George and Frank have just settled under a tree to eat sandwiches (greatly interesting Bee) when the Duesenberg rolls down the logging road, parking on the verge. James and Christine get out, along with Thomas and Dr. Bliant.

There should be enough light to prepare a meal, then stories of the day can be exchanged around the fire.

Friday, 3 September 1926, Evening,  The Miskatonic Camp
"Of course, not everybody likes camping trips.
I do not myself enjoy them much, because I'm not outdoorsy, or at any rate, I'm not outdoorsy overnight-without-a-matress-wise.
There's a limit to the outdoorsiness to which some academics can be expected to submit." G.A. Cohen, Why Not Socialism?

    Theaker gets out of the Duesenberg, opens Christine's door and helps her out. He digs out some of the provisions that they bought in Blackwater Creek and puts them away. He says hello to George, Frank and Bee.

    He sits down for a few minutes and discusses what they have seen and heard in Blackwater Creek.

Bee had been quite firmly informed that she was allowed a piece of well de-mustarded sandwitch ham if she would lie quiet and when the humans had finished the rest (Bee did manage these conditions and did, definitely, enjoy some mildly washed sandwitch ham). George already has his captured flecks transferred to one of the tin cans from lunch by the time the others return. He and Frank catch the others up likewise on their findings around the neighbouring farms.

"Sounds like them all in town've got sores the like of what got Jarvey's sow," is George's opinion. "All the more reason to get that bite cleaned, Frank, a critter survivin in water like that. And I reckon you all-" he looks about at the men of the party who went to town "-got the Cartwrights' "gift" now, whether that comes with sores or what all, seein' as they're usin the poisin water up there n' it's likely Cartwright 'shine is down at the shop. Don't know that disease would survive the alcohol, but if it's some kind of mineral or rock poisin, well, that won't show up 'til yez break out, unless there's enough of 'er to show colour in some burnt liquor."

"That given, I would advise you, Mister Theaker an' Doctor Bliant, go and take these critters to the veternery feller we met first thing and see what they is and what kind a poisin they can live in. Seein as it looks to be that that's the "Mother-gift" the Cartwrights are waterin' their corn on." He gets up and takes then proffers the can of critters to Dr. Bliant, resettling on his camp stool and piled coat.

"So. What I would plan for tomorrow is to head up to the Creek source and come down the way, see if the excavation would interfere or interact with it at all, so vexin' the Cartwrights or any other types who might have taken up the cult and seen any heathen artefacts as a holy sign from Her In The Thickets."

Reminded, George takes in a breath where he sits, warming his hands on his coffe mug. "That said, Missus Theaker - did you bring out Henry's day book from the camp? Or one with the...small find numbers, for the artefacts? If he found somethin' that might get took for an omen, well, they might have off with it but they wouldn't remember about the con-text."

Frank makes a report, consulting his small notebook as he speaks: "George says there's strange stuff going on in the woods along that creek--strange growth and such with the plants in the woods and the corn on their peoperty and at the Cartwright farm. The Jarveys seemed to confirm it. I don't know enough about rural goings on to be sure, but I trust George.

"I'd be glad to have you check my foot, Doc."
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:34, Tue 23 June 2020.

Dr. Bliant takes Frank into one of the tents and examines his foot by the light of an oil lamp turned up high.

"I don't find evidence of a bite or any other wound or lesion," he says when they've rejoined the group, trying not to betray any skepticism, "But I swabbed it down with alcohol and painted it with iodine as a precaution against infection.

"As for the flecks you had netted, Mr. Mogrey, I only find little fragments in this can." He shows the contents, or lack thereof, to George and to James. "It may be a good idea to go back to ask those children where they got their specimens or perhaps even try to purchase their jar so we can take them to Mr. Merritt the veterinarian, or even to the Biology Department at Miskatonic."

The empty can causes George some perplexity. "Now, I know I turned out two critters in there at the least...can't have both et'n the other..." He squints in there, takes the can and swirls it around a little in case flat things have concealed themselves against the side. "They'nt there," he concludes, baffled. "Maybe they've an adaptation for mercury like sea fish breathe salt and only salt - die in fresh water - but there ought to be bodies..."

