Post 81:  Stand and Deliver pt 2
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----Irina, with a Dark Young in her sights---
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Irina called to Skuld as she tries to seal the last lines of the pentagram.  The salt and sand are getting thin now and she just has to hope there's enough.  The Dark Young is howling along with Skuld now, tentacles lashing in a pattern.  It's impossible to say if it is resisting Skuld's attempt to control it, or is trying to control her.  Regardless, the young girl is still moving towards it, at least until the Winchester cracks again and the Dark Young is distracted by the shot.  It begins to turn, stamping its hooves as it focuses its attention onto Curtis.  Irina begins the chant to dismiss the Dark Young back to whatever dark abyss from whence it came.   To make matters worse, there is a rumbling sound in along the ridge - a rockslide of some sort, too close to be welcome, with the accompaniment of blue and green arcane lightning.  Whatever is happening back in the caves is now spilling into the outside.   (Irina, roll % dice for spell casting)
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---Jack and Spider, down in Maryland----
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The Mitchell house is two doors down from the Adams house on Oxford street.  The Adams house has a pretty porch, with a wooden set of porch furniture painted with doves, and the lawn needs mowing.  The Mitchell house has no appreciable porch in the front, but an American flag is flying from the house flagpole and the lawn was cut recently.  There is a Ford in the driveway of the Mitchell house with the engine still ticking as it cools, and the agents can hear voices inside.  A knock on the door is quickly answered by a brunette woman in her thirties, wearing an apron over a green dress.  "May I help you ?"  she asked, and once asked for John Mitchell, she called back over her shoulder, "John !  Someone from work for you."  The house was tidy and clean, with a lot of bookshelves full of books.
John Mitchell, tall, thin and prematurely balding, stepped into the room from what was probably the kitchen.  He was wearing a grey suit that was rumpled from a day's work.  "I was hoping that something would be done," he said, in a very reserved voice. "I'm sure you'll want to speak to Joy, also.  She's in the kitchen icing some cookies for Amanda.  Have you found out anything ?"  John Mitchell has worked at the Indian Head labs for several years, primarily in the metallic coating lab, looking for ways to reduce frictional coefficients between pieces of metal in a firearm.   His lab was one of the boring ones with tables, scales and clean countertops.
In the kitchen, a girl of about eleven is studiously piping green sugar caps onto red iced cookies that are meant to represent strawberries.  She has a smudge of red icing on her cheek and a determined look.  "Almost....done...."  her hair is the same rich brown as her mother's but she is tall and thin like her father.  The sharp look in her eyes when she sets the icing funnel down lets the agents know that Joy Mitchell is clever; she measures them up in a look.   "Dad, try the ugly one on the end, do I have the jam to cookie ratio correct ?"  Her father, to his credit, examines the cookie with great attention, finally breaking it in half to check on the filling, sniffing it, and then tasting it.  "Success !"  He pronounced.
"No more testing cookies, dinner in a few minutes.  Would you gentlemen like to sit down ?  Nothing fancy, just some pork chops and potatoes."  Mrs. Mitchell invites Jack and Spider to dinner.
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GM: Actions, please, for the next few minutes of game time, please respond by Saturday, 12 September, next post Sunday.  I hope you are all well and dealing with the New Normal.
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Irina felt the power of the chant moving through her, and could only hope that all of the future stories about her being a magician, and the descendant of Baba Yaga, were not just overblown hype...

[OOC: 10! I guess not...]



Starting to feel it a bit after so many months. This weekend was one of the more normal yet - a socially distanced visit to the cinema, an outdoor barbeque with a small bubble of friends, an afternoon in a pub garden, but the dreaded Second Wave seems to be on us now here in the UK. I hope everyone else is staying safe and well.

Jack gives the bookshelves a once-over when the chance arises. He responds to the dinner invitation with a warm smile and a dip of his head to their hostess that suggests a bow.
“Thank you most kindly, ma’am.”
He will compliment the food and the array of books, and will make pleasant conversation, contrasting Spider’s far-off tales with his own stories of growing up in rural Maryland. He will try especially to win the approval of the young girl. He will let their hosts take the lead as far as bringing up the incident in question. When asked what they do, he will say they are troubleshooters for a small branch of the War Department that looks into unusual occurrences that might represent threats.

