Lamplighter's Alone Against the Flames IC

[Perryn]

“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.”

Unknown New England Town, 2:44 PM, September 30th, 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?"

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.

[Lamplighter]

I nod to the driver, and leave my suitcase at the rack, somewhat reluctantly given my mistrust of this new situation I find myself in, but hey, surely not everyone outside this town will be so distant, I wonder to myself. It is a bittersweet feeling after all, leaving the nest and the few I call friends. I'll give them the benefit of the doubt, maybe they forgot, maybe they were busy and couldn't see me off, maybe they never got the memo. It is a bit disheartening, sure, but why dwell on that when my mind is already made up. I can't just reschedule, the coach is already here after all and I'm not made of money. Instead, I should be thinking about all the possibilities that await me in Arkham and besides, I can always write letters back when I have the opportunity.

Then, I climb into the coach, perhaps a bit anxious, but determined nonetheless.

----

As for stats, highest to lowest: Dexterity > Constitution > Power > Appearance > Intelligence > Strength > Size > Education

[Perryn]

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

The driver continues to enjoy his cigarette, watching with keen interest as you struggle with the cases. You grit your teeth and heave the second one into place.

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

Arkham is your new home. You will travel there, and make a new start.

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

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

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

Please give me 3d6 to assist in generating your beginning luck.

I believe that you can roll by putting 3d6 in parenthesis.

[Lamplighter]

Well, although no conversation was made, she seemed nice enough. Looking at the countryside, I am stricken with slight pangs of regret and last minute indecision. It is too late though, and while I am not a gambling man, I feel lucky whats in store in my future.

----

[roll0]

[Perryn]

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

Please now give me a Dexterity roll. What this means is that you'll be rolling a d100 and comparing it to your Dexterity. For now, I hold your stats, but eventually, I'll hand the character over to you once I feel like you've got a good handle on the mechanics (presumably at the end of the adventure)! So, just give me the d100 roll.

Using square brackets instead of parenthesis (roll)1d100(/roll)

[Lamplighter]

Lets hope driving this recklessly is the exception rather than the norm in Arkham, I think to myself.

----

[roll0]

[Perryn]

You rolled below your dexterity, which means that you have succeeded on your role. Interestingly, in Call of Cthulhu, your stats are what actually determine the difficulty of your attempt as opposed to a set DC like in D&D.
----

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?”

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

Make up a name (first and last, please) for your character and I'll mark it down. You may add your age; for the purposes of this adventure your character should probably be aged between 23 and 36.

[Lamplighter]

I smile to Silas, "Raymond, Raymond Felten. It happens." I say to the driver, shrugging, intentionally being vague about what exactly I mean by 'it'. "At least we didn't get a flat, or worse."

----

Raymond Felten is 24.

[Perryn]

The coach turns onto a narrower road, which weaves uphill through woodland. Silas becomes chatty.

“Going to Arkham, eh Felix? 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)?

Let me know if you need more information.

[Lamplighter]

"Felton, not Felix, sir. Anyways, the short of it is a few years ago there was an investigator coming through, tracking someone. That someone never came through our town, mind you, as far as I'm aware, but it got me thinking, you know? I hear it can be a lot of boring paperwork, but it could also be interesting, plus the occasional trips, albeit for work, could be fun." I say, for some reason speaking a lot more comfortably than I might usually. "Besides, whats the alternative, as far as I see it most jobs are boring through and through." I pause for a moment, thinking. "I suppose your job isn't that bad in that regard, what with the travel and meeting new people all the time."

[Perryn]

It's nice being able to talk about the future that you are moving towards, and you find yourself opening up more than usual. Your heart pounds a little faster, as you think of the entry-level post you have secured at the Blackwood Detective Agency. You'll be making more than you could have hoped for staying where you were. How fortunate you were to meet Rudolph Norman when he passed through your town. If it weren't for him, you'd never have gotten this chance. You won't disappoint him.

Silas narrows his eyes, but he says nothing.

---

You gain the following occupational skills: Art/Craft (Photography), Disguise, Law, Library Use, Psychology, Spot Hidden, and one of either Charm, Fast Talk, Intimidate, or Persuade. You may also pick any other skill as a personal specialty.

