Earthen Rite's Alone Against the Flames IC

[zingbobco000]

For reference this is taken from Alone Against the Flames written by Mike Mason, Paul Fricker, and Gavin Inglis, thank you!

Do You Hear the Call of Cthulhu?
“The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far.”
—H. P. Lovecraft, The Call of Cthulhu

Welcome to Call of Cthulhu, a Horror/Investigative roleplaying game of mystery wherein you, an ordinary person, shall encounter and confront the terrifying alien forces of the Cthulhu mythos. Now, to begin is quite simple, and this first introduction shall operate similar to a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure story (this is done in order to help with an easy transition between the investigation-heavy Call of Cthulhu, and most other RPGs). Nevertheless, it is time to begin... welcome, to Alone Against the Flames.

----
Unknown New England Town, 2:44 PM, September 1st, 1921.

The sun is high in the sky, a merciless ball of heat. You feel scorched by the time you reach the bus halt in front of Osborn’s Drug Store. It’s a relief to put down your heavy cases and take off your hat for a moment. You fan your face. It has been a long summer here, in your hometown, and yet a curiously empty one.
You look across the street at the grubby butcher’s shop, the grocers with its faded awning, and the shabby tobacconist. Mistrustful faces glare at you as they pass, eyeing your clothes and luggage. It was your parents’ choice to live here, not yours. You were happy down south as a child, among Providence’s white-walled houses and leafy churchyards. Perhaps this new job in Arkham will supply the change you need.
Yet everybody you know in the world lives here. You know nobody in Arkham, not one soul. You ask yourself one last
time if you are doing the right thing.
The answer is here. None of your supposed friends have come to see you off. You are alone. Whatever challenges lie in Arkham, it will be a new life, and a brave one.
A small gray motor coach approaches and rattles to a stop. You put your hat back on and pick up your cases.

Two young men with sullen expressions alight from the coach. One looks you up and down before heading away. The driver also steps down, glancing at you before crossing the road to visit the tobacconist. When he returns, he is rolling a cigarette between his yellowed fingers. He gives it a final twist and examines you as he reaches for his matchbox. He is a thin man in his fifties, dressed in a stained shirt with the bus company emblem. Yet his eyes are sharp in their dark sockets.
“Where to?”
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You show him your ticket for Ossipee. From there you will connect to Rochester and Portsmouth, before the coastal line to Newburyport and, finally, Arkham. You should be able to afford a rail ticket for at least some of the way; otherwise this will be the first of many long bus trips.
“Mmm-hm.” The driver scratches the match and lights his cigarette. The end flares as he takes a draw. Then he exhales and gestures to the back of the coach. “Luggage rack’s up there.”

----
In Call of Cthulhu (somewhat like most other RPGs) there are eight characteristics Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, Appearance, Size, Power, Education, and Intelligence

Strength: This is a measure of the physical prowess of your investigator
Dexterity: This is a measure of the agility and speed of your investigator
Constitution: This is a measure of the physical toughness and stamina of your investigator
Appearance: This is a measure of the physical appeal of your investigator
Size: This is a combined measure of your investigator's height and weight, also used in determining their force behind their attacks and health
Power: This is a measure of your investigator's mental stability, force of will, or spirit
Intelligence: This is a measure of the logic and cunning of your investigator
Education: This is a measure of your investigator's tutelage, be it from formal education or the "school of hard knocks"

For the early image you have of your character, you have two options depending on where you feel you're at in terms of skill level. (1) You could simply rank these characteristics in whatever order you choose, or (2) you could actually take out a character sheet and apply an 80, 70, 60, 60, 50, 50, 50, and a 40 to them. No need for anything else than this right now. Also, yes, I understand that this is not really your standard introduction to an In-Character Thread, but let's roll with it!

[EarthenRite]

Hmmm...This is the first time I’ll have made a character this way. Kind of interesting! Alright...so I kind of envision a pretty standard Lovecraftian protagonist in my mind. I’m not sure quite what will distinguish them yet. But I think I have enough to prioritize those skills.

1. Intelligence
2. Education
3. Appearance
4. Power
5. Constitution
6. Dexterity
7. Size
8. Strength

[zingbobco000]

The driver smokes and watches as you drag your cases to the back of the motor coach. The rack is set inconveniently high on the vehicle. You get a grip on the heavier case.

The driver continues to enjoy his cigarette, watching with keen interest as you struggle with the cases. You grit your teeth and heave the second one into place. Perhaps the residents of Arkham will have better manners.

The driver flicks his cigarette into the gutter and steps into the motor coach. Its engine coughs into life. You board, grateful that you will be the only passenger for the initial part of your trip at least. With mixed emotions, you watch from the window as the tired avenues of your old home slip behind you, receding into the distance. For a few minutes, you can still see the church spire over the brow of a low hill. Then the road dips and it, too, is gone.
Arkham is your new home. You will travel there, and make a new start.
----

Note that you have a sanity score that is based on your power, throughout the game this sanity score will most likely fluctuate wildly. In addition, you have a number of Magic Points also based on said power. This will deplete and over time eventually return back to its original score. However, in all likelihood, magic points shall rarely be used by an investigator early on in their career, but it is important to note that they do exist.
----

The coach putters through the countryside. At first, the interior is stifling and your stomach lurches with every bend in the road. However, the driver opens his window, and by switching seats you find a spot where the breeze hits your face. You soon relax into the journey, observing the quaint little hamlets that the coach serves. A heavy-set woman boards at one settlement and gives you a polite nod. She gets off at the next one.
----

You have a certain amount of hit points based on both your Constitution and Size. Your current may change, but it is unlikely to ever exceed its maximum.
You also have something called a "Luck score." This is used to represent when circumstances external to your investigator are in question, and also when determining the fickle hand of fate. Please give me 3d6 to assist in generating your beginning luck.

[EarthenRite]

Let’s see if my character’s luck is better than my own...

[roll0]

[zingbobco000]

The road rises a little, passing cornfields and orchards. The leaves are turning and the trees are alive with glorious reds and golds. You have just begun to doze when the driver takes a tight bend at speed.
----

Please now give me a Dexterity roll. What this means is that you'll be rolling a d100 and comparing it to your Dexterity (50). For now, I hold your stats (mwahahahah), but eventually, I'll hand the character over to you once we finish the character!

[EarthenRite]

Dexterity Roll (50) - [roll0]

[zingbobco000]

You rolled above your dexterity, which means that you have failed your role.
----

A desperate yell shakes you out of your reverie of the beautiful view. You feel yourself slide from the seat as the driver spins the wheel and the motor-coach plunges off the road. Too late, you reach for the seat in front. You fall into the aisle and your ribs crash against the edge of the seat opposite. Breath rushes out of you. The coach stops with a thump.
Your driver leaps from his seat into the road. As you sprawl, dizzy, in the aisle, you hear a string of incendiary curses.
The driver climbs back into the cab and sees you on the floor. He looks concerned and assists you back into your seat. You see what has happened now. A Fordson tractor has stopped in the road and he had to swerve to avoid this steel obstacle.
“Sorry,” he says. “All them fields and he has to pick the road to park. You all right?”
You don’t think anything’s broken. But you’ll have a colorful bruise for the next few days. The throbbing pain itself should hopefully end with a good night's rest. The driver then backs the coach up a little and threads it around the tractor, glaring at the farmer.
----

You have sadly lost 1 hit point in this accident. Eventually you will heal back up to your maximum, but note that if you sustain a massive amount of hit-point loss, or if you fall to 0 hit points, you will fall unconscious or even die.
----

You resume your journey. The driver takes the curves with more caution than before. He glances over his shoulder at you a couple of times.
“Sorry about before,” he says. “That fella was dumber than a hog. I’m Silas. What’s your name?”

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The accident was at least as much Silas’s fault as the farmer’s. But it doesn’t seem shrewd to antagonize the man while he is driving you through the middle of nowhere.
----

Make up a name for your character I'll record it! You may add your age; for the purposes of this adventure your character should probably be aged between 23 and 36.

[EarthenRite]

“I don’t blame you at all, Silas. Are these roads always like this? My name is Victor”

I think Victor will be 35.

[zingbobco000]

Silas looks back for a moment towards Victor and says succinctly: "Normally, it's just me out on these roads."
The coach eventually turns onto a narrower road, which weaves uphill through woodland. Silas soon becomes chatty.
“Going to Arkham, eh Victor? Can’t say I ever heard of the place. Went to Boston once. Didn’t like it. Too much hustle and bustle. You got family there? A special someone waiting?”
The afternoon is wearing on. You see no harm in confiding in Silas about your new life.
“A job, eh? What’s your line?”

----
Also, just for my persnickety bookkeeping, what's Victor's last name? Anyway, once you do that, now it's time for your character to choose an occupation. Since you've played CoC before, I don't think I need to describe occupations for you, but here are some of the examples I have:

Antiquarian
Author
Dilettante
Doctor of Medicine
Journalist
Police Detective
Private Investigator
Professor
Something Else... (we can discuss)?