Post 82:  Stand and Deliver pt 3
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-----Jack and Spider, at dinner with the Mitchells----
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Jack looks over the bookshelves and finds there is a good collection of scientific texts as well as classical works, many of them with bookmarks.  The chemistry section is particularly notable, including texts dating to the 1850s as well as the most recent Modern Chemistry.  Spider's origins also intrigue the family and the two agents feel welcome to dine there.  It turns out a branch of the Mitchells are not far from Jack's home.
The table is quickly reset for the two agents to join in.  Joy sits across from Jack and notices that he correctly picks up the proper tableware.  As promised, dinner is simple, pork chops with mashed potatoes, peas and carrots.  Grace is not said.  John Mitchell takes the first chop and passes the plate to Spider, who is next to Mrs. Mitchell.  Once everyone has settled their food on their plates from the bowls, and Mrs. Mitchell has poured out iced tea or milk to drink with the meal, not one of the Mitchells hesitates.   Spider and Jack don't even need to ask, the family knows full well why they are here.
"So...." John Mitchell says, as his wife started, "How was the drive down ?" and Joy's "Are you going to do something about Amanda's attack ?"  There was a chorus of apologies, then Joy got in the first question.  "What are you going to do about Amanda ?"  she demanded, spearing her pork chop and mercilessly slicing it.  It takes very little to get Joy's story, and it is told with a dry, scientific detachment, as if she has gone over every moment and dissected it for study.
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"We were laughing and racing each other to get to the woods to set off our fireworks," Joy said.  "The moonlight was bright so the path was easy to make out, with the leaves off the trees.  Aiming them over the waterway was the safest option.  I had a copper chloride two-stage rocket I wanted to see and I was carrying the howitzer, Amanda had the bigger box with the rest of the fireworks.  It's not the first time we did fireworks, last summer our team won the debate challenge.  We had a spade to dig up dirt in event of a misfire.  It was not surprising that we did not hear any wildlife, we were making enough noise to scare anything around - which also made us easy to follow.  The Major must have heard us, I remember seeing his kitchen lights on, but he didn't come out to yell at us.   He did last summer.   We continued into the park until we could see the water and I set up the howitzer.   Amanda helped me and we decided we'd start with the small stuff, the Roman candles.  I had one in my hand, ready to set it and light the fuse, so I had the lighter."  She pulled it from her pocket; it was a well-used and maintained foxhole trench lighter.  "It was a lot of fun up until then.  I was happy, Amanda was happy, and we were going to see some great fireworks.  Something ran at us out of the woods, big, more like an animal than a man, and it knocked down Amanda.  She screamed at it.  It took a step back from her, looking at me; I was so scared I went up a tree like a squirrel, the Roman candle in my teeth.  It looked like a wolf-faced man, some kind of cross of species.  Snout, hairy, paws instead of hands, hunched over as if it wanted to go on four legs.  It couldn't climb up, or it didn't want to, but it clawed at the tree I was in.  Then it turned back to Amanda and went to claw at her.  I grabbed my lighter and lit the Roman candle.  It was the only thing I could think of to do, it was more than twice my size and I don't know how to fight.  I pointed the candle at it and shut my eyes so I wouldn't lose my night vision.  It howled and I heard it run, but it had already hurt my best friend."  Joy's iron control over her emotions slipped just a tiny bit, a small tremor of the hand holding her fork.  "I had to drop the Roman candle in the water before it burned me, and I went to Amanda.  There was so much...blood.  I yelled for help.  I couldn't leave her.  It seemed to take forever, but the Major came out of his house.  He lost one of his carpet slippers on the way and he was wearing a plaid bathrobe.  We carried Amanda out to the road and then Amanda's parents were there, and then Mom, and Dad, and Officer Webster.  He drove her to hospital with her Mom."  Joy's fork was gently set back on her plate; she had lost her appetite.
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Her mother looked from Jack to Spider, then said, "We hope you can find it, or at least stop that from happening again."
"It's not a simple problem," said John Mitchell, very quietly.  "I cannot disclose what I am doing, just the basic information that would be shared between Bureaus under the DoD.  I cannot say what other colleagues of mine are doing."  He also set his fork down.  "So I asked a friend, to ask a friend, to send for help."
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------Irina, with Dark Young----
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Irina's chant ran rough against the keening of the girl Skuld and the howling of the horrible Dark Young.  She felt the mana drain from her as she completed the ritual, so fast that her knees sagged and if she hadn't been near a tree, she'd have fallen.  The lines of salt and sand lit up, a ghostly grey fog misting up from the ground within their perimeter.  The lashing tentacles begin to reach for Curtis but their motion seems to slow, enough that the student can hurl a hatchet at the creature and have it bite deep.  The Dark Young roars, pawing at the ground preparing to charge, but the sound seems far away.  The heavy fog rises, swirling up over the shape of monster and girl, obscuring them from view, and then it boils up over the pentagram's lines and Irina can barely see her hand in front of her face.  The fog roils and rolls, sounds coming from it that seem as if the monster is galloping, trying to find the way out........then the shrill yelp of Skuld, suddenly cut off.......
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GM:  Sorry to hear that the Second Wave is hitting, Richard.  Hope everyone can stay healthy.  We were gathering illegally to play Clank! just to maintain some sanity. Haven't seen the inside of a restaurant since February.   As usual, everyone please send in your responses by Saturday, 19 September, post will be on Sunday.
----------------------------------------

“That’s definitely why we’re here,” Jack replies to Joy. “Whatever you’re prepared to tell us will be of immense help.”
When she tells her story, he pays rapt attention and does not take notes or look away. After she’s done, he says gently, “Miss Mitchell, your quick thinking probably saved your friend’s life. And that was a top-notch field report, equal to or better than many I have heard from trained agents. Your perceptiveness and analytical abilities are exceptional.” He then speaks more broadly, to answer the questions of the whole family.
“We can’t talk much about other cases we’ve worked on, but I can tell you that we have faced situations that were... comparable. And we resolved them satisfactorily. We have agents and specialists with a very wide spectrum of experience and expertise, from all over the world — “and here he nods at Spider— “including both the sciences and subjects that are generally thought of as supernatural. The latter, we have learned, can be quite real, even if little known and only partially understood. Studying them is part of our mission, to better eliminate those that are threats to the public.
“When I first heard about this wolf-man, I thought perhaps it was merely a deranged person. Or someone whose mind had been altered by something like hypnosis or drugs or unusual plants.” And here he gives Mr. Mitchell the merest look, as if involuntary, to suggest he knows about some of the work at the lab.
“Those types are not uncommon. But” — here he meets Joy’s eyes — “your clear description of a hybrid animal-man puts it in a rarer category. The legends of European werewolves, as well as the transformational beliefs of such native tribes as the Mohawk and Navajo, have some basis in reality. In short, there really are wolfmen. Your eyes were not playing tricks on you.
“So we need to find this person. We have already been investigating around town. Your workplace, Mr. Mitchell, immediately drew our attention. It’s not unknown for government experiments to get out of hand. So far, however, there does not seem to be a connection. Thus we need to broaden our search. With that in mind, I would like to ask all of you to think back over the past few months for anything out of the ordinary. Anything at all, even if it doesn’t seem remotely related to the attack. Strange coincidences. People who appeared in unusual places, or people who weren’t  where they were supposed to be. Unusual objects found or seen. Also, if you have heard anyone say that the attack reminded them of something in the past, that might be significant. We’ve done background research on the town, but of course we might have missed something. You and your neighbors have the best feel for what is normal in your community and what is not. So please take a moment and think back. And if nothing comes to mind now, something may later. We’ll be around town and we’ll leave you our card, of course.”