Friday, 3 September 1926, Evening,  The Miskatonic Camp
"The most confused you will ever get is when you try to convince your heart and spirit of something your mind knows is a lie." Shannon L. Alder

    Theaker looks at the almost empty can.  "Those 'ashes' are interesting.  The 'critters' just turned to ashes.  As you suspect those seem to be the same as the ones the children were playing with.  As for getting more of the 'critters', it seems they will find us easy enough if we go into he water.  Maybe a bit of fresh ham on a string would attract them.

    I suggest we try that tomorrow.  When we get enough, we can sent them and the alcohol I bought in town to Miskatonic for examination.

    After that, I'm thinking we examine the creek upstream for a bit. I feel whatever is happening is based on or near the water.  Let's fortify our legs with some thick canvas wrappings to help prevent those 'critters' from additional dining. The Roades might have seen the same things we witnessed and tried to find the source.

    Perhaps what the Roades discovered, made them to dangerous to the bootleggers or someone else."

"I never heard of anything like that," George says bemusedly at the assumption the animals had disintegrated into the remnant particles. "An' I guess it's your health, but I would strongly advise you get those critters looked at first thing, so as to know what it is you've drunk."

He shakes his head at the notion of wading upcreek. "Water critters'll just flow up under wrappins an' you'll just come to the Cartwrights' dam besides. You're welcome to come up'n walk down from the source with me, though." He addresses Christine a touch more than Theaker at that, however, hoping that the party member with least inclination to trouser-wearing might take the most sensible approach.

Friday, 3 September 1926, Evening,  The Miskatonic Camp
"We usually learn from debates that we seldom learn from debates." Mokokoma Mokhonoana

    Theaker responds, "I would suspect that if you did not properly create the leggings and properly put them on, then yes they would probably not work.  I think we can do it properly, I want to look at the source tomorrow.

    So tomorrow, let's also try fishing for some of those 'critter'.

    We should set watches this evening, those bootleggers might try something."

Christine eats fairly silently, only answering the question. "I didn't take anything from the camp unfortunately aside from a few books, in hindsight I could have been more practical of the whole thing." She admits, and listens while George looks for his own specimens of the local water supply. Recalling herself if she has drunk any of the local water supply.

"I know it's something of an endeavour, but would it be worth taking a car and picking up water from somewhere close by? So we're supplied at the least. I'm sure I'm not the only one who's concerned about what we could be drinking here?"

When an opportune moment presents itself, Christine slips back to her own tent, gathering the research notes recovered earlier from the Rhodes' camp.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:07, Mon 29 June 2020.

"It is surely concernin, but I've a confidence in the farm pump, Missus Theaker - Brewer would have noticed if the poisin'd got down to the groundwater," George assures Christine.

"None of Brewers' hands nor kin that I've seen have got the sores, and there weren't critters in what we used this morn. No, that poisin'll be either from what the Cartwrights're puttin' in their part as holy devotions or somethin disturbed higher up - could be Henry did that."

"If indeed these creatures are unique to this place, perhaps to this time, I doubt that Dr. Merritt will know much of them. We should secure samples of the fauna and of the creek water, as well as the moonshine for testing at the University, I think.

"I will volunteer to take them back to Arkham. Perhaps, Mr. Mogrey, you could drive me down in the truck?"

"No need for George to give up his search for his cousin. I've studied his techniques enough that I figure I can handle The Beast."

"That's a long supposition, Doctor Bliant - there's plenty of crawling and sucking things I can't identify by sight, especially the rarer types. They're easy enough to catch, though, and plentiful - you can take some back, we'll take some to the vet and you can tell the university to send in police if we're not back when we should be." He manages not to smirk at the thought of Bliant doing the cranking, chok and occasional unsticking work in the mud patches that had been Frank's part on the way out.

"As for watches, why is it you've a suspicion they'd lay for us, Professor?" George asks, concerned at the need for such. "Did you bring away something of interest to them yourself or d'ye jus' reckon Stoughton has gone and got 'em up against us to save us making trouble for him?,"

[[edit: tone fix.]]
This message was last edited by the player at 18:01, Sun 28 June 2020.