[EarthenRite]

I’ve actually been giving this one a fair bit of thought as we have been getting started. Victor Abernathy is an Antiquarian dealing in books mostly. He inherited the business from his parents who emigrated from the UK. He does have a small shop somewhere I think, but mostly deals by correspondence.

[zingbobco000]

You mention how you've been managing your bookstore from afar, and it seemed to be working fine without you, but part of you wanted to really return to being in the thick of things. Back to the smell of a bookshop, the way that each jingle of the doorbell indicates a new mind open for discussion, the way that children scamper the shelves and tuck themselves into a corner to read a new book, or the way that you slowly learn more about a community through the literature which is consumes.
Luckily, there was also an assistant’s position offered to you at Arkham Rare Books and Maps on the strength of a recommendation by a distant friend of the family. Among the Antiquarian community, Arkham is known for many things, but most importantly, its library. Working close to such a place, and thinking about the treasures that must pass through that shop as a result of the close proximity returns some of the excitement you felt upon receiving the letter of appointment. You feel a tingle in your palms; you cannot wait to get started.

“Books, eh?” Silas takes the conversation no further. You get the feeling he is not much of a reader.
----

Does that work? I tried to incorporate things that worked with your backstory while also providing you with a reason to go to Arkham. If it doesn't, feel free to change whatever you wish.

[EarthenRite]

I think that sounds excellent. A change is as good as a rest after all!

“Books, yes. Mostly. Although there are other opportunities that I come across occasionally. You would be surprised what ends up being collected by some people.”

[zingbobco000]

Silas does not really give a response (unless you count gruff noises as responses). You're utterly unsure of the most recent time when this driver of yours picked up a book for something other than a paperweight.
----

Your occupational skills are: Appraise, History, Library Use, and Spot Hidden. You also gain the following choices:
Which arts/crafts has Victor used in his time as an Antiquarian?
Acting
Barber
Calligrophy
Carpenter
Cook
Dancer
Fine Art
Forgery
Writer
Morris Dancer
Opera Singer
Painter and Decorator
Photographer
Potter
Sculptor
Vacuum Tube Blower
Something else?

Which non-English language has he picked up looking through old books?
Which conversational skill does he use most often selling his wares?
Charm - physical attraction, seduction, flattery, or simply warmth of personality.
Fast Talk - specifically limited to verbal trickery, deception, and misdirection, such as bamboozling a bouncer to let you inside a club, getting someone to sign a form they haven't read, making a policeman look the other way, and so on.
Intimidate - browbeating or making verbal threats to get your way.
Persuade - convince a person of a particular idea, concept, or belief through reasoned argument, debate, and discussion (although this does not necessarily have to employ the truth).
.

[EarthenRite]

I love the idea that Morris Dancing is on the list! That is hysterical. I think he has picked up Writer due to his primary form of sales being by post.

German seems like a good choice if it would be spoken language, but Latin would be a better choice if that was acceptable.

Charm would have been his primary sales patter. He has a warm, likable personality.

[zingbobco000]

You may now choose one skill from the following list that you would perceive to be related to Victor's career as an antiquarian (maybe related towards his specialty in literature?). I'll also provide a short sentence description or so for each.

Accounting - understanding of accountancy procedures; reveals the financial functioning of a business or a person.
Anthropology - identify and understand an individual's or culture's way of life through observation
Appraise (you have this one) - estimate the value of a particular item, including the quality, material used, and workmanship.
Archeology - allows dating and identifying artifacts from past cultures as well as detecting fakes
Arts/Crafts (you have this one) - allows the creation, making, or repair of an item which could be artistic (painting, singing, etc...) or craft-related (woodworking, cookery, etc...). Each one requires its own choice.
Charm (you have this one) - physical attraction, seduction, flattery, or simply warmth of personality.
Climb - climb trees, walls, and other vertical surfaces with or without ropes or climbing gear.
Disguise (you have this one) - used whenever you wish to appear to be someone other than whom you are.
Dodge - allows one to instinctively evade blows, thrown missiles, and so forth.
Drive Auto - drive a car or light truck, make ordinary maneuvers, and cope with ordinary vehicle problems.
Electrical Repair - repair or reconfigure electrical equipment, such as auto ignitions, electric motors, fuse boxes, and burglar alarms.
Fast Talk - specifically limited to verbal trickery, deception, and misdirection, such as bamboozling a bouncer to let you inside a club, getting someone to sign a form they haven't read, making a policeman look the other way, and so on.
Fighting - one's skill in melee combat. There are also different specializations such as Sword, Axe, Spear, or Whip, which each require their own choice.
Firearms - covers all manner of firearms, as well as bows and crossbows. There are different specializations including Handguns, Rifles/Shotguns, Bows, and Crossbows
First Aid - emergency medical care, not for diseases (see Medicine).
History (you have this one) - recall a historical detail or event, the significance of a country, city, region, or person, as pertinent.
Intimidate - browbeating or making verbal threats to get your way.
Other Language (you have this one) - Knowledge (ability to understand, speak, read, and write) of a language that's not your own. Each language is its own choice.
Own Language - Knowledge of your own language (presumably English)
Law - represents the chance of knowing pertinent law, precedent, legal maneuvers, or court procedure.
Library Use (you have this one) - Find a piece of information, such as a certain book, newspaper, reference in a library, or a collection of documents (assuming there's information to be found).
Listen - interpret and understand sound, including overheard conversations, mutters behind a closed door, and whispered words in a cafe.
Locksmith - open car doors, hotwire autos, jimmy library windows, figure out Chinese puzzle boxes, and penetrate ordinary alarm systems.
Mechanical Repair - repair a broken machine or create a new one.
Medicine - diagnose and treat accidents, injuries, diseases, poisonings, etc...
Natural World - represents the traditional (unscientific) knowledge and personal observation of farmers, fishermen, inspired amateurs, and hobbyists.
Navigate - take the correct path to a destination, whether in a strange city or the wilderness.
Occult - recognize occult paraphernalia, words, and concepts, as well as folk traditions; can also identify grimoires of magic and occult codes.
Operate Heavy Machinery - required to drive and operate a train, steam engine, bulldozer, or other large-scale land machines. Persuade - convince a person of a particular idea, concept, or belief through reasoned argument, debate, and discussion (although this does not necessarily have to employ the truth).
Pilot - allows the safe operation of a boat, aircraft, or dirigible. Each one is its own skill.
Psychoanalysis - refers to the range of emotional therapies.
Psychology - perception, common to all humans, to form an idea of another person's motives and character, and detect if a person is lying.
Ride - applies to saddle horses, donkeys, and mules, granting knowledge of basic care of the riding animal, riding gear, and how to handle the steed at a gallop or on difficult terrain.
Science - practical and theoretical ability with a science specialty gained from some degree of formalized education and training, although a well-read amateur scientist may also be a possibility. These specializations include: Astronomy, Biology, Botany, Chemistry, Cryptography, Geology, Pharmacy, Physics, Zoology, etc... Each one is its own skill.
Sleight of Hand - allows the visual covering-up, secreting, or masking of an object or objects, perhaps with debris, cloth, or other illusion-promoting materials.
Spot Hidden (you have this one) - find a secret door or compartment, notice a hidden intruder, see an inconspicuous clue, recognize a repainted automobile, become aware of ambushers, etc. - an important skill in the armory of an investigator.
Stealth - when attempting to avoid detection, moving quietly, and hiding without alerting those who might hear or see.
Survival - expertise required to survive in extreme conditions, such as in desert or arctic conditions, as well as on the sea or in wilderness terrain. Each environment is its own skill.
Swim - the ability to float and to move through water or other liquid in times of crisis or danger.
Throw - hit a target with an object.
Track - follow a person, vehicle, or animal over earth, and through plants.


Oh boy, that was long. I listed all of them for later reference, as well as to let you know that as long as it makes sense, any of these can be involved in your occupation. So, with all that out of the way, choose one!

[EarthenRite]

I like the idea that he has been enamoured of the wave of Egyptomania that has been around for a while now. Would you think anthropology or archaeology a better fit?

[zingbobco000]

I like the idea that he has been enamoured of the wave of Egyptomania that has been around for a while now. Would you think anthropology or archaeology a better fit?

Hmmm... interesting query. I'd almost actually say he might choose Other Language (Egyptian Hieroglyphics), especially if he's someone who enjoys books and reading.

[EarthenRite]

Hmmm... interesting query. I'd almost actually say he might choose Other Language (Egyptian Hieroglyphics), especially if he's someone who enjoys books and reading.

I like that and hadn’t even thought that way! I will take it.

