Mobves' 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.

----
Plymouth, New Hampshire, 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 very early image you have of your character, please rank these characteristics in whatever order you choose. 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!

[Mobves]

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 very early image you have of your character, please rank these characteristics in whatever order you choose. 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!

Okay!

[1] Power
[2] Intelligence
[3] Constitution
[4] Education
[5] Appearance
[6] Size
[7] Dexterity
[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.

You struggle for a few seconds before the driver comes up beside you and lends a hand, still puffing on his cigarette. “Heavy bags for a small ‘un,” he remarks. You judge it best to respond with a simple mutter of thanks.

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.
----

Your starting Sanity is determined by your Power (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 fluctuate, but it is unlikely to ever exceed its maximum.
You also have a Luck score, which is used to help determine things out of your control. Please give me 3d6 to assist in generating your beginning luck.

[Mobves]

ka-pow!! [roll0]

[zingbobco000]

Wellll... that's a little below average. I guess your character's not the luckiest person around.
----

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 give me a Dexterity roll by rolling a d100 (Call of Cthulhu [unlike D&D, PF, etc...] is part of the d100 system, so that'll be the dice you most often roll).

N.B. Whenever I say "roll," unless I specify otherwise, I mean a d100.

[Mobves]

Yikes!

[roll0]

[zingbobco000]

You rolled below your Dexterity which means that you have succeeded on your roll (for now I shall hold your scores and whatnot, as I'd rather not overwhelm you right away, but eventually I shall hand your fully-furnished character sheet to you!).
----

A desperate yell awakens you. You feel yourself slide from the seat as the driver spins the wheel and the motor-coach plunges off the road. You grab hold of the seat in front, just in time to prevent a painful fall. The coach stops with a thump.
Now you see what has happened. A Fordson tractor has stopped in the road and your driver has had to swerve to avoid this steel obstacle. He leaps from his seat into the road, unleashing a string of curses at the farmer.
You take a moment to catch your breath. Perhaps you should offer assistance? But the driver has already returned. He backs the coach up a little and threads it around the tractor, glaring at the farmer.

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.
----

So, it's now time to pick a name for your character! Please also let me know about your character's age as well. For the purposes of this scenario (heading to a new job), you're probably around 23 to 36 or so, but if you'd like to be outside those bounds, that's fine too.

[Mobves]

"J-Jerome," the young man stammers, "Jerome Lance." With some effort he's able to relax his grip on the seat in front of him. "I'm happy to be in the hands of such a capable driver," he manages, hoping a few dishonest kind words are enough to guarantee further good treatment from Silas.

Jerome is 26 years old.

[zingbobco000]

Silas gives a nod, appreciative of your complement. The coach then turns onto a narrower road, which weaves uphill through woodland. Silas becomes chatty.
“Going to Arkham, eh, Jerome? 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?”
----

Now it's time for your character to choose an occupation. In Call of Cthulhu an occupation provides you with several occupation skills. It's comparable to a class, but the main distinction is that it's not representative of all your characters abilities, and it does not really affect advancement.
Some common occupations for investigators include:

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

[zingbobco000]

As you mention the position you got as a member of the clergy for Arkham's First Baptist, you recall how hard you worked to become a part of Plymouth's elite... and yet, something about them struck you as off. Perhaps you were disenfranchised by their emphasis on making money, or maybe it was simply that you knew them too well. Regardless, you knew that it was your moment to prove yourself to the Lord when you were recommended by the chaplain of Plymouth State to head towards Arkham. With the population of Miskatonic being so ingrained in the sciences, he theorized that they could use the Lord's guidance.
“A holy man? Huh...” Silas does not take the conversation any further.
----

Your occupational skills are: Accounting, History, Library Use, Listen, Psychology as well as a choice from the following:
Which conversational skill would he use in any sermons or statements?
Charm - physical attraction, seduction, flattery, or simply warmth of personality.
Fast Talk - 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. Although sometimes it's just persuade that takes a short amount of time.
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). This normally takes quite a bit of time.
.
Which language other than English do you know (perhaps Latin because... well... baptist)?

[Mobves]

Plymouth State's Chaplain suggested Jerome go to Arkham because of the young man's uniquely scientific approach to religion. He has the logical skillset required to Persuade the members of Arkham's First Baptist to trust in the Lord, as well as convince nobelievers.

The ability to read and write Latin is something else Jerome garnered from his studies.

[zingbobco000]

Sounds good to me!

You may now choose one skill from the following list that you would perceive to be related to Jerome's career as a member of the clergy. I'll also provide a short sentence description or so for each.

Accounting (you have this one) - 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 - 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 - 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 - 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 - 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 (Brawl) - one's skill in melee combat. There are also different specializations such as Sword, Axe, Flail, Spear, Garrote, or Whip. Each one requires its own choice (if not picking Brawl).
Firearms - covers all manner of firearms, as well as bows and crossbows. There are different specializations including Handguns, Rifles/Shotguns, Bows (includes Crossbows), SMGs, Machine Guns, and Flamethrower. Each one requires it's own choice.
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, but you may pick another 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 (you have this one) - 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. This one makes sense for a preist, given that Occult can be wrapped up in religion.
Operate Heavy Machinery - required to drive and operate a train, steam engine, bulldozer, or other large-scale land machines. Persuade (you have this one) - 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 (you have this one) - 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, Engineering, Forensics, Geology, Mathematics, Meteorology, 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 - 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!