Post 83: Stand and Deliver pt 4
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---Irina, with Dark Young---
---Still stuck in a dense, confusing fog----
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-----Jack and Spider, Maryland----
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John Mitchell has a tell; he takes off his eyeglasses and polishes them with his handkerchief when he's worried.  "As an employee of the Navy, I cannot comment," he said finally, after Jack asked them to consider things.  Joy flicked a glance his way, her eyes narrow and calculating.  Truly, the young girl would be a formidable opponent.
"If," Joy Mitchell said, as her mother started to give HER the squinty look, "there are wolfmen, and other things, and you agents are ALSO government, like my father - then you ought to have more of a conversation.  And the Major is the biggest busybody in the village.  If anything was weird, he'd know about it."
"Major Jenkins is writing a book about the local history," Mrs. Mitchell said. "He lives right by the park, the white cottage with the rose garden.  I can give you a tray of brownies to take to him, that might make him a little...more amiable."
"He's a cranky old man," Joy said.
"Joyce Marie Mitchell !" hissed her mother, and the girl dropped her gaze to the table.
"I apologise for my behaviour," she said quietly.  "He DID help me with Amanda.  I owe him."
"Take your plate to the kitchen, then, and I'll get those brownies," her mother said, rising up to take more things to the kitchen.  Joy followed her, leaving the glasses-polishing John Mitchell at the table.
"Be careful who you investigate," the scientist said in a low voice. "Some of them have very powerful sponsors.  And some of them were in the War.  Not on our side."  He put his glasses back on, and still looked worried.
"Joy will take those strawberry cookies to Amanda and ask her if she can talk to you two gentlemen," Mrs. Mitchell said, giving Jack the plate of brownies with a tin foil neatly wrapped on top.  "Just leave us a telephone number.  Amanda is very concerned about her appearance and she may not want to speak to you in person."
"And if you have any good stories about monsters, I would like to hear them," Joy said, after her mother's back was turned again.
"Oh, Joy," her father sighed, taking his glasses off to polish them again.  The clock on the wall begins to chime out 6 o'clock.  The evening is drawing into night.
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GM:  Actions, etc, for the next few minutes of game time, please respond by Saturday 26 September, next post Sunday.  Hope everyone is doing as well as can be expected, may you all stay healthy !
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Irina sags with relief - all she can do now is to hope that that will hold it and dismiss it. She tries to make her way to find Skuld, wherever she last saw/heard her, shouting for her.

"Skuld!"

She will also try to call out for Curtis. "Curtis - get clear - protect the others! I'll be with you as soon as I can!"

"Curtis? Curtis where are you?"

Jack answers Mr. Mitchell: “ I understand your reluctance, and of course you have your duty. If you think of anything further that you can share with us, just call. We’re trying to make sure no one else  in your community gets hurt.“
“Mrs. Mitchell, thank you for your hospitality and for a delicious dinner. And for helping us by supplying the brownies. Very clever.“
“And as for you, Miss Mitchell,“ Jack says, “we greatly appreciate your help on this case. I’m sure you will excel in whatever path you choose in life. If you decide you want to pursue monsters, come see us in Washington when you finish your education. Until then, you can consider yourself an honorary deputy.” He lowers his voice to a whisper and removes from his pocket an obsidian spearhead. “Keep this as a token of my appreciation. I took it from a snake-man underneath the Great Serpent Mound in Ohio.”

Unless Spider has anything to add, the pair will take the Brownies and head for the Major’s house.

Post 84: Stand and Deliver pt 5
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-----Jack and Spider, Maryland, night-----
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In the quiet little village at evening, it seems hard to imagine that something terrible could happen, such as some strange beast maiming a young girl.  Joy Mitchell thanks Jack politely for his gift and pockets it, disappearing into the kitchen to wrap up her special plate of cookies for Amanda.  The two agents take the brownie offering over to the white cottage with all the roses, which are budding up nicely for March.  They knock at the door with the fancy brass knocker and get a grumpy, "Hold on, hold on...."  The door opens up to reveal a burly, bald man of late sixties, whose bearing shows a military background, though his clothes are rather shabby, a ratty old woolen cardigan over a worn canvas shirt and trousers.  He is wearing carpet slippers that look new.  He pushes his spectacles up his nose and gives the agents a long look, then sniffs.  "That Mitchell woman made brownies," he says.  "Major Ira Jenkins, if you didn't already know.  You must be the strangers from Washington.  What do you want ?"  He does not have a Maryland accent.  If Jack had to guess, it would be more Southern.  To Spider, he's just another Yank.
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The cottage is small, with a low ceiling.  Despite the fairly warm evening there is a small fire in the fireplace, where a half-sprung old overstuffed chair has a newspaper spread over one arm, with a lamp nearby for reading.   A laden but organised desk is by the window, with a typewriter and folders of notes on the blotter, with a nice pair of German binoculars in a leather case.   In a tidy wire cage a sleepy green parakeet twitters and bobs its head.  "Tenshun !  Tenshun !"  the parakeet cheeps, deciding to wake up.  The room is noticeably warm.
"At ease, soldier," Major Jenkins said to it, the bird happily fluffing its feathers and eyeing the two agents curiously.  "Put the plate on the desk, I'll heat up some coffee."  At least so far the old man hasn't been outright rude.  He shuffles into the kitchen area, limping, and they hear a coffee pot being set on an iron stove.  There are few decorations to the room, just a framed award for "Floribunda Aachen, 1921 Maryland Garden Show, First Place."  Books on cultivating roses and local history are stacked neatly near the desk.  There are stove-stoking sounds from the kitchen, with a muffled swear and a clank as the Major shuts the stove door with the poker.   "Arthritis is giving me hell today," the Major said, returning with a mismatched trio of mugs and a rose-decorated sugar bowl.  "Don't have any fresh milk, but there's a tin in the cupboard.  Ask your questions."  He sits in the stuffed chair, letting Jack and Spider decide who takes the desk chair and who stands.   The parakeet opts to check for sunflower seeds in its food dish.
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------Irina, with Dark Young, night---
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Irina struggles to see through the gouts of fog.  She is relieved that she no longer hears the stamping, roaring monster, but is a little more concerned when she hears a plaintive wail in what sounds like Old Norse.  "Over here, Ma'am !"  she hears Curtis shout back, in as low a voice as the hidden girl can muster.  Something moves through the mist; it is Curtis, wild-eyed and holding a hatchet that is dripping black ichor.  The student lurches back into a bank of fog and Irina can hear Skuld crying. "Injured girl, ma'am, looks like she broke her leg," Curtis reports.  Irina stumbles over the rough ground, across the huge hoof prints, where Skuld is sprawled and clutching her left leg, which clearly is broken, a compound fracture.  Curtis is pulling out a bandanna to help staunch the bleeding, but is unwilling to relinquish the hatchet and is looking around with considerable wariness. It is no small wonder that everyone's sanity has been tested by these events.
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As Irina takes in the injury, which is bad, she hears other voices calling in the swirling fog - mostly women's voices, though one sounds deeper, and they are all calling in Old Norse.
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GM: Please respond with actions, etc, for the next few minutes of game time, by Saturday, 3 October, next post Sunday.  Hope you are all well and surviving all the many challenges of the Coronapocalypse.
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Irina has no particular skill with first aid, but will help Curtis with Skuld as best she can.