[zingbobco000]

You soon realize Silas hasn’t made a stop since the incident with the tractor. The motor coach winds its way uphill. However, your thoughts are interrupted as the road crests a ridge and you are treated to a magnificent view of the vista below.
A creek snakes through the valley, breaking the rich autumn palette of the tree line. In the distance the White Mountains rise into hazy cloud. There is no settlement, not even a cabin, as far as the eye can see. Birds drift through the treetops, and you can just make out what might be two white-tailed deer lingering by the water.
Perhaps you are making a mistake by moving to the city. Could you maybe survive on your own in this lush wilderness?
----

I'm just going to note that just because a skill is not from your occupation or personal interest, you can always attempt it. That's not to say that you'll have a large chance of success but there is almost always a chance. Now, speaking of personal interest skills, please choose four more skills that you did not choose from your occupation that are your personal interests (i.e. this could be where archeology or anthropology [or both] go).

[EarthenRite]

It certainly is lovely country passing by. The conversation would be difficult if one did not have a passing interest in the finer things of life, and if not for the natural beauty slipping by, Victor would have found himself bored to tears.

Now that I have more choices, it was a pretty easy set to pick:

Appraise
History
Archaeology
Anthropology

[zingbobco000]

I believe you already have history, sorry if I didn't make it explicit but the four you choose cannot be any of the eight that are your occupational skills.

[EarthenRite]

Not your fault, just me not reading correcty. I think I’ll take what I imagine is hugely risky...throw some Occult my way!

[zingbobco000]

Ah god, now I'm noticing you have appraise too! It seems your eyes are not the only ones fooling their owners! :smalltongue:

[EarthenRite]

Psychology then sounds like a good choice

[zingbobco000]

Now that you've chosen your occupation and your personal interest skills, please rank your occupational skills just like you did with your characteristics - from best to worst. For reference, your occupational skills are: Appraise, History, Library Use, Spot Hidden, Art/Craft (Writing), Other Language (Latin), Charm, and Other Language (Egyptian Hieroglyphs)

[EarthenRite]

1. Charm
2. Library Use
3. Art/Craft Writing
4. History
5. Other language (Latin)
6. Other language (Egyptian Hieroglyphs)
7. Spot Hidden
8. Appraise

[zingbobco000]

The motor coach rattles on through the hills and Silas lapses into silence. The sky darkens behind you, pinks tinting the clouds as the sun descends. Finally, a welcome sight comes into view: a settlement on the crest of a hill. This doesn’t look like the pictures you’ve seen of Ossipee. But perhaps you can persuade Silas to stop while you stretch your legs.
Minutes later, a harsh stuttering from the engine interrupts your reverie. Silas frowns and rattles the gear stick. The motor coach falters in its ascent. Silas utters a curse you don’t recognize and grinds his teeth, struggling at the wheel. You seem to inch up the hill until you reach the first buildings, low dwellings constructed from a rough red stone. Silas wrestles the coach into a small bay off the road. He scrambles from his seat and makes for the engine compartment.
----

Now it is time to make our first skill check! However, I'm going to offer you the choice between two, but you could arguably think of doing something else and I'll rule what it would be for now. If you want to try both at the same time, you can try, but it would be much harder (inform me if you want to do this and I will detail what you would have to do). Do you think your character would go out and check on the car, if so, please give me a Drive Auto roll (a d100 which I will compare to your drive auto skill [you consider yourself an amateur in this field]), or does this all seem strangely convenient - breaking down right as you enter a village - and you'd like to guage Silas's reactions, if so, please give me a hard Psychology roll (a d100 which I will compare to half your Psychology skill [you consider yourself an amateur in this field]). Either way, roll a d100 and tell me which one you'd rather compare it to.

[EarthenRite]

Oh goodness...Victor certainly isn’t any sort of mechanic. With some family money he is used to others driving. I don’t think he would consider that a viable option. I think instead, once his personal and immediate safety is assured, he would watch Silas. I will take the hard roll.

[roll0]

[zingbobco000]

In all honesty, the way he's moving, his intonation, and everything is rather different from those who you've met before. Not incredibly different, but compared to the bookworms you're used to dealing with, this driver is almost impossible to actually get a read on. Either way, coincidences happen, and to be honest, it's lucky you ended up next to a town instead of miles away from one.

Silas opens the engine compartment open and sticks his head inside. The hot metal pops and sizzles. He pokes at various components, then withdraws and wipes his brow, smearing it with dark grease.
“I ain’t sure what’s wrong. Might be the oil pressure. Might be something knocked off kilter when we took that spill. Can’t do much until the engine cools neither. And with the light failing… I reckon we’ll be here through the night.” He wipes his hands on a rag.
The shadows from your surroundings are already long, and the air is chilly. You feel stiff from the journey and a night in the rickety coach sounds unappealing. Silas sees your dismay.
“This here’s Emberhead. Miles from anyplace. I only come through twice a week. But the folks here are good people. May Ledbetter keeps a spare room. She’ll look after you. Up that alley, turn right, first house on the left.”
He scratches his cheek, looks again into the engine compartment, and spits on the ground.
“Meet me back here at eight in the morning and we’ll see how’s we stand.”
----

Now we're entering the more freeform part of the adventure. Nevertheless, given that this is still an introductory scenario. If you wish, I'd be happy to provide some "tutorial" advice below each post, just let me know if you'd like for me to do that, but otherwise, since you've played Call of Cthulhu before, I'll assume you can operate on your lonesome.

[EarthenRite]

Before I start to explore, I will ask if Silas is planning to stay in the coach through the night or if he is getting a room as well.

[zingbobco000]

You ask about Silas’ plans. He gives the engine a sour glance before answering.
“I’ve got acquaintances here in the village. Reckon one of ‘em owes me a favor. Enough for bed and breakfast, in any case.” He stares at his grubby hands. “Probably won’t stretch to a hot bath.”
You don’t seem to have a lot of options. You fetch your cases from the back of the motor coach. The last thing you need is for all your worldly possessions to disappear into some stranger’s hovel overnight.

[EarthenRite]

Victor will smile winningly and suggest, strongly, that Silas let him know where he’s staying in case he needs to leave earlier, and lets him know that he will take his suggestion and stay with the lady Ledbetter. Upon gathering his things he starts off to find the place.

Victor isn’t a suspicious sort, but he is not incautious. Before he goes to the establishment recommended, he is going to find (in order of preference) a payphone, a public business with phone wiring, or a house with phone wiring and place a call to one of his friends letting them know about the delay, where he is, and that he will ring again once he has arrived safely.

Then he will try to secure lodgings.

[zingbobco000]

Emberhead, 7:48 PM, September 1st, 1921

Victor looks around, peering up towards the sky for wires that could indicate some form of telecommunications, finding... nothing. Well, almost nothing. There's a single wire that leads to a large building with boarded-up windows and shutters, along with a locked door. You would presume that this is the office for whomever the leader of this town is. Victor searches for anything else, but it seems that this small little village perched on the top of a cliff is almost completely isolated from the rest of the world. In addition, nobody seems about, although given the small nature of the town you would expect that businesses would close around three or four, and given the time... well, it's not too surprising that you feel like you're in a ghost town.
----

Is there anything else that you would like to do? It seems that any method of contacting your friends is... well... rather hard to achieve. Or are you just going to head towards May Ledbetter's home?

[EarthenRite]

Hmmm...I think then I will do my plan except change it to a quick letter in the mailbox, provided that looks relatively “secure”. I imagine him to be the type that carries some spare stationery and stamps! At least so someone knows where to look if he doesn’t ever show up again.

If that is impossible...then yes straight to secure a room. After that maybe a bar or somewhere to get dinner?

[zingbobco000]

Hmmm...I think then I will do my plan except change it to a quick letter in the mailbox, provided that looks relatively “secure”. I imagine him to be the type that carries some spare stationery and stamps! At least so someone knows where to look if he doesn’t ever show up again.

If that is impossible...then yes straight to secure a room. After that maybe a bar or somewhere to get dinner?

Quickly pulling out some stationary and stamps Victor writes a short memo to his friends back in Unknown New England town. Although, he can't help but recall how none of them showed up when he headed out... was that really just this morning? It feels like it has been days... He soon inserts, licks, stamps, and sticks the letter inside of someone's mailbox. Hopefully the mail is delivered semi-regularly, after all, in this day and age, a town without telecommunications, or even a payphone? In New England? Victor cannot help but be somewhat surprised, although maybe that's just his previous life's cushiony nature showing.

You drag your cases between the sullen buildings. You feel surprisingly weary, considering you have spent all day sitting down, and dragging your luggage trying to find a telephone? It shouldn't have been as hard as it was, but your tired arms vehemently disagree. Silas’ directions lead you to a modest dwelling with a slate roof. A nameplate reads LEDBETTER, and underneath, a sign in neat copperplate reads, LODGING ROOM. The lane around you is gloomy, but a lamp flickers in the window.
A breeze chills your face. You’re not about to begin your new life by sleeping in the street. You rap on the weatherbeaten door.

After a moment, you hear footsteps inside the house. A bolt is drawn back and the wooden door swings open. A figure with loose curls and a rough-looking housedress peers at you. Her gaze takes in your traveling suit and your cases. Her voice has a slight Irish lilt.
“Hello. Should I take it as you’re looking for a room for the night?”
You enquire as to her rates, suppressing a grimace. As far as you’ve seen, the village does not offer you many alternatives.
“Oh, you’ll find them very reasonable,” she says. “You look tired. I’m May. Come inside and we’ll talk over a cup of tea.”
The Ledbetter house feels cramped, with a low ceiling and simple fittings. But it is well kept and a cheerful fire crackles in the grate. The aroma of the tea is soothing and the cup warms your fingers.
“Have you come to Emberhead for the festival?” asks May.