[Mobves]

I agree that Occult makes sense for a priest! Plus perhaps that area of interest will find Jerome some friends in Arkham...

[zingbobco000]

Maybe... :smallwink:
----

You 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.
----

Note that even if you don't pick a skill as an Occupational Skill or a Personal Interest, you can still attempt any skill roll, having what's called a Base ability in it. There will more than likely be a slight, but nevertheless present, chance of you succeeding on anything you attempt.
----

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 survive on your own in this lush wilderness?
----

Speaking of Personal Interest Skills from before, please choose four skills that represent Paul's Personal interests (so things unrelated to his occupation, in fact, they cannot be the same as his occupational skills).

Also, I have a tendency to write a lot. I hope you're ok with this. If not, I can always shorten everything to better fit your desires.

[Mobves]

As Jerome notices the outline of deer in the forest he's reminded of the hunting excursion his father took him on when Jerome was just a child. It was a miserable experience. His father was mostly silent as they sat in the damp. When they finally spotted a buck Jerome aimed at it... but found he couldn't pull the trigger. So his father shot it, as if to prove something. In the following weeks the venison prove tasteless in the boy's mouth.

He had no interest in returning to the wilderness after that. His time was better spent indoors, studying subjects such as German, the native tongue of his ancestors, as well as Chemistry and Archaeology. He used to be a proud member of Plymouth's Archaeological Society, where he also learned how to Appraise the value of various artifacts.

Indeed, the scrawny young intellectual was happy to be putting the White Mountains behind him. He couldn't find much in common between himself and folk such as Silas.

---

Also: please, don't hold back with what you write! I've been enjoying your description of bucolic New Hampshire. My IRL hometown happens to be Manchester !!!!!

[zingbobco000]

The motor coach rattles on through the hills and Silas continues his 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.
----

So now we need to discuss the order of your occupational skills. You currently have chosen: Accounting, History, Library Use, Listen, Psychology, Persuade, Other Language (Latin), and Occult. Please rate these from highest to lowest.

[Mobves]

Alright!! How about...

[1] Persuade
[2] History
[3] Library use
[4] Occult
[5] Other Language (Latin)
[6] Listen
[7] Psychology
[8] Accounting

[zingbobco000]

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.
----

Please give me either a Drive Auto (you consider yourself an amateur in this field) roll or a Hard Psychology (you consider yourself an amateur in this field) roll. A Hard roll means that you must roll equal to or under half of your skill level.

Also, yes, it is intentional I’m not specifying the exact numbers.

[Mobves]

I'll roll Drive Auto! [roll0]

[zingbobco000]

That's actually a Success! Nice!
----

The grinding noises you heard could, of course, indicate engine trouble, but they also seem consistent with bad gear selection and incorrect declutching. It seems highly unlikely that an experienced coach driver would suddenly get this wrong, even after a long day’s drive (then again, based on the previous occurrence, Silas is not exactly what you'd call an "experienced driver").
If this is a ruse to make you spend your time and money in a local shop, Silas will be sadly disappointed in your purchasing power.

Regardless, the coach is going to be out of commission for some time.
----

In this game, whenever you get a Success on a skill roll, you may be offered the chance to improve it later on (generally at the end of the scenario)!
----

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.”
----

Is your plan at this point to head off for May's house, ask Silas where he's going to spend the night, or are you going to challenge him about the veracity of the breakdown?

[Mobves]

I eye the man suspiciously. "I suppose you're well acquainted with this Ms. Ledbetter," I say. "Will you be staying with her as well?"

I walk up to where he stands. I take a personal look at the engine. "It seems," I continue, frowning at the pile of metal,"that considering the price of my ticket, I should have been provided with a driver who doesn't run innocent farmers off the road. & furthermore, a driver who is able to shift an engine properly!"

I gaze at the man contemptuously. "Is there a church in town? I'd like to consult a fellow man of the cloth about this so-called Ms. Ledbetter before charging into her house unannounced."

[zingbobco000]

His brow darkens and he shows a mouthful of twisted teeth.
“Ain’t that just like you city types,” he spits. “Thinking the worst of a man after he’s gone out his way to attend to your comfort!” He stalks around to the back of the coach and hauls your bags from the rack, dumping them on the ground at your feet. “Take them! Otherwise, I guess you’ll be accusing me of thievery in the morning!”

He marches off into the darkness, raging. That could have gone better. You look around and soon realize you strongly doubt there'd be a mechanic in this town (or a church). In fact, there are virtually no lights at all save the bright glow from the emerging stars. With nowhere else to turn it seems as good a choice as any to follow Silas' directions. Despite his sullen attitude, he's probably upset with having to stay overnight.

You drag your cases between the sullen buildings. You feel surprisingly weary, considering you have spent all day sitting down. 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.”

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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.
----

Would you like to explain what happened with Silas and the coach, or ask about this festival?

[Mobves]

Feeling embarrassed about my brief verbal scuffle with Silas, I stare down unhappily at my frowning reflection in the cup.

"I'm just passing through, unfortunately," I murmur. "I'll be along the road as quick as I can be in the morning."

I graciously sip the tea, hopeful that May Ledbetter will prove to be a more reasonable conversationalist than my illustrious driver. Curiosity gets the best of me & I ask her: "What festival do you mean?