Christine returns, handing the books over. "It's all research notes, above me I'm afraid, but maybe you can get something from them?" She says. "I do hope so at any rate."

"Thank you, Missus Theaker," George says, passing what seems to be the more number-filled volume up to Theaker. "I wouldn't say I've a knowledge like your man here might have, just got to listenin to Henry - know you've got to keep a day book in case it pours with rain some days n' you miss a heap of old stuff, then it gets dry and you find it all. Record that with no note on the soil bein wicked sticky an' it looks like the folk lived in the places you dug dry and but hardly in the places you dug wet."

He pauses. "Ex-cavation bias, that's it. Likely you know better'n I about that. First I ever heard a spade could tell lies," he finishes, and turns to the last page in what he takes to be the daybook to look that over.

The sun has set some time ago (it's almost eight o'clock) and night has fallen very dark out here in the wilderness with a new moon and no sources of light except the campfire. It is much too dark to read the handwriting in either notebook or even the printed books Christine has in her tent.

George fetches his rifle and returns to his tent, turning the kerosene lantern up high enough that he can make out Henry's hand.

Frank takes the first watch with George's shotgun. He will wake James at eleven and James will turn the watch over to Thomas at three in the morning to watch until dawn.

[Does James review the log of recovered items before going to sleep?
Does Christine read any in the two books she brought back: Indian Tribes of the Northeast by Ethan Chapman (1893)— and Myths and Legends of Old Massachusetts by Oliver Stansfield (1913)?
The former is very scholarly, the latter in a more popular style.]

Friday, 3 September 1926, Evening,  The Miskatonic Camp
"Let us study things that are no more. It is necessary to understand them, if only to avoid them." Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

    Theaker inspects his M1911 Colt to make sure it is properly loaded and makes sure another clip is in one of his pockets.  He then begins to examine the log of recovered items.

George reads awhile and lies awake a bit longer, trying to recall what offhand things he'd heard about the end of the first settlement. Had it been the settlers killed off the Indians or the other way about? Enough time had passed here in the East that the word 'massacre' was used either way - blood was just part of the ground around here, as maybe it always was.

[[16:43, Today: George Mogrey rolled 7 using 1d100 with rolls of 7.  Archaeology? (22) Good sucess at knowing what Henry's on about there.]]

Outside, Bee is pleased to keep the watch company, if a bit confused that they don't also settle down to sleep.

Christine doesn't pay much heed to the books, reading them albeit briefly in the tent was enough, but as the night comes in she does sit outside, looking up at the stars, despite the situation at hand, it's easy to get lost in the expanse above her, out here the skies are so clear, a far flung cry from New York at any rate, before retiring herself and making her way back into the tent.

In reply to James Theaker, Ph.D. (msg # 18):

James finds everything as it should be in the dig ledger. There are some 77 items all told, including fragments of glass and pottery. Mostly they are consistent with a 17th century English colonial settlement, though there are a couple of dozen listed as Indian items, bone and antler and stone plus a few shells. The largest is the rim of an iron cauldron at 18" diameter. When he finishes, the combination of somewhat smeared handwriting and the kerosene light has given him a slowly throbbing headache.

By the time Frank scratches at the door of the tent, James has completed his review. Frank reports that all has been quiet and that Bee went into George's tent a short time earlier. George banked the campfire before retiring and the embers are glowing dully.

In reply to Christine Blake Theaker (msg # 20):

When Christine finds herself dozing in her camp chair, she carefully stubs out her cigarette and goes into the tent. Bidding James a fond goodnight, she crawls into her cot and sleeps.

Thomas retires to the tent he shares with Dr. Bliant. He finds the doctor snoring lightly. There is a slight odor of fermented peaches in the tent. He is tempted, but chooses to just turn in to get some sleep before his watch.

In reply to George Mogrey (msg # 19):

While George ponders fruitlessly on the archaeological implications of George's notes, he falls asleep. He doesn't even wake up when Bee comes in and curls up under his cot.

In reply to Keeper of the Dark Woods (msg # 21):

Saturday, 4 September 1926, Early Morning,  The Miskatonic Camp
"Sometimes I lie awake at night, and ask, 'Where have I gone wrong?' Then a voice says to me, 'This is going to take more than one night.'" Charles M. Schulz

    Theaker awakes when his watch is due to start.  He inspects the cap in a walk around and is seemingly satisfied that nothing is too far amiss.

