The Expedition Stage 1: Getting There
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--------------Nolan--------------
Nolan delivered the letters to Ben, but it was very tempting to open the one that Luke Macey had written.  He looked up Luke Macey in the agency personnel files, finding a thin folder with some billing notices for consulting work last year.  James Macey was a far thicker file; there was even a picture, and it looked as if James was indeed related to Luke; they had the same nose and the same grin, dark hair and dark eyes.  James was listed as a researcher, with some contact information that put him in the Boston area.  He had worked for the previous agency in the Grey Building and had placed a few artefacts into the warehouse; a statue of Juno, some Tesla invention only listed by a number (#606), and a 'unknown bakelite and glass artefact, possibly arcane'.   There was no Diana Maxwell in the files, but the one on Algernon Maxwell, PhD, was quite impressive;  Archaeology Professor at Miskatonic University, officially listed as 'missing' in 1922.  Maxwell had been everywhere, on digs all around the world, and his graduate students included most of the staff at the BPRD !  Jack, Spider, and Ben had all been his students.  Maxwell had been consulted on some of the artefacts by the previous administration - something Mills would know all about.

Nolan searches the library at work and the Library of Congress for Antarctic expeditions, and finds the most terrible stories of hardship and death - it is certain that this expedition will be difficult.   Robert Falcon Scott and Ernest Henry Shackleton had tried and failed.   He does note that several explorers of the last continent had been contacted and had provided consultation for the BPRD on the expedition.  He also studies the New England Legends and Lore, finds that it gives him horrible nightmares, but also picks up 2% Mythos knowledge.  The stories are compelling and the historical referencing is complete, so there's no way to dismiss it as foolishness.  What is also compelling is the dedication of the book; 'To my grandfather.  Tempus obliviscitur."  The quick translation is 'time forgets'.   There is much to think about, such that when he's walking to his lonely flat, he is surprised to hear a car horn sound.  It is a new red and black Cadillac Phaeton, being driven by Fritz Trachenberg.  "Do you have a minute to talk ?"  the German asked, pulling the car to a stop.
"We're just asking," said a voice behind him; it was Thomas Thorne.  "We might have something in common.   The old man talked to us, too.  And I have a plan."  The Southerner smiled, and Nolan had a sudden feeling that this was not a man you play poker with and win.
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-------------Spider---------------------------------
Spider puts the agents and his boss through an aggressive training course.  His star student is Fritzi, who apparently knows climbing from war time.  His least promising students are Thorne and Ben; Ben being hampered by having only one hand, and Thorne for being out of shape.  As October draws to a close, the agents have the dogs in local kennels, the ice breaker boat in the harbor being loaded under the watchful eye of H.P. Doan, and all seems to going as well as can be expected.  Fritzi proudly reveals custom made belts of ammo for the two Thompson submachine guns, and a variety of special ammo clips for each of the Agents' favourite weapons.  "Highly experimental, and still deadly.  Each clip is colour coded and has raised dots on the end of the case.  The green is poison.  The red is acid.  The yellow is incendiary.  The white is silver, oil of Saints and white oak infused.  Unmarked clips are plain military load."

Spider visits his offspring and their mother, Cressida, who still seems surprised and amused that he is working.  "You and Tris, rushing around saving the world," she said, shaking her head as young Davey hugged Spider's knees and Cici considered him with an appraising eye.    She laughed when he admitted to being stubborn.  "I know you'll come back, if you can.  You'll have to harden your heart when you leave, the howling will be dreadful.  I'll be back in Boston soon, to see the leaves turn and try to get these two into some sort of education."  The twins did some sort of unseen communication, and both fixed Spider, then their mother, with sharp looks.  "No biting the teacher, either," Cressida told them.   It was hard to say farewell.

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----------------Jack--------------------------------------------------
Jack confronts Ben in his office, and Ben gives him his full attention, something that his boss has been unable to do much of lately.  "I'll send those two to get the car and search the hotel room.  They won't need keys."  He got up, stuck his head out the door and yelled for Thorne and Fritz.  Once 'those two' were despatched, Ben shut the door and thought for a short moment, looking Jack in the eye.  "I've had some word from a friend about the paint.  An ally - one who cannot be revealed.  We'll have to deal with whomever has been sending the Countess after us - and guess what.  You're in charge of that now - an official promotion,  Assistant Director. That puts you as second in command for the expedition as well.  As for keeping the Countess locked up, I'd rather keep her close under our watch than farther away.   Ask Agent Black about spells to contain or control another person's access to mana."

Jack visits Irina, who is still out, though the new attending nurse speaks Russian and tells him something hopeful.  "She is speaking, but it's only words here and there.  She said one, Miskat, miskatnik something.  She also said, 'I have to go to the library, and later on, 'it is far'."

Jack also researchs the wand, badgering Trevor Bruttenholm into helping him.   "The owl is the symbol of Athena.  Goddess of war and wisdom, with parallels to Neith, Ishtar, Anat and Inanna.  She is usually depicted in armour, with a spear and helmet.  In the Odyssey she transforms into a sea eagle, and she has been mentioned in several texts as being able to transform into an owl.  I'd say you have her wand."    Trevor seemed almost jealous of that.  "I'll look up what offerings she has accepted, but I think offering an owl statue or olives might be an acceptable gesture.  Her tree is the Olive tree.  Offering to Gods is a dangerous game, Jack.  Be cautious."

Jack visits Reverend Atwell, who is quietly sitting on one of the pews and contemplating the altar, an aged Bible clasped in his arthritic hands.   The church was empty, the last service having been about twenty minutes ago.  "Oh," the old man said, a rare smile creasing his face.   Against all probability, the old man seemed happy to see him.  "Mr...Sterling.  The G-man who needed Holy Water.  What can I help you with today ?"  The bulky, hovering form of Preacher Barry was not in evidence.   At Jack's thanks and information, Atwell's smile fades to the serious look more common to his wrinkled face.  "Of course.  You're very welcome, young man.  I will pray for them - and for you and your friend."  Atwell pauses, as Jack holds back the rest of his tale.   "Something's bothering you," the old man said.  "If you want to tell me, I will do what I can to help.  For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation.  If you are worried about who might hear, I sent Barry to get the dry cleaning."  He nodded to the altar.  "I had him refill the candle box before he left, had a feeling it would be needed."
But every candle Jack lit, the flame was a vivid purple.
This produced a raised eyebrow on Atwell, but nothing more.  "There is much more to you than meets the eye," Atwell said, eventually.  "I will pray for you.  And, perhaps, if I may ask, if there is a matter that the Church finds to be - well, more of your sort of job than ours - may I call you ?"
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----------Everyone--------

Ben holds another meeting two days before departure, after painstakingly hand drawing a map on a chalk board.   It was a lonely dark squiggle on a vast sheet of ice, heading towards mountains encased in ice.  "This is the best intelligence we have for the route to the remains of a lost civilisation based at the South Pole.  We can expect to encounter Mythos creatures en route and especially in the city.  Based on the information in the Necronomicon, the oldest edition, the city was built by entities called "Elder Things".  They are technologically superior to us.  There is a high chance we will encounter their creations, which include Shoggoths, giant amoeboid creatures that have the ability to cast spells as well as send out pseudopods to attack.  There is conflicting opinion on whether these Shoggoths are intelligent, but we personally know of an independent Shoggoth of considerable shrewdness.  We will make a semi-permanent camp on the ice twice; Camp One and Camp Two.   These will be tents that we will leave behind.  We have a drop of supplies near each camp so we can resupply.  We will also have two portable radios, though we may have very poor transmission conditions.  Our ship will stay in place waiting for our return for forty days, then I have requested a flyover from the DoD to look for us.  I asked Gruber but he refused, understandably.   It will take six days to travel to each camp; long, rough days, and then we will rest for a day or two at Camp One and Two before heading out again.  We should reach the target three days after travelling out from Camp Two, it may mean bad times out on the ice as we try to find a way into it.   Since we are travelling during the summer, we'll have daylight all day long.   It will still be cold; subzero temperatures.  We will have to contend with frostbite and exhaustion.  Each time we make camp, we need a Barrier spell activated.  The objective remains to find and collect any alien technology so that we can then use it to stop the apocalyptic event foretold for 1937, 15 March.  This expedition is extremely dangerous and if you have any reservations about proceeding, let me know now.  The chain of command on this expedition is me, the leader; then Jack, as my assistant, then Spider.  Chain of command in this office is Edith, then Agent Black, then Mills."

Ben paused then.  "Questions, clarifications ?  The maps are copied and we will each have one.  Navigation will be challenging but we have some clear landmarks noted on the map."

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GM: Actions, please, up to and including departure on the expedition, please respond by Saturday 15 January, next post Sunday.