[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 trails 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. The room is small but comfortable, and the stew dark and hearty. After dinner, you have a couple of hours before your usual bedtime.
----

Would you maybe like to talk to May some more, walk around and get your bearings, or are you just planning on heading to sleep early for the long day of travel tomorrow?

[Mobves]

My curiosity truly piqued now, I decide to further question the woman.

"About this Festival..." I begin, "I've lived in Plymouth my entire life, hardly far from here at all. But I've never heard of the Festival or 'Beacon' you told me about. It seems a bit strange... Is the tradition a new one?"

[zingbobco000]

May simply shrugs "I'm not sure. From what I can recall it has."
She then goes on to talk about life in Emberhead. “In her letters my sister always asks if I’m not bored, living in such a small place. She lives in New York. Then she writes about how frightened she is to walk home at night! I ask you.”
You mention your hopes for a new life in Arkham. May doesn’t seem to hear you.
“It’s a small place here, yes, but that means we have real community. Everybody’s face is known. Everybody works together. Nobody is excluded. Except those who choose to exclude themselves, of course. I couldn’t live anywhere else now.”
----

Admittedly, you've never even heard of this town before.

Please give me a Charm (you consider yourself a neophyte in this field) roll.

[Mobves]

"Is Emberhead really so safe?" I ask her. "I'm a bit restless from traveling today... I was thinking of going out for a little walk about town."

---

To Charm: [roll0]

[zingbobco000]

She nods, but notes. "It's a bit too dark now, doubt you'd be able to see anything. We don't have any of your fancy street lights, mind you."
----

It seems you must have missed your opportunity.
----

As the hour wears on, you are amused to hear May transform into a sort of tired tourist guide.
“Of course the views from here are spectacular on a good day. A clear view all the way round. If you’re a painter you’ll be right at home. If your tastes run more to the artisan, there are workshops on Silbury Street. Just at the end here and turn right. They’re not set up for visitors, you understand? But you’ll see the real craftsmen at work. The genuine article. Now, if you’re looking for freshly baked bread...”
It seems a shame to point out that you intend to be on the road again shortly. You let May continue until she begins to yawn.
“Would you listen to me yapping? Time to turn in. When would you like your breakfast?” A simple seven o'clock should suffice.

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.
----

Does this suffice? If you really wanted to take a walk outside you probably could, but May's right, even with a heavy lantern that she'd provide you wouldn't be able to see anything (and with the chill of night, such a walk would probably be short-lived anyway). However, if you truly believe that you'd like to take a bit of a walk, that's fine, we can RP that.

[Mobves]

I'm not determined enough to ignore May's advice. My interest in the town is mostly the result of an active mind left idling. I'm happy to turn in after saying a few prayers, hopefully to have a dreamless sleep & be off without trouble in the morning.

[zingbobco000]

Hmmm... "hopefully" being the operative word...
----

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.
----

So, yes, just to clarify, "long rests" heal 1 HP. Taking damage is a bad idea (just like in real life).
----

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, but basically... where do you want to head now to find transport out of here? Some places of interest that I listed were: The lower ridge of land that heads eastward, the artisan's courtyard, the village hall, the church, the general store, or the raised black metal structure?

[Mobves]

I'm distressed by the turn of events, but somehow not surprised. Silas -- If that even is the man's name -- offered me plenty of reasons to doubt & distrust him. I'm only disappointed in myself for not taking more careful precautions.

I feel lucky to be in May's hands. The woman seems kind enough.

I decide to head to the town hall to see if I can find the Mr. Winter's fellow she mentioned. Perhaps with his help I can make a phone call to Arkham to alert the church of my delay. It would be double good luck if he knows someone who could deliver me out of this blasted freckle on a map.

---

edit: apparently there were telephones in the 1920s, telegrams were probably obsolete!

[zingbobco000]

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.

You are beginning to get your bearings in Emberhead. Would you like to explore some more?
----

If so, I shall provide you with the same list: The lower ridge of land that heads eastward, the artisan's courtyard, the village hall, the church, the general store, or the raised black metal structure?

There were, the issue was they were crazy expensive. Unless you wanted to call your next-door neighbor or something, it was probably a better idea to send them a telegram (also they definitely wouldn't be in a town this size).

[Mobves]

I sigh and thank the gray-garbed woman.

Anxiety about my situation is truly bubbling now in my gullet, so I decide to visit the abandoned church. Perhaps I can find some solace there.

I bid the woman good-morning and walk south across the town.

[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 (you consider yourself a beginner in this field) roll, but with a Bonus Die. What this means is that you roll an additional d10, and if it is lower than the ten's place of the d100, you may use that in place of the d100's ten's place.

[Mobves]

Ride roll: [roll0], & a bonus die: [roll1]

If I have the opportunity, I'll sit down & pray for awhile.

[zingbobco000]

Sadly, that's a Failure...
----

You sit down and pray within the ruins of this empty church. You cannot help but feel slightly saddened by its ramshackle state while you occupy its now-rotting walls. Eventually, though, it's time to focus on getting onwards to Arkham.

As you return to the center of the area, you're beginning to get a grip on the major thoroughfares in the little village. Would you like to continue to explore?
----

Once, again here's the list: The lower ridge of land that heads eastward, the artisan's courtyard, the village hall, the church, the general store, or the raised black metal structure?