OOC:
11:02, Today: James Theaker, Ph.D. rolled 34 using 1d100 with rolls of 34.  Resist moonshine: Pow: 65/32/13.
11:02, Today: James Theaker, Ph.D. rolled 9 using 1d100 with rolls of 9.  Stay awake: Con: 55/27/11.

The night is early-autumn cool. Although only the stars provide illumination, they impart a silvery glow so that everything--grass, branches and leaves, the Duesenberg, even the tents--is bathed in mystical radiance. And the fresh air! He wishes there was time to do more camping this season. It just makes a man feel so alive! He wishes Christine was awake.

It's almost three when he reaizes he's overstayed his watch and goes to wake Daniels. He stays up for more than a half hour more chatting with his young student.

George dreams vaguely about the things his grandfather would sometimes bring up under the plough, and of coming down to the shore - which was his Kingsport shoreline, but simultaneously Greenland - to see the tupilaq said to haunt the waste behind the whaling camp eating fish like an otter under the midnight sun. Eyes of carved bone, bleached grave-stealings showing through its canvas skin: white flecks in water among the reeds that faded as the abandoned assassin-golem swam down and down to some dark place and left the surface glassy.

[[Aw.]]

In reply to George Mogrey (msg # 27):

posted by Keeper

Thomas sits by the faintly glowing fire, listening to an occasional rustle in the surrounding darkness, nothing so heavy or aggressive to occasion fear, though he does realize he has no firearm and fetches the camp axe. He watches the eastern sky turn pink above the trees, then lavender. He hears the birds begin to greet the dawn with their song, tentative at first, then increasingly bold. The eastern sky goes blue as a golden disk gleams through the canopy, then the trunks. He realizes how many red and yellow leaves have fallen in the nighttime breeze.

He hears quiet voices from the Theakers' tent as they awake and a rasping cough that is probably George from the one he shares with Frank. From his own tent he Dr. Bliant's snore turns into a snort.

Soon everyone is awake, as Thomas stirs the embers of the fire and adds a few sticks, then a good-sized log. He greets his companions as the emerge.

"All quiet."

Bee emerges first, softly huffing a quiet 'good morning' to Thomas, doing a quick scan of the immediate landscape for rabbits and sniffing all about the camp to see if anything interesting's been around while she was asleep.

She's ambled off to go, perhaps, where the proverbial bear has been, by the time George has finished his morning coughing and started on the dressing and eventually the turning out on deck. "Good t'hear," he responds, and takes the big can for water.

Bee's back and keen for breakfast by the time he returns and sets to toasting up and otherwise making coffee, using a little of the warmed water to make up a savoury porridge of oats and beef fat for Bee. The hound is licking her bowl across the ground by the time the coffee's good to go.

Saturday, 4 September 1926, Morning,  The Miskatonic Camp
"You learned to run from what you feel, and that's why you have nightmares. To deny is to invite madness. To accept is to control." Megan Chance, The Spiritualist

    Theaker quietly gets up and walks out of the  tent he and Christine share.
    He then heads to the coffee pot and pours himself a cup.  He states, "What a nightmare i have had, or a premonition.  I must get to a phone as soon as I can.  My mother may need my help."

"Good mornin, Professor, and I'd think you'd want to ask in the village there - shop or Sheriff'll have such devices for sure." George warms his hands on his mug, thinking of the tupilaq swimming under the still tidal shallows of his dream with no need for breath. How it had looked up among the waving weeds with Abbie's face.

Did they dump you in the sea? he wonders at the image of her, and sips coffee. It would be better than the easy thing, the Cartwrights dwelling nigh a pig farm with a pit midden.

Christine emerges from the tent a short while later, pulling on a battered leather jacket, evidently once James' and better suited to his physique than her own, helping herself to a coffee.