"We need to get out of here," she tells Curtis quietly. "If those witches find us we're done for. Can you help me carry her?"

"Skuld..." Irina tells her, "I know you're in terrible pain, but we have to get you out of here. We can get help, but we can't let your people catch us. You've already been brave enough for one day, but can you try to be quiet as we carry you? I'm so sorry..."

Irina can't provide anything more helpful than a stick to bite down on for now, but hopes that John Stuart might be a bit better at dealing with injuries as and when they can reach him.

Hopefully between Curtis and Irina they can move Skuld, and prevent her from putting any weight on her injured leg. The aim now is to get back to the camp and the men before they are found by the lost tribespeople.

Jack sits and thanks the Major for the coffee. “Black is fine.” He lets Spider start things off to get the man relaying what happened. He’ll wait until the man’s finished before complimenting him on his perceptiveness and asking for any necessary clarifications. After those (if any) he’ll repeat what he asked the Mitchells about anything else unusual, even if it doesn’t seem to relate: strange people or goings on, weird coincidences, reminders of events from the past, etc. “Anything might help.”

Post 85: Stand and Deliver pt 6
Late March, 1925
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----Spider and Jack, Maryland----
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Spider plainly asks about the incident where Amanda Adams was mauled, giving over his badge, which gets examined quite thoroughly by the old man.  "Mmmm." Jenkins mutters, handing it back, face setting in a scowl as he recalled the event.  "I remember the night.  My feet were hurting and I was soaking them in epsom salts.  Was about to go yell at them girls for being too damn noisy.  Then I heard the Mitchell girl screaming for help.  Took me a while to get over there, and then, the poor Adams girl.   Got her to the road, and the Preacher came running up, and then Webster loaded the girl into his patrol car with her mother to take her to hospital.   Lost a slipper.  Never found it.  Never saw the creature they said did it."  He sniffed again, carefully got to his feet and shuffled into the kitchen, emerging with the coffee pot to pour out three cups.  "But if the Mitchell girl said she saw a monster, I believe her.  Plenty of strange stuff going on around here."  He picked up the tin foil on the plate and seized a large brownie, eyeing it with the lust of a true sugar addict, then added about five spoonsful of sugar to his coffee.  "There are Penn Dutch folk stories about a local creature like a wolf, but standing like a human.  It's called a Hexenwolf.  Or a Dwayyo. And it's the mortal enemy of the Snallygaster - another creature, called a schneller geist by the Penn Dutch.  Teddy Roosevelt might have tried to hunt the Snallygaster back in 1909."  He bit into the brownie.  "That Mitchell woman can bake and no mistaking that."  He sipped his coffee, added more sugar, and then leaned over towards his desk, pulling out a file from a stack of them.  "I also checked on a similar type of creature to the Snallygaster, the Jersey Devil.  Been a strange year.  First an earthquake, then the big tornado, and all the fog."  He finished his brownie and sipped more coffee, then wiped his fingers on his robe before riffling through the folder.  "It's notable that several of the accounts say that the Dwayyo can disappear.  It may be more...unusual... in its makeup from a garden-variety werewolf."  He held up a very amateurish pencil sketch of a creature with a dog's snout and shaggy hair, on two legs but with clawed hands.  "Got this from a farmer near Fredricksville, said it was after his goats along about 1902, but he shot at it and then got a Hex sign for his barn.  Never troubled again."  The next sketch was an elaborate pentacle, with an oak leaf border around it.  "But I imagine you know a lot about such things."
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----Irina, Pennsylvania-------
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Irina asks Curtis to help carry Skuld.  "No problem, Miss," said Curtis.  The girl masquerading as a boy dead-lifted the whimpering Skuld over one shoulder, and still retained the hatchet.  They headed towards the fire, a dim glow in the fog, and soon found the campsite.  Frank was sitting up, blinking and reaching for his shotgun, and John Stuart was groggily waking up.  "What the ?"  Frank said, taking in the sight of Curtis with a girl draped over one shoulder.
"Bring the girl within the light, that I may tend her painful plight," John Stuart said.  He scrambled to his feet, adjusted his eyepatch, looked at the wound then went for his pack, hauling out an oilskin wrapped bundle.  The fog was still thick, especially within the pentacle.  Skuld froze, staring at him, after Curtis gently lowered her to the ground.  Working with calm efficiency John Stuart cleaned, wrapped and splinted the leg - with Skuld not even blinking.  Within the fog some lights were starting to glimmer, various blues, greens and whites, more like will of the wisps.
"Ah, can someone tell me what the heck happened ?"  Frank asked in a whisper.  "Who's this girl ?  Why's she hurt ?  Why's she look like that ?"
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GM:  Actions, please, for the next few minutes of game time, please respond by Saturday, 10 October, next post is Sunday. Glad to have Spider back !  And I completely understand the absence, all of us have been tested to strange extremes by the pandemic.  Hope everyone is all right and maintaining Sanity.
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Jack asks for more information on the hexenwolf/dwayyo — how it might be detected, tracked, and/or warded against.
“Is there anyone that you think might be involved in these attacks?” he asks the major levelly. “And you say there are many strange things going on – have you detected any overarching pattern? What do you think might be behind it all?”