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Jack is surprised at his promotion.
     “Thank you, Ben — Dr. Weintraub. I appreciate your confidence in me. I will do my best.
    "Do you mean we should keep the Countess here in the building? Or did you mean somewhere else nearby? And she seems quite resistant to interrogation. Maybe Fritz and Thorne will turn up some clues to her boss that I can pursue.” He will certainly check with Miss Black about how they might keep the Countess from using magic, whether she is kept locked up or allowed to go free.
     At the church, Jack finds comfort in Atwell’s words. When the candles burn purple, he sighs and decides to lower his guard with the man.
     “We fight evil,” he states simply. “It comes in a variety of forms, most of which modern people do not believe exist. That is for the best. Some are monstrous creatures from far, far away — across space and other dimensions. Some have been on Earth longer than we have. We are about to travel to Antarctica, to search their ruins for ancient tools to stop a possible apocalypse that is coming in a few years.” He smiles half-heartedly. “So we could use any assistance we can get.”
     When Atwell asks for help, Jack says, “I and several others are leaving the country soon. But we have skilled colleagues who will be holding down the fort.” He writes down Edith’s name and number for him. “ I’ll come see you when I get back, also.”
     After speaking with Trevor, Jack goes shopping. He makes the rounds of antique shops and import dealers, looking for a well-made, portable statue of Athena in bronze or the like, a small brazier, as well as bunch of wooden figurines of owls and cows (which he has read Athena liked as sacrifice). If he can find some that are especially fine workmanship, and/or made of olive wood, so much the better.
     Jack also stops by the bank. Not knowing what types of people they may have to deal with en route, he packs a stash of 25 gold double eagle ($20) coins in his luggage.

---Jack, prior to departure-----
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Ben almost laughed then when Jack called him Doctor Weintraub.  "It's still Ben, Jack.  And the Countess won't be able to pass the wards.  If this new hospital can keep her locked up, I think we ought to let them.   You might also find that I have done you no favours by promoting you."

Jack decided to speak to Atwell, who nods slightly as he listens to the Agent's story.  "I never thought I would be surprised again, but I am today," the old man says quietly.  "I will bless you and pray for your success.  Here.  Take this with you."  He slowly draws a heavy silver cross from his belt; the patina on it suggests it is very old.  There is a round dent on the bottom part.  "This saved my life once; I ask that you bring it back when your tasks are done and give it to the next person who will stand against the evils of...this world, and the next."  He carefully takes the note with the telephone number and puts it in his Bible.

Jack also heads down to the market area, hunting for antiques and suchlike.  He finds some very questionable items, noting that some dealers would cheerfully lie and sell him a statue of Diana or Venus and claim it to be Athena.  The seventh shop he goes into, a small and shabby one with a scruffy man in coveralls painting a mirror frame, there is a statue of Pallas Athena in full regalia, in bronze, about a foot tall, with an owl on her shoulder and the gorgon-headed shield enameled in red and black.  It costs more than he was expecting, even though the dealer knocked fifty dollars off the price.  He is given an olive wood bowl for nothing.  Another dealer has some porcelain owls and cow figurines of good quality.   His trip to the bank is easy.
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What was found in the search of the Countess' hotel room was: a suitcase, with a silk dress, underclothes and a wrap, with a pair of new high-heeled leather shoes.  A smaller case held makeup, a fan, and a receipt for the Occidental Grill, on Pennsylvania Avenue, and a false bottom hiding a booklet with some carefully written Russian with diagrams that looked like pentagrams.  Another case was hidden in a vent duct, and had three passports, all with different names, for the Countess; one was Canadian, one was Serbian, and one was Russian; a wad of cash in US dollars, four gold coins of Russian minting, and a small address book written in some kind of code.  The car had nothing in it of note.   The booklet of spells was given to Agent Black to decipher and the coded address book, Edith said she had someone in mind to deal with it.  As far as they could tell the new Hospital would be able to hold the Countess securely for at least a while - though who knew if anyone might come looking for her.
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And in two days, the Agents were boarding Doan's ship, Carstairs 2, and heading south.  The dogs were in kennels lashed to the deck, with one odd addition; a large crate that Thorne had loaded last.  Thorne opened the canvas, to reveal Bruno the Hellhound, who yawned open a foot-wide toothy jaw, blinked its glowing red eyes, and shook out its bristly hide with a rasping sound on the metal bars.  "What ?  He's trained.  He can pull a 500 pound sled by himself."  Thorne said. "And he didn't eat any of the dachshunds."

Ben looked on this without expression, then shook his head slightly.  "Some time you'll have to tell me how you got him out of the building."
"That's easy.  Bacon." said Thorne.  "He's warm, too."  He patted Bruno's muzzle and had a swipe of a huge tongue lather up his hand.  "Good boy, Bruno."  Their gear was quickly and expertly being stowed by Fritz and Doan.  The ship set out for points South in good order, leaving behind a grey fall morning, and going into choppy waters.   For several days, the Agents simply rest, knowing that the future will have little opportunity for such.  As they head South, the air gets colder and the waters more treacherous, but their Captain is equal to the task.

The Agents go over the harnessing for the dogs and the sleds, and their commands.  Line out: lead dog, pull the harness taut.  Hike: start moving forward.  On by: move past a distraction.  Gee: turn right.  Haw: turn left.  Easy: slow down.  Whoa: stop !  Mush: Let's go !   The sleds are long and narrow across, with cargo beds, the foot boards where the musher or driver stands in back. A very basic brake is at the back of the sled, a metal claw to be kicked into the snow.  The runners also have a traction system of chains to slow the sleds down on downhills.  The rigging is the lines, the gangline, tuglines and necklines that attach the dogs to the sleds.  Fritz has also made small booties for the dogs, out of moosehide and wool, to keep them from developing frostbite.  These are attached by some kind of strapping at the ankle.  There are three big sleds and 38 dogs, and one smaller sled, which will be pulled by Bruno alone, driven by Thorne.  The first sled is Ben's sled, with Spider; their lead dog is Kaskae.  The second sled is Jack and Nolan, their lead dog is Megussuk.  The third sled is Fritz, carrying most of their weapons, lead by Eska, and fourth is the small sled with Bruno, driven by Thorne.  Bruno's sled has camping gear.  Eight dogs will be on the sled with one leader, the rest will travel with the sleds loose.

The map puts them as landing on the Ross Ice Shelf, heading into the Transantarctic Mountains towards the South Pole.   The Carstairs 2 rams deep into the ice, mooring safely.  The Agents assemble their gear, putting on the furs and mukluks, as well as shaded goggles to prevent snow blindness, and begin offloading their equipment in truly frigid cold, a bitter wind driving off the snow already.   "I'll wait an extra week for you," Doan shouts over the howling wind.  "But I'll call in for a flyover on day forty !"

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GM:  You are now in Antarctica !  Actions, etc, for the first day of a very cold and stressful trip, using dogsleds to go into the great unknown.  Please respond by 22 January, Saturday, next post is Sunday.  As is fitting, it is snowing right now as I type.
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Spider has made sure that Mathilda is oiled and wrapped well.  He also keeps flares ready to shoot at things that threaten them.  He offers to take the first shift driving so Ben can keep fresh.

Nolan noted the chain of command with more than a little relief. So far, his time as an agent had been somewhat chaotic and, although it allowed him the freedom to investigate as he saw fit, he felt a little more comfortable with a more military feel to an undertaking of this scale.

He regarded the hellhound as they traversed the choppy seas and endeavored to refuse his temptations to imagine the supernatural forces that awaited them. His military tenure had trained him to concentrate on the mission, not engage in flights of fancy. His C.O. called them "unproductive thought patterns". It took great discipline to fend those thoughts off in the dark hours of the trip. In the end, he was mostly successful, his sleep being the major casualty.

As he debarked in Antarctica, he looked back at the ship. It had the feel of a final farewell which he tried unsuccessfully to shake off. This is it, he thought. Now what are those commands? 'Easy', 'Haw', 'Whoa' and, oh yes, 'Gee'. He took a deep breath and headed toward the sled. Since Spider took the first shift driving, he offered to take second. That would give him a bit to observe the process, at least.

As he boarded the sled, he refused to acknowledge the lurking sense of dread that hovered over him. Nor would he give any credence to the chilling feeling that, despite the surrounding desolate landscape, they were being watched. Unproductive thought patterns, he thought with a sardonic smile.
This message was last updated by the player at 17:57, Sat 22 Jan 2022.

OC: Sorry so late!
IC: during the weeks of the voyage, Jack practices praying before the statue of Athena, burning Olivewood sticks in a brazier and trying to go into a meditative trance and make some sort of contact. “Great Athena, wisest of the gods, patroness of human crafts and battle skill, the Fates have brough your wand into my care. I go to fight enemies of all humankind, and to find tools of the enemy to use against them. I humbly ask your guidance, that this powerful tool will not destroy me when I use it for these ends.” He will keep this up every day.
Other than that, he will familiarize himself with the harnesses, sleds, and climbing gear, as well as the radio, lifeboats, and other safety equipment on board the ship.
Once they’re on the ice, he tries to help everyone get ready as efficiently as possible to conserve energy. He notices Nolan‘s apprehension and says “Nolan, you’re with me, not Spider. I’ll take the first try at driving the sled. Here goes nothing!“

Getting There pt 3

The ship was soon lost to view as the wind whipped up snow from the ground, and the dogs hauled the sleds with professional vigor.  Even the Hellhound galloped along, clearly happy to be running around, though his path was more erratic than the huskies.   A lone albatross could been seen far off, back where they had come from.

