The narrow-gauge railway from Port Hedland to Cuncudgerie runs one freight train daily. MacKenzie has arranged that you can ride on the flat car (an open-air car, used mostly for luggage, situated near the engine). A few Aboriginals sit at the other end and stare curiously at you. The trip takes eight hours. The day is scorching; the land is dry, the watercourses empty. Low trees trace some of the ravines, but nothing like forests or even copses exist. There are no farms. During the journey nothing moves except three very large birds, winging lazily far in the distance…

Cuncudgerie lies south of Port Hedland; a mining town, it bustles even in the heat of the day. Besides the established mines and miners, the place caters to many prospectors, thousands of horses, camels, and mules, hundreds of trucks, and a few ladies of easy virtue, looking nowhere near as romantic as the storybooks claim.

A tall, middle-aged man is there to greet you as the train pulls into the station. He shakes your hands with a firm grip and lifts his hat for Rachel. “G’day and welcome to Cuncudgerie! I'm David. David Dodge,” he smiles. “Get a telegram from MacKenzie that you’re heading out east, looking for ruins. Sounds exciting! I’ve managed to lay my hands on two Daimler light trucks, and we should be well stocked on supplies for the morning. You can get rooms at the Cuncudgerie Grand, one of the local inns. Oh, and if you need clothes and equipment more suitable for the outback, there’s old Mortimer’s shop over there. Mad as a hatter, so he is, but his three daughters are beauties!’



This message was last edited by the player at 21:53, Mon 20 Jan 2020.

• Gold-bearing reefs (exposed lines of mineral deposits) occur eastward for hundreds, maybe thousands of miles. But the fellow declaring this is clearly trying to impress his newfound “friend.”

• Deadly snakes exist in the deep desert; be careful where you put your feet!

• There was a big mining disaster far to the east some years ago, but the company responsible paid off the politicians and the whole thing was hushed up. Some 25 men were killed, among them Derby Dave the Welshman, who did some work for Ol’ Mortimer, who now runs an outfitters in town

• Some drovers, who brought in cattle over the Canning Stock Route, swore that things the size of bears stole some of their stock. That was “about a year ago.” The attacks were alleged to have taken place somewhere east of the Percival Lakes.

• There’s been a ghost seen up north recently, near Dingo Falls. It could pass its hand straight through someone’s body—this particular tale is told by an old man named Mad Ginger Muldoon.

• Three huge birds were seen about two weeks ago. The teller swears they must have been 20 feet at the wing. He took several shots at them, trying to bag one, but they were well out of range

• There is an underground city somewhere in the desert. Ways exist in and out of it, but the sand shifts constantly, burying and exposing the entrances. Evil things live there.
This message was last edited by the GM at 16:26, Sun 26 Jan 2020.

Mar. 7, 1921—Jock Kuburaga says that abos are following us. Most unusual if true. Primitives have every reason to fear guns—and our bush ranger predilection for using them. In the past, I have always known them to head the other way as soon as they sight white men.

Mar. 21—We are about equally distant from Joanna Spring and Separation Well, east of an awful line of dry lakes. The heat is terrible. Our hopes are low—there is nothing here, certainly not quartz reels! L.’s notations are in systematic error. He is a complete drongo as a surveyor. Today we sighted several enormous birds flying lazily far above us. How did they get here, and where can they be going?

Mar. 22—At about noon today we found Jock, partly buried in a gully. His body was scoured and covered with hundreds of small punctures, as though somebody had sandblasted him, We buried him, of course. I shall miss his counsel, and he was an excellent hand with the camels.

Mar. 23—We have discovered what appears to be remnants of an ancient city, rising from the shifting sands! I believe I have secured several good photographs of this amazing find, though the heat has ruined all but six of my photographic plates. By the pitting of the stone, the blocks and pillars appear to be more than 10,000 years old! Incredible!

Mar. 24—Four camels killed in the attack last night. I saw at least two abos, and more must have been skulking out there. I’m sure I hit one. That ends this trip—we’ll have to head back to Cuncudgerie and report this incident. More than men were out there last night. I saw shapes much bigger than men during the attack. My evidence is the body of Old Sam the camel, punctured and scraped is the best way I can described the remains, just like poor Jock. Since the attack lasted only a couple of minutes, it’s hard for me to believe that anything human could have done so much damage so quickly. But then what was it?

May 15 – Have told Robert Mackenzie about the city. Together, we aim to return and undertake a full survey. When he saw the photographic plates, he was flabbergasted. Now as keen as mustard to work with me to realize the discovery.
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:38, Sun 26 Jan 2020.