Once you have chosen your other skill, please rank them from your best to your worst.


Accounting - understanding of accountacy procedures; reveals the financial functioning of a business or a person.
Antropology - identify and understand an individual's or culture's way of life throuh observation
Appraise - estimate the value of a particular item, including the quality, material used, and workmanship.
Archeology - allows dating and idetifying 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 - one's skill in melee combat. There are also different specializations such as Sword, Axe, Spear, or Whip, which each require their own choice.
Firearms - covers all manner of firearms, as well as bows and crossbows. There are different specializations including Handguns, Rifles/Shotguns, Bows, and Crossbows
First Aid - emergency medical care, not for diseases (see Medicine).
History - 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) - Knowledge (ability to understand, speak, read, and write) of a language that's not your own. Each language is its own choice.
Own Language (you have this) - 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) - Find a piece of information, such as a certain book, newspaper, reference in a library, or a collection of documents (assuming there's information to be found).
Listen - interpret and understand sound, including overheard conversations, mutters behind a closed door, and whispered words in a cafe.
Locksmith - open car doors, hotwire autos, jimmy libtary windows, figure out Chinese puzzle boxes, and penetrate ordinary alarm systems.
Mechanical Repair - repair a broken machine or create a new one.
Medicine - diagnose and treat accidents, injuries, diseases, poisonings, etc...
Natural World - represents the traditional (unscientific) knowledge and personal observation of farmers, fishermen, inspired amateurs, and hobbyists.
Navigate - take the correct path to a destination, whether in a strange city or the wilderness.
Occult - recognize occult paraphernalia, words and concepts, as well as folk traditions; can also identify grimoires of magic and occult codes.
Operate Heavy Machinery - required to drive and operate a train, steam engine, bulldozer, or other large-scale land machine.
Persuade - convince a person of a particular idea, concept, or belief through reasoned argument, debate, and discussion (although this does not necessarily have to employ the truth).
Pilot - allows the safe operation of a boat, aircraft, or dirigible. Each one is its own skill.
Psychoanalysis - refers to the range of emotional therapies.
Psychology (you have this) - 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 anaimal, riding gear, and how to handle the steed at a gallop or on difficult terrain.
Science - practical and theoretical ability with a science specialty gained from some degree of formalized education and training, although a well-read amateur scientist may also be a possibility. These specializations include: Astronomy, Biology, Botany, Chemistry, Cryptography, Geology, Pharmacy, Physics, Zoology, etc... Each one is its own skill.
Sleight of Hand - allows the visual covering-up, secreting, or masking of an object or objects, perhaps with debris, cloth, or other illusion-promoting materials.
Spot Hidden - find a secret door or compartment, notice a hidden intruder, see an inconspicuous clude, 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 - 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.



---
You also have personal interests and hobbies, so choose four other skills that Raymond has dabbled in. You don't need to rank these.

[Lamplighter]

"Different strokes for different folks, is all I mean." I say, not having meant to insult his career.

----

Skills, highest to lowest: Psychology > Track > Persuade > Law > Library Use > Disguise > Spot hidden > Art/Craft (Photography)
Of the four is Persuade, extra is Track

Other four: Stealth, Dodge, Throw, Brawl

[Perryn]

You have a base ability in most skills. Thisallows for you to attempt a roll even if you haven't chosen it as something you learned for your occupation or as a matter of personal interest, but the skills you chose above are the skills that you are most comfortable with.

--
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.

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?

The motor coach rattles on through the hills and Silas lapses into silence. The sky darkens behind you, pinks tinting the clouds as the sun descends. Finally a welcome sight comes into view: a settlement on the crest of a hill. This doesn’t look like the pictures you’ve seen of Ossipee. But perhaps you can persuade Silas to stop while you stretch your legs.

Minutes later, a harsh stuttering from the engine interrupts your reverie. Silas frowns and rattles the gear stick. The motor coach falters in its ascent. Silas utters a curse you don’t recognize and grinds his teeth, struggling at the wheel. You seem to inch up the hill until you reach the first buildings, low dwellings constructed from a rough red stone. Silas wrestles the coach into a small bay off the road. He scrambles from his seat and makes for the engine compartment.
---

Now it is time to make our first skill check! However, I'm going to offer you the choice between two, but you could arguably think of doing something else and I'll rule what skill you would need to use to do that thing.

