Recap; You are all in Africa, specifically at the Norfolk Hotel bar in Nairobi, Kenya. The date is Saturday, 4 April 1925. You have learned from Old Man Bundari that a major cult ceremony is to take place soon, at the Mountain of the Black Wind. You recall his words;

The Cult of the Bloody Tongue was responsible for the massacre of the Carlyle Expedition. Unnatural beasts were summoned from the Other Sides to kill and carry off the victims. Those carried away were brought to the Mountain of the Black Wind, a terrible place shunned by everyone.

The Mountain of the Black Wind is so called because a dread god inhabits it. Others know the mountain as Mount Satima. Even the greatest of spells cast against the mountain have no effect. Once per year, the Black Wind is unleashed, which brings plague, famine, and disaster.

To satisfy their god, the cult abducts villagers and sacrifices them. After the sacrifices, the god appears in all its terrible glory, attended by creatures not of this earth. As tall as the mountain itself, the god has no face; only a blood-red tongue hangs down from where the top of its head should be. The mere sight of this hideous god drives men mad. The god’s priestess is called M’Weru. She lives in the mountain. It was she who prophesied the coming of a child of the god, a part human monster, who is soon to soak the land with blood.

In the extremely crowded hotel bar, you spotted two adversaries from England; Abdul Nawisha, owner of the Blue Pyramid night club, and Zahra Shafik, a witch of considerable power.

You approached and confronted them, and Zahra demonstrated that the hotel bar is full of her underlings, who are hovering around and following your every move.

Zahra nods politely at TJ as he introduces himself. “Professor. I sense that you have seen more than most men. I would love to hear details about it. Perhaps later, no?

She turns her attention back to Johan. “You were saying? About an artifact? A mask perhaps?”

In reply to GM (msg # 70):

As soon as the woman mentioned that, memories came flooding back to TJ.

Him reading books on the occult...the time he went to Salem...encountering a coven of witches...being tied up and receiving two slashes on his chest...the sensation of fire licking his flesh...chantings of prayers that turned into screams of horror...and a man.

Or is it a demon? It has horns, but the dark figure is undeterminable. But it spoke to him in a deep, cold voice.

"You were a mere victim. I may look like a demon, but I am willing to help you. I will help you and let you live. But you have to help me as well. I'll give you powers that is uncomprehensible by others. Make a deal, and this will be done."

"Just do it! Please!" he screams for the suffering to be over. And then...it was all gone. The wound he got turned into a scar, shaped like an upside down cross. He was also untied now.

But what he saw scared him. Bodies of the witches were on the ground, crumpled and there are looks of horrors on them ("caused by the demon man?" he thinks to himself). He was still shocked and shaking, but he heard a voice in his head.

"Soon, you will know who I am. You may be a vital piece," it was the same voice who talked to him earlier. He got up and left the place, never wanting to return.

And then, he fainted.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:38, Mon 30 Sept 2019.

Dermot isn’t exactly sure which artifact his companion is offering. While he appreciates the quick thinking, he’s feeling anxious at the revelation that some of these blasted masks may be of value to their enemies. Maybe young Bromley was more than a mere thrill seeker after all....

"Collecting masks, are we? We may 'ave come by one or two on our journey. What are they to you?"

Art nervously adjusts himself into his seat at the bar. The realization that the enemy posses the numbers and initiative to surprise them like this has him on edge. While his fellow adventurers have decided to play it cool, the memories of the dangers this expedition has thrown their way is threatening to override his self control. He keeps his thoughts on his revolver.
How can I help? How, can I, help? Help. He smirks and deflatedly shakes his head side to side as he says the word over in his head.
Against what? The soul less, followers that would die in droves at the mere thought of service to evil so grand and old that it predates the very concept of fear in mankind. And me here placing my ability to help in the mechanical and chemical reactions that will propel small pieces of metal out of my revolver and into the things I can’t explain and those who serve them. Well at least my time in the service has in a very real way prepared me for that.

Rachel's lips were pressed so tightly together that they disappeared in a tight line as she eyed the other woman. Rachel shook her head when Dermott proposed they approach, not wanting anything to do with her or the club owner. She heard bits and pieces of their conversation--then Zahra suddenly shouted--and about twenty of the pub's patrons leapt to her aid. Rachel's hand went for her knife in her bag, but Art seemed to know what he was doing.