[EarthenRite]

Victor will be very personable, but make sure he communicates that he didn’t know about any festival, but seek more information

[zingbobco000]

“Well now, I suppose the Festival is about the only reason folks come to Emberhead. I thought you had maybe come to study it or take photographs. Well, it’s not tomorrow night but the night after. I suppose it looks very strange to a passerby.”
May tops up your tea. The spout chinks against your cup.
“We’ve got the Beacon, you see. One night every year there’s a torch-lit procession and we light the Beacon on the cliffs. You’ve never seen the like of it. They say it keeps the spirit of the village alive for another year. It’s a celebration. A celebration...”
She tails off for a moment, and blinks.
“But you didn’t come here to listen to me blather, and you must be hungry. I can rustle you up a bit of stew. How would that be?”
You ask again about her rates, and May names a price so low you accept it without hesitation.

[EarthenRite]

Hmm well, I suppose now is as good a time as any to collect my thoughts. Victor starts to think, while she goes to get the food, about whether or not he has heard anything at all about the festival or the Beacon.

[zingbobco000]

Please give me either a History roll (you consider yourself a professional in this field) or an Anthropology roll (you consider yourself an amateur in this field).
----

Emberhead, 8:33 PM, September 1st, 1921

While you wonder to yourself, May busies herself in the kitchen while you go and load your things into your room. It's small, but it'll certainly do, and the stew May eventually serves you is dark and hearty. After dinner, you have a couple of hours before your usual bedtime, so what would you like to do?

[EarthenRite]

Alright, first order of business is that History check - my forte, out of the two.

[roll0]

And then I intend to leave the fine boardinghouse for a time and find somewhere people seem to be gathered - a bar, or something like that. A place to sit and listen and see if I can pick up other things.

[zingbobco000]

You've succeeded in the roll, which means that at a later point you may have the opportunity to improve that skill!
----

Victor recalls reading a book about New-England tribal festivals, and although he cannot really recall too much relating to whatever the beacon is, the Native American tribe in this area, "The People of the Dawnlands," he recalls, allegedly may have performed some sort of sun rituals, but the book never gave any explicit proof as to whether or not these rituals ever really occured.

May’s brow creases when you announce your intention to take a stroll. “Mind how you go,” she says. “Emberhead’s surrounded by cliffs and we don’t have your fancy street lamps here. Take the lantern and watch your step.”
Outside, you see what she means. The sky is overcast and only a few glimmers of moonlight peek from the clouds. Without the heavy lantern you would be walking in near-total darkness. Even with the lantern you cannot hope to get an overview of the village tonight, people are most certainly not gathering anywhere in town. In fact, you barely see any kind of restaurant whatsoever.
May’s street is a narrow passage hemmed in by squat, dark dwellings. At the end, however, it opens up. A wide thoroughfare leads off to your right. A crude sign names it Silbury Street. To the left, a few yards away, your light picks out the crooked posts of a simple fence, and beyond that, the ground drops away into darkness. You take a couple of steps closer, but you can see nothing. Air from below cools your face. Then some instinct makes you look around.

An ink-black figure stands in the road, about twenty yards behind you. It stares at you. You form the sudden impression that it will run at you and throw you over the cliff edge. This is... unsettling.
However, seeing it has been spotted, the figure instead slips down an alley.

[EarthenRite]

After that scare, I think Victor would reverse his course and shine a light down the alley the thing ran down, if only to make sure he was safe. Then, he would look at the ground to see if anything was left from his possible assailant. Finally he would return to his room. He wouldn’t feel safer until there was a locked door, if he felt in danger of being killed.

[zingbobco000]

Please give me a Track (you are a Neophyte in this field) roll.

[EarthenRite]

Tracking - [roll0]

[zingbobco000]

The figure moves fast, with almost silent steps. You are hampered with a heavy lantern in an unfamiliar environment. You emerge from the alley into a dusty courtyard, and can detect no sign of your quarry. You scratch around for a few minutes, but the figure has gone.
It seems unwise to continue your stroll through unknown, dark streets while this threatening presence is abroad. You head back to the Ledbetter house. May lets you in and settles back in her chair. Soon she begins to yawn. “I believe I’ll turn in. When would you like your breakfast?”

[EarthenRite]

Victor tells her 7, if that is amenable. He doesn’t want to be too early, but he knows he needs to check in with Silas around 8 for the car to continue on.

“Speaking of Silas, were there any messages left as to where he might be staying tonight?”

Victor is very complimentary about May’s generosity.

[zingbobco000]

May shakes her head and stands, giving out a wide yawn as she does. "No he didn't leave me anything of the sort, although I suppose he'd be staying with Troy, a... friend of his in the village. Well, they're more like an old married couple."

As May stands, you hear a clunk behind you. You look over your shoulder, but all you can see is a wooden door, securely closed.
May tuts. “The young lady of the house. She’ll have been listening to us. Ruth! Come and greet our guest.”
There is a short pause, then the door creaks open. Two wide eyes peer at you from the gap, between tousled hair and a rough nightgown.
“What do you say?”
The eyes blink. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Now get back to bed.”
The door closes again.
“My daughter Ruth. Ten years this summer. She’s a delight and a torment all in one. Don’t worry, she sleeps in with me. She’ll not disturb you. Good night now.”
You retire to your room. It is a little chilly, but you are too tired to worry about lighting the fire. The sheets are clean and the bed soon warms up. The silence outside is strange after living in a town for so long, but you soon drop off.

You dream of fire in the grate; coruscating colors shimmering through the dancing tongues of flame. At first they are tiny, almost microscopic, but they grow, and grow, until a kaleidoscopic inferno spills from the fireplace, spreading across the floor, up the sheets…
You wake with a start. Daylight glints through the curtains. You get up and examine the grate, blinking the sleep from your eyes. It is quite cold.
----

If you have taken any damage, you may heal 1 hit point back for your night’s sleep.
----

May seems to have no running water, but has supplied some in a ceramic jug. You freshen up at the washstand and go in. She cooks a hearty breakfast and leaves you in peace to eat. At about seven-thirty, you are paid up, packed, and ready to go. You bid May goodbye and she wishes you the best for your new career in Arkham.

You are already tired of your heavy bags. Hopefully, Silas has repaired the motor coach and you can resume your long journey. A sourpuss he might be, but the old driver seemed to understand his vehicle well enough. You pause to check your watch—still twenty minutes early—and round the final corner.
The motor coach is gone.
You put your bags down and search the area, trekking up and down slopes and around corners. At the edge of the village, you trace the long road back as it winds across the hills. Eight o’clock comes and goes. There is no coach to be seen.
A passing villager notices your bags.
“Looking for the bus? I heard him take off at first light. He’s due back in three or four days. If you need a place to stay, May Ledbetter rents a room.” The man raises his hat to you and strolls on into the village.
You curse Silas under your breath. Perhaps he went for parts. But you wonder if the old goat has stranded you here on purpose.

May is doing laundry, and looks surprised to see you again. “Forgot something?” When you explain the situation, she offers to store your bags while you try to arrange alternative transport. You are grateful to relinquish the load.
“Nobody here has anything like a car.” She strokes her chin and narrows her eyes. “Maybe you could find somebody with a horse and a cart for your bags. I could ask around later. Try Mr. Winters at the village hall, he’ll know if anyone will. Or ask among the artisans. Their workshops are first left on Silbury Street.” She reaches over and squeezes your wrist. “Don’t worry, I won’t see you sleeping in the street, money or no money.”
You thank May, and turn to face the village.

You wander the streets of Emberhead without any particular destination in mind. The village is built on a relatively flat upland with splendid views. To the north, the hazy tips of the White Mountains reach for the heavens; to the south, the sparkling waters of Lake Winnipesaukee touch the horizon.
The village itself takes less than five minutes to cross from edge to edge. However, it is literally edge to edge, as with the exception of the two roads out of town, all that's there is a massive drop-off. You arrived on the winding road to the west. The only other road leaves to the south, following a lower ridge of land as it turns east. In the northernmost part of town, you see the courtyard mentioned by May home to several artisans. Next to that is the town's largest building (which isn't saying too much) - presumably the village hall. Meanwhile, in the southwest of the village, an open grassy space borders a ruined church, its graveyard cresting the cliffs. To the northeast, the three main thoroughfares, with a general store being one of the only real businesses open, meet at a raised black metal structure. It looms, stark against the blue sky.

https://s3.amazonaws.com/files.d20.io/images/89719975/HaOSBF1K2QsfOompXQJAJw/med.png?1566314827
----

Oh boy, that was long, I hope you got all of that.