"Morning everyone." She begins, and after a few sips of coffee, strong enough to fly her to the moon, she continues, now in a better place to engage everyone a little more socially at any rate. "What are we focusing on?" She asks, and at James' announcement she turns to him. "What? Is she OK?" Hoping that she's well, but the events surrounding the Rhodes' has her on edge, anything could happen to anyone it seemed, although the mention of his Mother specifically sends a shiver down her spine. "No more mention of mothers..." she wishes silently to herself. "The obsessional one here is quite enough."

posted by the Keeper

"Nope. There's no wires of any kind running into the village. I noticed when we drove in yesterday. No electricity, no telephone, not even telegraph. We wouldn't be here, I guess, if Professor Roades could have contacted Professor McTavish that easily.

"But why are you so concerned. James? Has your mother been ill?" He tries out using his mentor's Christian name for probably the first time. The casualness of camp seems to warrant it.

Bliant emerges from his tent, digging in his ears, muttering about headache and sinuses and the lack of walls and windows.

posted by the Keeper

"Good morning, everyone," says Frank as he goes to the fire and gets a cup of coffee, quietly singing.: "...folks up North will see me no more..." He sips at his cup and stands, stretching with a groan.

"When are we getting on the road, Doc? I'd like to be in Arkham before night."
This message was last edited by the player at 13:20, Fri 03 July 2020.

In reply to Keeper of the Dark Woods (msg # 34):

Saturday, 4 September 1926, Morning,  The Miskatonic Camp
"No man is poor who has a Godly mother." Abraham Lincoln

    Theaker is silent for a few moments then responds, "It's probably due my occult readings.  I feel sure that I must telephone or see my mother.
    I feel like she is in trouble or needs me.

    I'm going to take the car back to the first place where a phone is.  I'll leave in a few minutes."  Theaker goes back into the tent and does a quick clean up.

"Huh. Fair point," George agrees with the student, though he's not seen the village in daylight himself. He looks a bit puzzled at Theaker.

"Well, hey, if she's in Arkham why not have Doc'n Frank look in on her, since they're goin anyway?" He frowns into his mug a moment, thinking. Bee brings her bowl back and shows Christine since she's nearest, tail vaguely wagging since everyone's up.

The nearest phone is probably Dunwich. George is pretty sure the lines went up that way along the road. Theaker can probably be back by noon.

In reply to Frank Smith (msg # 36):

"Well, we must secure our specimens from the creek. If Mr. Mogrey will be so kind as to help, I imagine it will only take an hour or so. That is, after all, the point in our going."

posted by the Keeper

"I'll ride along with you, James, if you like.

"Or I can help Dr, Bliant and George."

Saturday, 4 September 1926, Morning,  The Miskatonic Camp
"My mom smiled at me. Her smile kind of hugged me." R.J. Palacio, Wonder

    Theaker says, "I'll be back by noon.  If I am not back by then, I've gone back to Arkham.  My mother will have needed me.  I'll be back as soon as is possible.
    Go ahead and get the samples, those are crucial.  Christine join me if you want too."  Theaker waits for Christine's decision then gets into the Duesenberg and drives off.

George nods. "Won't take but forty minutes, I'd say, but...well, who wants pickles with breakfast? We ought to use that jar an' on a string to be touching the water as little as possible. Theaker, you want to take beans with ye? No?" he shrugs and puts the can down.

He has a thought about dying dogs and their urge to den up, almost like going home, and poisoned water and Gerwig nested in his abandoned house, but it's nebulous and none of it good, so he doesn't speak it. Hope they found her, is all he can think on that. He reaches out to indicate that Bee can get ruffled and scratched some if she comes over.

Christine ruffles the fur between Bee's ears. "I don't have anything." She says to the dog.

"I'll stay and help George with the water, and see the town myself in daylight. Although do give her my best, I'll visit as soon as we make our return." she sees James off, as he takes out the Dusenberg. "Drive safe." She calls as the vehicle shudders to life, filling the air with the strong scent of gasoline.

Soon, George and the doctor and Thomas are down at the creek. They soon realize that dipping the pickle jar isn't a very efficient way of seining for critters. Bliant sends Thomas back to camp for the empty bean can. They punch some holes in the bottom and mange to catch about six samples that they put in the jar with a quantity of creek water.

Back at camp, Frank packs his and Bliant's things on The Beast and then frets about how late it's getting. Desperate for occupation, Christine skims the books she found, but is soon dozing in the late-morning sun.


