Clarke
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:22, Sun 01 Oct 2017.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 31):

Though not much of a socialite, the sight of his old friends puts Byron in a brighter mood, despite the dimness of the room, the trailing edge of his nervous energy and the shrill pettiness of Abner and Arthur's sniping.

"Thank you kindly, Mike. Haven't been seeing much of you lately. The business keeps you quite occupied, I take it? I heard there have been crack-downs..."

"Ratbags indeed, Clarke. The faculty seems on edge with the new exhibit the university  is hosting. There was a strange occurrence among the students as well, today come to think of it... But anyway, how have you been? When did you make your way here to Arkham?"

"And speaking of old friends I only just received a letter from Jack..."

In reply to novissimo (msg # 32):

Mike chuckles at Byron's remark, "Eh, nothing a few greased gears can't help." He winks slyly. "I wonder if that exhibition is what Anthony was talking about."

At the sound of Jack's name Mike's smile fades. "Aye, I guess everything comes back home in the end."

There is no God here.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 33):

Clarke ran his hand through his hair. "You got a letter too, did you? Mine came at a ridiculous time of the evening. A courier had to drop it off."

He chuckled bemusedly, mostly to himself.

"You wouldn't happen to be having terrifying visions of monsters as well? Jack always did bring out the worst in me."

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 34):

Mike rocked back slightly on his heels, the memory of his vision flashing in his mind. "You know Clarke, it's funny you say that." He looked around to make sure nobody was eavesdropping and lowered his voice, "I came in here last night, and I could've sworn him or something like him was out there with me." He pointed towards the door that led to the front room of the Roadhouse.

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 35):

"What an odd coincidence."

Clarke moved over to Abner's side of the table and looked for evidence of cigar ash or a piece of the strange cigar that had been smoked earlier. (Keeper of Secrets: Do I need to roll for anything?.)

"Do you think it was a vision? A hallucination? A recall from the war triggered by something unexpected?"

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 36):

Clarke finds the butt end of Abner's cigar in a small pool of liquor in an ashtray, which formed after the rotund man had spilled his whiskey in surprise. On closer inspection it seems to be a high quality roll up with well dried and cured tobacco leaves.

OOC: No rolls are needed to find the cigar. However an actual analysis would require such.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:45, Sun 01 Oct 2017.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 37):

As if continuing on the conversation, Clarked stated, "Say, you don't mind if take the cigar do you Mike? I would like to track down some more and treat us all to the finest smokes West of Europe, let's say to celebrate fortune favouring old friends."

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 38):

Mike scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "You know Clarke, I don't know. I didn't eat much yesterday. Could've just been a daydream. Sometimes my imagination gets the best of me since the war."

His hands fall to his sides and he gestures to the cigar, "I take it Abner isn't going to finish it. Go ahead."

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 39):

Clarke picked up the cigar, wrapped it in a page from his notebook and pocketed it.

"I originally thought so too," he added to Mike's comment. "I have some terrible nights. And some awful days. Reality can be significantly more malleable after taking another's life. Something about this though ... something feels off. More off than more usual disconnects."

"How about you Byron? Any visions before or after you received your letter?" Clarke, pulled out his copy from his pocket and showed it to the group. It was still in the envelope.

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 40):

Byron looks at the floor and furrows his brow.

"Well I had a peculiar instance this afternoon." He looks up as he speaks.

"A class I was attending broke into hysterics and directed an almost cultish hostility towards me. They were chanting a phrase I can't recall." Byron makes a mental note to research the phrase in the university library. There was something familiar about it, though he can't fathom why.

"The episode may have been the manifestation of the collective subconscious of a tight knit group of colleagues. I'm not too popular at the university, as Anthony alluded too. Though the experience seemed to warp the very environment itself. Fascinating. And I can't rule out that I may have simply hallucinated it..."

Byron almost goes on to explain his financial pressures but stops short out of personal embarrassment. He nervously straightens his tie and looks at the floor again.

"From what I can gather anecdotally, there's been a substantial surge in negative emotional energy in this town. Abner and Anthony are a symptom of it as well. It may have much broader implications than any of us realize."

"We've three all had visions, whether we choose to believe they were real or not" Byron glances at Mike.

"This fact seems of significant import either way, I fear."

In reply to novissimo (msg # 41):

Mike coughs nervously, not entirely believing what he's hearing from Byron's mouth.

"In any case, our ol' friend made a request. I got the Chevy, should probably get the breaks checked, but after that we could make a trip up North in a fortnight if you guys can spare."