Reluctantly, she joined them, glaring daggers at Zahra. Suddenly, TJ fainted.

"TJ? TJ!" Rachel reached over to check TJ's pulse, shaking him awake.

Art runs over to TJ and begins to perform first aid to try and determine what’s going on. He snaps some smelling salt over his nose in hopes of making him regain consciousness.

(Success) 00:50, Today: Dr. Arthur Digby (Art) rolled 39 using 1d100.  First Aid (70%/35%/14%).

In reply to GM (msg # 70):

Gustav, in his most unnusual self, took the more diplomatic approached and stood quiet and still from where he is. taking into account all the items in his surroundings that can help him escape. He does not even move his hands to his revolvers, sensing the odds against him and his companions.

He nonchalantly looks at the exits, glass bottles that can be turned to weapons, alcohol that can be a catalyst to a fire, volume of the crowd outside the bar.

'The last time I have encountered this woman, I almost killed Ms. Katz, I still have not forgiven myself for that.' he mused as TJ faints in the middle of the room.

Using this distraction, Gustav tries to find an opening for him and his companions to escape.

In reply to Gustav Schmidt (msg # 76):

Noting TJ's fainting and momentary locking eyes with Gustav, before returning his gaze to Zahra.

"Ahhh, yes the fire vampires.  Interesting name, one of many unusual things that we have encountered and here we still stand...well most of us anyway.  I imagine you've seen many interesting items in your time as well. As we have decided to sit peaceful and engage in  a slight repast perhaps while we wait for the waiter... you could regal us with a tale of your journey in this land? Let's us save our business for after the meal like civilized people."  Johan nods to Zahra hoping to keep her gaze and hand grasping his can under the table.

Zahra smiles indulgently as Art revives the unconscious TJ. “I would recommend a nice cup of tea, young man”, she smiles and gestures at a waiter. He hovers nervously around the table, aware of the many eyes on him.

“Drinks all around – and some food, please,” Zahra says to the waiter, and he takes your orders and scurries to the bar, returning shortly with your drinks and assorted snacks.

“Bon Appétit,” smiles Zahra and bites into a samosa. “Yes, I had an interesting journey down here. I stopped in Egypt to pay homage to our new Queen of course.”

Is that the slightest twinge of distaste as she says this?

“I’m glad you didn’t manage to interrupt that glorious event too much. Must be hard to set fire to a pyramid, no?” She laughs. “That seems to be your typical approach to everything. Not surprised the fire vampires didn’t work.”

She turns to Dermot. “Masks? More than one? Interesting…  I was referring to the Mask of Hayama. The one I suspect you found in New York? It would indeed be worth a great deal to me.”

In reply to Zahra Shafik (msg # 78):

“A pint of the black stuff will be grand.”

Dermot does the mental equivalent of counting on his fingers at the repeated mentioning of fire vampires. He supposes that must have had something to do with the disintegration of their strange companions at the hunting lodge. He stows this information away, along with the witch’s knowledge and lack of knowledge about the assortment of masks.

Shrugging casually at Shafik, he endeavors to regain his cool demeanor.

"If we had come across this mask you're asking after, what would it be used for? ...Hypothetically...."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:09, Thu 03 Oct 2019.

Zahra gets a dreamy look on her face. “You can see the Old Ones themselves! Experience their glory in person. The mask opens a link to them.”

She seems almost in a trance for a moment, and then blinks her eyes. “I want the mask. Bring it to me and I will consider being merciful.”

In reply to Zahra Shafik (msg # 80):

After waking up, TJ doesn't want to relive that nightmare again.

But oddly, it is now peaceful compared to earlier. Everyone is eating? And what is this in front of him, ginger tea? It smells like ginger, though he is still shaken by his vision.

Since everyone is eating, he decided to order something as well. He called the waiter and placed an order of steak. He drank the tea and felt a bit calmer.

However, what is this woman talking about? Masks? Does she mean tribal masks? Or something more valuable that she demands of it.