[Mobves]

Feeling somber but calmer now from my time in the church, I glance at my watch. Perhaps I should check to see if Mr. Winter is in yet.

In the meantime I walk towards the black metal structure in the center of town. I figure it probably has something to do with the odd festival May mentioned... I shiver as I approach it. Something certainly seems off about Silas, May, indeed this entire town. Even as I grow afraid of what I'll discover, I find myself drawn towards the tenebrous iron shape.

[zingbobco000]

It's still the morning. I don't want to bog this adventure down with an emphasis on time, so I'll let you know when you could probably visit Mr. Winters.
----

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.
----

Please give me (the first of many) a Spot Hidden (you consider yourself an amateur in this field) roll.

[Mobves]

ka-pow! Spot hidden: [roll0]

---

Assuming I don't see anything remarkable, I'll simply frown at the structure & continue along to the general store. Perhaps I could pick up a book to read there.

[zingbobco000]

Wow! That's most certainly a Success! You shall have the chance to possibly improve this skill too.
----

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?
----

I doubt this would change your plan, but I'd still like to confirm that you're heading towards the General Store.

[Mobves]

Hmm... Very odd. Perhaps I'll meet someone at the general store who would be willing to answer a few questions about the archaeological history of the town.

---



I'd still like to confirm that you're heading towards the General Store.

I certainly am!!

[zingbobco000]

The general store is on a corner beside the main road, just before it plunges to the south. The shopkeeper is a brisk, immense lady with a starched apron and strong shoulders. She looks hard at your unfamiliar face.
“Transport? There’s a motorcoach comes through twice a week. Missed it? Hmm. Truck brings in my supplies every second Tuesday, but he’s not due until next week.” She shrugs.
It seems Emberhead is content to keep its distance from the outside world. This also does not appear to be the kind of woman who would know the archaeological history of the town.
----

You have enough cash on you to buy a couple of inexpensive everyday items here. Remember the year is 1921! The shop (if you were wondering) stocks no weapons except a dusty hunting knife, which you may purchase if you want.
----

As you inquire about some literature to pass the time she shakes her head. "You'll be wanting Mr. Winters' library. We don't sell books here. Opens up his doors in the afternoon this time of year, I should think."

[Mobves]

As I gaze down at the hunting knife I'm reminded of the hunting trip my father took me on all those years ago. I think of the buck, its fur golden in the midday sun, standing proud & oblivious to me & my father. I think of how I was unable to fire at it... & how the buck died anyway, by my father's hand.

In that moment I see myself not as myself in the memory, & not as my father... But as the buck.

Wracked with paranoia, I purchase the knife.

I also try to find a bite to eat -- preferably something without much dust on it. Stuffing the blade into my jacket, I proceed to the artisans' courtyard.

[zingbobco000]

Before that happens...
----

After you finish your simple bite to eat, you realize your morning exertions have left you hungry for more than just a strip of jerky. 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 more 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.
----

Would you like to ask Ruth about what she said? Ask her mother about what Ruth said? Or just remain silent?

[Mobves]

I'm shocked by Ruth's words, but judging by their urgency it would be unwise to pursue a conversation directly. I decide to attempt an oblique approach.

"It's good to finally meet you, Ruth. Your mother has been very kind to this stinky stranger." I look up to May, directing a question towards her: "Does she go to school around here? Church? I noticed the steeple on the other end of town could use a fresh coat of paint, at the very least."

[zingbobco000]

May appears shocked by your response, clearly unsure of exactly what Ruth said. "Ruth! Don't say things like that; this man is our guest!" She then looks up towards you, "I'm dreadfully sorry, she's not normally like this." As the conversation continues however, she calms down as well, partially due to the fact that you do not seem troubled by this apparent slight. "Yes, once school begins, she'll spend her days there, but during these summer days she just helps out with me. And indeed, I should maybe talk to Mr. Winters and have him get someone on that."
She turns towards the church gazing at its ruined state. "Anyway, Ruth and I must be off. I hope Mr. Winters can be of assistance Mr. Lance!" She looks down at her daughter, who at this point has been staring at you, partially hidden behind her mother. "Wave goodbye Ruth."
Ruth waves and smiles cheerfully. "Talk to you later mister sintky-pants." May immediately drags her daughter away while you judge it best to not deal with such family matters.

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.
----

So, Mr. Winters, or the wilderness... What are you thinking?

[Mobves]

"Goodbye, May! Goodbye, Ruth! I call to the pair as they walk away. "Perhaps we could enjoy a bible study together before dinner this evening, Ruth! It's the least I could do to repay your mother's hospitality."

When the pair are gone & my meal is eaten I decide to go find this Mr. Winters I've heard so much about. I examine the hunting knife I purchased in the half-light of May's kitchen before leaving -- as mad as it sounds, having a weapon makes me feel secure in this strange town.

Hopefully Winters has some answers for me, I think to myself as I pocket the knife & leave the house.

[zingbobco000]

Neither May nor Ruth responds, perhaps they didn't hear you...

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.
----

Would you like to examine said noticeboards? Or just get right down to business and knock on the door?

[Mobves]

Finding myself surprisingly thirsty for a handful of words to read, I take a cursory look at the noticeboards.