Finally, the scientific party returns with their catch. Bliant and Frank get aboard The Beast and George and Thomas get it cranked up. Frank gets it out onto the logging road and they're away for Arkham.

It's about ten-thirty.

Saturday, 4 September 1926, around Noon,  The Miskatonic Camp
"And now you'll be telling stories of my coming back
and they won't be false, and they won't be true
but they'll be real" Mary Oliver, A Thousand Mornings

    Theaker drives the Duesenberg back carefully to the camp site, parks and gets out.

   When he finds Christine, he gives her a big hug. He says, "I phoned mom from a store.  She is fine, my worries were over nothing, just a bad dream.  Sometimes a nightmare is just a nightmare.  She will call McTavish  to update him and expect the specimens.  I told her that it looked like some foul play had happened to the Roades'.  I'm so glad to be back here with you!"
This message was last edited by the player at 12:58, Sun 05 July 2020.

As lunch is consumed, the reduced group discusses their plans for the afternoon.

"Goin by local geography, I put the source somewhere up about here," George says, indicating on the unhelpfully large-scale road map set on his knee.

"Found what Henry was blowin up though - in his daybook he mentioned clearin' rubble from a cave sealt up in revenge on the natives for some Quaker boy's death. He didn't make mention of how it was revenge, whether there was Injuns holed up in there or some important thing like idols, or both. That said, I have never heard of a Quaker killin' a man, save themselves when they'd not raise arms against trouble. Could be the ore up there that's poisin'd the water."

Christine smiles, relieved at the news. "I'm pleased to hear it." She says. Books in hand, they really had sent her off to sleep, as interesting as the material is to some, it wasn't to Christine's tastes. She hands the books to James.

"Perhaps you and Mr. Mogrey can garner something a bit more than I did." she suggests. "Maybe some possible leads, but if there are, they're beyond me."

"Henry wrote that some local legend was proved true, one relatin' to this cave," George volunteers. "I would imagine it would put some detail to the dead son and how Cade's camp got to hostilities with the locals - did you come across anything of that sort, Missus Theaker?"

Edit: corrected "Cole" to "Cade" - Keeper
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:23, Mon 06 July 2020.

Saturday, 4 September 1926, after Noon,  The Miskatonic Camp
"You know,” he said, “I wish you could see this cave.”
“What’s it like?”
He paused. “It’s...beautiful, really.”
“Tell me.”
And so Po described to Katsa what hid in the blackness of the cave; and outside, the world awaited them." Kristin Cashore, Graceling

    Theaker takes the books that Christine hands him and does a quick examination of them.

    He responds to Mogrey, "Definitely sounds like we want to see that cave!  Perhaps it may help fill in the just what may have happened to the Roades'.  I suggest we get some torches and a kerosene lamp. I'll grab my backpack and also bring some road flares I've got in the Duesenberg.  Shall we go now?"

Saturday, 4 September 1926, after Noon,  The Miskatonic Camp
"Being self-made means putting yourself in position to help others put themselves in position to be successful." A Boogie wit da Hoodie

Theaker looks at the books and finds them very disturbing. He believes that the source of the problems in Blackwater Creek are probably based in whatever is in the cave. Someone is trying to cover up the problem and the Roades' got in the way and were killed.

Theaker would pass that information on to George and Thomas. He would also add what the group as done and about to do and to tell McTavish the whole story.
Adds, "If you do not hear from us in two days, send help fast!"

George and Thomas can now see what is interesting in the books.

I'm not quite sure what James means by "add what the group as done and about to do and to tell McTavish the whole story" and whom he's addressing when he says "If you do not hear from us in two days, send help fast". Is that all in a letter to McTavish or is he leaving someone behind with these instructions?

In reply to Keeper of the Dark Woods (msg # 53):

Theaker shows George and Thomas the books and tells them about what they say.

Theaker realizes that Dr. Bliant and Frank have already gone to Arkham.
He writes the following note to McTavish.


To Ernest McTavish, Ph.D.

Dr. McTavish here is our current situation:

Something is causing physical problems in Blackwater Creek. Dr. Bliant can give a good description of the malady.  Water, critter and alcohol samples are being sent back.  The source of contamination may be a cave that Henry Roades may have dynamited.  He may have wanted to get to the source of the contamination. We will go there and see what is the source.