[EarthenRite]

The two biggest things on Victor’s mind would be first questioning more about the daughter and what was going on with her. He doesn’t believe there’s a danger from her so he wouldn’t go on that angle, but rather wondering if she’s alright, etc.

Second, Mr Winters seems an excellent person to speak to. Now, with Silas having dumped him here, he is a little more suspicious. He will try to figure out why he was left there.

As a third idea, if he can, he also wants to check out Toby, the person who Silas likely stayed with.

[zingbobco000]

After wandering the village for a while and noticing all of the interesting structures and locales, you double back to search for Ruth. However, as you enter the Ledbetter household you find it mysteriously empty. Presumably May has taken Ruth out along with her to go and help her in some fashion, but either way, you have the whole day ahead of you to explore and find some way out of town.

Emberhead, 8:39 AM, September 2nd, 1921

The village hall backs against a cliff at the east end of Silbury Street. It’s the largest building you’ve seen so far in Emberhead. It is, however, locked and shuttered. You walk around it, peering through gaps in the shutters. There seems to be one large room, presumably for community meetings, and a smaller annex that serves as an office and archive. One of the windows is bricked up. Back at the main door, you can see no posted opening hours.
“Mr. Winters doesn’t open up mornings, this time of year,” says a gray-garbed woman passing by. “Best come back this afternoon.”
You ask whether the office has a telegraph. “Don’t know.” She shrugs. “Who would we call?”
You will have to try again later.

Feeling somewhat defeated you ask around for locations to Troy's house, finding it to be a rather small shack as opposed to a real building. You are immediately glad you did not stay with Silas in this... structure (if it can be called that), but as you knock on the door, there is no response. You pause for a couple moments and knock again, still no response. Surely if Troy were inside he would be able to hear you, why, the farthest reaches of his home are barely twenty feet away!
As you're about to knock on the door once more an older gentleman happens to walk on by and notice your predicament. He coughs politely to announce his presence and then smiles. "Oh, you're looking for Troy? He won't be in until around nightfall. He works out in the lower lands, and he doesn't take to kindly to out-of-towners, so I'd watch yourself around him." The man then strides off, continuing to smile, happy that he happened to help someone this morning.
----

Would you like to continue to explore? To repeat some places of interest that I listed were: The lower ridge of land that heads eastward, the artisan's courtyard, the church, the general store, and the raised black metal structure.

I also now realize upon posting that the people whom you visited happened to all be absent, that is sadly a very weird coincidence, I apologize.

[EarthenRite]

Hmm the black metal object first, since I don’t need anyone to be there to do that.

Then, Victor will go to the artisan’s area and do some exploring.

[zingbobco000]

You walk up The Approach, the most central of the village’s major streets. It points directly at the odd metal structure. As you emerge from the shade of the nearby buildings, you are greeted by a magnificent panorama spread from the north to the southeast. The last colors of fall tint the hills in a sleepy gold.
The structure, by contrast, is made from uncompromising iron, singed black. It supports an immense curved platform at the level of your head. Further struts snake up to a central point. It looks like they may have been some kind of sculpture at one time, but are now twisted and melted beyond recognition.
An older gentleman passes, looking up at you with rheumy eyes. “Are you here for the Festival?” he asks. “That’s the Beacon. When they light it, night after next, you’ll be able to see it ten miles away.” He gives a little nod of satisfaction, then moves on, leaning on his walking stick.
Now you notice bundles of wood, tied and stacked against the buildings nearby. Perhaps this Festival would be an interesting diversion. But you really must head to Arkham as soon as possible.
----

As you begin to look this structure over, please give me a Spot Hidden roll (you consider yourself an amateur).

[EarthenRite]

Alright, let’s hope for something good here...

[roll0]

Woohoo! I have to notice something here!

[zingbobco000]

As you walk away from the iron structure, you notice something strange about the construction of the village. All the wooden dwellings are concentrated in the west and southwest. To the east and northeast, closest to the Beacon, the buildings are formed from dark brick and clay. Does this mean the settlement began at the Beacon, and spread west?
----

You have succeeded in another skill roll! Nice! As you may know, this means you'll be able to advance it after the adventure!
----

Emberhead, 9:43 AM, September 2nd, 1921

You are beginning to recognize several general locations in Emberhead. Would you like to explore some more?
----

So just to confirm, you're heading to the Artisan's Courtyard next?

[EarthenRite]

Absolutely. They are my next stop.

[zingbobco000]

Not far from the Ledbetter house, on the north side of Silbury Street, there is an open courtyard. The rhythmic tattoo of a hammer seems to announce your approach.
The courtyard is the busiest location you have yet seen in Emberhead. It is bordered by a ring of workshops. Some are brick buildings, some only rough huts. A blacksmith ceases to hammer, thrusting something red and glowing into a bucket of cold water. A weaver looks up from his loom, blinking at you for a moment before returning to his shuttle. A potter, engraver, and carpenter each work in their own space, exchanging friendly banter.
You move among the artisans, chatting about their work. Eventually you bring up the question of export. Some of them send occasional packages with Silas. Some restrict their custom entirely to villagers. You receive no suggestions about alternative transport.
----

As you're walking amongst these people, please give me a Psychology roll (you consider yourself a professional) to get the general feel of the populous.

[EarthenRite]

A psychology roll sounds grand

[roll0]

[zingbobco000]

One of the workshops is shut up. When you stray close to it, the repartee between the craftspeople becomes awkward—almost forced. Interesting.
----

You have succeeded in a Psychology roll, which means you may have the opportunity to improve on it later!
----

Emberhead, 11:15 AM, September 2nd, 1921.

You're feeling somewhat comfortable on the main thoroughfares of Emberhead. Would you like to explore some more?
----

To repeat some places of interest that I listed were: The lower ridge of land that heads eastward, the church, and the general store.

[EarthenRite]

Church is next. I’m glad to be getting the lay of the land like this before possibly doubling back.

[zingbobco000]

You cross the street towards the church. As you glance to your left, your gaze alights on the large metal structure. Something bothers you about its positioning. You back up and look again. Yes! Emberhead’s central thoroughfare points directly at the structure. This seems too precise to be a coincidence.
You press on and draw into the shadow of the church. The building is in a sorry state. The top of the steeple is missing, a ragged gash of splintered boards marking its absence, and the floors beneath it have collapsed. It appears to have torn through the roof of the main building as it fell. Only the back half is still intact. The white paint, which once covered the church, has yellowed and peeled.
It seems safe enough to explore the rear section. Old pews are stacked against the wall, choked with mildew. Most of the windows are broken. You guess this church has been disused for about twenty years. There is little more to interest you.
----

Please give me a Ride roll (you consider yourself a beginner in this field) to see if you notice anything related to that particular field.

[EarthenRite]

Ride - [roll0]

[zingbobco000]

Ride - [roll0]

I'm terribly sorry, but I just realized you have a bonus die (I don't think I need to explain this to you) because of your background. You may roll another d10.

[EarthenRite]

I'm terribly sorry, but I just realized you have a bonus die (I don't think I need to explain this to you) because of your background. You may roll another d10.

Actually I do need an explanation of that part. I never played with a bonus die before.

[zingbobco000]

A bonus die is basically another d10 that you roll that you can use instead of the tens place you rolled in your original d100 roll. So if you roll 58 and a 2, your die roll becomes 28!

[EarthenRite]

[roll0] here we go!

[zingbobco000]

To be honest with you, all that's here in this church is dust, detritus, and mold. You quickly step outside of its rotting "walls" and return to town.

Emberhead, 12:15 PM, September 2nd, 1921

Your morning exertions have left you hungry. You roam the streets of Emberhead looking for sustenance. There is nothing resembling the busy cafés of your hometown, or anything that might be called a restaurant.
It is beginning to look like you will have to get supplies from the general store when May Ledbetter comes down the street with a girl trailing in her wake. This must be Ruth. As she notices you, she races past her mother and approaches you with a smile. This is a different Ruth from the shy creature of last night.
As she reaches you, she stops and stretches her arms up in celebration. She looks up into your eyes. Abruptly the smile drops from her face and she looks several years older.
“Get out before the festival,” she hisses. “Get out!” She
blinks hard, then scuttles back towards her mother.
May approaches, wrapping an arm around her daughter’s shoulders. She smiles. “How are you getting on? Have you found transport?”
Startled, you explain the frustrations of the situation.
“I’d try Mr. Winters in the village hall. He’s always in of an afternoon. You’ll be hungry by now? Help yourself to any food in the house. The door’s not locked.”
You glance at Ruth where she has squirreled herself behind her mother’s leg. Her eyes implore you to silence.

[EarthenRite]

Victor would contain his shock and surprise at Ruth’s sudden outburst, choosing to keep her confidence in this.

“Ah, yes...just doing some exploring, getting my bearings, since it seems I’ll be here for a time. Tell me, what workshop is the one that is all closed up? I pray the craftsperson is well? Mr. Winters is my next stop.”