Spider started off the mushing as Ben braced himself on the sled support and scanned the horizon with binoculars.  Even with Matilda a reassuring weight on his back, Spider still felt uneasy, as if they were headed into trouble.  The light was strange, too, a greyish bright day with no clouds, nothing but snow in sight.  Readings on the compass were difficult, so much so that the compass was put away.  They had to rely on the maps and the landmarks.  The first half of the first day was uneventful; it was when they were headed into the second half that trouble stirred.

Nolan looked back to see Trachenberg checking his watch and making a notation on his wrist notebook.  Back of the line, Bruno was happily running along, slaloming in the back of the line.  Thorne was crouched behind his sled, since the Hellhound's big clawed feet were throwing up snow and ice.  It was getting close to the first rest break when suddenly, their lead dog, Megussuk, started barking; this was seconded by almost hysterical barking by Eska, and the teams began to slow and become less organised.  Bruno added a deep-throated howl that rumbled in their bones, and Ben signalled a stop.  Jack kicked out the anchor and the dogs restlessly clustered together.  Fritz anchored their sled and went to see Thorne, who was trying to undo Bruno's harness.  "They got wind of something they don't like," Thorne bellowed over the wind.  "I'll let Bruno go find it first."  Soon the big ugly beast was galumphing over the ice hills.
"Food and water for the dogs," Fritz Trachenberg said next, pulling out an insulated bucket of water, still steaming warm, for the dogs to drink from, and bricks of dog pemmican.  The dogs seemed more nervous than hungry.   The plan had been to get at least another few miles underway before making camp.

Bruno's baying caused another ripple of worry in the huskies.  Fritz and Spider were up the hill first, looking out on a wide ice field, where some lumps indicated some kind of gear left behind, probably by one of the other polar expeditions.  "No, we're not hanging around here," Ben said firmly.  "Jack, Nolan, take the lead.  I'll drive in second position.  Thorne, get that damn hound back."
Thorne whistled shrilly, but the hellhound wouldn't come back.  "Damnation," the Southerner grunted, and set off up the hill after Bruno.  Bruno was digging and baying at an elongated ovoid shape buried in the snow, something about 15 feet long.  "Leave it, Bruno !"
"Get him away from that !"  Ben had also come up the hill.

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GM: Actions, etc, for the next few minutes of game time, please respond by Saturday, 29 January, next post Sunday.
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When the first half of the day proved to be uneventful, Nolan almost allowed himself to relax. Almost. It was daylight itself that refused to let him relax. There was a wrongness to it. Something undefinable yet omnipresent.

As he watched the slaloming hellhound trail the sled, half expecting it to turn on them at any moment, Megussuk burst into a fit of hysterical barking, violently ripping Nolan from his thoughts. Presently, the remaining dogs lent their barks to the chorus as the sled slowed to a stop. As Thorne released Bruno to bound over the ice, Nolan was suddenly very happy to have the beast around. Better to fight a monster with a monster, he reasoned.

Once Bruno started his baying, the hair stood up on the back of his neck and he leapt from the sled in anticipation of following Fritz and Spider up the hill. He was stayed by Ben's order and returned to take the lead with Jack. Soon Ben crested the hill and Nolan froze as his words tumbled down the hill to reach him.

Get him away from what? With that thought ringing in his head, he pulled up the sled's anchor and prepared to leave in a hurry.

When the others, even Ben, start heading up the hill, Jack steadfastly stays with his sled. He pulls a flare gun loose from inside his parka for easy use. He is determined to protect their gear and means of transportation.
(OC: Keeper, please also see my horribly late post from last week regarding Jack’s shipboard activities if you missed it. I hope everyone is staying warm and safe despite the weather!)

The Expedition Stage 1: Getting There pt 3

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A sudden high wind rose up, driving past the high basalt peaks of the mountains at the Pole, sending ice crystals like small daggers at them.  Bruno resisted Thorne's efforts to leave the strange shape buried in the snow and ice.   The savage wind worsened, shrieking in their ears, almost carrying the sound of wild piping on a range that went from very low to very high.  Subconsciously the effect was highly unsettling, frazzling everyone's nerves further.  Nolan and Jack stayed at their sled.

Trachenberg trudged up the hill, to stand next to Ben and call the Hellhound, then went onward to try to haul the big beast away from whatever it was digging up.  Bruno would not be moved, and was now uncovering something in the ice, something that stunk worse than decomposed skunk, something that looked like a claw-ended tentacle in a grotesquely greenish hue.  The rest of the dogs were now stirring up in a frenzy, straining at their harnesses, whining and yelping.  Some seemed to want to join Bruno, the rest seemed to want to run away.  In a moment the harness lines were tangled and it looked like it would be some work to undo the mess.

Ben turned and hurried back to the lead sled, rummaging in the cargo area for a fur-wrapped long item stowed there; Fritz also hurried back to his own sled and hauled out a long-handled axe and a canvas satchel.  Thorne continued to try to get Bruno away from whatever the hellhound was digging up, unsuccessfully.   "Get him out of there," Ben snapped at Fritz, who looked startled at the hostile tone, but sped up to get to the site.
"No more, Trip, back off, schnell," Fritz shouted down at Thorne.  He slid down the hill and tossed the satchel to Thorne, who caught it, then the German raised the axe high and smashed into the centre mass of the lump in the snow, furiously breaking a hole in the icy shell of something that smelled truly awful.  "Grenade !"  Thorne dug in the satchel, pulling out a canister of something and tossed it to Fritz, who pulled the pin, shoved it in the hole, and ran for it.  Bruno paused in his attempts at excavation as his two humans ran away, and proved he wasn't entirely stupid by following them.   The brilliant white flare of phosphorous seared the sky, adding a surreal shadow cast by something moving down there, writhing within the confines of the ice.
The sight was the stuff of nightmares.

"Untangle the dogs and we are leaving !" Ben snarled at the two of them, and stalked back to his sled, to stow whatever he had brought.  The men worked as fast as they could, and the dogs seemed to respond to being handled and brought back into their places.  Jack and Nolan took the lead and headed out.   Bruno was put back in harness, licking the gooey green ichor on his chops.
The sleds moved over the ice and snow, closer to the whistling wind coming from the dark mountains.    Bruno galloped along behind the rest, hauling Thorne and a small sled with no discernable effort.  It still seemed like a day had passed before Ben at last called for a halt, to make camp.

"So what the hell was that ?"  Thorne asked Ben flat out, as Fritz went to Eska and petted her as she yowled and chirped at him.    The sleds were secured and the dogs seemed calmer.
"I think it was an Elder Thing," Ben said flatly.  "And I don't think it was dead.  They are said to travel through the interstellar void, and deep into oceans, so it takes a good deal to kill one."
"So a phosphorous grenade might not be enough."
"Keep that damned hellhound on a tight leash, Thorne," Ben said angrily. "We can't afford to lose anyone.  We have to be careful !"
"Okay, okay, boss, we'll take care of it," Thorne said smoothly, raising his mittened hands placatingly and backing away.   Jack and Spider started setting up the tent and the wind breaks, as Trachenberg tended to the dogs; Bruno sulked as Thorne leashed him, but allowed himself to be led away.  The tents were rigged so that the dogs could shelter inside one layer of tenting, while the humans had a smaller section, with a fire pit.  But for the bitter cold and the howling wind whispering horrible secrets, the expedition seemed like a normal enough camp site.  Thorne had bought bamboo matting, rolled up and stowed in Bruno's sled, that formed a good insulation against the ice.  The dogs seemed more relaxed around the hellhound now, and soon settled down, most of them curling up close to the beast - who was admittedly warm.   Thorne yawned and settled down as Spider wrestled with the camp stove; Jack was sent out to perform the wards against the Mythos.