[zingbobco000]

The floorboards creak beneath you as you cross the room. You feel a slight spring in your step. Perhaps this room is used as a gymnasium for the village children.
One noticeboard appears to be for the adults of the community, and one for the children. The former looks neglected, featuring handwritten advertisements for household items and a yellowed note about telegraph pricing. There is nothing about the festival (if you were curious).
The children’s noticeboard has a schedule for weekly crèche services, and a number of paintings obviously done by the children themselves. Most are incoherent, though colorful. As best you can tell, they depict fireworks, or perhaps the tale of Joseph from the Book of Genesis. One has lost a pin and hangs upside down. It shows a giant bird attacking Emberhead. Or it might simply be that the artist has not yet mastered the subtleties of scale.
----

However, as you're looking, please give me a Spot Hidden (you consider yourself an amateur in this field) roll.

Again, this skill comes up a lot :smalltongue:

[Mobves]

Spot hidden: boom!!! [roll0]

[zingbobco000]

Sadly that’s a Failure.
——

As you’re looking, the door scrapes behind you. A middle-aged, bespectacled gentleman appears in the doorway. “May I help you?”
You explain you are visiting on May Ledbetter’s recommendation.
“Ah. Well, I’m Clyde Winters. I’m not sure I can help you, but… would you care for some coffee? I’m partial to a cup in the afternoon.”
He gestures to the open door behind him. This seems like a worthwhile opportunity, and you are a little thirsty.

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. 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.
----

Would you like to make small talk with the gentleman first, or ask about the telegraph set immediately?

[Mobves]

I have many questions for the man, but establishing communication with the church in Arkham is my highest priority.

"I appreciate your kindness," I begin. "The people of Emberhead have shown me naught but kindness in the time I've been stranded here. I do have an additional favor to ask, however: is that telegraph set in the corner by any chance available for use by the public? I would be happy to pay with the measly cash I have."

I sit up in my chair, look the man in the eye, & continue: "You see, I'm passing through Emberhead on my way to new prospects out of state. I was abandoned by my bus driver, a man named Silas, & am anxious to alert my contacts down south to this development."

[zingbobco000]

“The telegraph? Mmm. Much as we value our isolation, we do need the link sometimes… you were hoping to send a message weren't you? 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 (this is also where the second statement comes in).
“Hmm... that's very unlike him, I mean, we don't interact much, but he still helps with deliveries for the artisans. Regardless, 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.
----

Anyway, would you like to stay around for more small talk, or are you done with Mr. Winters?

[Mobves]

I try to hide my disappointment by graciously thanking Mr. Winters for the coffee & taking a careful sip.

"I suppose that will have to do," I say, feeling more trapped by the minute. I eye the wall of books behind Mr. Winters.

"I see you've got an admirable library for such a small town. Do you happen to have any books about the upcoming festival? I've heard about it from a few of the villagers. I'm a bit of a hobbyist historian & would like to learn more, if it's not too much trouble. Just a little something to occupy myself until I'm able to leave."

[zingbobco000]

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 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.

Winters is happy for you to spend the rest of the afternoon in study and offers you an upright but comfortable chair. You have enough time to pursue one line of research in depth. Concerning your initial line of inquiry, Mr. Winters shrugs when you inquire as to whether or not his library contains anything concerning the Festival. "I'm unsure if there's one perfect book that would surmise it, of course. But you're more than welcome to peruse my collection."
----

So I'm pretty sure you're going to look into the Festival, but just to confirm, I'll offer a couple of other options too, including: The history of the area, something from the sciences, or some of the weird fiction.

[Mobves]

Thanks for confirming! But yes, I am looking to learn about the festival specifically. Any tangential information I can gather about the town would also be interesting, though.

I suppose this is what the Use Library skill is for ??

[zingbobco000]

Actually, in this case, the Library is small enough that you wouldn't have to make a roll.
----

You are not surprised to find there is no published work on Emberhead’s Festival. Winters pokes around and finds a cased monograph, handwritten on yellowing paper by a Dr. Aniolowski. “An acquaintance of my father’s, I believe,” Winters says.
The manuscript is somewhat difficult to read and you make slow progress. Aniolowski speculates that the Festival has its origin in Pagan rites brought over by Celtic settlers, which celebrate the ancient festivals of Beltane, Samhuinn, Imbolc, and Lughnasadh. There is some discussion of the struggle between the seasons and a couple of oblique references to “the alignment” in Emberhead. Aniolowski suggests that the meaning of the Festival slowly changed around the turn of the century.
The monograph terminates mid-sentence at the end of page 28, just as it begins to discuss the modern practices. You ask Winters if he has the remaining pages.
“No. I’m afraid those have been misplaced,” he says. “Perhaps they are still in the library somewhere, but...” He shrugs. “I must make the time for a thorough stock take.”

The afternoon wears on. You continue to search for more information and 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 (you consider yourself lower-middle class) roll.

[Mobves]

cha-ching: [roll0]

[zingbobco000]

I'm afraid that's a Failure.
----

“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.

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 joint 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.
----

Would you like to go stargazing on this night, or try and speak with Ruth alone?

[Mobves]

Under normal circumstances I wouldn't seriously consider a warning such as the one Ruth had issued to me earlier. But nothing is normal about the circumstances surrounding Emberhead. I retrieve my bible from my luggage then knock on the door to Ruth & May's shared room.

"Ruth?" I call through the shut door, "How would you like to hear a short story before bed time?"