Additionally, the contamination may be affecting the towns population. There seems to be a new devotion to a "Great Mother" figure. That may be related to the book, "Indian Tribes of the Northeast by Ethan Chapman (1893)". The legends may have been remembered or known by someone and "started" the town's beliefs.

The Roades' are probably dead, due to bootleggers, moonshiners or religious zealots. The Roades' may have stumbled onto their "business" or someone wanting to keep the town's new religion secret or failed to convert the Roades'.

If they did away with the Roades', we are probably in danger also.

Respectfully, James Theaker

Theaker places the note in an envelope, addresses the letter to Ernest McTavish's home in Arkham and puts a stamp on the letter.

"George can you take it to Brewer and request that he drive it into Arkham and post it there? Here is some money to take care of that."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:52, Thu 09 July 2020.

In reply to James Theaker, Ph.D. (msg # 54):

Unfortunately, Frank and Dr. Bliant departed for Arkham before James got back from Dunwich. A letter could be mailed at Baxter's store in the village.

"I'd put another few dollars on there if you want him to go upon the moment, not the week," George remarks, not sure of the source of Theaker's restlessness.

"As for the cave...I guess that immortal n' immobile "council" would be some set of idols, sure. Not sure it'd mean anything to us 'less Henry brought them out or spoke of them about the district, though. I guess we'd be nearer the source to go up and look, though how close you'll get that car of yours I don't know."

Saturday, 4 September 1926, after Noon,  The Miskatonic Camp
"If everything seems under control, you're not going fast enough." Mario Andretti

Theaker digs a bit deeper and pulls out more folding money.  He states, "Go ahead and take what you need to get him moving today.  We are pressed for time.  The letter is addressed to his home, so have it delivered there."  Theaker thinks for a minute and then writes URGENT on the letter before handing it to George.

"When you get back we will head to the "source".  Christine, are you up for a walk and maybe some adventure?  Sounds like we will need to walk."

posted by the Keeper

"Hold on, Professor. Maybe we should go back to Arkham and tell the police what we've discovered. If this was too much for Professor Roades-- Well, I mean, isn't discretion the better part of valor?"

Saturday, 4 September 1926, after Noon,  The Miskatonic Camp
"The important thing is not to stop questioning.
Curiosity has its own reason for existence. One cannot help but be in awe when he contemplates the mysteries of eternity, of life, of the marvelous structure of reality. It is enough if one tries merely to comprehend a little of this mystery each day."
—"Old Man's Advice to Youth: 'Never Lose a Holy Curiosity.'" LIFE Magazine (2 May 1955) p. 64” Albert Einstein

Theaker takes a few moments and considers Thomsas' statement.  He then responds, "It is well to consider the dangers from the bootleggers.  But, in this case, I think some determination of what is going on here is necessary.  If anyone wants to stay behind, then do so.  I think armed,  George and I, maybe with Christine, will deter any hostilities.

Do you wish to drive back to Arkham with the letter?"

posted by Keeper

James considers for a moment before replying.

"No, Professor, I'm with you. I just thought we should consider it. I'm ready to go."

"That all said, remember," George says, heading off to do some considerable persuading of the local farmer, "-that the Roadeses were took off at night. Could be there won't be any idols to see up there, if the locals have gone'n removed 'em off to the church or some like." He gets along, Bee at heel.

George is soon back, having gotten Brewer's agreement (for just two dollars) to take the letter across to Dunwich in time for the postman to get it in his afternoon pickup.

The little group soon is outfitted for their exploration, carrying electric torches and a carbide lamp, a few lengths of stout rope, canteens of wholesome water, and a sandwich and an apple each.

As they set off eastwards on the logging road, Bee frisks about on the margins of the woods.

George'd given Theaker the remainder of his cash back, explaning that their host would post his missive but could not be prevailed upon to leave so long as to deliver by hand so late in the season, and not to worry on that too much as Mr. Smith would surely make some report by telephone. Bee had followed anyone and everyone fetching things out, and eventually gone and fetched a stick in an attempt to help.