So it was Jack, alone, who saw the snow white albatross again, angling through the harsh winds easily.   It was a big bird, with a twelve-foot wingspan.  It banked and looped a long circle around him as he cast the Barrier Spell, the wand in his hand warm and glittering; then he lost sight of it, or perhaps he had imagined it after all.   He got back into the tent as Spider was setting up dinner, a hash of beans, rice and sausages.   Thorne was already snoring.   Ben was checking the map, and going over notes taken by Fritz as they travelled.   Fritz unpacked the sextant and took sighting on the sun, wrote the numbers down, then went to look up information in a book he had brought.   Everyone was tired; the cold and the travel had taken its toll on them.   Nolan caught Ben's whisper to Trachenberg, "How far off are we ?"
"Five miles, correct back to South tomorrow," the German replied softly.  'I will check again in the morning."
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GM:  Please respond with actions, etc, for the 'night' (since it won't get dark), by Saturday, 5 February, next post Sunday.
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Jack is careful to place the wards so there are no gaps, and as close to the campsite as practicable (so as to avoid including any unwanted entities below the visible ice!).
     He knows from his preparatory research that albatrosses are native to the area. Even so, he finds the lone visitor unsettling, and utters a prayer while still holding the wand:
     “Far-seeing Athena, I humbly beg your continued protection for this quest, as you protected and guided the heroes of old. If this bird is a spy or messenger for the evil forces that oppose us, I implore you to use your unrivaled powers to cloud its senses or otherwise misdirect it, as you in your wisdom see fit.”
     Back inside the tent, he gratefully eats Spider’s concoction. He will also keep an eye on Ben, having taken note of the Director’s uncharacteristic snappishness throughout the day.  Then he will set up his tiny shrine to Athena between his bedroll and the wall, and meditate on the myths and tales of the goddess as he falls asleep.
     When they wake and are preparing to move on, he will find a moment to speak to Ben alone. “Ben, is everything alright? I know these conditions are difficult, to say the least, but you seemed to be quite on edge yesterday, even angry. Your level-headed calm has always inspired loyalty and confidence among the team. We need that type of leadership right now, more than ever. “

The Expedition Stage 1: Getting There pt 4

Camp settled down, the strange daylight still shining overhead.   The tent canvas was thick enough that the light didn't trouble them from sleeping.  Thus far they were untroubled by anything worse than the weather, though Jack had picked up on Ben's bad mood.

It took a while to get Ben alone; once the pair of Thorne and Fritz had gone out to see to the dogs and Spider and Nolan were setting up breakfast and breaking down the tents for transport, there was finally a short time when Ben was standing alone, looking at the map and scowling.
"No, everything is not all right," Ben replied, the New England twang especially heavy.   He did not look happy.  "We nearly dug up an Elder Thing yesterday.  There's only six of us."  For a few seconds, Ben was clearly weighing telling Jack more.  "And, if I was informed correctly, I'm not coming back from this expedition.   If I need to be removed from command, it will be your call.  I could not stay behind in DC, but my sanity is shattering and you need a mage.  Irina would have been my first choice.  Now - "  he paused, as Fritz went past them to stand on a flat area and set up the sextant again, "I would give my life to save anyone here. So - whatever happens, you have to get everyone home."  Ben started to step away, just as Thorne snapped a picture with his camera, getting Jack, Ben and Fritz in the shot.
"I found a feather," Fritz said, carrying the sextant in its case.  He held up a white and grey feather over a foot long and used it to point in a direction. "It was pointed South.  So, we head this way, we will be at the foot of the mountains in about two days.   I will take another reading at noon."
"Good.  Thank you," Ben said, sounding more like his normal self.
It did not take long for the camp to be packed away into the sleds.  The lethal wind had dropped down to a more moderate wind, and the dogs seemed to be eager to head out.  Fritz was tasked with taking the lead, with Ben and Spider the second sled, Jack and Nolan the third and Thorne with Bruno bringing up the rear.  Eska led at a fast pace, and the distant mountains looked much closer than yesterday.  Faint plumes of ice crystals were whipping around their bare peaks, trailing down like icy fingers.   There was a strangeness to the mountains, sculpted by nightmares, unnatural in their appearance.

Jack kept a weather eye on Ben, who seemed content to let Spider drive the dog team while he checked the horizon with binoculars or rested.   The morning was uneventful and they seemed to be making good progress.  It was later in the day, about five in the evening, when Ben raised his arm to signal a stop.   "Something down there, that plateau in front of the mountains," he said, handing off the binoculars.
"Looks like an abandoned campsite," Thorne said, after scanning it with his spyglass.  "I can see collapsed tents."

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GM: Actions, etc, for the next hour or so of game time, please respond by Saturday, 12 February, next post Sunday
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Spider said, "The odds of whatever caused the campsite to be abandoned still being there seems slim.  How about one or two of us check it out?  Maybe we learn something about the dangers here, or find some useful supplies."  He unslung the big rifle.  "I'm game."

“You can count on me, Ben — on all of us. This is a good crew. Don’t worry about leaning on us now and then. We all want you going back with us. The future is not written in stone — after all, that’s why we’re here.”
     Jack does an almost comical double-take when Fritz shows them the feather and says it was pointing the direction they need to head. “I suppose there are no owls in Antarctica,” he says with a hopeful smile. “Keep an eye ou for a huge white albatross,” he tells everyone. “We’ve been guided by animals working for higher powers before, and I have a hunch this one is similar.”
     When the uninhabited camp is spotted, Jack immediately asks, “Do we know of any previous expeditions in this area?” and tries to remember if any such were mentioned in his preparatory research. “Let’s keep the dogs back from it for now, in case there’s some alien scent. We don’t want them going crazy and getting tangled. Although taking the hellhound might be a good idea. I’ll come with you, Spider.” He once again makes sure the wand, flare gun, and .45 are all handy.

The Expedition Stage 1: Getting There pt 5

------Overlooking the camp site-----Everyone------
"There were a few expeditions that went over the Ross Ice shelf just as we did, including the Ross Sea Party in 1916," Ben said.  "This looks like it's been abandoned a while, for years.  But there might be something down there worth salvaging, and if there was an attack, we need all the information we can get.  Jack, Spider, be careful."  He looked over at Thorne and Trachenberg, who were playing rock-paper-scissors to see who went along.  Thorne smugly won, and went to Bruno's sled, pulling out the wrapped packages that were tent materials, lightening the load so that all three could ride the small sled.

---Heading down to look at the camp site----Jack, Spider, and Thorne----
Please refer to the dreadful map I have attempted to render--

"No reason to walk," Thorne said.   "Fritzi, keep a scope on us.  Nolan, keep an eye out elsewhere, and Boss, see you later."  He slung one of the Thompsons over his shoulder, hanging the belt with professional ease.  Bruno snorted, got tossed a lump of charcoal from Thorne's pocket, and was quickly galloping over the ice.  All three men ducked down as the big monster's paws kicked up a lot of snow and ice.  The sun was lowering in the sky, the mountains cast long ugly shadows across the ice, but it would not be setting today, or for many months to come.  In about an hour, the sled was on the ice plateau the camp was set up on.  It looked like the winds had done a good deal of damage, though some of the tents looked worse than others.  Some kind of massive icy lump was at the North end of the camp; the tents were arrayed in two rows of four tents, east to west, with a larger tent set off farther east.  Most of the tents were completely collapsed and covered with rime and snow.  Bruno sniffed suspiciously, but didn't complain when Thorne leashed him and told him to "heel".   The wind from the mountains whistled in that horrible keening that grated on the nerves.  Other than ripped canvas stirred by the wind, nothing was moving but the Agents.

"What a mess." Thorne said, grimacing.  The elements had crushed, covered and flattened the tents such that looking through them would be time-consuming and difficult.  "Big one first ?"  He walked that way, Bruno beside him, easily outweighing Thorne but doing a fair imitation of a trained dog.  The canvas of the big tent was fairly intact, though the supports had collapsed under the weight of snow.  Bruno sniffed and growled, a deep-throated rumble, and dug at the snow by one side of the tent.  Soon there was a hole big enough for them to squeeze into, the original tent probably being 20 feet long and 10 feet wide.  A folding table, half-collapsed, was in the centre of the room, with a tipped-over smaller table that had held metal trays of knives and what looked like dissection equipment; most disturbing, though, was that the packed snow underfoot was a dirty red colour, like dried blood, and there was a LOT of it.  Bruno sniffed and bumped a tray with his nose; under the tray and pressed into the snow was an odd three-pronged shape, perhaps the footprint of something unnatural.  The canvas tent walls also showed signs of massive blood splatter, and one of the walls had been sheared away from the tent at some point.

"Not liking this at all, no Sir," Thorne muttered, but got out his camera, used a scalpel as a reference for size, and snapped a picture of the footprint.  Bruno sat down and was rewarded with another lump of charcoal.   Spider looked for anything of use, but the elements had done their damage.  There were no notebooks or papers of any kind to be found that might indicate what was going on here.

The next most intact tent was the eighth tent.  The canvas was perforated in the sides, small holes that looked like bullet holes.  Again, blood stained the snow inside, but stuck in the ice was an opened box of rifle bullets, for a Lee-Enfield rifle; four were left.  The two cots were empty and broken by the weather and nothing else was there.