The largest pub is called the Swagman’s Hat and it’s a noisy and rowdy place, full of boisterous miners and workers. The local Aboriginals sit in a separate section, and there are some mutterings and snickers from the other patrons as Johan sits down with them.

It’s difficult for him to break the ice but after a while, a few of them open up and start chatting with him. They relate several strange things that have happened in the area (see the post Cuncudgerie gossip for more).



Meanwhile, Dermot is busy asking around for more information about MacWhirr, Dodge and Huston. He learns that Professor Dodge is an associate professor of archaeology, just finishing his current term, and looking forward to some vacation time. He’s an impetuous and ambitious fellow, well-liked in the area.

Arthur MacWhirr was a local engineer and surveyor. Four or five years ago, he claimed that he found big squared-off blocks of ancient stone out in the desert, and he bought drinks for a whole pub and showed some photographs to prove he was telling the truth. He sadly died of influenza later that year, before he could return to the area.

Nobody has heard of anyone called Huston, but rumors say that some crazy American bloke took a crew of two dozen men into the bush, had them dig a shaft 10 meters deep, then told them to stop, gave them a big bonus, and sent every man jack to Darwin to collect his pay. This was a while ago. Another man tells of a Yank named Carver, who conducted surveys and exploratory diggings along the Canning Stock Route, which flanks the eastern side of the Great Sandy Desert.

Mortimer Wycroft’s Shop
Wycroft’s shop fills the lower story of a dilapidated building on the outskirts of Cuncudgerie. Two sheds sit on either side of the shop, probably containing mining equipment. A small petrol pump (Australians, like the English, call gasoline “petrol”) at the front of the building connects to a large buried tank of 600-gallon capacity.

The dingy shelves behind the shop’s U-shaped counter are stuffed with coveralls, cookware, boots, rope, chain, heavy rope, miners’ lamps and hats, clothes, arc lights, flashlights, batteries, truck parts, blocks and tackles, engines, engine parts, tinned food, picks, assay kits, and much more.

Three pretty young women lounge in chairs in the store as Dermot enters. All three are dressed as common laborers, in trousers and shirts. They are tanned and their hair is sun-bleached blond.

The youngest gets up and greets Dermot at the counter with a dazzling smile. “G’day, sir. How may I help you?”




This message was last edited by the GM at 16:51, Sun 26 Jan 2020.

Unless Dermot wishes to interact with the shopkeepers, we can go ahead and move you into the desert.

Reminder; You're in Northern Australia, chasing down a lead about a mysterious ancient lost city in the desert. One of the members of the Carlyle Expedition is rumored to be there; Dr. Robert Huston.

You are traveling in two trucks, one driven by your guide, Professor David Dodge.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:19, Fri 12 June 2020.

The trip to the coordinates in MacWhirr’s diary will take a minimum of four days. For hundreds of miles, the landscape slowly increases in desolation. The daily heat and dust are constant, but at night the temperature drops precipitously. In your none too thick bedrolls, you stare up at unfamiliar skies, dominated by a brilliant constellation, the Southern Cross. When the heat vanishes, the air is very clear, and the mornings and evenings are poignantly beautiful.

There is little to see but scrub, dust, and rock. A rise a few hundred feet high is tall enough to be noted on large-scale survey maps and, perhaps, even to be given a name. No running streams exist. Every few miles your group crosses mule or camel tracks, or the ruts of a car or truck. There is no telling when the tracks were made; the desert is so dry that tracks can stay visible for years, unless obliterated by a dust storm.

Surprisingly, smoke can be spied from distant fires, two or three times a day. Traditionally, Aboriginal Australians use fire to trap game as well as to cook, and smoke plumes can be navigation aids when traveling at distance across the flat, nearly featureless land.



Though plagued by flat tires, split radiator hoses, and other minor automotive problems, David Dodge leads your group expertly. Following Dodge’s directions along the stock route, the plan is to turn due north into the dunes to arrive at the position indicated by MacWhirr and Mackenzie’s coordinates.

Late on the third day, between Mallowa and Nibil Wells, everyone notices the tracks of many vehicles leading from the stock trail into the sandy hills to the north. This road, as good as one is likely to find in this part of Australia, apparently runs directly toward the location pinpointed by Arthur MacWhirr.

‘Well’, says David. ‘Looks like we’re heading this way.’  He turns the lead truck down the well-travelled dirt road.