"The hillbillies are some kind of survival of the Norse settlement of the area," Irina said. After the terror of the past hour, she feels herself starting to sag slightly as the adrenaline wears off.

"They live as their forebears did, crafts and stories passed down by oral tradition. And... they appear to be a matriarchy. They keep only a few men alive, for... breeding purposes. The rest are all women. Skuld here helped me escape - I owe her my life. And we all owe her a debt for helping to destroy the creature in the woods, the thing that killed the hunters. It did that to her leg before I was able to finally dispel it."

She takes a deep breath.
"But the threat is not ended. Mr Stuart - the vikings - whatever you want to call them - are after us. We should not stay here too long. They are not numerous, but they have powers of... well, powers that place them beyond your or indeed my ability to harm them, and they are angry, and will seek to kill us all. Will Skuld be well enough for us to get her back to the truck? I need to get back to a telephone, to call my office and let them know what is going on here."

Post 86: Stand and Deliver pt 6
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---Irina, in Pennsylvania---
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"What...." Frank said, looking at Irina with big eyes.  Curtis had gone to the packs and was calmly reloading the Winchester.
"They will listen to me, as you will soon see," John Stuart said to Irina, gently patting Skuld's shoulder to reassure her.  "Frank, carry this lady fair to the creekside there; wait for me to clear the air."
Frank cautiously settled Skuld into his arms, the girl still looking at John Stuart with wide eyes.  She hadn't made a sound for a while.  Once they were out of earshot, Stuart nodded sharply to Irina.
"Odin Allfather speaks in rhymes," he said in a low voice to Irina.  "I have one eye.  It may buy us time, but there's no way we can make a run for the Model T before they get to us.  The young girl has a bad break.  Do you know any old Norse ?  Anything ?  And Curtis will take you back on the trail.  Leave me here.  I'll keep them busy.  You are all my responsibility."
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The bobbing lights, about four or five feet off the ground and still wrapped in fog are drawing closer, along with voices speaking in Old Norse, with "Skuld ?" as a common element.  Irina has perhaps a minute or two to dredge up some memories from Maxwell's torturous lectures on the Norse. John Stuart readies a .45 and tucks it into the small of his back.
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---Jack and Spider, in Maryland----
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Jenkins takes in Spider's mention of the swamp testing site and considers it a while, sneaking his second brownie. "That would explain a lot," the old man said thoughtfully.  "I don't go out near the labs, the fishing is dreadful.  I prefer going on on the bay anyway.  I took note of the fog when I started having nightmares - the kind that keep you up the rest of the night.  Couldn't work on my folklore book, couldn't concentrate on the roses, nor read a book.  Let me get my journal." He got to his feet with a wince and shuffled towards a shut door, which led to a very spartan bedroom, and returned with a leatherbound book.  "I noted the fog.  Wrote down the nightmares too.  Not much else to do."  He ate the rest of the brownie and wiped his fingers on his robe before going through the pages.  "About two weeks ago; then last month.  I was away in Baltimore for a few weeks at my sister's so I could have missed one or two.  Fog smelt terrible on the one two weeks ago, bitter and nasty.  I'll go through my journal and write down the details tomorrow."
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As for Jack's interest in the Hexenwolf or Dwayyo, Jenkins nodded.  "It's an old legend.  Early 18th century.  A humanoid wolf creature, not known to attack humans very often, but known to attack livestock.  Not like a typical werewolf which is more active during the full moon when it transforms, and apparently a hex sign like this pentagram is enough to keep it at bay.   There are also several barns with seven-pointed stars painted on them.  I am collating the local folklore and legends of the area.   As far as I can tell, the Hexenwolf doesn't turn into a werewolf, it looks like that all the time, but it can disappear.  And it likes to hunt the Snallygaster - the Schnelle Geist.  If, as you suggest, that the Naval labs are releasing some kind of gas that is corrupting their habitat - that could lead to trouble, like the Adams girl."  Jenkins seemed to be taking all of this rather calmly, and speaking as if he considered werewolves and other monsters to be real.  He slurped down the last of his coffee and contemplated a third brownie.  "I should not like to have the Snallygaster show up and cause trouble, certainly," he said as he took up the treat.
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GM: Actions, etc, for the next few minutes of game time, please respond by 17 October, Saturday, next post is Sunday.  Hope you are all well and able to stay sane in RL.
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Irina looks puzzled at Stuart at first, then her eyes widen as she understands what he is planning and she manages an admiring grin at his audacity. She looks at the eyepatch. Impersonating Odin? It might even work.

She thinks back and tries to remember Maxwell's classes on Norse archaeology. Rune stones. Boat graves. The Lewis chessmen. Elder Furthark. They had some inscriptions to transcribe and translate...
'Wotan and Wigi are...'

"L... logathor," she finally manages. "That means a magician. Er... 'leubo' means 'beloved'."
She tries to calm her mind and think.
"Father, brother, mother, daughter, sister are all the same as in English. So is guest. The gods you know - Odin, Thor, Freya and so on. Er... skildr is a shield. Heather is a wasteland. Armr is a hand. Kallar is 'he calls'. Wikik is viking, as in a raid. Thar is there. Urthr is fate. 'Ek' - like ich in German is 'I am'. I mean, if you know any German, then if you say it in a Scandinavian way, it may not sound too far out."