He looked around and everyone of his companion seems to be taken by the mention of this mask. What are they hiding?

More importantly, with all these secrets, can I trust them?, TJ wondered.

In reply to Zahra Shafik (msg # 80):

TJ raised his hand sheepishly. "Sorry, but I'm kind of new to the group. What do you mean by masks? And what do you mean by 'seen more than most men'?"

Then he added, "Have you met the Black Man? And if so, are the masks related to him?!"

He demands answers, for whatever his attachment to the Black Man (whose name he still doesn't know, he just ended up calling him the Black Man) to be cut. He can feel his willpower getting weaker everytime he hears his voice. Yet he remains defiant about it, not giving in to the deep, chilling voice of the entity.

But as long as he is in this mood of anger, he can feel that the Black Man is taking over.

He wants to put an end to this relationship.

In reply to Zahra Shafik (msg # 80):

Dermot suppresses a smirk.

"Sounds like the lady here has a fancy for opium, or something like it. They musta laced the mask with some powerful stuff, eh!"

He nudges TJ with his elbow. Misunderstanding TJ’s concern, he continues to crack wise.

“I don't know about this Negro fascination you seem to have. You should loosen up, spend some time with her, though I can’t imagine she’s much company. But that’s the merit of inebriation!”

He shakes his head, giving an insincere tut-tut. Without waiting for any replies, he spares a glance at Johan before addressing the witch.

"I don't suppose we're left much choice. Where can we find you again? I solemnly swear on my Irish honor not to set fire to the place."

His eyes twinkle with mischief as he raises his hand in scout’s honor type salute.

Abdul nervously makes a strange sign with his hand as TJ mentions the Black Man.

‘Ah yes, the Black Man,” smiles Zahra. “I have in fact met him and seen his majesty. He is the masked one indeed – the messenger. A master of disguises, he walks amongst us mortals unseen and unheard. And he shall put on the semblance of man, the waxen mask and the robes that hide, and come down from the world of Seven Suns to mock…”

She turns her attention to Dermot as he speaks. “You and your companions have actually been of some small benefit to my plans. A great event is about to take place here and I have come to witness it. And of course, next year…”  She stops short, her expression becoming guarded.

“In any case, I will take the mask – and any other items you have come across. At your hotel, I presume? Come, we will all go there and fetch it.”

She stands up and gestures to the men surrounding you. “We go. Follow these persons closely and kill them if they try to run.”

In reply to Zahra Shafik (msg # 84):

Johan remains seated, hand firmly on his cane. His sense of humor clearly has left from the expression on his face.
“Lady Zahra,  sit down please.  Our items, at least not the real ones ...are not at our hotel.  Now while a woman demanding that she come to my hotel room is most welcome....generally, I think not in this case.”

Takes a deep sigh.

“Attempting to kill us will, simply lead to your own death and those of your hunde.  I prefer a less violent approach. ....Now what do you offer?”

Johan raises an eye brow and looks at Zahra.

Zahra pauses as Johan speaks. His words seem to strike a chord in her. With a languid wave of her hand she dismisses her followers. They retreat a bit into the general crowd but are still not far away from their mistress.

“You have a point, Herr Doktor,” she says. “No need for things to get messy. My main interest is the mask. If you truly have it, I will agree to a trade. Take Abdul here along and give him the mask. You are then free to do as you please.”

Her face grows hard. “But if you attempt to trick me, you will know such pain as you could never imagine!”

She nods at Abdul, who has followed the conversation with a nervous expression. “Go with them. Get the Mask of Hayama and return here with it.”

Abdul stands up and attempts to look fierce. "Led me to it, you dogs!" he sneers.

In reply to Zahra Shafik (msg # 86):

“This had better be a good trade if I’m takin his ugly mug back to our rooms. I don’t think he’s Rachel’s type,” Dermot replies with a wink.

In reply to Zahra Shafik (msg # 86):

In reply to Zahra Shafik (msg # 84):

She has also seen the Black Man? TJ asked in his head. So does that mean she is also cursed? Also, are the masks related to the Black Man, because she referred to him as "the masked one"?

This is something he was not expecting. He wants to remove the curse, to cut off the Black Man. And yet, through fate's twisted sense of humor, here he is, doing something related to the entity.