Bruno then took it into his head to drag Thorne along to the big pile of snow at the far end of the camp.  "No idea, but if there's something, he'll dig it out," Thorne said, hauled along by the massive beast.  "I got a feeling we don't want to hang around here for a long time though !"
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-------Staying up on the hill looking down at the campsite----Nolan, Fritz, and Ben------

In the absence of much else to do, Ben asked Fritz and Nolan to set up the radio set, to try to get word to Doan on board the ice breaker.  The dogs got a round of dog pemmican to keep them busy, and the two agents put together the antenna and cranked up the radio.  It took a lot of attempts, and some creative use of the wire, to finally get through clearly to the Carstairs 2.   Doan sounds happy to hear from them.  "All that I can see is ice and some penguins," their captain reports.
"We're looking at an old camp site now, but nothing eventful here so far," Ben reported.  "Wire back to home base that we're alive and well for now."   Then Ben straightened up, staring at the mountains.  There had been a flash of light, small and brief, from one of the basalt peaks.  "Be careful out there, Captain Doan.  Landing Party, over and out."
"Fritz !"  Ben pointed with the transmitter; the agent trained his sniper rifle on the mountain peaks.
"No movement," the German reported, after careful observation.
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GM:  Up to you what tents you want to look at; all of them will take about three hours to explore, but you will still have adequate daylight.  Up to the hillside party (Nolan) if you want to join them on the plateau or stay on the hill watching the mountains.  Please respond with actions, etc, for the next hour or so of game time, by Saturday, 19 February, next post Sunday.
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Looking carefully at the blood splattered on the walls of the big tent, Jack comments, “This much spray, whatever was being cut up was still alive. Vivisection. Does that footprint match the elder thing from earlier? Its blood wasn’t red. So maybe it was one of them that was doing the dissecting.” He shakes his head at the thought of whomever was cut up alive. “Poor bastards.”
     He will look for any maker’s marks on the broken furniture and metal trays, trying to at least determine country of origin. He agrees with Spider that they should go through the individual tents, at least until they find a bit more information about the presumably deceased expedition members. Or more about their fate.
     When Bruno heads for the large mound of ice, Jack gets a sick feeling. “That’s probably the crew,” he says to Spider and Thorne over the eerie wind. “And it probably won’t be pleasant!”

In reply to Jack (msg # 16):

Spider frowned briefly.  "We're here.  Might as well check it all out.  These bullets could come in handy.  Maybe we can find more stuff."  While Bruno dug, Spider began probing the nearest tents they had not examined.

OOC:  3, 4 and 5 most likely.

The Expedition Stage 1: Getting There pt 6

-------At the ruined camp; Jack, Spider, Thorne and Bruno----
-------------------
Jack's survey of the big tent seemed to indicate the worst.  He looks at the broken cots and sees that they were manufactured in Glasgow, Scotland.  The trays have no markings beyond some kind of hallmark, a crown with a letter 'A' beneath it.

The two agents go and have a look at tents 3, 4, and 5, while Bruno hauls Thorne to the ice mound and begins digging through hard ice, forcing the Southerner to let go of Bruno's leash and step back out of the path of flying ice shards.

Tent 3:  The tent has been ransacked and the door flap was torn.  The cots are flipped but the bedding is gone, and some clothes are packed into the ice; Spider sees the imprint as a match for the one in the large tent, a three-sectioned footprint.  No heavy clothes are there, just a few shirts and a lone sock.  One shirt has a label from London, England.  (Spot hidden rolls, please)

Tent 4: Supplies and food.  Wood packing cases have been torn asunder, sacks of flour and sugar are ripped.  Heavy tin canisters of lard and cooking oil have been twisted and smashed, and some tinned meat and pemmican containers have been smashed.  There are empty match boxes and no spices, salt or pepper.  None of it is recoverable.

Tent 5: this tent was crushed by the most snow of all the tents, and there were cots in it, made ready with bedrolls and blankets, but there is nothing that indicates who was in here; it looks as if no one was in residence.

As Spider and Jack puzzled over their finds, Bruno stopped digging and sat back, howling mournfully.  Thorne looked surprised and went to gather up Bruno's leash, but stopped when he saw what the big beast had uncovered, he cursed loud and long, a string of expletives that sizzled the air blue.   They went to see what was there, and the sight was grisly; a large number of good sled dogs had been butchered.  From the amount of bloody ice, and the appearance of the carcasses, they had been tortured first, some skinned alive, some chopped apart.  Bruno howled again, and Thorne howled with him, the eerie cry of the Rebel.  The hellhound stopped making noise and stared at Thorne, who nodded at it.

--------Back on the hill looking at the ruined camp; Nolan, Ben and Fritz---
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Fritz switched from checking the mountains for movement to surveying the camp.  "They're moving around the tents, looking at a couple of them.  That damn hound is going after something....and it's found something.  Oh, not good.  Maybe a body."  The howling came up from the campsite on the wind.  Fritz switched his sighting back to the mountains.  "Shining.  Something on the peak to the left of the twisted one."

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GM: Please respond with actions, etc for the next hour of game time, by Saturday 26 February, next post Sunday.  Hope you are all well and that the winter is beginning to relent, we had snow yesterday, and robins today.
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OOC:  Roll for Spider, please. (OK, will do- M, got a 57%)

IC:

Spider made sure nothing was hidden among the clothes, then looked at Jack.  "I think this is enough.  Nothing recoverable, and few clues, other than these prints.  Let's get back to the others."
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:04, Fri 25 Feb 2022.

[Rolled a 59 from PBE online roller, you should have received by email.]
Jack grimly searches methodically until Spider says they should go. At that, he stands to stretch and looks up, trying to see if the albatross is in sight. When Bruno and Thorne howl, Jack walks to them. Seeing the tortured, mangled bodies of the dogs is bad — but Jack was expecting it to be men, so he guiltily feels a bit of relief.

Getting There pt 7:
---------------Jack and Spider--------
Between the two agents, something is found.  A small notebook cover jammed under packed snow; the inside cover has the owner's name in blurred ink - Aeneas Mackintosh.  No pages, they have been ripped out.

The light reflection picks up as the sun lowers in the sky, but due to the season, the sun will not set.  A red-yellow flash again comes from the peak of the twisted mountain, with another further off in the mountain range.  Spider and Jack trudge up the hill to where Ben and the others wait, Bruno hauling Thorne along after them.   They relate their findings to Ben, Fritz and Nolan.

---------Everyone-------------

"It's nearly eight o'clock," Ben said, "But I'd feel safer to get a few more miles between us, and that camp.  Something bad happened here."   He eyed Thorne, who nodded.  Bruno was put back in his harness and the teams set out again, bearing South-South-East.  The unrelenting wind came back as the sun lowered in the sky, with the odd red and yellow flashes coming from the mountain tops - unclimbable mountaintops - in irregular patterns.  The sound of it, whistling and piping some unknown threat.  An hour later the bitter cold had worn out the dogs and they were still a day's journey or more from the supply drop, where they would be able to rest for a day or two.   The cold and the wind give little chance for rest, the wind shrieking out of the mountains in that nerve-grating random music.  Even after wrapping their heads to dampen the noise it is still difficult to rest.  The dogs are restless as well and it is an unpleasant night, but there were no attacks.   Jack saw no sign of his albatross, but he did notice that Fritz would look at the sky every so often.

Camp food was still decent, the careful cooking of which Spider either did himself or at least oversaw.  It required a couple of strong pots of coffee to get the agents underway the next morning, with Fritz cajoling the reluctant sled dogs - until Bruno began barking at them.  The cadence and pitch of the hellhound sounded almost like talking, and some of the huskies, such as Eska and Kaskae, were talking back.  Some accord seemed to have been reached among the canines as they went to their places to be harnessed without further argument.  Spider took the lead, keeping the same heading as the previous day, which put the mountains slightly to their right.  Next was Fritz, then Nolan and Jack, with Thorne again the rear guard.

It is another long day, bitterly cold and windy, but a welcome sight is spotted about five in the evening; the first cache of supplies, Camp One.  The crates are intact, their parachute however is shredded by the wind and ice.   This meant bigger tents, cots as opposed to bedrolls, and a better supply of food.  By nine o'clock they had a good tent up, the cots unfolded, the big camp stove lit, and the dogs were chewing on a good dinner of dog pemmican and special cooked cakes, which had been prepared for them by Leonhard Seppala himself.  The camp dinner for the humans was roasted potatoes, beef stew and carrots, with a cup each of tinned pears for dessert.  There was plenty of kerosene to keep the camp stove on for warmth.  With a set of windbreaks made of the ripped parachute and a canvas sheet, Fritz managed to subdue the wind to a point where the agents had some relief from the whistling.   The agents were exhausted, and no one had much to say; watches were set, but there was nothing to trouble them.  The next morning came with a series of snow squalls, and the weather made a good excuse to stay in the tent and rest.  Ben tried to read through some notes and kept falling asleep anyway, Thorne and Fritz set up the radio and tried to contact Doan.  The reception was miserable, static so severe it was impossible to tell if they'd made contact or not.  Candles in hurricane glasses provided light inside the tent.