[FWIW that's a 12 on an archaeology of 70%.]

Irina is reluctant to leave Stuart to the tender mercies of the furies.

"Are you sure about this? I can't let you stand alone. They mustn't see me but... I can stay in sight, in case I can help."





Just about!

Presumably you've seen that Verizon are closing Yahoo Groups down in December?

https://www.zdnet.com/article/...on-december-15-2020/

It's a great tragedy to see it all go - so many roleplaying groups I was part of whose archives will be lost. It's worse than when Yahoo shut down Geocities. Such is the ephemeral nature of the internet I guess. I have Miskatonic University preserved in my email records, but it's not the same.

Richard

“That’s a good idea about the tests disturbing the natural habitat,” Jack says to Jenkins. “Are either the hexenwolf or the snallygaster reputed to live in that type of area? Maybe the snallygaster or other prey of the hexenwolf has been driven off, so the hexenwolf resorted to hunting vulnerable humans. Or maybe the poisonous gas disoriented the hexenwolf, and it mistook the girls for snallygasters.” Jack shakes his wryly, agreeing with Spider’s assessment that they are not making concrete progress.
“Who could we talk to in the area about the hex symbols? They might know something. And at least we could recommend that people in the town consider using them for protection.”
Other than that, Jack likewise thanks the major and gives him a card with contact information. “I’d be interested in reading your book when it’s published. Thank you for your time.”
On to the Adams family, if it’s still early enough(?)

Post 87: Loose Ends pt 1

------------------------------
----Irina, Pennsylvania--------
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John Stuart nods once, as Curtis takes up the hatchet and tucks it into a belt loop.  "If you hear trouble, make for the car," he said.  "If I call you Irina, it's safe."  With that, Curtis' calloused hand was on her shoulder, hauling her into the deeper eddies of the fog, where it was huddling over the creek.  Irina could hear voices, then some exclamations.  Through the fog she could see the white-clad strange folk of the mountains, several of them holding up one hand, in which a flame could be seen dancing, like a conjured magical torchlight.  Each of them was a slightly different colour and size.  The brightest was the pale green one held aloft by Verdi, who squared up to John Stuart.  There was a conversation of sorts, with some more exclamations as the odd folk took in the appearance of a one-eyed man.  It was then that Irina noticed something else; Curtis could imitate bird calls - specifically, the quarking caw of a raven.
It was an agonising few minutes that felt like hours.  Finally, Irina heard John Stuart's voice.  "Curtis, Irina, Frank; all is well.  Bring the young lady for a healing spell."
---------------
"Oathinn Alfadr, heill, heillir dags og dottors, oreiuim augum litioo okkr pinig og fri ar," Verdi said.  "My daughter will be returned to me safely and we will speak of many things, strangers.  Urda has fallen in battle.  Her way was not the path we now choose to take.  The Sending of the Mother of the Forest was as much a danger to us as to our foes.  The magic of Irina was mighty.   Tonight there is peace.  Fridur."  Skuld was nearly unconscious, clinging to Frank, but stirred as her mother touched her face.  Then Verdi looked at Irina, and Irina noticed that one of Verdi's eyes was now occluded white, and the woman looked exhausted.  "We owe you a debt, Irina of the Rus witches," she said. "Now we will go, in peace.  You will do the same.  No one will disturb you this night."  One of the few men stepped forward to take Skuld from Frank.   It had been a long and difficult night, along with a great expenditure of mana on Irina's part; she was near done in and the campfire looked as cheery a home as might be had.  The drifts of mist began to slew away on a slight western breeze as John Stuart set more wood on the fire.  Frank looked as if he was considering about a hundred questions, but couldn't figure out what to ask first, so he simply stood up and took the next watch.  John Stuart quietly sat and tended the fire as Curtis slept.  "Must have missed the best part," he said softly.  "Get some rest, Miss Pallenberg; we'll be leaving in the morning."
------------------
Morning did dawn cold and clear, with a pair of grey squirrels chattering in a tree along the cliff and some sparrows eyeing up the biscuits that were heating by the fire.  The ground where Irina had cast her spell was trampled heavily, but the huge hoofprints could still be see here and there in the softer earth.  The monster had been unable to break the bonds of the spell.  Unsurprisingly, Stuart was drawing in his notebook, recording with careful detail the exact turn of the creek, the formation of the stones and the runestone's pictograms.  Curtis came back from the creek with a bucket of water and nudged Frank awake with a boot.

--------------------------------
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---Spider and Jack, Maryland---
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"Sightings of both are common to Maryland as a whole, though most seem to be Frederick County, especially the areas of South Mountain and the Middletown Valley."  Jenkins replied, with noted reserve.  "I'll write down some of the details for you and include a copy of the sightings map I've made."  He takes Jack's card and places it carefully on his desk.
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The evening is still early enough for the two agents to knock on the Adams' family door.  It opens fairly quickly, to show a plump man in a black shirt, white collar in place.  He has a notepad in one hand and a pencil tucked behind his ear.  "Yes ?" he ventures, looking at the two of them.  "Joy mentioned you might come along.  I'll tell the girls you're here and ask if Amanda wants to speak to you.  Beth," the last was directed to the plump woman in the floury apron that was looking around the kitchen wall at them, "is there coffee ?"
"I can make some, just let me get the next batch of rolls out of the oven," the woman said, disappearing into the kitchen.  The preacher nods.
"Please wait a moment in the parlour," he said.  The room was warm, the decor leaning towards bright chintz and cotton quilting, with some bible verses rendered in good needlepoint hanging in frames on the wall.  The smell of baking bread was amazing, but nothing compared to the Mitchell brownies.  A heavily bookmarked Bible was sitting on a chair by the lamp, and a few issues of the Reader's Digest and Time magazine were in a magazine rack beside it.
They were served coffee in a few minutes, by the preacher's wife, who had fresh cream in a small cow-shaped creamer; it was a thousandfold times better than the sludge Jenkins had served them.  But it was Joy who came out to tell them the bad news.
"I asked her, but she's not going to speak to you face to face," Joy said.  "She'll talk to you on the telephone.  Just the thought of it was enough to make her cry again.  Old man Jenkins give you a hard time ?"  She passed over a note with the telephone number of the Adams house to them.
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GM:  Yes, I knew that yahoogroups was going to eventually close.  I tried to save some posts, but there's going to be gaps.  We've spent years together adventuring in the madness of Call of Cthulhu.  I had no idea that the game would last for decades, but I know I am grateful to have such dedicated, challenging, loyal players.
As always, Please respond by Saturday, 24 October, next post is Sunday.
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Irina nods wearily in reply.