Do you think your character would go out and check on the car? If so, please give me a Drive Auto roll (a d100 which I will compare to your drive auto skill), or do you sit back and observe Silas's reactions? If so, please give me a hard Psychology roll (a d100 which I will compare to half your Psychology skill.)

[Lamplighter]

Not knowing much about automobiles myself, I will wait and watch Silas, and maybe stretch my limbs a bit after the long ride.

----

Psychology: [roll0]

[Perryn]

Nice! You squeaked out a success. I'm marking this skill to indicate you have succeeded. At the end of the story you'll have a chance to improve this skill.

You sense a falseness to Silas’s actions. He is acting. Either he is not as aggravated about the breakdown as his behavior suggests, or perhaps the breakdown itself is an act.

If this is a ruse to make you spend your time and money in a local shop, he will be sadly disappointed in your purchasing power.

Silas opens the engine compartment open and sticks his head inside. The hot metal pops and sizzles. He pokes at various components, then withdraws and wipes his brow, smearing it with dark grease.

“I ain’t sure what’s wrong. Might be the oil pressure. Might be something knocked off kilter when we took that spill. Can’t do much until the engine cools neither. And with the light failing… I reckon we’ll be here through the night.” He wipes his hands on a rag.

The shadows from your surroundings are already long, and the air is chilly. You feel stiff from the journey and a night in the rickety coach sounds unappealing. Silas sees your dismay.

“This here’s Emberhead. Miles from anyplace. I only come through twice a week. But the folks here are good people. May Ledbetter keeps a spare room. She’ll look after you. Up that alley, turn right, first house on the left.”

He scratches his cheek, looks again into the engine compartment, and spits on the ground.

“Meet me back here at eight in the morning and we’ll see how’s we stand.”

--
Now we're entering the more freeform part of the adventure. Nevertheless, given that this is still an introductory scenario. I'll be providing little prompts at the bottom of example things your character could attempt so that you can formulate a post in-line with general Call of Cthulhu ideas. In this instance, I have three possibilities.


Head out and look for this May Ledbetter's house
Ask Silas where he's going to stay the night
Challenge Silas about the breakdown

[Lamplighter]

Maybe Silas just has a friend in this town and doesn't usually get a chance to visit, I think to myself.

Not particularly inclined to trust nor confront Silas, I will thank Silas for his advice and start heading in the direction he described, but not before grabbing one of my suitcases for a change of clothes and not wanting my paperwork too far from myself. First I would like to look for any landmarks around the coach that I could ask about to any locals on the off chance I get lost and can ask for directions. I continue on, however I do not stop at May Ledbetter's home, but continue onward for a bit, making a mental note of my path so I don't get lost.

I would like to knock on someone else's door, to explain the situation and try to persuade them to let me stay the night. I try to make myself appear a bit pitiful by explaining that my ride broke down and I am saving what money I have for the rest of the trip. I don't need much, maybe offer to be lent a couch and a blanket for the night, but I also don't want to be a burden so I offer to help with any chores they might have to get done.

[Perryn]

Sounds like a plan! Give me two rolls (always a 1d100 unless stated otherwise). The first roll will be for Luck - to see if anyone answers the door. The second roll is for Charm to see if the person that answers the door takes pity on you.

[Lamplighter]

Luck: [roll0]

Charm: [roll1]

[Perryn]

Well, you were somewhat lucky - a 96 would have been a fumble.
--
Emberhead, 5:54 PM, September 30th, 1921.

You take one of your cases down from the rack. Before you are able to get too far, Silas grunts at you to take both your cases; he doesn't want to be responsible for your things if some fool wanders by.

The motor coach has broken down right as you entered the village, and he's indicated that the Ledbetter house isn't much of a walk at all.

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.

You shake your head, if Silas is trying to trick you then he's going to need to work harder than making a recommendation. You steel yourself to continue trudging down this street. You spot one other house with a light in the window, and decide to knock.