Still, this lady might be the key to removing the curse, despite the looks that everyone is giving her. Bad experience maybe?

He just focused on the trade she was offering. "If we give you the mask, what do you have in mind as an exchange for it?", he asked as he also looked at his companions for help.

Nervously, Rachel stood up from her stool, glancing at the rest silently. Wordlessly, she beckoned at Abdul, heading out, but taking a different direction from their hotel.

TJ hesitates for a moment before you leave the hotel bar, intrigued to know more about the Black Man that Zarah claims to know about, but he thinks better of staying behind to talk to the witch.

You enter the crowded streets of Nairobi, striking out towards Torr’s hotel. You are not staying there, but Rachel doubles back to the Norfolk hotel, and quickly enters the room where the Mask of Hayama is stored. She feels a chill as she touches the vile thing, remembering how Bromley claimed to have seen ‘the Ruler of the Gods’ when he put it on back in New York. The mask seems to squirm in her hands as she wraps a cloth around it and hurries out of the hotel.

As you walk towards Torr’s Hotel, Gustav sidles up to Abdul and starts talking to him. “So, you got us, we're not going anywhere. but what is it that motivates you to do this? Surely, you're not just some lackey of Ms Shafik? A lover perhaps?”

Abdul shakes his head in amusement as he roughly pushes a street vendor out of his way. “Hah! I would not be so foolish. That one has… other appetites. No, I just want to stay alive and be rich. When the final ceremony is done, I will be safe – and all of this rabble will be squashed like bugs. If you were smart, you would join us. The Black Pharaoh welcomes new converts!”
This message was last edited by the player at 01:04, Mon 14 Oct 2019.

In reply to Abdul Nawisha (msg # 90):

Dermot inserts himself into the conversation.

“You’re looking to be on the winning side of history, I see. And just what is it, may I ask, that makes ye so confidant in a favorable outcome? I’ve seen some horrible, powerful creatures on this journey, to be sure, but they seem to be bound or hidden away tightly enough without the meddling witches and cults. Why should we believe there’s anything in motion which can’t be stopped?”

Abdul smirks. It is not a pretty sight. “You haven’t seen anything yet! There is something happening in China next year. I don’t know the details, but believe me, the world will never be the same. You will want to be on the right side when it happens!”

As you slowly walk and talk, you arrive at Torr’s Hotel. Rachel has hurried ahead with the mask and is has miraculously managed to obtain a hotel room. The exhausted concierge directs you to room 304, where Rachel is waiting, slightly out of breath.

“Is that the Mask?” asks Abdul. “Give it to me, and I will take it back to Ms. Shafik.”

“I’m not sure if this is what she had in mind” says Dermot. “I think she mentioned some particular markings on the inside...”. He leans towards the mask just slightly and squints, hoping Abdul goes in to have a look. The mask is a carved wooden African mask with four hideous faces perched atop a thick, corded neck with a basket-like reed, feather, and a fabric collar.

“Yes, very odd markings, very interesting, illuminating if I may humbly add”, says Art. Abdul obligingly leans in closer, and Rachel snaps the mask over his face!

As soon as the mask is placed on Abdul’s head, the collar constricts around his face, holding it tightly in position, his agonized grimace clear to all onlookers.

He staggers back, clawing at the mask frantically, but then collapses to the floor, his entire body convulsing. You can hear him screaming through the fabric of the mask;

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

Abdul goes limp, and the mask seems to loose its grip on his head, slowly sliding off. He is drooling and staring into space with a blank expression, blood flowing from his eyes. He looks at you but does not seem to register your presence. His mind is gone.

There's a banging on the hotel wall. "Hey, keep it down in there! People are trying to nap!"


This message was last edited by the player at 19:56, Thu 24 Oct 2019.

Rachel tentatively glances around the room a bit, before picking a throw pillow up from a nearby sofa and slowly holding it down over Abdul's face.

In reply to Rachel Katz (msg # 93):

Dermot starts at the sight of Rachel smothering the man, but ultimately does nothing to stop her. When she comes up, he says, <DarkBlue> “Now that ye’ve had yer fill, we’d better get outta here right quick.”