"Thank you, Verdi. I am sorry about Urda, but I hope that this day will be the start of a better way for you. As long as you do not send the Mother of the Forest again, then my people will leave in you peace as well."

"Skuld - thank you for all that you have done. Your bravery was an inspiration. I hope that we meet again, in better circumstances."



Irina does so, gratefully.

She wakes to find the tracks of the creature, and shudders to think what might have happened had the ritual not worked. That felt entirely too close for comfort, and Ben had been right to warn her not to try it on her own. Still, it was done now.

She finds that she is ravenously hungry.

"Well," she says to no-one in particular. "That was a night such as I won't care to repeat again."

She'll ask John Stuart for a copy of the pictograms - someone might find them interesting - bot otherwise is happy to be heading out of these woods and back to civilisation.

Jack nods in understanding when Joy tells them her friend’s decision, and seconds Spider’s remarks.
He thanks their hostess quite sincerely for the coffee, and asks the clergyman: “What do you make of this creature the girls saw, sir? Does your scripture or your faith offer any insight that might help us end this problem and prevent further attacks? You know about the protective hex signs, I’m sure—do you think they’ll help? And have you or your wife noticed any other strange goings-on in recent months?”

Spider thanks Joy.  "Tell her we'll call and ask for when she is ready.  Jenkins wasn't too bad.  And you can tell her we're doing all we can to make sure whatever it was won't hurt anyone ever again."
__._,_.___

Post 88: Loose Ends pt 2
---------------
----Jack and Spider, Maryland---
---------------
The Preacher takes in Jack's question with a sigh.  "I believe that my daughter was attacked by something not normal.  As far as the Good Book goes, there is nothing that leads me to anything but to have Faith that all things happen for His Reasons.  There is much more to my daughter than her looks, but she needs time to learn that.  As far as the hex signs you mention, we have no dealings with such folk beliefs.  And we're far too busy to lend any attention to anything that old Jenkins character has to say."  Joy kept quiet, but her eyes narrowed.   She slid out of the room, presumably to talk to Amanda again.  As the two agents were on their way out of the house, she met up with them again.
"I'm sorry Amanda won't talk to you." she said.  "I have a picture I drew of her that shows the claw marks.  Maybe it will help.  And maybe you're right about Jenkins.  He's certainly one who watches everything."  She handed over a simple but accurate sketch that shows some ravaging scars across a young girl's forehead, left cheek and nose.  They were more widely spaced than a wolf's paw and the claws had done some terrible damage.
"Tell me if you find anything," Joy said.  "PLEASE.  And what I can do to help."
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-----Irina, Pennsylvania---
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The late night and the brisk Spring air had given Irina quite an appetite.  She ate three fairly stale biscuits and some oatmeal mush flavoured with maple sugar.  John Stuart obliges her with an exact copy of the runestone and Curtis tosses some burnt crumbs into the bushes, where the squirrels squabble for them.  This quickly ends when a pair of ravens dive into the brush and attack one of the squirrels.  The campsite is carefully taken down by Curtis and Frank, under Stuart's watchful eye.  The fire's ashes are soaked and stirred, and soaked again with the creek water, their packs are loaded and the sun is shining in a pale blue sky as the party leaves the rock ridge where the strange folk dwell.
"What I don't get is, Mr. Stuart, what exactly happened, because it was like someone sapped me and I didn't wake up until dark," Frank said.  "There WAS a big monster, wasn't there ?"
"There was, but I wasn't in a place to see the activity," John Stuart replied.  "You saw the tracks.  What was it ?"
"Nothing from around here," muttered Curtis.
"All right," Frank said, lapsing into a frustrated scowl.  "If you don't want to say, don't."
"Let's get on the trail.  Curtis, take point."  Stuart straightened his broad-brimmed hat and shouldered his pack, taking a fresh-cut sapling as a walking stick.  He stirred the wet ashes a third time, then set off North, towards the Model T.  As Irina followed after him, she noticed the pattern drawn in the ashes was an angular fish-like symbol, a diamond with a tail to it.   There were several of this rune inscribed on the runestone.  A small doe bounded away from the creek as they came round the trail toward it, and the threatening atmosphere of the place seemed lifted.
It took a few hours of hard walking, but soon enough they saw the Model T, where Edith was camped.  A coffee percolator was on the boil and a chair was set up, with the old lady comfortably settled in a wool blanket, reading one of her detective stories.
"Hello !"  she called and waved to them. "I heard you did wonderfully.  So happy to see you all !  I have coffee, but our  johnnycakes didn't do very well.  They're half-burnt and half-raw."  It wasn't the finest feast but certainly better than nothing.  Edith happily drove them back to the forestry school.  All four of them were still weary and Frank was soon snoring as they rocked and bumped along the logging road.
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GM:   If there are any other avenues the agents wish to explore, please post with those actions.  Please respond by Saturday, 31 October, next post Sunday.  Since we have not heard from Cameron for a while his adventure will be wrapped up as well and the BPRD will have a new set of cases waiting for them in DC.
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"Well, I suppose that means that on avaerage they're fine," Irina says.