An old man appears at the door, obviously agitated, "What do you want?"

You explain your situation and begin to ask about lodging, when he cuts you off. "You filthy outsiders. Ain't you ever hear of a lodging room? You must have passed the sign on your way here, or can't big, city-folk read anymore?"

Without giving you an opportunity to say another word, he slams the door in your face.

You don't feel confident about your chances of finding another place at this hour. A breeze chills your face. You're not about to begin your new life by sleeping in the street.

Or, are you?

[Lamplighter]

I sigh, deciding some shelter is better than no shelter, and go to knock on May Ledbetter's door.

[Perryn]

Emberhead, 6:17 PM, September 30th, 1921.

You rap on the weather-beaten 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. Your single experience with the locals suggest that the village does not offer you many alternatives.

“Oh, you’ll find them very reasonable,” she says. “You look tired. I’m May. Come inside and we’ll talk over a cup of tea.”

The Ledbetter house feels cramped, with a low ceiling and simple fittings. But it is well kept and a cheerful fire crackles in the grate. The aroma of the tea is soothing and the cup warms your fingers.

“Have you come to Emberhead for the festival?” asks May.

[Lamplighter]

The information clicks in my head. "Assuming the festival is tonight, yes, I do believe my driver has had us stop here for the night for the festival, though I am in the dark on the details." I say, having put one and one together but still hungry for more information. "Would you be so kind as to fill me in on what the festival is about?"

[Perryn]

Emberhead, 6:23 PM, September 30th, 1921.
--

May gives you a slightly puzzled look, "Your driver? You mean Silas? If he told you the Festival was tonight then I'm sorry to disappoint you. The Festival isn't tonight, it's the night after next. Sunday."

“Well now, I suppose the Festival is about the only reason folks come to Emberhead. Did you come to study it or take photographs? I suppose it looks very strange to a passerby.”

May tops up your tea. The spout chinks against your cup.

“We’ve got the Beacon, you see. One night every year there’s a torch-lit procession and we light the Beacon on the cliffs. You’ve never seen the like of it. They say it keeps the spirit of the village alive for another year. It’s a celebration. A celebration...”

She tails off for a moment, and blinks.

“But you didn’t come here to listen to me blather, and you must be hungry. I can rustle you up a bit of stew. How would that be?”

You ask again about her rates, and May names a price so low you accept it without hesitation. The room is small but comfortable, and the stew dark and hearty. After dinner, you have a couple of hours before your usual bedtime.

--
In Call of Cthulhu, finances are largely abstracted to a skill called Credit Rating. You have an Average Credit Rating, which means that you can use standard forms of travel, expect to stay at a moderately priced hotel, and eat three meals a day without needing to do any bookkeeping.

What do you do now? Are you enjoying May's company and wanting to talk some more? Do you want to go out and walk around to get your bearings? Or, has been a long day and you are ready to turn in early?

[Lamplighter]

Knowing Silas, I am guessing he will come up with an excuse to stay here for the festival, which is fine I guess. It could be fun, with Miss May's rates and the fact that I hadn't prepaid for the other legs of my trip, I suppose I am not in a huge rush. If Silas is ready for the road tomorrow, thats just as well.

For now, I will continue talking to May. "Ah, the festival timing must have been a misinterpretation on my part. Stew would be lovely, thank you." I continue asking about the festival. "Spirit of the village? Is that a tradition inherited from the indians or something?"

----

I am not trying to be culturally insensitive, but according to wikipedia native americans weren't called that until the 1960s, so the term indian would have still been used in 1921.

[Perryn]

Emberhead, 8:02 PM, September 30th, 1921.
--

"You know, I don't rightly know. I suppose it might be. It's tradition though, and that's important. Don't you think?"

May talks 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.”

Make a Charm roll.

[Lamplighter]

While tradition has its purpose, if its purpose is unknown, someone will eventually question it, and challenge it. I wouldn't be suprised if those that are excluded are as such, inquisitive people. Such people may also know more than those who blindly follow tradition.