[zingbobco000]

In time, May returns to the kitchen and busies herself clearing up. When you call through the door, she looks at you a bit strangely, but the door does open a crack. Ruth, however, does not speak, instead only pointing towards her mother and then the door.

To speak to Ruth, it's quite clear that you will need to get May to leave for a short while. You help with the dishes and try to think of some ruse. In time, an idea comes and you ask about Silas and his friends in the village.
May narrows her eyes. “He knows Troy on the other side of town,” she says. “Not sure I’d call them friends. More like an old feuding couple. But he probably spent last night at Troy’s place.”
You ask May if she could visit Troy and ask if Silas mentioned any plans to return. May looks dubious. “Right now?” she asks.
----

How are you planning on convincing May to do this in order to talk to Ruth? Are you appealing to her emotions and flattering her, commenting about how she's been such a great host already? Or are you trying to rush her into compliance, noting how it's just one little thing, and it will only take a moment? Alternatively, maybe you're using logic and reasoning by noting that if you don't get into contact with the church soon, you could lose practically your entire livelihood?
RP out whatever option you choose, and then provide me with a d100 roll.

[Mobves]

"I apologize for asking another favor when you've already done so much," I say. "It's just that I'm becoming desperate. I've been in Emberhead for a full day now. & as lovely as the town is, I never intended to be here at all! I'm headed out of state, remember, to start a new job in Arkham. I've more or less risked my livelihood upon a new life there."

"Any information you could gather about Silas would be tremendously appreciated, May."


---

roll: [roll0]

[zingbobco000]

I'm afraid that's a Failure.
----

May frowns, looking saddened by your statement, but nevertheless she shakes her head. “I’ll be happy to go see him in the morning. I must see to Ruth for now. She’s been a terrible handful today.” Her bedroom door closes with a heavy clunk.

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?
----

Would you like to stay awake? Or would you rather let yourself fall asleep?

[Mobves]

I certainly don't feel safe in Emberhead, especially considering the swift approach of the festival. Each avenue of escape has been blocked off before I've had a chance to follow it very far.

I resolve to attempt to speak to Ruth privately again in the morning. The girl seems to know something important.

I read from my bible until sleep eventually claims me.

[zingbobco000]

Please give me a Luck roll.

[Mobves]

uh-oh... [roll0]

[zingbobco000]

Your eyelids are heavy and whatever your reservations, blackness soon takes you.
You dream again of fire in the grate, a small theater of lights twinkling a tiny drama. The flames seem to consume nothing, almost to hang in the air. A moment later, they are around your sleeping form, filling the room with flickering colors: blue, yellow, red, purple. They dance on and around you. The little tongues brush your flesh…

You drift awake in the morning light. The sun is already high but you do not feel well rested. You find yourself preoccupied with little details of the room: the wood grain of the doorjamb, or a chipped handle on the wardrobe.
As you swing out of bed, your stomach gives a lurch and you lean too far over, nearly tumbling to the floor. You blink for a moment. Perhaps you have an illness coming on. You get carefully to your feet. The air in the room is heavy and fragrant. You stare out of the window until you feel steady enough to leave.
----

You feel so abysmal that you have a Penalty Die to all of your rolls (except Sanity, Luck, and Damage). As a reminder a Penalty Die means you will roll a d10 and use that in place of the ten's place if it is higher.
----

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 some illicit investigation. Or you may simply leave town without looking back.
----

What are you thinking? Would you like to: Search May's bedroom? Go alone to the village hall? Take a closer look at the artisan's courtyard? Spy on activity at the Beacon? Or slip down the eastern road and flee for good?

[Mobves]

I certainly don't feel comfortable going out of town on foot, as nice as it would be to get away from this place. As bad as I feel about this town, the people here are still people. I'd rather not be forced to confront an angry black bear.

I decide to snoop around May's room while she's out. Perhaps I can find out why Ruth warned me so desperately to get away.

[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.
----

Please give me a Spot Hidden (you consider yourself an amateur in this field) roll (with the Penalty Die).

[Mobves]

Yikes! roll: [roll0] & [roll1]

[zingbobco000]

So this would normally be a Fumble (rolling a 96-100 on a skill with a rating with less than 50, but we're not playing with that right now), but for now it will just be a Failure.
----

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. Also, May might return at any time.
----

You may Push the roll by making another roll (still with the Penalty Die), but if you fail something bad will happen. Alternatively, you may simply leave May's home and attempt something else.

[Mobves]

I sigh, frustrated. Although I'm not quite sure what I expected to discover.

I decide to explore in the Artisan's Courtyard. Perhaps I'll find some answers there.

[zingbobco000]

You approach around the back of the buildings in Emberhead’s northwestern corner. By this time in the morning, you would expect activity in the artisans’ courtyard, but the benches and anvils sit deserted. Your footsteps echo off the surrounding walls, finding it all but abandoned except for a strange boarded-up workshop... Looking around to make sure that nobody has noticed your presence, you hurry up to it and look it over. It has been shut up and padlocked. You peek through the joints, but you can see nothing inside.
----

You might be able to try and crack the padlock, or maybe break into the workshop with your strength. Or do you want to simply head off so as to not attract too much attention?

[Mobves]

Naturally curious but not naturally burly, I decide to wrap around the back of the deserted workshop. Perhaps I can find a window or back door that would be easier to get into.