Mud

"I sure as hell ain't going alone."

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 42):

Mike remembers the summers spent with the Meredith's camping up in Maine. Fond memories of swimming in the lake, meals around the fire, ghost stories. It was only about an hour drive.... No wait... Or was it three hours? Come to think of it, everyone always seemed too caught up in the excitement to remember where the cabin exactly was.... You seem to remember first you took the highway North and then took...
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:22, Sun 01 Oct 2017.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 43):

"Are you sure we can't go there quicker?" Clarke asked. "It seems urgent, and from memory it is only a few hours away."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:51, Mon 02 Oct 2017.

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 44):

Mike scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Well I suppose we could head up tomorrow. But we'd need to get directions." He peers around the door and raises his voice, "Hey Ivan, where's old man Meredith these days?"

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 44):

Byron experiences a nervous eye twitch at the sudden suggestion of leaving for Maine. But on a second thought, he realizes that this spontaneous meeting of old friends in this place, in conjunction with the letter and visions, is too serendipitous to be accidental. There must be some greater meaning to it. And as he had just said, this may be far too important to leave for a later date.

"I agree, Clarke. We should go. And as soon as possible. Though if we wait a day we can do some preliminary research at the university."

In reply to Jrodimus (msg # 45):

"I thought Lucy told you the other day? He's been a shut in since his wife died. All his businesses run themselves at this point. Basically cloistered himself from the rest of the world. I'd assume he's just in his manor up on the hill." Ivan sketches a rough map on a napkin and hands it to you.

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 47):

Mike took the napkin and thanked Ivan. "She did mention something about it. Wasn't sure if he was still at the old house."

"I agree with Byron. A day to get the brakes looked at and to prepare. I don't want to just leave Shelley hanging either. I'm sure I'd get an earful when we get back."

In reply to The Keeper of Secrets (msg # 47):

"Byron I've always been the first to compliment you on your earnest pragmatism. And stars above, I know that I don't want to rush in wild person style with a whip and a cattle gun. However, I received this letter late at night. In miserable weather, I might add. What kind of courier does that? How much does one have to pay for it to be delivered in such haste?"

Clarke paused. He tapped his chest twice. "What type of evil would inspire a man like Jack to be so hasty in the first instance?"

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 49):

Byron stares straight ahead of him. Stares at nothing in particular.

"Clearly the forces that are harassing us have perturbed Jack far more. I suggest we prepare for our departure in the morning. I will visit the library for research, Mike can fix the brakes, and Clarke can get the cigars ready. Then in the evening we can meet again. Perhaps we can visit Old Man Meredith together."

Byron secretly agonizes over the need to spend his meager savings, but concludes it can't be helped. Other than the need to investigate and stop what ever dangers are lurking in this predicament, the potential to experience first hand and research a genuine super-natural occurrence of such intense magnitude is too fascinating for a budding parapsychologist to pass up.

The first proper investigation into the paranormal would not only validate the field of parapsychology in the annals of science but, perhaps, lead to personal fortunes as well.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:21, Sun 01 Oct 2017.

In reply to novissimo (msg # 50):

Mike nodded with his arms crossed over his chest, "I agree. I can pick you guys up, say around 15:00 tomorrow and we can head over to the Old Man's."

Mike checked his watch, and realizing how late it was decided it was time to return home. He said his good byes to his old friends and Ivan and Lucy, then made his way home. His thoughts clouded with memories and ghosts, he drove against the night time rain coming down.

It's all mud.

In reply to novissimo (msg # 50):

"If you strongly believe preparation is better than urgency, I'm not going to die on this hill," Clarke said. "Like everyone here, I wish these were better circumstances. However, it was good to see you both again. Till 3 tomorrow."

Clarke trudged out of the store. He was not looking forward to the walk home, especially in the dark with his mind already causing problems, but there was no other way to do it. He took the pace briskly, the rain pattering on his head and reminding him that beauty always lay within the stars, if nothing else.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:52, Mon 02 Oct 2017.

In reply to trahernwithglasses (msg # 52):

"Right. Let us reconvene tomorrow."

Byron shakes hands all around. A practice he prefers to avoid with strangers but is glad to do with friends. As he walks home he sighs in regret that the late night rain will mean his shoes will be soggy in the morning.

Byron reaches home and lays down for the night. As he does so, he realizes that, despite his mild fear at not knowing whats to come, this is the first time in a long time that he will sleep with eager anticipation and excitement for the days to come.