After stopping to rest for the night, you continue the next day. After a few hours’ drive, you come across what looks like an abandoned mining camp. Huddled beside a 20-foot-high rocky outcrop are a dozen or more tent shells, their covers ragged and flapping in the breeze. Nearby are many head-high stacks of crates and various long tubes and bits. A tiny shack marked “Explosives,” as well as a small wooden building with mechanical gear secured on top of it, appear to be the only standing structures, although one tent does seem to be more or less whole. An old Ford truck rests at the end of the row of tents, squashed and broken, as though a giant had stepped on it.

There is still no sign of the strange curvilinear blocks seen in MacWhirr’s photos, nor any signs of life.

"Professor Dodge? Could we stop by that mining camp?" Rachel asked, eyeing the area as it came into view.


"That American man--the crazy one who paid a crew to dig then sent them away--do you know what happened to him, Professor Dodge?" Rachel asked, waiting for their vehicle to stop. As soon as they stop, she quickly opened the door, stepping out. The girls at Wycroft's shop had the right idea--wearing worker's clothing in this sort of place. Rachel pulled off her wide brimmmed hat, cautiously making her way into the abandoned camp, careful not to get too close to anything.

She looked around the place, trying to spot anything that could clue her in as to what could've happened in that place.

In reply to GM (msg # 17):

Dermot will shoot the breeze with these lovely young ladies, casually fishing for any information but mostly just enjoying the company. After turning his attention to the wares, he decides to pick up a miner's hat and lamp (assuming that's a lamp on a helmet) and a block and tackle before rejoining the group.

In reply to Dermot Murphy (msg # 20):

Dermot spends a pleasant time in the shop, although he feels that the young girls are also trying to casually discover what his business is.

In reply to Rachel Katz (msg # 19):

Dermot will follow a few paces behind Rachel, gun drawn. For the moment, he's mostly surveying the camp and surrounding landscape for danger.


This message was last edited by the player at 17:21, Mon 15 June 2020.

‘No idea, Ms. Katz. Sorry.’ says David as he climbs out of the driver’s seat.

Rachel and Dermot hop out of the truck and slowly wander around the camp. They see human bones amidst the sand and rubble. Several skeletons are more or less whole, but with broken bones.

Near the small wooden structure, Rachel uncovers a club, about 30 inches (76 cm) long, half-buried in the sand. Embedded in the striking end are many small, sharp, white teeth. *

‘Hey, look here! Fresh tracks’, says David, kneeling besides a strange set of tracks, which start and end abruptly, as though the maker had flown down, walked a while, then flown away. Each track seems to have six toes, but the tracks themselves are enormous, about 6 feet (1.8 m) long. **


* A successful Science (Biology or Zoology) or Hard Natural World roll will identify the teeth.

** A successful Cthulhu Mythos roll might give more information about the strange tracks.

Upon seeing the tracks on the sand, TJ quickly got scared. He looks around, checking if there are any tracks or traces of the creatures anywhere else.

"Folks, let's find shelter, unless we want to be devoured by Polyps," he exclaimed. However, he was shocked by this knowledge that he just uttered. *Was this also a gift from the Black Man?*, he thought.

But still, their safety, and lives overall, is the top priority. The mining camp seemed to be the safest place to be, but he must still be alert, since the Polyps might be hiding there as well.

In reply to GM (msg # 1):

As we travelled towards Australia and as TJ read the book, he has heard the same deep voice that always haunts him. One night, while he was sleeping on the ferry towards Australia, the Black Man appeared once again in his dream.

"Dear child, you have faced too many dangers recently. Are you sure you don't want any more help from your friend? It will benefit you greatly," the Black Man offered.

"Help? Since when is being curse any help to me? You do realized that everyone of them is suspicious of me now because of my connection to you!" TJ angrily answered.

The Black Man flashed a grin. "There now, don't worry. When you wake up, you'll soon know more that you oughta. And besides that, don't be surprised of my 'special' gift to you," he answered and he went near TJ, touching his forehead. "Be careful of how you use this gift," he continued.

As he touch TJ's forehead, a burning sensation on that area woke him up. He screamed and jolted himself awake, and what he saw when he focused around the room surprised him. Good thing he has his own cabin, because all the furniture in his room has been thrown violently.

"What the hell?!" He exclaimed as he walked around, trying to grasp what happened. 'Was this the gift?' he thought. Muttering a series of no's while fixing everything up, he went towards the sink and wash his face.

To his surprise, there was a mark on his right temple, as if it was pierced by something sharp and it left a burning mark. Panicking, he went and grabbed a bandage and put it on the area.

Nobody should know this. If Nairobi put a target on his back, Australia might be his burial grounds.

In reply to TJ (msg # 24):

Dermot's face sours.

"You know what did this? Must be a fearsome creature."