[zingbobco000]

There appears to be only one entrance into this workshop (it's not very big).

[Mobves]

Hmmm... Very peculiar. I suppose that leaves the Beacon. I stroll towards it, hands deep in my pockets, glancing over my shoulder a few times despite myself.

[zingbobco000]

The northern side of the village is bustling and you are unlikely to remain hidden there for long. You head in the direction of the church, and then move up the east side, behind the houses. A drop looms on your right. One particular section of ground is quite narrow and you have to hug the building for support.
----

Would you like to press on, or would you rather give up this approach?

[Mobves]

Feeling overcome by anxiety again, I decide to return to one of the moldy pews in the abandoned church & pray there for a little while.

Once it's afternoon I'll return to the town hall to spend another few hours in the library.

[zingbobco000]

Well... that's what you'd like to do.
----

You are heading towards the ruined church when you see one villager, a bald man with a damaged ear, watching you intently. Some instinct makes you walk in the other direction. Then you see the others, ahead, and to your sides: a wary teenager, an evil-eyed matron, and a man hefting a club. They are not staring as obviously as the first, but they keep you under watch. And they are closing in. You cannot hope to overcome four of them at once.
----

Would you like to try and lose them among the buildings? Or would you rather just make a run for it?

[Mobves]

Uh-oh...

---

I don't think I have much of a chance to lose them by running off into the wilderness. Instead I elect to dash towards the nearest collection buildings. Perhaps, at the very least, I can find a place to hide for long enough to get the jump on one of them.

[zingbobco000]

You dart down an alley, then turn and head in a completely different direction. Running feet sound behind you. For the first time you feel Emberhead’s cramped, chaotic streets work in your favor. You try to circle round towards the southern road.
----

Please give me a Stealth (you consider yourself an amateur in this field) roll, still with a Penalty Die.

[Mobves]

roll: [roll0] & [roll1]

[zingbobco000]

Again, normally a Fumble, but we'll skip that for now.
----

You turn a corner and walk straight into the formidable woman with the malevolent stare. She grabs your shoulders and bears down on you. As you struggle, the man with the club runs up with the teenager. You are quickly overcome.

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.
----

Would you like to accept this or reject it?

[Mobves]

I reject whatever this woman is trying to give me! Then I attempt to speak to her.

"Hey, listen, what's this all about? I'm sure I can explain myself."

[zingbobco000]

You turn your face away, she gives no response, 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 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 (still with the Penalty Die).

[Mobves]

roll: [roll0] & [roll1]

[zingbobco000]

Jeez... these dice really hate you.
----

“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?

[Mobves]

It seems ridiculous to do anything other than struggle against my bonds!

Here's a roll for that: [roll0] & [roll1]

[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.
----

Here I would ask for you to make a Hard Strength roll, but you already did, and sadly Failed...
----

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 6 damage for being on fire from the flames. However, you may continue your attempt with yet another Strength roll (albeit this one at normal difficulty [but still with the additional die]).

[Mobves]

Heaven save me!

I struggle desperately against the chains.

Roll: [roll0] & [roll1]!

[zingbobco000]

You're weary now... everything around you is burning. The chains give a little more. You feel that you could overcome them, if you only had a little more time—
----

You have taken 5 more damage and burned to death in the beacon... or have you?
----

It is then when you wake up with a hot sweat. You raise your head out of your bible. Was it just a dream? You're confused. It's still nighttime... in the Ledbetter household?
Suddenly, a tiny creak draws your attention to the other side of the room.
Slowly, almost silently, the doorknob is turning.
----

Are you going to grab it and wrench the door open or would you rather just pretend to be asleep?

[Mobves]

Still crazed from what seems too real to have been a nightmare, I leap out of bed to stand behind the door as it opens. I stand ready to pounce upon whoever the intruder happens to be.

[zingbobco000]

May stands on the other side, wrapped in her bed jacket. She steps back in alarm.
“You seemed… not yourself,” she stammers. “I wanted to check up on you.”
You assure May you are in fine health and watch as she returns to her own bedroom. Once the door has closed, you borrow a kitchen chair to wedge under your door handle. Perhaps this piece of fortification will permit you a few hours of restful sleep.

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 do not find yourself feeling as worse as you "felt" last you woke up... strange.
----

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're beginning to get a strange sense of deja vu.

You make a quiet circuit of the village, pausing in unobtrusive places to watch the villagers. You feel like you've all done this before for some reason. 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 most certainly suspect by now that something is amiss here.
While the villagers are distracted, you may do some illicit investigation. Or you may simply leave town without looking back.
----

You may: search May Ledbetter's bedroom, go alone to the village hall, take a closer look at the artisan's courtyard, spy on activity at the Beacon, or just slip down the eastern road and flee for good. What are you thinking?

[Mobves]

I return to the Ledbetter house. I stand there in the kitchen, thinking for a few moments, then hastily scrawl a note below May's.

Dear May, I write, Thanks tremendously for your kindness. I won't soon forget the warm country hospitality I've been shown here. For now though I've decided to head towards the nearest town on foot. I really must get in touch with my contacts in Arkham.

Best of luck with the festival!

Sincerely,

Jerome Lance

I pay my fee with what little cash I have. Then I grab as much food as I can bear to take. Finally, I leave the house... & retreat to the safety of the abandoned church.

I choose to watch the festival from there as discretely as I can.