The sled dogs were talking again off and on, but it sounded more like conversation than anything to be concerned about.  Fritz got their booties and began to clean and repair them, while Thorne played Solitaire on his cot.  A laundry line was strung up and there were socks drying in the warmth of the stove.  It wasn't home, but it was as close as they were going to get for a while.   Dinner, a rich soup of chicken bouillon fortified with dried vegetables was simmering on the stove, to be eaten with fresh biscuits Spider had baked earlier, along about five o'clock.   The snow was still whipping around outside.  All in all, quite nice to be inside, considering....

....then the dogs began howling and shrieking, with Bruno's deep growl rumbling as a hostile undertone.

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GM: Actions, etc, for the next few minutes of game time, please respond by 5 March, Saturday, next post is Sunday.
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Spider immediately grabbed the big rifle and checked the action, making sure that severe cold had not frozen it up.   He grabbed one of the torches that would project as much light as possible, despite the conditions and readied to step outside.  "We have to defend the dogs.  Not only are they adorable, but we're dead without them."

Jack likewise suits up, with the wand reachable in its custom pocket, and straps on a belt with a pair of flare pistols along with his .45.  He shoves a few extra flares in an outside pocket for quick reloading. When they step out, if they can see the dogs and the direction that they are reacting towards, Jack will fire a flare in a high arc to illuminate the dogs and the area where the threat seems to be. He will shoot high, so it gives light for a while, but makes sure to angle it far enough that it will land well past the dogs.
Other than that, he will quickly scan the area around the tent for tracks. He will try to keep Spider in sight at all times.

… alternatively, if the dogs are in an outer portion of the big tent (as was the case at the earlier camp) as opposed to being outside, Jack will fire the flare high in the direction they seem to be reacting towards. If the direction is unclear, he will fire upwind, figuring they smelled something on the wind.

The Expedition Stage 1: Getting There pt 8

-----Outside the tent-----
Snow was whipping along in the changing winds, and the dogs outside were in a frenzy; it was nearly impossible to see anything from the tent.  Spider checked on Matilda, the heavy rifle a reassuringly solid item.  The most steady torch was one of the camp lanterns that was near the tent flaps.  As he went, he saw Fritz speedily grabbing his coat, and Thorne flipping open the heavy weapons case.  Ben was struggling out of his slumber and Nolan was still out cold.  Jack was likewise arming up, getting on his coat.  One of the dogs shrieked and the rest howled - with Bruno's heavy snarl.

---------The dogs------
The sled dogs and the hellhound are tangling with something, the snarling and growling has gotten fierce; a huge rent in the dog's shelter was flapping in the wind.  A horrific smell flowed through the air, like rotting squid left in the sun for a week.  Something was flying in the wind and snow, something that was a substantial shadow in the light of the lowering sunlight.  It moved almost like a jellyfish on the wind current, its exact appearance not easily discerned in the snow squall.  Spider tossed the lamp onto the snow to bring Matilda to bear on whatever it was, as the lifeless body of one of the huskies fell in a bloody heap at his feet.  Jack fired a flare at the shape, the bright light illuminating a barrel-shaped monstrosity, the size of a large man, with membranous combs or wings flaring out in the winds.  It tapered top and bottom, the middle about 3.5' thick; some kind of lashing stalks were whipping along with the odd wings.  The colour was hard to discern; it had a purplish iridescence, over a greyish green hide.   Spider raised Matilda and fired, but his shot went wide as an eddy of wind lifted the thing higher.   Fritz, the next one out of the tent, simply froze and stared at the Thing flying in the snow, but Thorne snatched the Thompson submachine gun from him and raised it to fire.   (GM rolls: Jack, Spider and Thorne all saved vs. sanity check, and Fritz failed spectacularly).   The monster spins and twists in the wind, dividing its attention between the dogs, who are leaping up to snap at it, and the humans, who are opening fire.  Bruno leaps, the heavy muscle giving the beast a good vault, and latches onto one of its feet; the weight of the hellhound drags the creature downwards.  The wind and cold is brutal - none of the men had had enough time to properly dress for it, and aiming weapons is difficult with the conditions.  Bruno wrenches at the creature and rips its foot off, and the thing whistles in a nerve-grating shriek of sound.  The hellhound falls and rolls in the snow as the monstrosity it had just savaged whirls and lashes out with fine tentacles at the dogs.

Spider chambers another round and takes aim as Thorne rips a short burst at the Thing, before the Thompson jams.  Jack raises his .45........

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GM: Actions, etc, for the next few minutes of game time, please respond by Saturday, 12 March, next post Sunday.   We seem to have lost Nolan, so I'll NPC him for a while.
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Spider takes a few steps closer, aims carefully and tries for center mass of the horrifying creature.

With more confidence in the effectiveness of a flare rather than a .45 slug against the monstrous creature, Jack pulls the other flare pistol from his belt and fires it as accurately as he can as the creature is hovering. (Keeper please roll.)
*IF* the creature persists in attacking despite the gunfire, flares, and maiming courtesy of Bruno, Jack will draw the wand and utter a prayer as he aims it:
“Benevolent Athena, help me strike down this unclean abomination that has no place here in the world of men.” He will try to open himself as a conduit for energy to flow through him and the wand, rather than allowing the wand to just pull energy out of him.

Expedition pt 1: Getting there pt 8

---------------Outside in the snow-----------

The dogs are in a frenzy, alternately yelping and dodging back, then trying to latch their teeth onto the monster.   This is keeping it distracted, so its attention is fixed on them. Spider lifts Matilda and aims for the middle of the barrel shape.  Jack fires the flare into the thing,  the Very's payload exploded out with a blaze of fire and shredded the left side of the monstrosity's body, lacing it with burning phosphorous.  Once again, Matilda's voice booms across the frozen wasteland a second later.   The floating Thing rocked and folded, its weird membranous wings flapping to try to keep it aloft.  Thorne had thrown down the jammed Thompson and pulled his LeMat from his shoulder harness, bracing with both hands and feet firmly planted.  The LeMat spat grapeshot at the monster and punched another hole in its weird shape.  It tumbled from the sky, and then the dogs were on it; in a flash, grey-green ichor was splashing onto the snow and its dying whistling was barely heard above the fury of the canines.

But Jack noticed the wand was again in his hand, though he hadn't consciously drawn it - and his coat was still fastened.

"What...the...."  Ben had finally clambered out of the tent to see what was going on, and had thought to at least put his boots, coat and hat on.   The stench hit him and he coughed.  "That - that was an Elder Thing ?"
"Yep," said Thorne, fishing the strap of the Thompson out of the snow.  "Cold out here. Let's go in."
"The dogs -" Fritz said, starting towards them, but Thorne grabbed his shoulder and shoved him back towards the tent.
"Not safe to be around them right now, we'll take a look later and patch them up if they need it."  Thorne chivvied them along.
"But -" Ben said, but at a glare from Thorne, gave up and went back inside the tent.

---In the tent-----

Ben waited until everyone was inside, then fastened the tent flaps closed.  Thorne had gone right to the camp stove and was holding his hands out for heat.   Fritz was sitting on a cot, the Thompson next to him, blankly staring off into space.  Nolan was still unconscious, but it looked as if Ben had tried to waken him.  Jack and Spider were cold too, and the warmth of the tent was a welcome relief.  Frostbite could occur very quickly, even in the Antarctic summer.
"Okay." Ben said, assuming the Boss voice.  "That was - well handled.  We will need to be aware of attacks and it seems like the dogs are going to know about it before we do. Is everyone all right ?"
Everyone was more or less all right, though Nolan wasn't waking up.
"We'll go and look at the dogs once they calm down." Thorne said, nodding at Fritz. "There's a medical kit in my gear bag, we can stitch up any injuries."
"We will still stay here another day," Ben said. "Longer, if we need to."
"Okay by me," Thorne said, and kicked Fritz's boot.  The German nodded, finally waking up a little.  "Have some dinner, go see the dogs, set a watch, all good stuff."

-----Later----
The snow squalls had died away, leaving a clear sky with some high clouds.  The wind had fallen off, and the incessant whistling seemed less obvious, or perhaps they were getting accustomed to the noise.