[zingbobco000]

May shrugs, "I'm unsure, sorry. Maybe they use it to store their tools? Your guess is as good as mine, dearie. Anyway, I'm sure that Mr. Winters will know exactly what to do, good luck!" She then promptly takes Ruth and walks off in the opposite direction.

You take your leave of the Ledbetters and head towards their house. The door opens easily. In the low kitchen you make a meal from stodgy bread and leftover stew. A little window offers a view to the mountains.
If you learned one thing this morning, it was that Emberhead’s streets hold little to occupy the visitor from out of town. But there are still about five hours of daylight remaining. You could take some provisions and the bare essentials from your luggage, and set out in the hope of reaching another settlement before dark. Or you could ask advice from this Mr. Winters.
----

I presume that you'll be heading to the village hall?

[EarthenRite]

Correct - that’s where I’ll be heading.

[zingbobco000]

The village hall overlooks the lower north ridge of the village. You walk along Silbury Street to find it, conscious of the oppressive black metal structure framed at the end of the road. The shutters of the hall are open and some windows left ajar. There is no knocker, but a little bell over the entrance tinkles as you push the front door.
Inside, a sturdy door to your right is marked PRIVATE. To your left, an opening leads through to a bright room. You take a few steps inside. Benches line the walls and there are two noticeboards mounted between the windows.

[EarthenRite]

At this point, absolutely trying to get into the room marked private.

[zingbobco000]

You raise your hand to knock on the door, but it opens before you can complete the movement. The middle-aged gentleman behind it takes an involuntary step back, adjusting his spectacles. You hasten to apologize and introduce yourself. He steadies himself and peers at you.
“I see. I’m Clyde Winters. Just visiting, you say? And you’ve come to see me? Hmm! Care for some coffee? I usually take a cup around this time of the afternoon.”
His invitation seems genuine enough and a good opportunity to ask any questions that are on your mind.

You step through the door marked PRIVATE. The other side of the village hall is in marked contrast to the public space. The room is compact, lined with shelves of books and file alcoves (surprisingly some of the first books you've seen). One corner is reserved for a tiny pantry and what is presumably a water closet.
You study Mr. Winters as he fills the percolator. Although thin on top, his hair is oiled and neatly swept back. His suit is a sober affair, and well-tailored even if the cut is a little old-fashioned. A lesser man working alone might have loosened his bow tie for comfort.
On the desk against the opposite wall, you notice what looks like a telegraph set.

[EarthenRite]

Splendid! On many accounts. First, I’m going to scan the book titles on his shelf and see if anything is of interest, while he’s brewing the coffee.

And I will then ask about the telegraph. Those are the first two priorities.

[zingbobco000]

The pot begins to gurgle as you exchange pleasantries with Winters while looking over his bookcase.
“Living here is a trade-off, like so much in life.” He looks past you at a high shelf. “I could wish for access to a proper library, of course. But I know myself well enough. I’m strictly a dabbler. And the cities...” His face wrinkles in distaste. “Too many people. Everybody rushing and shouting. We have a special place here in Emberhead. And someone must accept responsibility for keeping it so. That was my father before me. And now the duty falls to me.” He lifts his chin and straightens up.
“This evening, as the sun sets, look out at the landscape around the village. We have peace up here, halfway to the stars. Are we not privileged? Is this not worth the hardships we must accept?”
He looks at you speculatively.

You then make a small but flattering remark about a couple of the volumes on his shelves. Winters blushes with pleasure.
“Well, of course they’re not my personal collection. They belong to the village,” he says. “But I did select most of the recent items. This is the community’s library, you see. I put up the PRIVATE sign to stop people just wandering in from meetings in the other room. But this is really a public space.”
You continue to scan the shelves. There is a sparse but respectable collection on mathematics and the sciences, passable sections on history and arts, and a shelf of literature. He has a few lowbrow novels tucked away in a corner, with tatty copies of Bizarre Tales magazine.
“Quality does not always equate to popularity, I’m afraid.” Winters gives you an apologetic smile. Now seems like a good time to ask about the telegraph.

“The telegraph? Mmm. Much as we value our isolation, we do need the link sometimes… you were hoping to send a message? I must apologize. The line has been down for two weeks. I reported the fault, but of course, they’re not so speedy when the problem lies in a rural area. I’m expecting a repair the day after next. I do appreciate how frustrating this must be. The coach is due, in what, three days? But I think he’s going west. Perhaps you might engage a wagon? One of the farmers might...”
You explain that you have asked a few of the residents already, but to no avail.
“I tell you what.” Winters pours you a steaming cup of coffee. The dark liquid smells rich and strong. “When the repair crew arrive I’ll ask them to take you back with them. How would that be? They might want a dollar or two to grease the wheels...”
The day after tomorrow? It’s less than ideal. But it’s the first real opportunity you’ve had.

[zingbobco000]

Would you like to maybe ask if you could use his library or would you rather just head out for the day?

[EarthenRite]

(sorry, I was just having a rough end to the work week. I’ll be posting more to this post a little later)

Victor would agree to his offer of riding back, and then he would ask to spend some time perusing the library since it is the first real one he has indeed seen here. He will comb through the books perhaps even making some cursory notes about editions.

However, if Winters is ever lulled into a sense of security enough to leave him alone, he will *immediately* start to look for information about the festival. Anything he can find.

Also, does Victor feel as though he can trust...well, honestly anyone but particularly right now Winters?

[zingbobco000]

In terms of Victor's mental state, things have most certainly been weird in the village. Everyone seems to be suspicious in one way or another, whether it's May and Ruth with Ruth's strange comments, or even Mr. Winters with all of his talk of responsibility, privilege, and peace.
----

Winters is happy for you to spend the rest of the afternoon in study and offers you an upright but comfortable chair while he works at his desk. You have enough time to pursue one line of research in depth.
----

There seem to be books concerning the history of the area, but you might be able to skim through those and form some idea about the festival, although this might require Mr. Winters' assistance, you could also read something concerning his science and mathematics section, or maybe you want to read some of the weird fiction?

Also, don't worry about this at all, it's just a game. I might PM people every now and then if you were to dissapear off the face of the earth (which I didn't do), but let me know when you're good. I'll generally be here.

[EarthenRite]

If I can skim all but focus in one (if i read that correctly) then his books of history of the area will be what I go in depth into.

[zingbobco000]

There is no single book on the history of the area, and you have to put together a picture from a variety of slim, specialized volumes.
There seems some suggestion that the hill upon which Emberhead is built was a place of reverence for the Abnaki, or Abenaki, a native tribe whose name means “people of the dawnlands.” The tribe made an annual journey to the hill “as the leaves turned the deepest hue of sunset.” There are some references to sun rituals performed in the area but these are not convincingly attributed.
The region was caught up in King George’s War, and in 1746 British colonial forces counterattacked in response to a raid by the Wabanaki Confederacy, which included the Abenaki. The King’s men gave no quarter and the few survivors among the natives were driven from the area permanently.
There seems no confirmed date when Emberhead itself was founded, although there are accounts of settlers on the hill from shortly after the end of the Revolutionary War.

The afternoon wears on. You have not quite finished your reading when Winters glances out of the window and stands up. He clears his throat.
----

Please give me a Credit Rating roll to see if Mr. Winters deems you suitable enough to leave in charge of the library.

[EarthenRite]

Credit Rating - I presume it’s a d100?

[roll0]

[zingbobco000]

Indeed it is!
----

“I’m afraid I have some errands to run before dark. So I must close the library for today. I do hope you will return tomorrow afternoon if you are so inclined?”
You leave the building with Winters, waiting as he locks up. You thank him for the coffee and the access to the library. He disappears off down an alley. You hope to be away from the village before tomorrow afternoon, but it’s good to know that there is a place you can occupy yourself.

Emberhead, 7:27 PM, September 2nd, 1921

As the light fades, you return to the Ledbetter house and eat a light supper. May is unusually taciturn. Ruth’s eyes flick to yours several times during the meal. There is an urgency there you cannot quite interpret. Afterwards, May ushers the girl into their room.
You have been in Emberhead for barely one whole day and you already feel confined by it, both geographically and socially. The evening seems to offer little, although Ruth's response still bugs you. Alternatively, Mr. Winters did recommend looking to the stars, so it could be a good night for stargazing.

[EarthenRite]

Well then stargazing it is! Plus, I might be able to see anyone creeping around me again. I do make sure to set up my stargazing vantage near where I perceive Ruth’s room to be but on the outside in case she attempts to make contact again.

[zingbobco000]

You stroll the streets of Emberhead. Already it feels like you know every corner, every doorstep. There are simply not that many of them. When you emerge into an open space, the starfield above you is arresting. The streetlights of your hometown always interfered with the view, even on a clear night. But here, in this lofty blackness, a multitude of tiny diamonds shimmer between the more familiar stars.
The spectacle occupies you for a few minutes. Upon returning your gaze to earth, you notice a dark figure pressed behind a house. A loose stone skitters behind you. A second figure stares from an alleyway.

[EarthenRite]

Summoning his courage, Victor will call out but not yell.

“I know you are there. Why are you following me? Who are you?”