I will continue to probe May about the festival, running on the assumption Silas will give a reason to stay. Better to be prepared than not, after all. "Who runs the festival, is there someone in charge of organizing the procession? I would love to help out with preparations if I can, to help repay your generous hospitality. I likewise, also wouldn't want to bother with anyone who doesnt want to help their own community, they sound grumpy. You get out what you put in, as they say. Is there anyone in particular I should avoid?"

----

Charm: [roll0]

[Perryn]

Emberhead, 9:14 PM, September 30th, 1921.
--

May smiles and nods at your kind offer.

"No, I'm sure Silas will have the coach sorted by the morning. He's ran the same roue for fifteen years, and, afterall, he's not a bad soul at heart."

"Mr. Winters is in charge of organizing the Festival..." 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...”

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?”

[Lamplighter]

"Is 7am too early?" I ask, "Silas wanted me to check in with him by 8."

[Perryn]

Emberhead, 9:54 PM, September 30th, 1921.
--

May smiles, "Not at all."

As May stands, you hear a clunk behind you. You look over your shoulder, but all you can see is a wooden door, securely closed.

May tuts. “The young lady of the house. She’ll have been listening to us. Ruth! Come and greet our guest.”

There is a short pause, then the door creaks open. Two wide eyes peer at you from the gap, between tousled hair and a rough nightgown.

“What do you say?”

The eyes blink. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Now get back to bed.”

The door closes again.

“My daughter Ruth. Ten years this summer. She’s a delight and a torment all in one. Don’t worry, she sleeps in with me. She’ll not disturb you. Good night now.”

You retire to your room. It is a little chilly, but you are too tired to worry about lighting the fire. The sheets are clean and the bed soon warms up. The silence outside is strange after living in a town for so long, but you soon drop off.

You dream of fire in the grate; coruscating colors shimmering through the dancing tongues of flame. At first they are tiny, almost microscopic, but they grow, and grow, until a kaleidoscopic inferno spills from the fireplace, spreading across the floor, up the sheets…

You wake with a start. Daylight glints through the curtains. You get up and examine the grate, blinking the sleep from your eyes. It is quite cold.
----
If you have taken any damage, you may heal 1 hit point back for your night’s sleep.

Yes, that's right, Long Rests heal 1 hit point. Let's just say that taking damage is of much more consequence in this game than most.
----

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.

[Lamplighter]

All too convenient, with the festival being on sunday in two days, I can't help but think to myself. Well, looks like I'm not getting even an excuse out of Silas, but it doesn't quite add up, all things considered. Why would Silas have me stay for the festival, but leave himself? How did Miss May know my driver was Silas before I mentioned his name?

For now, I thank the man passing by, and ask him if there is a telephone in the village or where I could find the post office. Otherwise, I would head back towards May, to explain it looks like I will be here for the festival after all as well as for a place to drop off my bags. Maybe also ask where I could find Mr. Winters.

[Perryn]

Emberhead, 8:22 AM, October 1st, 1921.
--

You thank the man and ask him about a post office and possibly a telegraph in town. The man shrugs. "Who would we call? As for letters, Mr. Winters collects outgoing letters at the Village Hall. They'll go out the next time the mail man has a letter to deliver."

With that, the man strolls off down the street.

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.

"Nobody here has anything like a car." She strokes her chin and narrows her eyes. "If you're in a hurry, 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, they may have an order they're expecting to send out soon. Their workshops are first left on Silbury Street. And there is always the general store; she gets shipments every so often."

She reaches over and squeezes your wrist. "Don't worry, I won't see you sleeping in the street, money or no money."

---
You seem to have the hang of it, so I don't want to give you too many prompts without being asked. If you need me to list out possible options then feel free to let me know.

[Lamplighter]

Going to the town hall first seems like the best idea. From what I have heard so far, Mr. Winters seems like the most knowledgeable person in the village. I will ask May the directions to the town hall, and then head there.

[Perryn]

Emberhead, 8:46 AM, October 1st, 1921.
--

May gives you directions to the village hall. 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 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. 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 southwest of the village, an open grassy space borders a ruined church, its graveyard cresting the cliffs. To the northeast, the three main thoroughfares meet at a raised black metal structure. It looms, stark against the blue sky.

https://i.pinimg.com/originals/97/d4/fe/97d4fe0c4bfde6374df86598db126670.jpg

[Lamplighter]

Given that there are multiple workshops, maybe at least one of them is open this early, I think, heading in that direction next.