The camp's main tent had become an impromptu infirmary for the injured dogs.  Three had died in the attack, including Eska, a death that had shaken Fritz very hard.  Bruno had a few fresh cuts on his ugly muzzle, but was cheerfully licking his chops.  Seven more dogs had injuries, two seriously injured, but all in all, they would still have full teams to pull the sleds after another day of rest.  There was little left of the Eldar Thing besides a fading stink, some scattered flesh and greyish ichor; the dogs had ripped it to shreds.   Kaskae, Spider's lead dog, had a foreleg injury and was begging shamelessly for table scraps as soon as he was in the tent.  The most injured dogs were brought in and settled into Fritz's cot, wrapped in blankets and hand fed.   The rest of the dogs sheltered in their own tent, rigged back up by Thorne and Fritz, with Bruno keeping them warm.   Ben set up a mirror and a candle, and checked his watch.  Exactly at midnight, he spoke a spell, in the harshly accented Akkadian, and the mirror fogged, then cleared, the image of the candle splitting in two and then changing into a single flame.  "We're still alive, an Elder Thing attacked." he said quietly.
"Are you all right ?" came Mikaela Weintraub's voice from the mirror.
"We are, so far.  Nolan's ill.  No frostbite.  Camp One."
"Doan radioed in earlier.  Supplies are coming by air."
"Who sent them ?" Ben asked.
"Edith.  Coordinates 77°13.981’S, 158°13.450’. We miss you."
"I love you.  Be careful."
"Be careful. I love -" Mikaela's voice faded, as the candle guttered out, and the mirror fogged again.  Ben silently set the candle aside and put the mirror away, pausing only to write down the coordinates.

Spider had Matilda to see to; the big rifle seemed to take to any weather just fine, though he noted that the Thompson had jammed due to too much lubricant, which had solidified.  Fritz sat down to examine all their weapons as the two dogs on his cot slept the night away.   Thorne snored, with a husky sprawled across his feet, also snoring.  Nolan slept on.   Jack went outside to look into the skies, still hazy with sunlight, though it was the middle of the night; from out of the high-banked clouds, a single bird soared, a sea bird of some size, white and grey.  The sight of the bird so far from sea was unusual, but also comforting.
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GM:   Please respond with actions for the next few hours of game time, by Saturday 19 March, next post on Sunday.
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Spider sat silent for a bit, petting the dogs for comfort.  Both his and theirs.  He finally said, "I know we need to rest after that fight, but I'm not sure we should stay too long.  That bloody piping keeps working on us all, and it gives whatever works against us more time to hit us while we're stationary.  Once we have those supplies, if we can, I think we should move on.  I just hope we gi3ve the dogs enough time to recover."  He glanced at Ben.  "How far are those coordinates from here?  I'm willing to go after them if it's not too far."

Jack is pleased that using the wand was not necessary. He smiles at the sight of the bird flying in the weird night sky.
Back inside, he makes a cup of tea with a shot of brandy “to help me relax”, and offers the same to Fritz nonchalantly. He again keeps an eye on Ben as well as the unwaking Nolan, trying to keep a careful gauge of everyone’s mental health and disposition.
Still, he needs to rest, too, so he says a prayer to Athena, thanking her for her continued guidance and protection, then climbs into his bed.

Expedition Part One: Camp One pt 9

--------Everyone-------
"We're staying another day.  For the dogs.  If we lose any more, we'll have to leave behind equipment we need to survive."  Ben sounded quite reasonable to Spider, but then he always did seem to have a lot of emotional control.  "I'm not sure how far we are from the drop - and she didn't mention when it was coming, but I guess it will be soon.  I'll go over our maps and try to determine how long it will take us to get there."

Jack offers a spiked drink to Fritz, who accepts it with quiet thanks.   It takes the German a while to settle down to sleep, and as Jack settles in, he sees Ben quietly unscrolling their maps and looking at them carefully, comparing their estimated location to where the equipment drop would be using the sextant readings that Fritz had been taking.   Ben took the last watch of the 'night'.   All was quiet.

The agents and their support staff of huskies and a hellhound had briefly settled into a campsite now, and are recovering from their recent attack.  Only two of the dogs will need to be placed in the sleds, the others are able to run alongside, or pull in harness.  Fritz's team leader is replaced by a smallish husky named Kavi.  Overall the dogs seemed to be unbothered by their encounter with the Mythos, though they were quieter than yesterday.  Nothing much is left of the Elder Thing that had been torn up by the dogs, and apparently mostly eaten by Bruno, whose digestion wasn't right the next day.   The hellhound refused charcoal biscuits and would only lap up gelled petroleum.   Nolan was also unresponsive, in a deep slumber.   "We'll pack him into a sled, with the injured dogs, they'll keep each other warm.  Remember, Seppala told us about altitude sickness - and we have had more training than Nolan."

Their gear is repaired, cleaned, and made ready for departure.  Thorne refills his medical kit from their supplies and the agents secure the tent, in case they had to return to it sooner than expected.   "Here's what I think," Ben said, laying out the maps and showing the agents the route.  "The drop is this way, Southeast.  I think it's going to be on top of a glacier.  That might mean difficult terrain.  This puts us out of our path into the mountains, but  Edith would only send us equipment if she believed we had to have it, and it might be more than one sled can carry.  We should also stay together for safety.   I'm hoping we can get there in ten hours, maybe make camp on or near the glacier.   We'll switch lead drivers every couple of hours, to keep our eyes fresh on the path.  There could be loose ice, crevasses, all kinds of trouble."

The dogs were harnessed and the gear was packed, at least what they were taking with them.  Back into the cold, with the wind coming from the mountains, shrill and whistling.  Jack was the first leader, setting a steady pace following the new route.  At each break, Fritz took out the sextant and copied down readings, comparing it to the route, and minor adjustments were made.  Clouds blew in but without adding ice and snow.  It was about three o'clock in the afternoon that an orange blur was visible on an ice ridge some miles distant.   The binoculars showed a couple of orange flags attached to something in a net, on top of a huge ice shelf.   Spider took the next lead, and was cautious in his approach; when his lead dog Kaskae shied and slowed the team, he heard a creaking sound deep underfoot.  The ice deep underneath them was cracking.
(GM rolled a 01% for Spider's perception.)   The agents stopped before it became dangerous to proceed.

The rest of the journey to the supplies would need to be made on foot, carefully.  Thorne unpacked ice cleats and rope, with ice axes.   "Okay, Boss isn't going, because who would sign our paychecks, Nolan's out of it, that leaves Jack, Fritzi, Spider and me."
"You can't climb up there, so I will go," Fritz said.  This provoked a round of rock-scissors-paper between the two.  Thorne won.
"Okay," the Southerner said smugly, settling a roll of rope over his shoulder. "Who's going with me, I'm not carrying all that stuff back myself."  The dog that had slept on his feet was one of the unharnessed dogs, and was now ambling over towards him.  "And she's not carrying it either.  Look at you, Precious."  He patted the dog and dropped the rope.
"Fritz, you're staying here, with a rifle," Ben said, as the German went for the rope. "Spider, Jack, either or both of you go with Thorne.  Be careful.  We'll wait here."
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GM: Actions, please, for the next hour of gametime, by Saturday, 26 March, next post Sunday
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Spider frowned and stared at them as if they were out of their minds.  "Why on Earth would anyone assume I'm NOT going to climb?  If anyone can climb that bloody face, it'll be me.  Jack, you're welcome to come.  But no way I'm letting any of you near that ice wall without me belaying you."  He came from a family of alpinists, and being the first of them to ascend something in Antarctica was just as much of an allure as was ensuring the safety of his friends.

Jack laughs out loud at Spider’s insistence on making the climb.
“Saw THAT coming a mile away! You could probably climb it blindfolded, too. And we may be a long way from the tidal flats of the Chesapeake Bay, but I’m up for the challenge of some new terrain.”
He then adds with the slightest hint of defensiveness, “I did all the reading, and practiced with the gear.”
     As usual, he will wear a belt with his .45 (with Fritz’s special loads) and two flare pistols, and carry several reloads for each in his pockets. The wand, too, needless to say. Also a sturdy sheath knife, a compass, a brass lighter, matches, and a metal cup. Visions of Shackleton’s stranded crew haunt the edges of his thoughts…. He pushes them away by uttering a prayer for Athena’s guidance, and keeps his eyes open for signs of the giant bird.

The Expedition Stage 1: Getting There pt 10
------Everyone---------
Spider's immediate protest earned him some grins in return.  The men gathered up their gear, and headed towards the ice cliff.

"See ya, Bossman - you're one of the good ones.  If I don't come back, you'll have to come get me,"  Thorne told Ben and Fritz.  "Bruno, Stay.  Precious, Stay," Thorne said to the two animals, and set off towards the ice cliff.  Bruno laid down in the snow in a huff, and Precious clambered on top of his shoulders to curl up.

Thorne, Spider and Jack hiked up the ice shelf towards the cliff where the supply drop was placed, the orange flags waving in the stiff wind.  Closer, it looked like several wooden crates gathered in a rope net, and a parachute was spread out across the ice, fortunately flat.  The ice was sheer, a climb of about seventy feet, and there was a faint grinding sound coming from the glacier.  Spider looked at their gear, checking the ice axes, rope and pitons.  Jack made the first ascent, with Spider as the belaying weight, then Spider climbed up, and both of them assisted Thorne.

Thorne waved enthusiastically at the dogsleds from the top of the cliff, getting a wave back from both Ben and Fritz.   "What a view !"  He said, and fished out his camera to take a picture.   The more practical agents looked at the crates, most oddly sized, which were marked with "DOD Shipment, Authorized Personnel Only, BPRD office supplies."  They could see for a good distance; a wave of clouds was rippling in from the East, obscuring the horizon, and the mountains were rising to the South.  They were still far away from their target.