Presently George was making his way in front, both to make sure they stayed on course for the rough location of the cave and in case Bee found anything worth shooting at. The birds still didn't sound quite right here.

Christine takes in her surroundings, pausing for a moment to light a cigarette, she offers the pack to the group, should anyone else care for one themselves. "I'm not sure I'm the only one, but does something here feel, I'm not sure how to say it... Amiss?" She asks to those present, taking a long draw on the cigarette.

[What firearms, if any are you taking on this hike? I assume George has his rifle, as usual.]

As the little group follows the logging road, George points out various flora and fauna to the city folk. They pass the derelict Roades camp which impresses on them their mission to find what happened to their friends and colleagues. The woods approach closer and closer to the track until there are trees close at hand on both sides. The woods on the south side of the old road seem somehow dark in the afternoon light, the shadows of the crowded trees morphing into wild and fanciful shapes although there's no breeze to speak of. It's easy to catch Christine's feeling of dread.

A half hour or so of walking brings them to where the track intersects the once-dry gully of the old creek. The water, dark and sluggish flows knee-deep across their path and they see where the road rises up on the far side.

[[He does. If Frank left the shotgun here that'd be available for anyone wanting it, too.

Is this the same spot George crossed at yesterday?]]

Having smoked sufficiently for a while after breakfast George had turned down Christine's offer, but agreed with a nod, at least, to her observation that the place felt 'off'.

Now he points out the damage to the creekside shrubs and foliage. "There'll be more'n plants getting sick off all that poisin," he states.

In reply to George Mogrey (msg # 66):

[Yes, same place where the old logging "road" crosses the creek-bed.]

"'Crost there you run into the Cartwrights' spread not ten minutes on...along the creek's likely the same, got the dam downstream right down there. Reckon we ought to head off about that way to skirt the edge of the place," he indicates, watching that Bee doesn't plunge over there in a fit of enthusiasm. "Catch up with the water a piece higher up, under the Jarveys' place. There's a crossing there if we need it."



[[edit: I have no sense of direction.]]
This message was last edited by the player at 16:28, Tue 14 July 2020.

In reply to George Mogrey (msg # 68):

Saturday, 4 September 1926, after Noon, Walking towards the "Source"
"I like long walks, especially when they are taken by people who annoy me." Noel Coward

Theaker seems to enjoy the walk, a few pesky mosquitoes bit nothing to spoil the walk.  He does not lag behind, but looks out along the path, a great September afternoon.

He answers George, "An excellent plan, why encourage problems when they can be avoided.  Christine, in case anything goes wrong, please stay as safe as you possibly can."

The ground begins to rise and get rockier as they head upstream. The Trees become more sparse and the undergrowth thicker, but keeping along the bank of the creek it is less tangled. Eventually, they reach the place where George says he and Frank were able to cross on the rocks emerging from the relatively fast-moving water. About a half mile ahead, rocky cliffs can be seen above the trees.

"Was about here I caught that first set of critters - the ones that vanished," George remarks, tramping upstream, then has a thought, looking back. "You still feeling good and hale, Theaker?"

Saturday, 4 September 1926, after Noon, Walking towards the "Source"
"He may look like an idiot and talk like an idiot but don't let that fool you. He really is an idiot." Groucho Marx

Theaker snickers at the comment and sarcastically replies, "I'm fine, but you are looking a bit pale. Do you need to stop and rest?"

OOC: Theaker has in his shoulder holster, the Colt M1911 - 'Old Betsy'. He also has his backpack with him.

The comment just gets a look of blank puzzlement from the old hunter, like Theaker's told him he's turning green with orange polka dots. Bee loops back to make sure no-one's been lost then bounds into the undergrowth again, keen to find new things to smell and dig at.

"Weren't talkin about the terrain," George clarifies. He gives a slight shrug and keeps moving on.

Christine nods. "I'll be fine James. I'm sure there's no need for alarm." She insists, hoisting an up and over shotgun, despite never had the need of using it in self defence. She smiles at him reassuringly.

Noting George's comment about the terrain, she shrugs and continues on herself, watching the ever contented Bee in the undergrowth. Things were so simple for dogs, it was enviable perhaps.

Closing this thread to continue in The Cave.