[zingbobco000]

You advance on one of the figures, calling out. It slips into the shadows. By the time you round the corner, it is nowhere to be seen. You turn to the other figure, feeling a simmering anger. As you approach, it also melts away. But behind you, in a dim yard, the first figure has reappeared.
You could do this all night. The watchers know the village far better than you do. Perhaps it is enough to have shown them you will not be cowed. Frustrated, you head back to the Ledbetter house.

The familiar surroundings of your guest room are becoming constrictive. The neat bed, small wardrobe, and dressing mirror have the feel of a prison cell about them. What are you still doing here in Emberhead? Your new life is elsewhere.
You lie on the bed and stare at a small crack in the ceiling. You turn over the day’s events, thinking through the little details you spotted. You are certainly weary from the elevation and the fresh air. But do you still feel safe here?
----

Are you going to let yourself fall asleep? Or are you going to stay awake?

[EarthenRite]

Tonight there will be a minimum of sleep. Victor is decided to try to escape this town. Something is wrong here. He will wait for first light (as he dares not know what else is in the dark) and then start the long walk towards....anywhere else.

[zingbobco000]

Sleep presses down on you. You blink it back and sit up, trying to think through your situation. Everything in Emberhead seems to be working to stop you leaving. Perhaps the answer is to strike out at first light, to walk as far and as fast as you can. You can always return for your possessions, and if you lose them, you have nothing so precious that it could not be replaced.
A tiny creak draws your attention to the other side of the room.
Slowly, almost silently, the doorknob is turning.
----

What do you do?

[EarthenRite]

Victor is going to reach across slowly and take whatever even somewhat heavy item he could use as a weapon from the side table or anywhere nearby. He will then try to pretend to be asleep but keep a gaze on the door.

[zingbobco000]

You slide onto the bed and lie on your side, eyes closed, gripping... your bag? At least it's something you think to yourself. The hinges creak as the door opens. There is a long pause.
A footfall sounds inside the room, then another. The steps are careful and feminine. You give it a moment, then open one eye a crack.
May crouches with her back to you. She is fiddling with something in the fireplace.

[EarthenRite]

Victor absolutely continues to watch, pulse pounding, to see what it is shes doing there.

[zingbobco000]

After another few moments, May glances round at you. Then you hear the soft scratch of a match being lit. She applies it to something in the grate and tiptoes from the room.
Once you hear her bedroom door, you creep to the grate. A small mound of black powder, no bigger than a thimble, is burning there. It gives off heady fumes.
----

Please give me a Science (Botany) roll (you are a complete novice in this field, but who knows, maybe you might identify it).

[EarthenRite]

[roll0]

And when she leaves Victor will get out of bed as quietly as possible and get low to breathe better. Fire was a dreaded danger in his profession.

[zingbobco000]

Sorry are you putting out the fire or are you just kinda letting it be and breathing it in?

[EarthenRite]

Basically getting low, so I don’t breathe as much in, then going over to try to tamp it out, them going back to the bed to continue the ruse of still being asleep to see what happens.

[zingbobco000]

You continue to lie down for fifteen minutes or so, but at this point you're unsure what exactly will happen. You're getting rather tired, but you feel like if you wanted, you could stay up for the entire night.
----

Shall you get some sleep so that you're well rested? Or stay up for the entire night?

[EarthenRite]

I will sleep but I’m collecting some of that powder before I do so, and keep it hidden.

[zingbobco000]

Emberhead, 8:37 AM, September 3rd, 1921

You awaken to the sound of feet in the street outside. Your night’s rest has brought a new determination. Today, you will meet Emberhead on your own terms.
----

You regain 1 hit point if you've lost any (which you haven't).
----

The Ledbetter kitchen is empty, although bread and eggs have been laid out for your breakfast. There is a note from May explaining that she has taken Ruth out for a few hours.

You make a quiet circuit of the village, pausing in unobtrusive places to watch the villagers. It is rather busy for this time in the morning. Yawning locals stream back and forward along the roads, carrying bundles of split logs to the site of what you’ve heard referred to as the Beacon. You see two figures already up in its superstructure, arranging the wood. The Festival bonfire will be most impressive. But do you intend to stay to see it? You suspect by now that something is amiss here.
While the villagers are distracted, you may do quite a bit illicit investigation. Or you may simply leave town without looking back.
----

Some things that may cross your mind could be: Searching May's bedroom after that stint with the powder, checking that weird boarded-up building in the Artisan's courtyard, going alone to the village hall after talking with Mr. Winters, or spying on activity at the beacon.

Alternatively, you could also just get the heck out of here.

[EarthenRite]

Alright, so I’m going to take some of that stuff she dumped in my fireplace and dump it in hers while I check out her room.

Then, after that, I’m getting out. This place would be definitely starting to creep Victor out.

[zingbobco000]

Despite her hospitality, you do not trust May Ledbetter. You return to her house quite openly. Where else would you go? Inside, the dwelling is still empty. You rap on the bedroom door and wait. Silence. You ease it open.
The Ledbetter bedroom is in marked contrast to your own, neat space. Dirty clothes are piled about the floor. On a rough quilt lie schoolbooks and cheap novels. You notice a raggedy old doll discarded down the side of the bed. You dump the strange powder into her fireplace and begin to look around.
----

Please give me a Spot Hidden roll.

[EarthenRite]

Spot Hidden - [roll0]

[zingbobco000]

You go through the Ledbetters’ drawers. The only item of interest you find is a wedding photograph. May’s husband was a wiry man with a square chin. Despite the formality of the pose, you can see the affection between them. You feel a pang of guilt at your intrusion, but then again, she did try and put something in your room. Also, May might return at any time.
----

If you would like, you may Push the roll by spending more time here and rolling your Spot Hidden (you consider yourself an amateur in this field) again. However, if you fail again, the result will be worse than just normally failing.

[EarthenRite]

I’m going to try it. I’ll push. Fortune favours the bold, right?

[roll0]

[zingbobco000]

You notice scrapes on the floorboards corresponding to the legs of the bed. With effort, you slide the bed away. There is a rug spread beneath it, and beneath the rug, a trapdoor. You ease it open. The dark space beneath is some kind of cellar.
----

Shall you delve deeper...?

[EarthenRite]

Oh absolutely...its the closest I’ve come to answers so far!

[zingbobco000]

Yes... answers... definitely not terrifying answers...
----

The daylight barely offers enough illumination to see, but a hot lantern during daytime would be very suspicious. You squeeze beneath the floor and glance around.
Your first impression is that May keeps her junk here, for there are many boxes of different sizes piled in untidy heaps. It takes a few seconds before you realize they are all traveling trunks, or suitcases. There are about twenty of them.
The implication hits you hard. Yet you maintain enough control to check the luggage tags. You count eight or nine different names before you stop. Scrambling back up to the bedroom, you close the trapdoor with trembling fingers, returning the bed to its place. With a mad dash you get out of the house... something is wrong here.

Emberhead, 10:02 AM, September 3rd, 1921

As you make it back to the center of town, you feel a deepening unease about Emberhead and this day in particular.
----

To repeat some of the things I mentioned: Checking that weird boarded-up building in the Artisan's courtyard, going alone to the village hall after talking with Mr. Winters, spying on activity at the beacon, or just getting out.

[EarthenRite]

Ohhh running. All the running. Victor has now put this together. Racing away!

[zingbobco000]

First you look off, and you realize that the only way out of this town, unless you want to fall to your death, would be out the roads. As you approach the southern road that descends to the lower ridge, you see four villagers blocking the route, with farm tools and clubs. You veer off and head towards the west road. Your heart sinks as you see exactly the same scene at the other exit from the village. You are trapped...
----

Uh-oh...

[EarthenRite]

Have I seen those villagers before? If I *haven’t* ...I’m going to try to talk my way past them. I can charm them maybe? I know I can’t fight them.

[zingbobco000]

Have I seen those villagers before? If I *haven’t* ...I’m going to try to talk my way past them. I can charm them maybe? I know I can’t fight them.

You have not seen the villagers before, so I guess you're going to try and talk to them.
----

The southern group appears less sharp than the western group. However, despite you not noticing them, they seem to recognize you, so you're not sure if just charming your way past these buffons will work...

[EarthenRite]

Do I think any social method will get me by them?

[zingbobco000]

Do I think any social method will get me by them?

Well, again, like in D&D anything will theoretically work it's just a matter of difficulty. Nevertheless, I'll go over each of the methods:
Charm - using flattery or trying to befriend someone (or seduction)
Fast Talk - Basically bamboozling someone, whether you're telling them the truth or lying (although normally it is deceptive in nature)
Intimidate - using aggression or threats of violence
Persuade - taking a long time (30 min.+ normally) to use rational arguments and debate (normally honest in nature but not necessarily)

[EarthenRite]

Fast Talk looks like my best option then!

I’ll provide a roll... [roll0]

Edit:...I’m going to die!