[Perryn]

Emberhead, 9:25 AM, October 1st, 1921.
---

Not far from the village hall, on the north side of Silbury Street, is an open courtyard. The rhythmic tattoo of a hammer seems to announce your approach.

The courtyard is the busiest location you have yet seen in Emberhead. It is bordered by a ring of workshops. Some are brick buildings, some only rough huts. A blacksmith ceases to hammer, thrusting something red and glowing into a bucket of cold water. A weaver looks up from his loom, blinking at you for a moment before returning to his shuttle. A potter, engraver, and carpenter each work in their own space, exchanging friendly banter.

[Lamplighter]

I wave and walk up to the already talking three, not wanting to interrupt anyone who would want to be alone, and wait for a break in the conversation to speak up.

"Pardon me, but I am currently stuck in this town, and heard it was possible a delivery might be scheduled in the imminent future. Which, of course, as lovely as this town is, I need to reconnect to the outside world; so knowing when a delivery is due could be useful to me."

[Perryn]

The three men are genial. Each respond about their trade, and how their custom is restricted entirely to the villagers. The blacksmith and weaver seem focused and don't pay attention to the conversation until the potter calls out to them.

The weaver sends occasional packages with the motor coach, but he isn't sending anything out any time soon.

---
Give me a Psychology roll (1d100)

[Lamplighter]

Psychology: [roll0]

[Perryn]

It could just be in your head, but it sure seemed like the three were perfectly content leaving your question at they restricted their business to within the village. It wasn't until you moved close to the workshop that is closed up, that the potter called over to the blacksmith and the weaver. Then their helpfulness almost seemed forced and awkward.

[Lamplighter]

I will thank the trio for their time, and head over to the general store next.

[Perryn]

Emberhead, 10:09 AM, October 1st, 1921.
---

You thank the men for their time and head back out the way you came. As you leave, the men go back to their casual conversation and the clang of hammer hitting metal resumes.

Making your way down the the main road, you find the general store on the corner just before the road 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.

"What can I do for you?"

You have enough money to buy one or two inexpensive everyday items here, if you'd like.

[Lamplighter]

Deciding to keep my money in case I need it later, I will just ask about their mail.

"Hello, I was just wondering when the next time you would be receiving any shipments."

[Perryn]

"Shipments? Hmm. There's a truck that brings in my supplies every second Tuesday, but he's not due until next week." She shrugs, "I'm pretty well stocked. Is there something you need that you don't see?"

[Lamplighter]

"Not off the top of my head, I was just curious. Thanks for the help." I say, and begin thinking about what to do next.

I think I will go check out the beacon next and see why this town likes it so much.

[Perryn]

Emberhead, 10:42 AM, October 1st, 1921.
---

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

However you choose to respond, please also make a Spot Hidden roll.

[Lamplighter]

I nod to the man as he passes by, take in the view. It doesn't seem like I will have any method to contact the outer world, unless Mr. Winters has a surprise in store for me, its very likely I will be here until Silas arrives next.

I wonder what purpose the festival has. It may have lost its meaning to time, those who remain just repeating the same action without cause, but it surely had meaning to the past. What did this structure symbolize? Perhaps an idol of the summer, burning it away to welcome the winter? Hmmm, that doesn't make sense, given people would want the summer, and it hardly makes sense to kill the summer with fire. Plus, it seems more a solemn affair, with mention of a procession instead of a celebratory dance or something. Maybe it served as a warning to the winter, apparently visible for miles, to keep away the cold. At the same time, the light could be to attract the lost, like a lighthouse. Following this line of thinking, maybe it served to guide dead to the afterlife and the context is that someone died recently, not that it is fall like I was assuming earlier. But this doesn't explain the statue, a god of death? Wait, why would they burn the god? Anyhow, some context would likely be useful, like when and why the festival occurs. I can ask that to Miss May or Mr. Winters, but he probably won't be available for another hour at least.