He continues to shift his eyes around for danger or shelter, and prepares to follow TJ's advisement.

Art gets down from the truck and nervously looks at the tracks and at the mining camp. “so much for leaving the gore behind, seems we are much safer at the mining camp than out in the open. T.J forgive my ignorance but what are Polyps, and more importantly how does one kill them?”

In reply to Art (msg # 27):

TJ looked at him with a grim expression. "Sadly, sir, it seems that these creatures cannot be killed."

Art shakes his head and says “well I guess that narrows down the old fight or flight.”

In reply to TJ (msg # 24):

Mildly horrified, Rachel pulled out the club with teeth, holding it up for everyone to see. She raised an eyebrow questioningly, glancing around at the others as if to ask if anyone knew what it was. It seemed like a primitive but effective weapon-- that could leave a rather nasty mark on an unfortunate victim.

Upon hearing TJ's remarks, Rachel turned and eyed him suspiciously, taking a few steps towards him.

"Wait--what are polyps? You can't just throw around...names--and not tell us what they are." Rachel snapped, eyes narrowing as she grabbed TJ's arm. The man had exhibited weird and strange knowledge, and while Rachel was grateful for his help, she wasn't about to be caught unaware again.

"And how do you know about them?"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:55, Tue 16 June 2020.

In reply to Rachel Katz (msg # 30):

"Hey, I'm just as surprised as you are, ma'am. Trust me, I wish I don't know this things as much as I do right now," TJ says as he loosens Rachel's grasp. "But for now, these things might kill us. Let's beware of any whistling or piping sounds when we go down. That's a sign that they are nearby," he continued, still amazed yet horrified about his knowledge of the creatures.

In reply to Professor Dodge (msg # 23):

Waking from a slumber to find their trucks stopped at the old mining camp Johan awakens, "ahh
Guten Morgen, are we there...have we reached our destination?  Fatigue appears to have gotten the best of me."

Climbing down from the truck Johan (likely stepping on one of those bones and not noticing) joins his colleagues in surveying the area and missing the context of the conversation he walking in on, "Polyps are growths on the skin that most often look like small, flat bumps or tiny mushroom  stalks...I had a colleague so afflicted at university."

Finally noticing the club that Rachel is holding up, "My what do we have here...."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:35, Tue 16 June 2020.

In reply to Johan Braun (msg # 32):

With a final glare, Rachel stepped away from TJ, turning to Johan and offering the club to him.

"I don't think that's what he meant..." Rachel muttered, letting her words trail off as she shook her head.

"Do you know what it is?" Rachel asked instead. "I mean it looks like a weapon-- but is it... some sort of ritual weapon?" She lowered her voice as she spoke the last words, glancing at Professor Dodge to ensure he was out of earshot.

In reply to Johan Braun (msg # 32):

TJ responds, "Polyps are these ancient creatures that lived here millions of years ago. It's hard to describe them, but from what I can remember, they are these worm-like things, 18 feet tall, scales and eyes covering the body along with a few fanged mouths. And they have these tentacles that has claws on the end, those that made the marks we found there."

He shuddered while describing them to the group.

In reply to TJ (msg # 34):

Johan had turned to Rachel to comment on her find, when TJ spoke up about the Polyps he turns. In a low and very serious tone for Johan, "how do you have this knowledge?" Appearing lost in thought.  "A long time ago, when I was a child...I had a fantasy of such creatures, dreams of them, of their civilization.  How could you know of this....?"
This message was last edited by the player at 12:23, Tue 16 June 2020.

In reply to Rachel Katz (msg # 33):

Shaking off the conversation with TJ, and turning to Rachel once again. Shaken and speaking softly, "I know not what that item is but...perhaps ...for the moment you should conceal that item until we know the true measure of the others traveling with us."

You inspect the rest of the camp...

Explosives Shack
The lock on the door has been broken. Inside, it is bare except for two stout, empty wooden boxes. Their outsides detail the specifications of the powerful mining dynamite that once filled them; each box held 48 sticks. Inspection turns up several other empty dynamite boxes near the shack; weathered and half-filled with sand.

The Intact Tent
All the tents are torn savagely, but one has been carefully sewn back together again. Inside are bits of clothing, fresh matches, tinned food (and empty cans of the same), several lanterns, kerosene, and other household items. Of all those in the camp, this tent alone appears to be freshly lived-in.

Small Wooden Building
Inside is a deep shaft; the structure around the shaft acts to mount an engine and cable winch for a small, open elevator poised at the top of the shaft. The light from a flashlight or the sound from an object thrown down the shaft merely reveals that it is very deep.
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 14:46, Tue 16 June 2020.