[zingbobco000]

You stride up to them and explain they are needed at the Beacon. They look dubious. You offer to watch the road for them and hold out your hand for a pitchfork.
“Nah. You come with us,” says the first one. His ape-like brow bends into a frown.

These locals are not as stupid as you think. They grab you and march you back into the center of the village.

The fading light from a narrow window tells you afternoon is giving way to evening. Your hands are shackled behind your back so you cannot even lie down on the rough bed. A woman you have not seen before comes in. Her face is wrinkled and her eyes dull. They do not meet yours, but she puts a cup to your lips.
----

Shall you accept?!

[EarthenRite]

No, Victor will resist in all ways possible. Whatever they are doing cannot be to help him. And, of course, he’s looking for a way out.

[zingbobco000]

You turn your face away, and when she tries again, you dash the cup from her hands using the side of your head. The clear liquid spills across the floor.
The woman gives a half-shrug and turns to leave the room. You shout after her, but she gives no reaction.
You find absolutely no means of egress in this damp, dank chamber.
You soon become thirsty.

As the light fades outside, your little prison becomes dark. You can hear much activity around the building. Occasionally an orange glow passes the window. The only comfortable position in the shackles seems to be to sit against the end of the bed with your arms hanging behind you.
You need to concentrate and come up with a plan. There is clearly no escape from your bonds. You do not know exactly what your captors want from you, but you cannot ignore the fact that they have spent the entire day constructing a massive bonfire.

The door scrapes, wrenching you back into the moment. Orange light spills into the house from blazing torches held at the threshold. Two large villagers step in and grab you. At least, you assume they are villagers. They wear heavy black cloaks, and their faces and hands are painted entirely black, save only for a red triangle centered on their left eye.
You try to drag your legs, but they reach under your arms and lift you bodily from the bed. Outside, it seems that the whole village has congregated to see you. Every single one has a blackened face with the red triangle motif. Torches sputter and spill fire.
You struggle, but you can see physical resistance is hopeless. You are marched to the central street and turned to face the Beacon.

https://s3.amazonaws.com/files.d20.io/images/89720049/L3DvTjcxLrld25ihsdRf4Q/max.png?1566314911

The procession down The Approach is slow and formal, save when you sense weakness and yank at your captors. A chill touches you when you see three human shapes carried ahead of you, draped in red cloth. The Beacon looms larger and larger, its dreadful silhouette a black triangle pointing to the stars. A low drone begins among the cloaked figures—unbidden, the word mourners comes to mind. Smoke from their torches makes you cough. You feel heat on your face.
As you reach the cleared area around the Beacon, three dancers break from the pack: young girls swinging balls of fire in spectacular arcs, drawing circles in the night air. One by one, they draw close to you and touch your forehead with sooty fingers. Each kisses you three times: on the left cheek, right cheek, then forehead. Then they whisper in your ear. The smell of kerosene fills your nostrils.
----

Please give me an Appearance roll!

[EarthenRite]

Appearance... [roll0]

[zingbobco000]

“Through your sacrifice the village will be reborn,” says the first dancer.
“You pass from earth to air for all our sakes,” says the second.
““Through incandescence may you find rapture,” says the third.
Their dance weaves off and disappears behind the buildings.

As you arrive beneath the beacon, ten villagers close in on you. Working with surprising coordination, they immobilize you and lift you up the blackened iron stairs to the raised platform. You cannot help but shiver at the sight of the central framework, twisted from past blazes, and what you can now clearly see to be fastening points for chain. None of the eyes meet yours as they lash you to the metal.
The village sings now, something rhythmic and ancient, carved from odd syllables. A second group ascends to the Beacon, carrying the three red-draped bodies. With reverence, they arrange their burdens in a triangle around your feet. Then they withdraw, leaving you alone with the dead, shin-deep in a sea of kindling.

It seems the entire village is gathered around the Beacon to watch you burn. Behind the face paint, you recognize May Ledbetter, and—yes, that is Silas the coach driver standing at her side. The audacity and scale of the deception staggers you. A man steps up on a dais and raises his hands with quiet authority. The frame of his spectacles obscures the red triangle on his face.
“So we draw here together again on this night, as we do each year, and we give thanks to the one who will preserve the village against the fire of the void. You will be taken by the Ones From Above in our stead. Your death will bring life to our streets and bounty to our fields. It will safeguard our children and our elders alike for another year. We salute you.” He bows his head.
All around the Beacon, bearers step forward and lift their torches to the edge of the raised platform. A ring of tiny flames flicker up around the perimeter. As they wink, the singing of the villagers drops into an unearthly rhythm. They stare at you, and you stare back, watching as you are held clearly in their vision.
----

Would you like to throw all of your remaining strength against the bonds right now or wait for a moment and see what happens?

[EarthenRite]

Nope, not waiting in the slightest. Victor is going to throw everything against those bonds and try to get some adrenaline to help push him through.

[zingbobco000]

Please give me a Strength roll then.

[EarthenRite]

Strength roll - [roll0]

[zingbobco000]

You’re tired, and your flesh ought to be insufficient against the dark iron of the chains. Yet you can feel them give a little. There is a weakness in one of the links.
----

I realize now that this was actually a Hard strength roll, my apologies.
----

The flames snake across the kindling, catching and rising. Smoke rises and it becomes difficult to see the villagers. The three bodies surrounding you catch fire, blazing with sooty red flames. You begin to cough as the smoke enters your lungs, and fight down the urge to panic.

Flames lick at your legs. Your eyes water. You are shrouded in smoke. It might be your imagination, but you think you can feel a slight give in the chains. You throw yourself against them, giving no thought to how they bite into your wrists.
----

You take 3 damage from the flames. Give me one more Strength roll (this one is normal)

[EarthenRite]

Hmmm here goes nothing...

[roll0]

[zingbobco000]

The flames race up higher and higher, you feel your strength ebbing away.
----

You take 4 more fire damage, but you may give me another Strength roll.

[EarthenRite]

*clutches dice tightly*!

[roll0]

[zingbobco000]

Desperation lends you strength and you yank at what you guess to be the weak point in the chain. It breaks! You throw the chain off, stumbling across one of the red-shrouded corpses, heading away from the watching villagers. You cough. Your hair and eyebrows smolder.
----

You take 2 more points of damage as you're literally running through fire, (you're at 1 HP)
----

You leap from the conflagration on the far side of the Beacon. Your heart lurches momentarily at the sight of the sheer drop beneath you, but you land a few inches short of the edge. You roll to extinguish your burning clothes. Your lungs feel singed. Everything hurts. The chant of the villagers gathers in intensity. You peer around the Beacon. They don’t seem to have noticed your absence amidst the billowing smoke. Most of them are staring into the sky.
You crawl as rapidly as you can for the cover of the nearest building.

With the villagers assembled at the Beacon, the streets are empty and you are able to pad away from the blaze. You must get out of town before they finish.
The chanting seems to accelerate as you round the corner of the southern road. Here, parked against the side of the general store, you have your first piece of luck since reaching Emberhead. A bicycle! You learned to ride one of these in Providence.
You settle into the saddle. Your burned flesh protests at the contact.
----

Now one final query, shall you wait and observe the going ons at the beacon, just for... investigative purposes? Or are you absolutely positively done with this place?

[EarthenRite]

I will watch for one moment more, but the second they are looking like they are going to move, I’m out. I’ll probably watch from the bike saddle, actually.

[zingbobco000]

After a quick glance around to be sure you are unobserved, you look back along the avenue. The entire village is intent upon the Beacon. Their chanting reaches a new, fevered pitch. You cannot say exactly why, but you get the impression something is wrong. The chant begins to break and the villagers sway. Then—
FTOOM! Something incandescent thunders into the crowd in front of the Beacon, leaving a fiery trail in your vision. You feel the ground shudder beneath the bicycle. FTOOM! Another strikes nearby, scattering sparks. Now the chant falters and gives way to screams.
Fire skims the buildings facing the Beacon. Smoke rolls through the streets. A woman staggers towards you, wailing. Her arm is on fire. She beats it against a wall.
FTOOM! Another strike, out of your sight, towards the village hall. It’s time to go.

It takes a moment to recapture the skill of riding the bicycle, but after the first turn to the east, there is a long downhill out of Emberhead. You hear screams and crackles above you, but concentrate on balancing and working the pedals in your weakened state. You’ve had too many hopes dashed in this abomination of a village. You keep your head down and ride away. Twenty minutes later, with no signs of pursuit, you stop for a breather at the top of a hill. You can see Emberhead rise in the distance. The entire village appears to be ablaze. The dark column of smoke above it will be visible for many miles—but if the village is as isolated as it seems, help is unlikely to arrive in time.
You watch the place burn for five minutes. Then you mount the bicycle again and ride towards civilization, and dawn.
----

Congratulations! You have survived this adventure. You may keep your investigator sheet and use it in another Call of Cthulhu scenario. If I have noted that you have succeeded in any skills, you will have a chance to improve them through experience (you should head to the OOC to check out stuff).
The End.

[EarthenRite]

This was a wonderfully fun game to play! Thank you so much for the opportunity.