She gives Edith a big hug.

"I am so glad to see you. Next time I'll take Ben's advice. A Dark Young was nearly too much for me. Still, hopefully that's the last one that will be summoned here. I'll tell you all about it on the way back to DC."





Irina will say her farewells to the forestry students, and wish Crutis well in 'his' chosen endeavour. She gives John Stuart a careful look.

"Thank you for all your help," she tells him, and passes him a card. "You're clearly a very... gifted man. If you ever come across something strange again, and you need help, then just let us know. And if you ever need work, I'm sure we could find something for you."

Back at the BPRD, she'll give Ben the rundown on what happened, trying to skirt over quite how close she came to getting herself killed. But also she'll mention Stuart, and his strange Odin-like affinity.

Post 88: Loose Ends pt 3
---------March, 1925----
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---Irina, Pennsylvania----
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Edith seemed no worse for her part in the adventure, and the mice also seemed cheerful.  John Stuart agreed to host the two ladies for as long as they required to prepare for their return trip to Washington, which had the students cheering - mostly for Edith's culinary skills.  The students were very interested to hear about the creature and the people in the caves, but Frank had very little to say about it, apart from the one girl he got a good look at - Skuld - and the way they had magic lights in their hands.  Curtis had even less to say, despite having been in the thick of it, and would only mutter "there was a lot of fog."  Irina's well-wishes get her a slight nod; it's clear that Curtis keeps secrets.   John Stuart takes Irina's card and in his careful way, tucks it into his notebook with a paper clip.  "Thank you, Miss Pallenberg," he said, the cordial manners fully in place.  "I will pass along any messages that come from the lady we met in the forest."  He returned her look with a slight smile. "Thank you for your kind assistance.  I'm sure we would not have been able to deal with the matter on our own."
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A day or so later, the Model T is creaking and puffing along the rough roads, headed South.  "I heard that the creature was sent away from Tom," Edith said.  "He was watching for me. No one bothered us at our campsite.  You could tell when the thing was gone, though, it was like the whole mountain took a sigh of relief."  She had taken down Irina's account in shorthand.  (Irina +5% Cthulhu Mythos, Spell Dismiss Dark Young).
They drove well into the night, vowing to make it home in one day.  It was rough but they made the trip without incident.  Ben would have to wait for his report though, as only Professor Mills was awake enough to telephone the office that they'd returned safely.  Irina's report on the Dark Young got her a careful look from Ben, and a slight nod about the Odin affinity.  "Sounds like a god hiding," he said. "Close by people who worship the Old Norse ways, perfect place for him.  Wonder if there are any others hanging around there.  But I'm glad you're back; I expect Jack and Spider in by tomorrow.  And I had the delightful experience of telling an Admiral to go to hell, implying I could send him there if I wished.  Don't go into the back labs; there's a Deep One head in some kind of taxidermy going on there."

-----------------------
----Cameron and Co., returning from California---
----------------------
The big Ford rumbled into the garage at the Grey Building, the guard promptly disapparating at the noise, and the assembled agents disembarked.  Fritz's sunburn was peeling but he was grinning at Agent Black, who handed down her valise to him.  Angus climbed out of the driver's seat and helped Thorne offload the weaponry.  One spear gun had survived the trip and the extremely smelly package tied to the roof was presented as a trophy; the severed head of a California-area Deep One, a humanoid skull with much like a shark's jaw.   "There was no way we were bringing the whole thing back." Thorne said.  One arm was in a sling and he had a black eye mostly hidden behind sunglasses.  "That was from the speakeasy we found after the fighting was over.  Turned out, the fighting wasn't over."
"Unsere kleine goldene can copy it though.  I won bet." Fritz said, very cheerful, helping Agent Black out of the truck.
"Let me get to my desk to find some ointment for that burn, Schatzi," she said.  From Cameron's report, there was a group of Deep Ones in the bay area, living in underwater caves along a cave shelf.   The monsters were making excursions onshore to capture humans for sport and for breeding, as well as attacking boats that came too close to their caves.  The unfortunate women captured were used for breeding; the men for gladiatorial combat.  Then Fritz showed up and the Deep Ones didn't do quite so well against someone with a passion for slaughter. The Djinn had been distraught at the sight of so much water and Cameron had had his hands full dealing with her and the local authorities.  Miss Black had learned to drive with Angus patiently teaching her, while Cameron had watched Fritz and Thorne plan on how to destroy a large section of underwater reef with explosive charges.  Thorne had also invested in some real estate in San Francisco.
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The agents were reassembled for a training session with the famous Harry Houdini, whom the Raiders knew as the intense, serious and mannerly Ehrich Weiss.  He spent two weeks training the agents on breath control, lock picking, escaping handcuffs, rope ties and straitjackets.  Unsurprisingly, Fritz excelled at picking locks.  Cameron had the best breath control.  Spider's knowledge of ropes enabled him to get out of them quickly.  But it was Angus who had the biggest effect on Houdini - by telling the man he had to get his affairs in order - a fighting man was coming for him.
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GM:  New Cases coming soon for the Agents in May 1925; any loose ends you wish to deal with, please respond by Saturday, 7 November.
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Jack suggests that he and Spider go somewhere quiet – maybe the police station? — and use the phone to call Amy, using the number Joy gave them. When she’s on the phone, he will gently explain who he is, including his Maryland roots, and again tell her that they want to stop this from happening again. Not wanting to re-traumatize her, he will say he already has the gist of what happened, but just wants to know if there are any little details that they might not have heard yet. Smells, sounds, unusual fur, metal or fabric, how the creature walked or sounded or anything at all that she could describe, as well as any unusual goings-on either beforehand or afterwards. He will thank her and wish her well, and tell her that life throws us unusual obstacles but we can always find our way past them.