Spider applied an ice axe to one of the crates, wrenching it open.  What was inside was a surprise indeed.  Packed in straw was a row of strange-looking ice axes - made of a metal that was very lightweight, and covered in some kind of coating that was easy to grip.  The handles were not wood, but the same metal substance, oddly curved, and felt warm to the touch.   The next box held tough metal piton clamps that would fit over their mukluks with  fabric straps that were durable as new leather, but much lighter in weight.  The third box had more boxes inside it, of some waxed-paper wrapped food cakes marked Emergency Rations, a letter in a sealed envelope marked for 'Ben Weintraub or the current Expedition Leader', a bunch of greenish sticks of some celluloid-like material, some coils of rope in an unknown fiber but of very good quality, lightweight and strong.  Also in there was a strange case made of some kind of bakelite plastic, labelled 'Oxygen System' and another marked "Radio Tracker'.  The long thin crate held three pairs of skis and ski poles, made of some kind of lightweight material that was not wood.  The last crate was doubly-padded, and labelled, "High Energy Explosives" in about five languages, English, German, French, and two Asian scripts.  Another letter was taped to it with strange silver tape, marking it "Fritz.  Mit liebe, Fritz."  Lastly, there was a tin of chocolate chip cookies from Edith with a little note telling them she missed them all very much.   Thorne took a couple more pictures.  "How do we get all this down from here ?"  he then asked.

They began to lower the crates down, using the net and the ropes.  Braced on the fancy skis, the crates moved cleanly over the ice and snow.  They were able to drag the crates along easily enough with tow ropes; and to replace their current gear with this new stuff would lighten the load in the sleds.  Spider tested out one of the new ice axes and nearly pitched his old one away right then and there; the new one was perfect.

Ben accepted the letter addressed to himself and began reading aloud.

"Dear Boss,
I trust you will know what to do with this equipment that I made Mr. Ellison deliver to coordinates given to me by your consultant Mr. Macey.  We are managing at the office well enough and hope you are doing well.  Instructions for the new equipment are enclosed in their respective boxes.  Deleas omnia antequam redeas.  Mr. Macey sends his regards to Mr. Mallory and begs his indulgence.   We await your safe return.
Warmly,
Edith."

"My handwriting," Fritz said, looking at the letter he had.  It was a series of instructions, in German, and in Fritz's neat handwriting, with diagrammes.  The small box had what looked like fuses in one case, and the other, grey claylike bricks of something marked 'C4'.  He looked at the clay, then the letter, and back again.
"Macey brought it from the future.  All of this stuff, it's from the future."  Ben said, gesturing at the crates and their bounty.
"Mmmm, cookies," Thorne said, munching.  "If we're going to steal stuff from a civilisation that's advanced, to quote you, Boss; what difference does it make if we use equipment that's advanced, to do it ?"
Ben gave that a moment of thought, then shrugged.   "So long as we don't keep the new stuff, we may as well use it.  Spider, Luke Macey is - or will be, your employee, so it's up to you what to do with him.  I'm giving up on that one."
"Shame he couldn't give us the racing news or some good stock tips," Thorne said, passing the tin of cookies over and surveying the nearest sled, to determine what to throw out to make room for the new stuff.

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GM:  Please respond with actions, etc, for the next hour of game time, by Saturday 2 April, next post is Sunday.
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Spider frowned and muttered, "I bloody hate this time travel nonsense.  It doesn't even make the paperwork easier. If anything, it generates more." He sighs, then once again turns to the practical side of things.  "Right.  For each item we can replace, we drop an older, heavier one.  And anything that makes it all the way back from the expedition, we might consider dropping into a deep part of the ocean on our way back."  He sees Fritz eying the malleable explosives.  "But maybe not everything."  He ate a cookie as he began sorting through old and new equipment.  "Then if we've time, we should press on.  We're still quite a ways off from our final destination."

Jack is quite excited to go climbing, especially as it is a nice break from the monotony of the sledding. He is even happier that it goes well!
When he sees the gear from the future, he remarks, “Ah, of course.“ He looks over the green celluloid-like sticks to see if they are food, fuel, or more explosives. He of course agrees with Spider that they should replace their gear. “We can stash the old stuff in the crates and mark it, in case we should need it later.” He also agrees about tossing the future gear in deep water once they’re through with it, though it pains him a bit.
He happily eats a cookie or two, thanking Edith out loud. Later, when there is more time, he will certainly familiarize himself with the oxygen and radio tracker units.

Expedition Part 1: Getting There pt 11

-------Everyone---------
The day had been long, and it was close to ten o'clock at 'night' when the agents finally had settled into a temporary campsite, far enough from the glacier to be considered safe.  The shipment of equipment that was obviously technology from the future was considered and looked over carefully and the cookies were shared out.  Edith's sublime sugary treats were quite welcome.  The climbers felt tired, but the new gear they had brought back was interesting indeed.

Spider and Thorne happily set to chucking aside heavier equipment to replace it with the lighter 'new' stuff.  "Gotta catch this Macey fellow and have a word or two with him with many thanks," the Southerner said, as he surveyed one of the new ice axes.  "Seems like a man looking out for our best interests."

"This is for Nolan," said Fritz, having opened the "Oxygen System" box and carefully reading the instructions.  "It is for treating altitude sickness, and will not be in danger of explosion with flame."  He turned the next page and referred to the machine again.
Jack, looking over his shoulder, could see how the machine worked; quite simply, it concentrated oxygen and supplied it through tubing into a human's nasal passages, or into a mask that could be strapped onto a face.  It weighed less than three pounds and would not run out of power, as far as he could tell.  In short order the machine was powered up and applied to the somnolent rookie agent, in hopes of his recovery.

"Now, how would we figure out what kind of metal this is ?"  Thorne asked about the axe, the gleam of money in his eyes.
"We have to get rid of it, Thorne, that's what the Latin meant."  Ben was looking over the Radio Tracker.  "This is already set with the location of the Carstairs Two.  And there's a small thing that we can place to mark another location.  And this little thing will work - for six months."  He gave the directions to Jack once Nolan was hooked up to oxygen, and the tiny device had better range, clearer imaging, than anything he had ever seen before, beating out the radiovision demonstration they'd seen recently.   "So we mark where we enter the City, to find our way back out, and then find our way back to the ship.  And....look.  It can tell us our location right now.  So no more guess work.  It shows the South Pole clearly."
"Don't call me, Mr. Shackleton, I know where I am," Thorne said, with a laugh, as he set the new ice axe into his pack.
"He survived," Ben said quietly, giving Thorne a sharp look.
"He got lost too.  We KNOW Fritz survives, because he wrote a letter to himself.  So we have a damn good chance now."  Thorne replied, unabashed.  "So then, I'll take this watch, with Precious and Bruno.  Then one of you can look at the snow."  He sauntered out with Precious following, and was heard calling to Bruno.

Jack looked at the long bright green sticks and saw the directions printed on one end.  "Bend and shake, 12 hours"  They seemed to be some kind of light-emitting stick, disposable and lightweight.   Clearly their mysterious consultant had some kind of knowledge that they'd need certain items.   Fritz packed the High Energy Explosives away with a great deal of caution, and went over the directions again, with one of the more injured dogs sharing his cot, sleeping at the end. Five minutes later both the Husky and the German were snoring.

"Hey, hey, look at this !"  Thorne was heard to yell, about one o'clock in the morning.  Bruno was growling and Precious was yelping, which soon set off the rest of the sled dogs.  The light had faded down to a glimmer, the sun so low in the sky, and there was red and yellow light sparking on the tops of the mountains to the South.  There was a kind of pattern to it, but not an easy one to figure out.
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GM:  Please respond with actions, etc, for the next few hours of game time, by Saturday, 9 April, next post on Sunday.
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Spider had been planning on taking the second shift, so he stepped out into the cold to see what had attracted Thorne's attention.  He jotted down some notes on the pattern, hoping his study of mathematics while learning physics might help him clean some information.  Or determining if the lights were simply signals from one place to another.

At Thorne’s shout, Jack’s eyes snap open and he leaps up, pulling pants and boots on like a fireman, then throws on his parka. He rushes out brandishing a flare pistol, only to stop short when he sees Thorne staring at the strange lights. He sheepishly holsters the flare gun while watching the lights himself, looking for patterns.
     “Can you see anything more with binoculars?” he asks. “Did that just start, or was it there before and we can only see it now that the sun is low?” He tries silently counting time between the flashes, looking for mathematical patterns — squares, cubes, Golden Ratio, digits of pi or e, Fibonacci sequence, etc. He asks Fritz or Ben to try to pinpoint the lights on their maps. If nothing comes of all this after a half hour, Jack will check the skies for birds,  relieve himself, and climb back into his bed.