Hmmm. given how secluded this town is, there likely isn't as much influence from the outside world, so any stories they have could very well be tied to the same myth. I could ask Miss May or her daughter about that, or I could check out the school I passed by earlier, or maybe there is a library, at the school or in town hall. I don't really have anything better to do.

I also haven't seen any other foreigners here other than myself. Well, I suppose I hadn't heard of it before and its not very popular, what with there being only one place to rent a room. Hey wait, where did Silas stay last night?

Anyways, the school is probably the next place I should check out before I get bored of this view.

----

Spot hidden: [roll0]

[Perryn]

Emberhead, 11:17 AM, October 1st, 1921.
---

You begin walking in the direction of the school that you have seen in the village 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 and how you were just about to try and learn some more about the village and the Festival by visiting the school.

“It's Saturday, dear. I'm afraid the school won't be open today. I’d try Mr. Winters in the village hall. He’s always there in the afternoon, and he keeps a library of sorts."

"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.

[Lamplighter]

I cant help but feel like something is off, given Ruth's actions, but the people of the village have been nothing but nice so far. Well, except the person whose door I knocked on before May's.

"I appreciate the offer, but I'm used to just two meals a day so I'm not quite hungry right now. By the look of the sun it is almost noon, so I think Ill head over to town hall and wait until Mr. Winter's is available, thanks for the advice."

----

Can I make a check to determine whether the cause of Ruth's outburst comes from anger, fear, a child's prank, or something else?

[Perryn]

Emberhead, 11:45 AM, October 1st, 1921.
---

You take your leave of the Ledbetters and head back to the village hall. If you learned one thing this morning, it was that Emberhead's streets hold little to occupy the visitor from out of town.

You set yourself down on the patio steps of the village hall. You replay Ruth's outburst in your head. What an odd thing for a little girl to say. There are still about six hours of daylight left.

You mull over your choices; you could always take some provisions and the bare essentials from your luggage. Maybe you could make it to another village before dark. Then again, maybe Mr. Winter's might know someone with a horse and cart, and you could send word to Arkham via telegram about the delay.

But, Ruth, have you ever seen another girl act that way?

Sure! That sounds like a Psychology role to me.

[Lamplighter]

I am going to keep waiting on the steps for now.

----

Psychology: [roll0]

[Perryn]

Emberhead, 12:33 PM, October 1st, 1921.
---

The village hall overlooks the lower north ridge of the village. Conscious of the oppressive, black, metal structure framed at the end of the road, you sit there reimaging the whole event with the Ledbetters over and over again.

There was an urgency to Ruth's words. She wasn't angry, but was that fear? Playing the scenario through your mind, you think about May wrapping her arm around Ruth's shoulder. It wasn't just an embrace; she was pulling Ruth back to her.

You've been waiting for a while now and grow a little impatient. Pushing Ruth out of your mind, you realize that you never actually tried the door when you arrived.

The shutters of the hall are open and some windows are even 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.

[Lamplighter]

I would like to walk up to check out the contents of the noticeboards.

----

Also, do I hear anyone?

[Perryn]

Emberhead, 12:36 PM, October 1st, 1921.
---

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.

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.

---
Go ahead and give me a Listen and a Spot Hidden roll.

[Lamplighter]

Well, that was decidedly not very helpful.

If there are no other doors, I would like to knock on the private room.

----

Spot Hidden: [roll0]
Listen: [roll1]

[Perryn]

Emberhead, 12:40 PM, October 1st, 1921.
---

You raise your hand to knock on the door, but it opens before you can complete the movement. The middle-aged gentleman behind it takes an involuntary step back, adjusting his spectacles. You hasten to apologize and introduce yourself. He steadies himself and peers at you.

“I see. I’m Clyde Winters. Just visiting, you say? And you’ve come to see me? Hmm! Care for some coffee? I usually take a cup around this time of the afternoon.”

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.

---
You should really remind your dice you want to roll low until it is time for you to improve your skills at the end of the adventure. :P

[Lamplighter]

"Nice to meet you!" I say cordially. "I am currently stuck in this town for the time being, until Monday or Tuesday as far as I am aware, and was looking for a way to contact my employer to let them know I will be late, as well as looking for more information on the festival tomorrow. Coffee would be great, thanks."