[zingbobco000]

Yes... the "safety" of the church...
----

You wait... and you wait... and you still continue to wait... a couple of hours pass by and you're still waiting. The work to continue building the beacon presses on.
----

Would you like to continue?

Also, just to be clear: one may travel off the "path" of their own volition, they just have to be mindful that doing so means that they're accepting greater risk.

[Mobves]

I eat some lunch. My plan is to wait there until nightfall. Then I'll see if the events of my "nightmare," if that's really what it was, seem to occur again.

If they don't... I may have some explaining to do to May. Or, at the very least, I could honestly attempt to hoof it to the next town over. Although I'm not confident on my survival skills in the New Hampshire wilderness...

At this point, though, I'm hellishly curious. I can't explain the events of the past several days. Perhaps I should just start walking, but... something compels me to watch the Beacon.

[zingbobco000]

You continue to wait. You happen to notice some villagers head into May's house, but they're too far away for you to notice anything about them. From there, they rush out and begin to gather other people, until you think maybe half of the whole village has gathered, some people begin to dart towards the Eastern road, but then you notice one central figure who starts talking to everyone gathered.
----

Please give me a Spot Hidden and a Listen roll.

[Mobves]

Hmmm... Very interesting...!!

[roll0] & [roll1]!

[zingbobco000]

Sorry, should've given you an assessment for those rolls, but you rolled quite high, I'm afraid.
----

You're not entirely able to make out exactly who the figure is or what they're saying but nevertheless their speech seems to hold everyone in silence. Eventually it appears as if they've completed whatever they were going to say as the villagers split off in groups of two to four. One group heads down the Eastern road, another group down to the West, several groups begin checking houses, one group heads towards the artisan's courtyard, to the store, another to the village hall, to the school, to May's home, and one... to the church.
You quickly realize that you're not particularly well-hidden, and in all likelihood, with enough time spent searching anyone would probably be able to notice you.

[Mobves]

My plan didn't work as I hoped, but I hope to still be able to benefit from it.

I try to loop around the church as the gang of villagers comes over. Then I'll run up to the undefended beacon. If I can't hide, perhaps there's some way to sabotage the ritual.

[zingbobco000]

Please give me a Stealth (you consider yourself an amateur in this field) roll.

[Mobves]

ta-da! [roll0]

[zingbobco000]

That's a Success, nice!
----

You rush over towards the beacon, doing your best to try and sabatoge whatever chains and other objects as you can. Luckily you're unnoticed at first, but as you continue your illicit behavior several shadows fall over you. "Look what we got 'ere... a snoop eh?" Then something heavy slams into your head from behind.

(Fade the black)

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.
----

Are you planning on accepting or rejecting the drink?

[Mobves]

I'll accept the drink this time.

[zingbobco000]

You drink from the cup. It holds cool, refreshing water, which you gulp down. When it is empty, she turns to leave. You speak to her, but she steps outside and closes the door.
Later, you try yelling. Your voice must be audible outside, but it has no effect. It seems the entire village is involved.

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.

[Mobves]

roll: [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.
“I’ve weakened the chains,” says the third. “Don’t try to escape until the flames are high enough to hide you.”
You stare at the third dancer. In that inky visage you clearly discern the frightened features of Ruth Ledbetter.
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?

[Mobves]

Merciful heaven... It seems Ruth has finally found an opportunity to speak to me!

I test the chains around my wrists, slowly pulling at them, but don't actually try to break free until I'm obscured by the fire as Ruth recommended.

I can only hope now that her attempts have been enough...

[zingbobco000]

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 5 damage as you're currently on fire (which might have had you go unconscious, but we're not playing with that rule right now). Please give me a Strength roll with one Bonus Die because you waited, and another because you were able to run around smashing as much stuff as you could (so to clarify, you have two Bonus Dice)!

[Mobves]

"run around smashing things" seemed like an unlikely plan... It'll be a miracle if this works!

roll: [roll0] & [roll1] & [roll2]!

[zingbobco000]

Ah! So close! If only Strength wasn't your dump stat :smalltongue:
----

You struggle, you fight, and you do your best, but the fire is taking its toll on you. How much longer can you keep this up?
----

You take 1 more damage from the flames. You may attempt to escape again, but I'm afraid that you gain a Penalty Die from your previous attempt (which cancels out with one of the Bonus Dice resulting in a total of a roll with a singular Bonus Die).

[Mobves]

Blast! Here goes nothing (again)

roll: [roll0] & [roll1]!

[zingbobco000]

Desperation lends you strength and you yank at what you guess to be some sort of 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 4 points of damage from RUNNING THROUGH FIRE, which means you're just barely still alive.
----

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.
----

Are you going to get the heck out of dodge, or just wait and watch for... scientific purposes.

[Mobves]

I should go. I really really really should go. Lord knows I should go.

But something keeps me waiting...

I limp to the side of the road with the bicycle & crouch behind some trees. I keep an eye on the village for a few moments. Meanwhile I examine the bicycle to make sure everything appears to be functional -- especially the breaks.

[zingbobco000]

You're on a cliff, there are not really any trees here. The nearest patch of forestland is some way's off. Regardles...
----

You look back along the avenue. The entire village is intent upon the Beacon. The brakes, meanwhile, appear to be in working condition. 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. You will have a chance to improve some skills through experience as I'll describe in the OOC.
The End.