[Perryn]

Emberhead, 12:45 PM, October 1st, 1921.
---

"Ah, yes, the telegraph. Mmm. Much as we value our isolation, we do need the link sometimes." He gives you the standard form to fill out with the message that you would like to send.

https://qph.fs.quoracdn.net/main-qimg-d3c0065e5b45ccff39e8fe01e2feba59.webp

---
Here's a bit of fun, if you'd like. The price to send a telegram was 25 cents for 12 words, and then it would cost two cents for every additional word. Therefore, regular users of the telegraph would register a short telegraphic address rather than making the sender pay to send an entire street address.

For example, the Scotland Yard famously had the address "Handcuffs, London."

The Blackwood Detective Agency would probably have a telegraphic address. It can be Blackwood, Arkham if you wanted, but you have the opportunity to make it something more clever, if you'd like to.

[Lamplighter]

I fill out the form, keeping it simple and not wanting to make excuses:

To: Charcoal, Arkham
'Stuck in transit. Half week late. From Ray.'

I hand the form back to Mr. Winters, along with payment.

"So, about the festival. I've heard from Ms. May Ledbetter about the bonfire and procession and the village's tradition each year, however I am curious of the story behind the tradition, which occurred to me you may be the best person to ask. Stuff like what the beacon was meant to represent, before it has taken its current charred form. In addition, May directed me to you to ask about helping out for the festival. I am unfamiliar with your customs, so I am unaware if I should also join the procession."

[Perryn]

Emberhead, 12:57 PM, October 1st, 1921.
---

"Yes, the Festival is the town's oldest tradition. Don't mind helping prepare for it; we all have our role. But, I would love for you to stay and be a part of the Festival. Not many visitors here, so you'll be our guest of honor."

“You know, living here is a trade-off, like so much in life.” He looks past you at a high shelf. “Of course, I could wish for access to a proper library, of course. But I know myself well enough. I’m strictly a dabbler. And the cities...” His face wrinkles in distaste. “Too many people. Everybody rushing and shouting. We have a special place here in Emberhead. And someone must accept responsibility for keeping it so. That was my father before me. And now the duty falls to me.” He lifts his chin and straightens up.

“This evening, as the sun sets, look out at the landscape around the village. We have peace up here, halfway to the stars. Are we not privileged? Is this not worth the hardships we must accept?”

He looks at you speculatively.

[Lamplighter]

"I don't currently have a method to go, even if I wanted to before the festival, so it looks like I'll be burdening you." I address his earlier point before continuing.

"You could always take the occasional trip, assuming you have the time, have the best of both worlds. A lot of people prefer cities, but do go out camping to enjoy nature, for instance, not that I am equating this town to camping, of course. I wouldn't say that peace is worth the hardship, but that peace wouldn't be as gratifying without it. It takes one to appreciate the other. Would the quiet of a village be appreciated without the noise of a city?"

[Perryn]

Emberhead, 1:05 PM, October 1st, 1921.
---

Mr. Winters considers what you say, and the look of distate returns to his face for a moment.

"Ah, well, nevermind that. I tell you what." Mr. Winters takes a drink of his coffee, "There will be a repair crew here the day after next - Monday. When they 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..."

You have an afternoon ahead of you. You could continue to talk with Mr. Winters, he seems friendly enough. You could ask about the books on his shelf, and maybe kill some time with a good book. Alternatively, you could go walk down to the lower level of the village and check out the eastern road, or check out that ruined church you saw.

[Lamplighter]

If Mr. Winters hasn't answered my question, he either doesn't know himself, or doesn't want me to know, in which case I won't be allowed access to his library. So I do not plan to waste more time here.

"I would appreciate that, however Silas, my ride, is due back in around the same time frame, so I am afraid that wont be necessary. Thanks again for the coffee and the help with the telegraph." I say and begin to make my leave.

I think I will go explore more. Vestiges of the past might have answers, so I would like to check out the church.

[Perryn]

Emberhead, 1:32 PM, October 1st, 1921.
--

You head 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.

Make a Ride roll. You may have a bonus die by rolling a d10 in addition to the normal d100 and taking the lower result for the tens place. So:

1d100
1d10